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#crumbs you’re giving me.
incarnatedevotion · 1 year
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Bentley Little you have a beautiful mind but please spend more than a short paragraph describing a disturbing scene i’m begging you
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captainsavre · 17 days
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Maya and Carina || Station 19 - 7.08 ‘Ushers of the New World’
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fumifooms · 2 months
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What do you think of Lamari (Laios and Namari)? Both as a ship and the relationship between the two.
I don’t like it sorry broski 😔 Seeing them interacting in ep 9 again made me see the appeal more, it’s cute how they interact, how they trust each other’s abilities and judgement! But ship wise…… I can’t. I’ve been seeing cute fanart of them around though, and I know a few people on discord that like them too. Like hmmm I guess I can see the appeal in the dynamic even if it doesn’t grab me but I can’t form a narrative for them… Usually I need both to truly get into a ship, a dynamic I find fun or interesting + some sort of progression and impact it’d leave on the characters, I don’t really see the character/relationship arc that’d happen, or at least not one eventful enough for me. When it comes to how I think their relationship is during canon, I see it as being professional and hinting at maybe friends, a neutral rather than negative thing mind you.
With Laios, well I’ve spoken about his character and arc before a bunch, but with Namari the part that interests me most is the whole exile thing, how she works hard to fit in both with keeping a good work reputation and shaving, for example, and how she’s not all that good with it because of presumably her bold personality... Because of this and more, and spoilers but I’ve planning on making a rarepair post about it for a while, I like shipping her with Toshiro mainly. I think that she balances out his doormat tendency but his cool attitude would be soothing and grounding and- Well gdbdgdg you see how it is. And to a certain extent I can see why people would want to apply the same logic to lamari, but… I don’t even think Namari and Laios would be able to bond over both being foreigners much tbh, I feel like Laios would sort of remain an odd mystery to her and though they could connect in a weird roundabout way I don’t think they’d exactly understand each other— and see this is the part of lamari appeal I get, the sort of tentative tension of "oh you actually respect me. That feels… Rare. And nice." Thouuugh like I was saying to be fair, it’s true Laios also tries and fails to fit in so that could be an interesting angle to go at it with. I think Namari wants stability and I just don’t really think it complements Laios well. I think trust’s the most important thing with Laios so on his side him liking her enough to be interested or open to a relationship I could see, though in a kinda mild and dry way imo… Like with Laios especially when defining how he and someone fall in love, there are sort of two modes right, and of course these coexist to some degree, but there’s Laios being his partner’s silly goober, and there’s Laios being very mature, more of his subdued stoic but composed self, all king-like, the more like connecting through meaningful conversations side. And idk how to put it into words but with lamari, I feel like Namari being paired with him doesn’t give a fresh spin on the former, and with the latter I feel like they’d always keep missing each other halfway communication wise, I don’t see them ever getting to that level where they deeply intuitively know and understand each other and how they work, maybe Laios -> Namari yes but Namari -> Laios I don’t see it, like I said I think it’d remain like, a mystery that nags at her and she might feel attracted if anything, but I can’t see them as more than casually dating idkk idk.
Namari has that fun ‘gets fired up about what odd things Laios is doing and reigns him back in’ dynamic but it’s something that literally so many other characters have too. I’m not knee deep into Namari yet so who knows maybe I have a wrong angle, but I did start giving her some thoughts bc I have a fic I have in mind for toshimari I wanna do. But yes it’s cute how protective she can get even if it’s shouty or tough love, like how she looks out for Laios’ equipment and for him not to get scammed, or brings in Toshiro here in the convo because she doesn’t want Toshiro to do his conflict avoidance thing and not stand up for himself & stay in the party even if it sucks hah. That bold borderline rude protective personality of hers with that awkwardness with intimacy/non-professional relationships is what’s unique to her I think, but yeah the laios & namari duo strikes me as strangely distant yet strangely interested coworkers who exhange glances over the cashier desk but personally I can’t see myself doing anything with that.
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I’m not here to say it’s a bad ship or anything obviously! It just really doesn’t call to me personally and I don’t see stuff with them that I’d find interesting to analyze, if anything it’d involve the wider party a lot. I do want to make a masterpost on Laios’ career history and the old members of his party so I might analyze how Namari and he interact in those pre-canon comics idk. But yeahh like I find nothing to dig deeper at personally, you could make cute fics of them hinting at interest between the two, if Laios went to get drinks with her at a tavern etc etc, but all I see with them is just what canon straightforwardly showed us and I don’t get the urge to explore the possibility of them at all.
Sorry to disappoint, but yeah I won’t be a good source of lamari content or thoughts. I have wayy too many drafts I actually want to get out so I’ll be storing further Laios & Namari analysis for a big maybe, one day. I feel so bad I really hate to be negative at all and as a fellow rareshipper I send u my best wishes truly, good luck y’all deserve fellow stans and content. Feel free to leave pro-lamari arguments in the comments or reblogs if you want idm but preferably not asks (and just don’t be aggressive & don’t expect me to respond/react 🫶) like truly this post isn’t meant as a diss but anon asked me about my personal thoughts so… I love youuu lamaris hope y’all thrive 🙇🙇
Trying to think of crumbs and it’s true she blushed when she saw him in his cape at the end so y’all got that W. Namari having a thing for tallmen is so real
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Edit: oh she went with him for equipment shopping… Ok that’s cute
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housewifebuck · 3 months
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Ok guys I’m writing the Maddie n Eddie Mess Around fic I need your best prank ideas
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olympiansally · 1 year
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Me craving human connection and ppl who actually engage with fan works: hmmmm I wonder if there’s anyone still alive and around the death note fandom
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hnnnnnnnm · 8 months
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💌 :0 !!!!!!!!!!!! hi hi hi hello :3 how’s your day been dearie?
Hi hi hi hiiiii :D !!! My day has been good thank you, yours? ^w^
Anyway to get the the prompt, one thing I love about you is how curious you are as a person. And I see this in how you interact with media but I think it’s even in friendships as well, if you like something/someone and find whatever it is interesting you ask questions. Questions that are really fucking interesting and thought provoking too, and some of our own interactions spring to mind, and like with media this curiosity - and passion too - is obvious through all the analysis you put together, the thought that goes into figuring out why things are the way they are. And that’s so fucking cool and admirable because it really is a labour of love to see something or someone you like and to be like “I want to know why you’re this why” or “I want to know why the parts move the way they do/why the author did this” and then actually go through with trying to find out.
