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#i am taking my final breath here
oatbugs · 7 months
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#i havent come to terms with the fact that one of the people i held closest to my heart has graduated and i wont see him for a good while#until i can shell out the money to fly to singapore. i get the feeling this is the conductors first shift on the train.#(all the black and breathing rapture) so welcome to charing cross? are you ready? an adminstration error#you are covered in the metallic stench of the rusty chains of command. its time to make four thousand pounds. i thought of you.#here in the garden of england she scrapes the shards of glass from the black sea. first with a spoon and then a knife and the with the#hairdryer that belonged to his mother. in the back of his car i can feel the stutter and jutter of the wheels the same shaky-straight path#of a beginner driver. i love you and the trees. hes finally growing his hair out. here is an enclosed metal room#more man than machine. i wont see you for another year. driving dangerously close to an 8-wheeled tall box i feel safer with you#than i ever will at home. weve already started a campfire in the backseat of your car ive got you didnt i?#we laid in the luxury of a four-person tent next to the mass of campfires and stars and i told her i thought you hated me#I've never hated you. ive never hated anyone except my father. here is how to forgive unspeakable things.#i am really all that ive been looking for. youre not a narcissist baby youve just got a lying problem. take molten gold#and glue the fragments of yourself back together. we cant stop crashing into the sky. drink wine straight from the grapes in the vineyard#and when you give it give it all. studies have shown you view your own future self as a seperate person#and oftentimes you have less empathy for this other person than for a friend. it is time to extend your kindness unequivocally.#the aviation tax attorney on the train floating on water told us a short story of her life. a smile full of charisma and#feeling old retiring at 47. theres a lot about you we shouldn't know. GRAB A GUN AND SHOOT THE IMAGE OF YOURSELF STRAIGHT IN THE MIRROR.
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flintbian · 4 months
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Well, one year to go
#well at least im trying for that#ive scheduled round two for alaska and hopefully i see the lights this time#and my second favorite band announced yesterday they're coming here with guess who? another of my favorite bands#(blackbriar and battle beast may 2024)#i literally said the other day id be happy if i got to see them and now they're coming! can you believe it#but im tired...my health has plummeted and i am not doing well#im not going to last#ive just got to hold out for these last bucket list items#so im trying for the auora again in september around the equinox#ugh it's so bad im hooked up to shit all day now and constantly have to monitor tachycardia for instance#im exhausted. i can barely breathe. it hurts so much. i never stop shaking and spasming now#but hey ive started playing dnd...finally found a group. so that's crossed off my list too and it's been very fun so far#i need to get the motivation to read all the books i want to read#it aint in my control though...i just have to hope i can hold out until september#ive been trying lots of new foods but there's still so much more i want to try#but yeah im tired...every day i wake up from pain and feel like im going to die...if i sleep at all#even clare has given up it's progressed too much#but im trying. im trying#and ive been gathering all our family photos and things so theyll have memories#me and my dad take a selfie every time he visits too#idk. there's not a whole lot i can say without making people sad but it's been so much lately#i struggle to scrape through the pain every day. it's been 14 years. i just want to be free#it's not like i want to die...i just want to be free of the pain and rest finally#wish me luck#p
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pinkseas · 1 year
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on my hands and knees begging u to say your words about xiaolumi… i want to hear them… i’ll pay you back in art i prommy—
WHY WOULD YOU ENABLE ME LIKE THIS no need for art i literally owe you my fucking Life just for that one piece like oh my god. ohhhh my god. the amount of times i have linked that to my friends and waxed poetic and maybe cried a little. ANYWAYS. i am about to be So Silly And So Disorganized
so here's the thing right?? it depends SO heavily on how you interpret lumine. the traveler definitely has their own personality and agenda ingame but there's still SO much wiggle room in terms of what you do with that. if i really wanted to i could probably make it a Lot More Accurate by focusing on the traveler in canon and going from there however i will in fact be completely ignoring that and focusing on my interpretation of lumi specifically light and love <3 <- thats my little disclaimer ANYWAYS
they are So Similar in a lot of ways. young adults who are also centuries old. stubborn bastards who would give their lives protecting those around them even if they got absolutely nothing in return. so quick to throw themselves into the line of fire for the sake of friends and strangers alike. such a strong instinct to protect. not mortal, not by a long shot, but not quite gods either, something uniquely inhuman and in between. a centuries worth of weight on their shoulders. reaching their breaking points and pushing further still, refusing to let themselves crumble. and, even with very close companions, i think they're very lonely. there's no one quite like xiao in teyvat, no one quite like lumine without aether there by her side- maybe no one quite like lumine at all, anymore.
i think its about sharing. i think they'd find it easy to talk with and be around one another, even though they're typically so slow and so careful with trust. i think fighting together comes as easily as breathing, that their urge to protect lines up perfectly with the others and leads to them doing so much for those around them as well as each other. they will not let the other fall. they share the weight on their shoulders, share the centuries of bloodshed and horrors seen and caused alike, share in the unique brand of loneliness that comes with knowing that where someone was once by your side there's no one like you left.
vulnerability does not come easily to any of them. they can always push themselves further, always be a little stronger, always run a little faster. but its exactly that, i think, the recognition of someone so like themselves that makes it easier for them to trust in one another. lumine can call xiao's name when she needs him, xiao can find lumine if he needs her. i think that for all they would shoulder the world on their own and know the other would do the same in a heartbeat, they trust one another to come to them when they need help. it would be so, so easy to ignore it, to press forward, to remain alone. but they made a promise, and they intend to keep it.
i like to imagine that lumine's presence has a purifying effect on xiao. something she could control and channel should she realize, but for now something small, just enough to ease that weight. just enough to make sure he won't succumb.
i think a big part of it is about learning how to live again. they both carry that weight, that stubborn mindset, but wanting to see the other happy helps. knowing the other understands helps. when it hurts they can breathe together, and the