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rambling-addict · 2 years
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Raelle m’fuckin Collar is back, bwitches! I almost screamed in excitement as soon as she was on screen!
And who would she be “sharing” her first scene back? Of course, it could only be her wifey—in death cap form, lol.
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Sexy weird connection is still intact, oh yeah! Lol. I swear, this is literal soulmate shit—Scylla being able to reach Raelle into the unknown depths of the mycelium and Raelle hibernating for who knows how long and easily waking up because her wifey called. Look how happy they both are, just hearing each other’s voices.
And can I just say… Raelle is a smokeshow in this short scene!
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I am in love again… *dead*
What a great comeback scene. Hopefully, now that she’s back, the pace will pick up now. Seriously, we’re at episode 6 now. I am so ready for some action scenes that’ll keep me at the edge of my seat.
Warning: SPOILERS ahead. Scroll away if you don’t want it. Otherwise, read my usual mad ramblings.
Now, we’ve established that Willa is still somewhat Willa, but she’s some sort of mycelium pawn getting rid of the Camarilla men in charge poisoning the mycelium.
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It’s so fitting, choosing Willa to do this. Who else would do a better job than a mother who died protecting her child? Maybe the mycelium really was just protecting her chosen one, no matter how dodgy she went about it. But I’m glad all the drilling sites are found now.
Raelle is coming back.
This episode is somehow all about reuniting and finding hope.
Abigail reunited with her mother. Anacostia is back in the fold, too.
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I’m always glad to see Abigail and Petra being affectionate. It’s such a massive difference from season 1. And now, Adil is part of the family, too.
Then, Tally made amends with her mother—which is just so beautiful.
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They both found out that they’re not so different after all. They’re so alike in being firm in their beliefs. Who knew Tally’s mother was such a badass, too? You’d think the matrifocal compound would be the first ones to bend over to the Camarilla, but they’ve definitely got their backbones intact.
Tally needed this from her mother. Maybe now, she could believe in herself more.
And then we have Scylla with Raelle’s father. I just love their easy but going stronger bond.
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Collars do have a way with pulling a genuine smile from Scylla. They’ve accepted her with open arms, despite her morally-gray past. Even Quinn, I bet. Our little necro bean has come a long way.
Raelle had changed her for the better. And that’s love.
And that scene where she begged Willa to bring Raelle back or take Scylla to Raelle—whichever the option, it doesn’t matter.
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Scylla was willing to go to the unknown, if only to be with Raelle. And when Willa said sorry, you can see the devastation on her face—her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Kudos to Amalia for being so brilliant as always. I felt that so much. And Edwin’s cries, too. Damn, my heart.
Raylla’s reunion scene better be soooo epic. Then again, it’s Taylor and Amalia—I know they’ll do justice to this much awaited scene. Also, on a side note, how many reunion scene of Raylla do we have?? It’s too many, I swear!! Why keep them apart?? Never again, okay! Haha.
Anyway, if there’s any pro to Raelle being kidnapped by a mushroom, it’s that Scylla has finally earned a place in the unit.
I mean, look at this.
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This. Is. Beautiful.
I’m sure Raelle would be happy that they’re somehow all getting along now. Now, if Abigail would just stop the Spree comments, it wold be even more perfect. Seriously, I know Abigail always refers to Nicte when commenting about it, but it still hurts Scylla when she hears those, too.
Then, last but not the least… Alder.
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What an inspiring scene. Again, hope is definitely the theme here. She knew everyone at Fort Salem was losing faith and hope. They’ve lost so much—so many of their sisters dead, their freedom gone, their safety and future compromised. And so her appearance showed that a higher power was at work. There was hope.
I’m holding on to hope that this show gets taken by Netflix or Hulu. This show, as I’ve said again and again, is vastly intricate and well-versed. There could be more to this story. And the cast and creators—all brilliant. They cater to fans, they take care of their own. They deserve more seasons.
Let’s keep our fingers crossed.
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cjsees · 1 year
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teamfortresstwo · 8 months
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Still clinging on to the hope that TMP is going to be non-eye coded. I hope it’s like web or spiral or fuck if it’s corruption or lonely that’s be great!
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suguann · 21 days
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Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.
He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 
(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)
“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”
“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”
A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”
“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”
“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.
“So? Let them stare.”
Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 
“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    
And then Mio kicks the ball into— 
The wrong goal.
“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.
Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.
The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.
It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 
He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.
Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.
That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”
“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.
“Were they?”
“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”
Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—
“Where’s Mio?”
A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”
Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 
“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”
Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.
“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 
You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.
You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.
“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”
Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 
And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”
(Who knows?
Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)
Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.
(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 
That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—
“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.
“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.
You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.
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florencemtrash · 7 days
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Take it Off - Azriel x Reader
Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?
Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him
Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes
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Is this a fucking game to you?
Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.
Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 
I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.
Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 
You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 
The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 
But that was his own fault. 
You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 
No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 
Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 
“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 
You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 
His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 
As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 
Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 
No.
  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.
You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 
Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.
“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 
You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.
You held one up for a better look. 
“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 
“I have more just like them.” 
You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 
Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 
“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 
“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 
“It’s nothing.”
“I doubt that.” 
There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 
He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 
You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 
“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 
Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 
“Yes… I know.” 
How long do you think he’ll last?
Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.
Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 
Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.
Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 
Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 
He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 
It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 
He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 
I give it another week. Nesta declared.
Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.
In the end they were both wrong. 
It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.
“Take it off.” 
You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 
“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 
Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 
“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 
It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 
Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 
He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 
“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 
“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 
“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 
“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 
Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 
“I’m… going to leave now.”
“Wait—Feyre!” 
The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 
Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 
She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 
It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.
Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 
I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 
I won the bet, Nes.
You didn’t win, we both lost!
Semantics. 
Why you bas—
Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 
“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 
Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 
You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 
He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 
“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.
“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 
He flinched at that word — friend.
“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 
“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.
“Clearly it’s not nothing.”
“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”
You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.
“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 
His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.
“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 
“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”
That was… not what you were expecting.
You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 
“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 
“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 
Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”
Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”
You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 
“Well?” You snapped. 
Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 
You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”
“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 
“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”
“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 
You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 
Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”
“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 
“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 
Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 
When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 
“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 
Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 
Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 
His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 
But his hands. 
His hands. 
You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 
He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.
This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 
You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 
He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 
You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.
Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 
Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.
You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.
Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 
“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 
He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.
“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 
“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 
One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 
Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 
“I’m so sorry—” 
“Azriel, it’s ok.” 
“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 
“You can buy me more.”
Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 
He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 
Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 
He couldn’t help himself. 
He started laughing too. 
What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 
Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 
“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 
Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 
Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 
Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 
“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 
His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 
“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 
You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”
“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 
“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 
“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 
Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!
His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.
“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 
A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 
“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 
Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”
Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 
“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 
The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 
He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 
His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 
All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 
You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 
A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 
“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.
He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 
“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 
“We’re not going to my bedroom.”
“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 
He didn’t respond.
Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 
Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 
“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”
He smiled. “Only for you.” 
“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”
“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 
“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.
“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 
Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.
"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.
"Ready."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 
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bunnis-monsters · 17 days
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OK SO- I fou d you from your werebunny post which-
BTW
Was really good?? I- it made me feel things- If possible, more werebunny crumbs please? It could go either sfw or nsfw, I don't mind! (Or both but its up to you!)
NSFW
It’s always fun watching his cotton tail wag with excitement when you’re near. He has the cutest pink nose, soft bunny ears and a fluffy tail that goes crazy with every kiss and touch.
Momo, your pretty bunny, really enjoyed having you near. His heart would explode with joy every time you kissed him, his bunny ears flicking as his nose twitched.
“Mmph… love~”
He couldn’t stand being apart from you, living in separate homes just wasn’t an option. He set up a nest in your room within weeks of your first meeting, unable to be away from you for more than a few minutes.
Lately, he had been extra clingy, and very possessive, which was uncharacteristic for him. Usually he was pretty submissive and sweet, almost like a lap pet that wanted all of your attention… but now he was more like a guard dog, constantly on alert, his body always subtly in front of yours.
It was only when you woke up to him humping your leg, his face buried in your neck that you realized what was going on.
He was in some kind of heat or rut… whatever it was, it was making him cling to you, desperate to mate and keep you safe.
All he wanted was to be close to you. The first stage of his rut had him making a cozy little nest in your bed, then spending all his his time snuggling you, his cute fluffy tail wagging furiously as he pulled you in for more kisses and nibbles.
The next stage… you weren’t ready for. You had sec with Momo before, but this was his rut. He was insatiable, fucking into your cunt fast and hard, unlike to gentle, sweet love making you usually experienced.
And his stamina was way too high, one breeding session lasting nearly 5 hours. Every time he came, he bit down on your shoulder or neck, his hips fitting against you as he begged for your forgiveness.
“Sorry, so sorry… just need it so bad, angel! Need to… g-give you my litter!”
After each session, he ignored his own exhaustion and pampered you, purring and bathing you, letting your head rest on his chest as his cotton tail wagged. Momo felt terrible, breeding you for so long… but he just couldn’t help it! His rut made him so horny, and he could only focus on filling you with cum and impregnating you!
But he adored you so, making sure you were treated like a princess once your baby bump began to show. Momo was so proud, not able to keep his hands off of your belly.
“My princess… gonna be a good mommy, the best…”
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moondirti · 1 month
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cw: dubcon humping. gn reader. he’s just a little pent up guys.
gaz is absolutely the type to squeeze you into a hug that lasts a bit too long.
idk, maybe you’re his best friend or something. someone he instantly clicked with at uni and who’s stuck around despite everyone else in his life falling away like pastry crumbs. devotion that isn’t romantic nor entirely platonic in a sense, but a secret third thing that has you inviting him to stay the night when he returns home and his flat is too far a drive for someone so tired.
you greet him at your door when he arrives. he’s bulkier than when he left for deployment, fills up the arms of his t-shirt and the thighs of his pants. smells like sweat and the faint traces of his cologne (Y by yves saint laurent. you’d gotten it for his birthday.) so sexy you might as well abandon your propriety and slip a hand down the course hairs of his happy trail. but you don’t. instead, you go in for one of your patented this-isn’t-more-than-a-friendship half hugs.
which he does not take. as your one arm hooks around his neck, both of his wrap around your waist and force you to embrace him fully. it’s crushing. so tight you have to lift your head to breathe properly. he lifts you off your feet and sways you back and forth as he whispers little complaints; things about stubborn CO’s or unnecessary bloodshed. you allow it because it sounds like he needs it, this small comfort.
except it verges on longer than a few seconds. longer than proper for a pair of good uni friends. his hand kneads the flesh of your back, and his hips grind against your groin. is he hard, or is that a gun he has yet to unarm? you can’t tell, but it seems to work for him when the hard mass in his jeans catches the canyon of yours. he groans quietly, stuttered, as his thrusts gain pace. as he tightens himself like a cobra around its prey. as he plants his lips onto your neck and starts inhaling the scent of your freshly washed skin.
“…kyle?” you whisper, awkward hands flailing about behind him. your voice comes out in a strained way, vocal chords crushed against his shoulder.
“jus… give- fuck. give me a moment, mate.”
so you do. it doesn’t last much longer after that, anyway. his grinding grows brutal, knocks the little air left out of your lungs. it hurts to a degree. he’s hitting the tendon between your leg and crotch – and you’re sure it’ll be tender in the upcoming days – but you don’t voice your troubles to the man around you, who unravels at such a startling pace you know he’s too far gone to pay proper attention regardless. how else would he be bold enough to grope the plush curve of your ass? two hands latch onto it like dough, anchoring you up so the angle hits just right.
and then he starts to get sloppy. his rhythm loses pace. his stance widens and he fucking whines into your ear as a wet spot spreads across the front of his pants. you’re so dizzy that, when he lets go of you, you have to hold onto his forearm to steady yourself, blinking owlishly at the grin that stretches across his face. as if he didn’t just hump you and cream in his clothes. why are you the one caught off guard?
“thanks for that.” he winks, then pets the flyaways off your temple.
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bitchlessdino · 3 months
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Reckless (m)
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Pairing: adult actor!mingyu x pervert afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 4.8k tags: camboy!mingyu, established friendship, banter, brat!reader, glass toys, invasion of privacy, rough play, anal, double penetration, degradation (pervert, slut), choking, spanking, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), swallowing, hair pulling, deep throating Summary: Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of. author note: finally the awaited winner, camboy!mingyu! still so crazy he won over multiple reverse harems on the poll. tagging my wife @wongyuseokie because it's her birthday and deserves to wake up with some NASTY mingyu smut. thank you @highvern for beta-reading to better this fic and like both of us are saying, mingyu is a fucking freakkk in this so enjoy my babies.
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @onlymingyus
You have only seen the room in passing personally, but countless times over video. You’re not even shocked by the dozens of expensive toys he’s put in those glass displays, so used to seeing them enter a human orifice one way or the other. The burly man bashfully guides you away from the scandalous room, skillfully diverting your attention to the lush foliage he's entrusted you to tend to, a gentle blush adorning his warm-toned cheeks.
How you keep the fact that you have been secretly watching your friend’s cam shows–including the charity stream of him doing push ups in a singular pair of skintight briefs–was a mystery, even to you. 
It’s not like you meant to get addicted to porn. But Mingyu, unapologetic about his line of work, practically served it up on a silver platter for you. He says he could use all the help he could get, but frankly, he couldn’t have it more easy. 
With that body, that hair, that face, that smile, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d be a fan favorite and you were right. He’s now one of the rising adult content creators in his line of work, heavily acclaimed in the cam category and recently in independent film. That’s what his trip is about, awarding him for his hard work that he never thought he’d accomplish.
It fills you with pride, yet piques your curiosity; fusing platonic and sensual feelings that blur the lines between friendship and desire for Mingyu, actualizing this full fledged crush. But you’d never let him find that out. Not unless it was against your will.
“And that’s pretty much it. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory. I’ll be back on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday, hmm?” Your eyebrows bounce in place suggestively. “Thinking of pursuing personal projects while working?”
He shrugs like a timid schoolboy, cheekbones pigmented and perky like bright ripe cherries. “No promises—Now, repeat back to me everything I’ve told you to do.”
You playfully roll your eyes, offended he had the gall to doubt you. “Water each green buddy once a day; keep crumbs off tables, counters, furniture, etc; put everything back where it should be; and,” you start to grin, “no sex parties, even though this is the perfect place for it.”
“Okay, that last one was obviously a joke but very much serious. Although tempting, under any circumstances, do not fuck anyone in this house while I’m gone.”
“So circumstances would be different if you were home?”
Getting a shade brighter in red, he points a demanding finger at you like a stern mother, “I mean it.”
“Yes, mom,” sarcasm coating your tongue.
“Good.”
Mingyu, armed with a suitcase containing all his essentials, casually waves you off. There's a playful authority in the final point of his finger, a silent reminder to behave before he disappears behind the imposing door.
You promise him you’ll do your due diligence in taking care of his home, and that would be an easy enough task, the real problem stems from the temptation of one specific room. Mingyu’s cam room.
Distinct from the usual rooms such as the bathroom, Mingyu's kitchen, and his primary bedroom, this space stands alone, akin to an office. Mingyu himself has shared its origin story: starting from the sweetest of riddances of a god-awful roommate, followed by many desperate nights to cover the remaining monthly rent, ultimately giving birth to this room that many of his fans like to call ‘Sinner’s Safehaven.’ So rightfully acclaimed.
You’re a fan of yourself, able to outline the bedroom from memory and recollect every toy from every live stream he’s ever posted. Unable to resist the temptation, your feet instinctively embark on a self-guided tour. Your eyes are bewitched by the intricacies of every weapon of pleasure, every scent of his array of miscellaneous liquids, every phallic-shaped object that stands tall and mighty like a national monument.
It’d be a lie to say you weren’t tempted to take advantage of the opportunity, maybe just to get the sick idea out of the way. Your hands manage to find a mind of their own, reaching over to unlock one of the glass displays, wrapping your hand around the object’s girth, and taking it out from its confinement for a closer view.
A stunning crystal toy that reflects off the lights of the room, looking in pristine condition as if fresh from packaging. If Mingyu is good at one thing it’s maintaining his tools, and he does not let anyone forget.
Ever since he showcased it on screen, you've desired to covet one just like it, inducing a late-night web surf to discover the outrageous out-of-reach prices for a product of such exceptional quality and aesthetic appeal. It does not look to be in the cards for you to own one, but borrowing wouldn’t be a problem. He did say everything only needed to be put back in place and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Following the devilish voice whispering in your ear, you slip into something more comfortable, letting the well-conditioned air blow a draft against your bare legs. You hold the toy excitedly before dipping your weight in the bed, the silk sheets and pillowy cushion embracing you at all sides.
The knowledge that the infamous crystal dildo is in your hand makes your heart pound and pussy throb. You can count all the videos of it being featured with one hand, and despite it all, you know it had to be Mingyu's favorite. 
One particular video comes to mind as you hold the tip against your inner thigh, moving it identical to the way Mingyu held it against him, realizing they are coincidentally the same length, same girth, and same tantalizing presence. You practically dreamed of having him and this toy inside of you for months after that show and now half of that dream would be possible.
Your fingers didn’t have to be inside you to know you’re wet, practically soaked through your panties the moment you laid eyes of Mingyu and his sex room. Fuck, if you aren’t so damn ashamed of the truth of your feelings, you’d never let him out of your sight. 
A long note of your moan exhales as you insert the tip between your wet folds, introducing the strangest yet arousing thing to be done to you. It’s certainly big as you expect it to be, maybe even more as you plunge it in deeper. Affirmations exit your lips in short bursts, your other hand up your shirt as they tease your nipples through your bra.
Your legs crutch in reaction to its ridged shape massaging your walls, then the cool hard surface finds that familiar hotspot, unfortunately only halfway down its length. Your cheeks flush imagining Mingyu’s face, imagining the words to come out of those lips if it were his cock.
‘Already? I haven’t even put it all in yet.’
It fuels your determination, deadset in taking all of it—all of him.
‘You can do it, can't you? You can take my cock for me?’
Somewhere, lost in the contagious air of sex and starvation, your mind runs rampant. Your hips buck into the crystal, letting it settle inside you all the way before you thrust it harder. You hiss at its size, expelling a moan once you no longer feel its shaft around your fingers and just take it, take it as if it a canine smile were on the other end.
‘So good…so good at taking all of my cock.’
“I am being good,” you mumble under your breath. “So good...”
Your whimpers go unnoticed by you, only worried of the dildo carrying on its mission. Sensation running down your legs and arms, and your hips hover over the mattress. Your back arches and you spell his name out in the only way the body fully intends you to: in longing breaths, “Mingyu…please…”
‘What? What is it?’
You groan at the image of his smile. “Let me cum please…”
‘Do you deserve it?’
“Yes, Gyu, please…” You thrust faster. “Oh my god—“
‘Yes, that’s it. That pretty pussy should cum all over my hard fucking cock.’
“Yes, yes!” Your arousal seeps all around you, a visible stain beneath your thighs and you don’t care. “God, right there! Right there—“
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Then it becomes no longer your imagination. The voice you’ve created in your mind had an echo, lingering in the depths of your filth rotted head, but the one you just heard had to be the original.
You scramble to hide under the sheets, eyes as big as saucers as the man of your fantasy stands clear in your reality at the foot of his bedroom. “M-Mingyu. The train.”
“I forgot some things. Couldn’t leave without them, so I told the driver to turn back.” He peers over your situation, intrigued by your legs folded on top of one another beneath the covers, the proof trepidation of your forehead, and your lips swollen from instinctive biting. “What do we have here?”
You laugh nervously, unprepared for the shitshow soon to arise. “I see how this looks—“
“Looks like you’ve had a bit of fun.” He huffs with his arms crossed as he approaches, the human made stain plain in sight on his bed sheets which you’ve fail to cover up. “Too much maybe. And all by yourself.”
“Well, you see—“
“And the mess you made.” His hand pushes against the mattress, leaning over to your side and drinking in your view. “All over my bed. All over my Crystal dildo.”
You avoid his gaze, wishing to disappear in a cloud of smoke right about now. “Okay. You can understand how this would bother you.”
“Oh I’m not bothered by it—not in the slightest—but…you could’ve at least waited until I came back.”
Mingyu pulls the sheets off of you and he exposes your guilt, seeing it in its raw, glistening glory. His eyes scan over you, swallowing at that scent revealed, and a fire lights up in his stomach. “Dirty little pervert can’t stop saying my name while using my toy, hmm? Don’t you know better to touch things that don’t belong to you?”
“I…I…I’m sorry,” You squeak.
“Well, I can’t just let this go now, can I?”
You shake your head, breathing through your nose. You’re scared of him hearing how fast your heart has decided to pound, how wet you’ve become well after your orgasm, and how dry your throat is after you heard him call you a pervert. 
Wordlessly, he takes the glass dildo from your fingertips, claiming what’s rightfully his, and plunging between his lips halfway down its shaft. Your eyes capture it in full color, reveling in the moan that slips past his lips. Your chest rises and falls watching him take it deeper almost effortlessly as his slack cladded knees dip into the mattress. 
“Mmh…who knew a pervert’s pussy could taste so sweet,” he mumbles, smiling into the toy. It leaves his mouth with a pop before it aims back at you. “Taste it. Taste how sweet your dirty pussy is all over my cock.”
Your stomach coils, reluctantly obliging to crack open your mouth. Mingyu hums, content with what he sees as he eases the toy towards your mouth. “Don’t be shy. Take my crystal cock, perv.”
Your lips wrap around the head, tasting the salty, faintly sweet, flavor lingering on the glass before it travels past your lips.You look back at him, almost as if waiting for his instruction, and receive a stroke on the back of your head as a response. 
“That’s it. Let it go deep down your throat. Have to make up for ruining my bed, right?”
You nod, unable to speak as you bob down, licking up what you can and collecting every inch of the toy. His eyes become a dark pit that stares back at you, dominance taking over his entire presence. He doesn’t speak, only watches and for what feels like forever, pushing the toy in and out of your mouth.
Your muffle around its girth, tears starting to brim your eyes as it hits the back of your throat, but it doesn’t falter Mingyu in the slightest.
"You're crying. Does it hurt?" Mingyu asks in a domineering tone, to which you nod. "Do you want me to stop?" he inquires, to which you shake your head.
His lips graze your ear, and you sense his charming smile whispering against your skin as he replaces the imaginary devilish voice with his very real and alluring one. “Then deep throat it like you mean it, you fucking slut.”
Your lips parted wider, a shattered moan aches out, only to have the toy stuck down your throat long enough for your tears to sting. Gasping for air, Mingyu finally shows mercy and unplug your airways. Coughing uncontrollably, salvia dribbles down your chin as you retrieve your stolen oxygen. His hand tenderly caresses at the back of your head, threading through the tangles of your hair.
“Good job,” he says in a hushed voice, picking your face up by your chin. “Now. Do you think that was an appropriate punishment?”
He tucks your hair behind your ear, lethally silent as he anticipates your response.
It takes you a moment to realize where you are, who you're with, and what this all meant for you. Mingyu’s cam persona has haunted your inner thoughts, degrading you as if you were scum, tossing your body like a rag doll, marking and bruising your skin only he would find, and you relished in every earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm it’s caused. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.
“N-no. It’s not enough.”
“Is that so,” He questions amused. Slowly, his hand travels from your hair to your face, tracing your jaw in a languid movement and coming across your neck to size it in his large hand. “What will be enough for you exactly?”
The pad of his fingers presses the slightest amount of pressure on the column of your neck, emerging a gasp so soft Mingyu almost doesn't register it. He grins, hot breath fanning your face as he watches your legs squirm. It comes as a surprise to you when he single-handedly pins your body against the bed frame, leveraging you against it before he comes down and faces your pussy drowning its own cum. 
“I should at least have compensation done for the damage you’ve made, don’t you think?”
He grips your neck a fraction tighter before you feel his mouth make contact with your core. Physically vibrating, you feel the sensation of his tongue flicking at your clit, and visibly melt before he explores down. “You’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles condescendingly through your arousal. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re wet because of me, as if the screaming of my name wasn’t proof enough.”
“Mingyu...” you whine through your ceased breath.
“And you sound so pretty when you say my name too,” He groans as inhales your scent that blurs his surroundings, devouring you inside and out. “Fucking tease…taste so damn good.”
Mingyu’s chokehold loosens to cascade down your body, fingers moving like ribbons tracing your shape and memorizing every bump and curve through the thin layer of your shirt. Your voice gives out, clenching your fists as he explores you in swirls, moisture seeping out of your cunt but never ending and leaving you in an endless loop of pleasure.
He holds you up by your legs, your thighs crushing either side of his face as he buries himself in your insatiable pussy while its dripping down his chin and neck. He groans inside you, mustering every impish sound possible as he eats you clean, not minding how you’re at the end of your wits locking his head in place.
“G-gyu, shit,” you sputter. “I’m c-close.”
He simply scoffs, “Good,” plunging his tongue deeper, nose pushing against your swollen clit. Words stay lodged down your throat, trapped from escaping as you writhe in his grip and he swallows the taste of you succumbing to his control. You aren’t aware of the eyes watching every second of you give in, how they beam with pride and greed as he goes for more. The notes of fruit and musk only makes Mingyu’s craving intensify, unwilling to surrender the sweet nectar once he’s gotten his taste. 
With a yelp, he drops your legs and tugs you toward him, rendering you defenseless as he's clamped either of your side. You drink in his body towering over you as he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and off his body, bestowing you a deific image that you never grow tired of.
“Shall I help you undress?” He offers, kindly for once.
You drop your head in a reluctant nod and your heart swells at the sight of his smile before they capture your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.
Mingyu’s movement isn’t needy, it’s efficient and effective. Salty peppermint kisses and hands that move gingerly with ease culminate proof of a man that has countless amounts of partners and endless experience. Almost as if he’s ready for any and every given opportunity and you more than believe it.
Seeing as he knows how to handle himself, undoubtedly that meant he’d know how to handle you. That rouses you, anticipation resonating in the pit of your stomach, and like that, you’ve embraced your nudity just as Mingyu has in the safety of his firm arms.
He manages to kick off his pants, freeing him of the restraint of fabric and his hips dip into yours. And again and again. And again and again. Just to show you what you’ve created in your messy experiment. 
If you weren’t already hot under his touch, you swear the room was hotter than any vast desert. Perspiration sprayed against your back, your forehead, your chest, but strangely you’re obsessed with his and the incidentally salty taste of his skin as you kiss. “You feel huge,” you mutter in a flustered breath. 
His cock pulsates through his briefs against your thigh, screaming to join the party and make himself known in ways he hasn’t shown yet. Not yet with you. He smiles against your lips, grasping your hips more firmly. More definitely. “It’s too soon to be saying that.”
“Then…” Your fingers, tantalized by the appearance of his styled hair, didn’t resist the urge to comb through it, pleasantly surprised with the silky, pliable sensation. “I hope I get to soon.”
“Pervert,” he repeats with a grin. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it away from his head and landing on the hem of his underwear. Mingyu is good at getting back on track as he immediately pulls his waistband away from torso, springing his cock that stands in your direction in determination. A familiar yet foreign sight that you never expected to be on the other end of. “By the way, don’t forget. You’re making it up to me. Not the other way around.”
Naturally, your hand finds the ridged texture of his shaft. “Yes, of course.” You feel it twitch under his touch, growing as a nail trails up a singular vein. “But I never said I’d make that easy.”
“Really? A sentence where ‘you’ and ‘easy’ just seems to fit.”
You sneer at him, calming down after seeing an amicable jab you’re used to. “You’re one to talk.”
“And I won’t be done talking. On your knees,” He demands.
“Or what?”
Mingyu isn’t new to your taunting but he can't help the steam coming out of his ears this time around. Gathering your weight, he swiftly turns you on your stomach and props you up as his cock settles between the cheeks of your ass. “I’ll do things like that. I’m patient until I’m not. Not when it comes to perverted brats like you.”
You voluntarily moan as you back into him, allowing the cock to slide up and down. “I’d like to see it. Unless you’re all talk.”
A familiar coolness of glass finds itself home in your sopping cunt. You mewl at the sensation, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. The side of your head braces for the bed and letting the toy suction your pussy, buzzing . “Fuck…”
“Spoke to soon, didn’t you?”
“Have—fuck—mercy…” Your words speak like pleads but your body could not be more delightful in taking every inch, adjusting from the backside in record time.
“See? Look at you take all that cock,” he spits in the smack center, rubbing around your rim and pussy thoroughly. “And knowing you and our conversations, I know you can take it well somewhere else. Isn’t that right?”
“Y-you wouldn’t…”
“I can. Unless…that’s not what you want. Unless you want me to leave this room without putting my cock and you into let them fuck you like the dirty fucking slut you are.”
“Fuck…you…” The glass vanished through you, reappearing at Mingyu's will, muffling your protests, and swallowing the glass dildo satisfyingly from your cunt. The bedsheets become balls in your hand, wrinkled and worn, just as you planned to be after Mingyu is through with you.
“That’s not an answer.” He teases, thrusting faster.
“Shit…fuck…Yes please fuck, I want it. I want more. Please…”
“Excited are you, pervert?” He inquires, managing to grab the lube from a nearby drawer and squirt it on the ring of your hole. The bite of the cool gel stings in a way that’s familiar, but does not grow any easier as it physically and mentally preparing you.
“You…suck…Kim Mingyu…”
“I’ve already done that already, perv.”
Taking the crystal dildo out of your pussy, he carefully sets it aside, prepping your untouched hole for entry and feeling you clenched around his fingers. “So tight. What? Did you lie and you’re actually an anal virgin.”
“I’m not,” you moan in defense, hearing the erotic squelching burns your ears and makes your already hot skin scorching to the touch. His fingers are tolerable, but still bigger you’re used to and it’s more apparent as he inserts another finger. “I just never had anything that big. Nothing your size.”
“I’m honored.”
You hope that his cock could fuck you the way his fingers does, if not then better, already buzzing at the pace they move inside you, stretching you wider and wider.
“F-fuck off.”
“Not yet. It’s coming.” You feel the head of the dildo perk up your rim as it eases in you, the drip of lube between your cheeks drowning your hole and all the moisture it could ask for. Still, Mingyu is careful to adjust to your preference, opening you up and seeing how the toy slowly destroys you inside and out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your hands slam against the bed, allowing the gradual introduction to take over all your senses. 
“You’re taking the cock so well up your ass, fuck. I haven’t seen anyone do that yet. Remember you talking about it, made curious if you actually could.”
“I don’t lie…about stuff…like that…” you spread your ass, offering the perfectly lewd view for Mingyu, practically dripping all for him.
“Shit, I need to be inside you.”
He rolls a condom on his length, tossing the wrapper where he doesn’t see it and teases your slit moist in your cum. In the midst of it, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing your clit, and your whine ensue as you wait for more, not properly being used to the full advantage. Mingyu laughs to himself, seeing how desperate you look, reveling in the sounds that leave your body as it fuels his cock before he plunges inside you.It's an indescribable sensation, almost sacrilegious in its intensity, yet it leaves you convinced that Heaven must reside wherever Mingyu is.
You thought you knew the meaning of being spit open until it’s Mingyu reintroducing the idea. His cock and toy planted  so deep inside you, fucking both of your holes until you’re rendered into like what he calls you, a perverted little slut. You don't mind in the slightest; in fact, when the thoughts swirling through your mind are nothing but incoherent, you're utterly indifferent to anything else. Your state of matter was to be fucked, double fucked, and fucked to ruin until you’ve come over and over again.
“Stupid slut…stupid…perverted…fucking slut…Look at you…you like getting fucked in the pussy and ass, hmm?”
“Yes god yes,” you confirm, devoid of words otherwise.
He smacks you full against the cheek, groaning into the sex thicken air as he melts into your body like butter. “Yeah? How does it make you feel?”
“Full…”
“You like that?” Another smack to your ass. “Fucking pervert likes being fucked full. Big fucking surprise.”
His thrusts grow rough, already annoyed by the toy in his hands when he’s eager to plant both on your body and fill the full extent of your body. “God you’re hot,” he mumbles, “Why does a pervert like you get to be so hot, hmm?” He rams into you, feeling you jump back against him.
“Makes me want to fucking drain my cock in you, but no, I have—“ he slams again, a burst of ache living your lips, “—Work! God, I fucking needed this. I needed you and every inch before I needed to leave.”
You’d respond if you weren’t so occupied. He drowns your thoughts out every second he’s inside you, to the point nothing else exists.
“Shit, I have work,” Mingyu repeats as if dawning the thought for the first time. He lets go of the toy and manages to direct it with his thrusts, moving him and the toy into you at the same pace. You scream at him, shattered breaths taking over you, and his name is the only consistent, as you spread yourself wider to take it, left with only the base of the toy and the end of Mingyu’s shaft.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine incessantly, shaking and bucking into him until you cum all over his cock, undoubtedly flooding and dripping down the side of your legs.
But Mingyu takes his time and it tastes sweet than any candy, fucking your pussy and ass deeper, harder until his mind as gone as yours is. “Shit, shit, shit. Turn around and look at me.”
You do as told, dildo still in the pocket of your ass, as his cock is aimed at your lips, the condom abandoned just like its wrapper. His hands run in your hair, gripping from the root and he pushes you over the head of his cock, groaning as more pretty souvenir images for him to look back on. “Look at you. Good at taking cock there too?”
You nod, mumbling a confirmation before Mingyu penetrates deeper, noticing him lodged in you throat before bucking his hips in your mouth. “Then take it. Take all of my cum. Can’t leave another mess behind.”
Wide eyes of mischief look back at him, holding him by the back of his cock as you bob against him. He grips tighter to the back of his head, pulling and tugging as your hair become the size of his fists and you feel him hit the back of your throat. He now sees the white of your eyes, the flare of your nostrils, the quiver of jaw before it overwhelms him.
“Fuck, take it.” The load builds up to its full intensity, intoxicating him until theirs tears even in his eyes, the kind that supersedes one of joy. 
You hold his hips with both spreadhands, welcoming his release with closed eyes. You mouth gets flooded, blown up so full you’re close to choking, gagging from the contents dispersed in you.
“Take it,” Mingyu says fatigued. “You don’t have to swallow it, but take it.”
But you do swallow it, what you could anyway, and it’s inevitable that you’re a coughing mess when you unlatch from him, dribbling in a concoction of your bodily fluids and cum running along your torso, cunt, and legs.
“Okay,” Mingyu pants, “Now I really need to get to that train.”
You’re catching your breath as he cleans himself off with wet paper towels he had on hands, cleaning off the work of his cock but leaving the rest of him untouched. It’s fine, however, seeing as he glows with an air of lust, making him more charismatic than he normally did, and you’re brimming with pride knowing you’ve caused it. “I’m surprised you have that much energy off camera.”
“It helps, that it’s you.” He timidly admits, raising the temperature in your body. “And who said we’re off camera.” He points to the security camera at the corner of his room, reminding you too late that he’s used to using more than one camera to capture any and all angles. “I even forgot about it for a second.”
“Oh.”
“I can delete it if you want.”
“No it’s okay, but um….Send me a copy.”
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yuuuhiii · 3 months
Text
Geto teaching u how to give head
includes : 800 words , inexperienced!reader x geto suguru, smut, blowjob, explicit words,
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Suguru knew you were inexperienced and he explained to you that it was okay and he’d be ready whenever you were. You always were thankful of how patient he was, he was fine with just satisfying your needs.
However one night you were feeling extra needy and wet. Suguru wasn’t helping either.
You know your boyfriend can’t help how extremely hot he is but the way his baggy shirt and sweats hugged his body was making your thighs clench.
Suguru knows you, probably even more than you do yourself. So of course he notices your squirming, setting a big hand on your thigh.
“You alright baby?” His deep voice resonates throughout the room only making your panties grow wetter.
You shake your head, your doe eyes peering up into his. He lazily smiles, rubbing your thigh, slowing inching to your heat.
“What’s wrong? You need me?” He lightly teases and you nod.
“Well you got me pretty.” He lets out an airily laugh yet you bite your lip.
Right before he’s about to sink to his knees to have a taste your words stop all of his movements.
“Sugu, can I suck you off?” He gulps, clearly caught off guard by your question, a small blush rising to his cheeks.
“A-Are you sure?” He almost whispers and you nod eagerly.
“If you’ll be patient with me.” You fiddle with your fingers.
“Of course I will baby, c’mere.” He pats his thigh, however instead of sitting on his lap like you usually do you sink to your knees in between his legs.
He’s already hard at just the sight of the position you’re in. He can’t believe that the day had finally come. He helps you pull off his sweats and you’re met with fully erect cock. You gape at his length, it lightly hitting your nose.
“Y-You’re already hard?” You whisper, your hot breath hitting his tip. He shudders, smiling dazedly.
“See what you do to me?”
You squeeze your thighs, finally wrapping your palm around him. He sighs, gaze already clouded with lust. You experimentally twist your wrist, tugging at his cock. He hisses, his lip tucked between his teeth.
“Fuck, good start.” He huffs out, throwing his head back.
The sight of him crumbing just from your touch spurs you on to make him feel even better.
“Alright, the tip is the most sensitive part, just like your clit ok?” He mumbles and you nod, staring directly at it.
The next moment your tongue lies flat along his slit, making him gasp.
“Oh fuck.” He moans, resisting the urge to buck his hips. It’s not like it was his first time getting head but god did you make him feel like a virgin.
“I-If you can’t fit me all in your mouth then just jerk the rest with your hands.” You nod, slowly leaning down to engulf him in your mouth.
The moment your mouth encased around his cock, taking him deeper and deeper he moans loud.
“Oh my god baby.” He says breathlessly, his hands making a makeshift ponytail with your hair.
You gaze up at him with your mouth stuffed full of his cock and he swears he can cum just from the sight.
“Alright baby, bob your head but make sure to watch your teeth yea?” You hum around him and he whines.
When you begin to move, you hollow your cheeks, growing faster by the second. He’s a moaning mess, chest heaving and slightly tugging at your hair.
“Ngh—good girl, sucking me so good.” He groans.
Before he can even ask you to your taking him deeper until his tip hits the back of your throat.
“S-Shit!” He jerks, his balls tightening. You gag around him and release his cock with a pop, slowly jerking his tip.
“M’not gonna last much longer.” He moans, he’s slumped into the couch, his thighs shaking a bit.
You wanted nothing more than your boyfriend to finish in your mouth so you pull out a trump card, something you read online.
Without warning you deep throat him once again and he whimpers. You keep his tip hugged against your throat and at the same time you swallow around him, one of your hand moving to massage his balls.
He gasps, his hips bucking against you. His legs twitch and against your hold you can feel his balls tighten.
“M’cumming!” He moans loudly, hunching over you.
His warm seed fills your mouth and you swallow everything you’re given. When you pull of of him he’s a mess.
“Fuck, baby I came a lot.” He lets out a raspy laugh. You place pecks along his softening cock and he jerks again.
“Hey don’t overdue it, you’re gonna make me hard again.” He holds your chin and you smile.
“Did you feel good?” You shyly ask and he smiles, pulling you next to him.
“Of course I did, you did such a good job for me pretty girl.” He whispers, kissing you needly.
His tongue enters your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. You both moan in the kiss and his hands are gripping your thighs.
“Let me have a taste now yea?”
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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fairy-hub · 3 months
Text
“𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vampire!leon, light facefucking, some gagging, dacryphilia, praise, gentle (?) choking, overstimulation, cock-drunk, Leon’s venom gets you horny, your blood makes his body warmer for periods of time, Leon is a slight tease, some cock warming, light begging, mating press, some riding, biting, blood sucking, pain kink
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: crumbs of Leon 🙇🏽‍♀️
Oreo: for my Leon fuckers, the silver hair gives me vampire vibes, Imma blame another silver-haired vampire by a different name
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Leon holds your head down bucking his hips choking you with his cock. He groans as your throat squeezes his cock. “I wonder what you were dreaming my love.” Tilting his head back against the headboard. Softly groaning loosing his grasp on your hair.
Letting you glide his cock out to catch your breathe. Sloppily kissing underneath his head. “Waking up in such a manner.” He looks down at you with a gentle loving smile.
You kiss his balls, “Darling you’re getting cold bite me.” He let’s your hair go to cup your cheek. Grabbing your hip when you straddle him, grinding his cock against your warm cunt.
You softly shiver, his cold cock pleasure despite the chill. Leaning forward grabbing Leon’s thick pec. Moaning when the ridge of his cock head rubs your soft clit with the perfect pressure.
You beg, “Please bite me, I love feeling your fangs, the venom, knowing I’m keeping you warm while helping you feel good.” Tilting your head to the side showing your bitten neck.
Leon softly squeezes your throat, reminding you, “Tap my wrist if it’s too much.” He tugs you closer lifting you off his cock. Dipping his head down to bite above your nipple. Softly sucking flicking your nipple in between swallowing your blood as it fills his mouth.
Moaning from the sweet pain, slipping your fingers into Leon’s soft hair brushing it back. You reach down to grab his cock holding him up. Pushing your hips back gliding his thick cockhead into your wet cunt.
Leon bites his lip stifling his groans. “I love hearing her squelch, it’s like she’s talking to me.” You moan from the sweet pleasure of how he stretches your soft cunt. Leon pulls away, whining letting your neck go to grab your other hip holding you still.
You croon, “She’s begging for you to fuck her.” Clenching Leon’s hard cock trying to tempt him into moving. He bites your other soft tit, softly playing with your nipple.
A soft tingling warmth spreads through your body. Sparking an intense heat between your legs. He groans as your cunt spams around him pulsing in reaction to his venom.
He swipes your blood off his lips sucking it off his thumb. Loosening his firm grasp on your hips, guiding slowly on his cock. Your slick dripping down his balls.
He groans, “You are so warm, soft, wet and taste so delicious.” Grabbing your ass, fucking his hard cock into you. Rubbing your sweet spot with his cock head, his venom increases your body's sensitivity.
“Fuck!” You can’t think of anything other than how his cock feels stuffing your sloppy wet cunt. Resting on his chest, craving feeling Leon’s perfectly sculpted body on your’s. Biting his thick pec, he groans grabbing your hips, rolling you onto your back.
Wrapping your arms around Leon’s neck, slipping your fingers into his soft white hair. He grabs your soft thighs pinning you into a mating press. He groans, “I love taking care of your soft cunt.” Leaning down to kiss you when you let his pec go.
Leon keeps his pace steady getting you closer to cumming. “I should fuck you back to sleep. It is 3 am, you don't need to be cranky later.” He lifts up to admire your face, slipping his hand between to stroke your clit with his thumb.
“Your face looks so beautiful when you cum.” You can't respond, only able to focus on the soft texture of his skin rubbing the inside of your cunt.
He’s inside you, warm, thick and throbbing inside of you. Each stroke getting him closer to cumming. You plead “Want your cum!” Whining gushing on his hard cock, your cunt squelching louder, your thick slick soaking into the bed.
Smiling when Leon kisses your forehead. “Is my cock and cum all you can think about princess?”
Oreo’s m.list
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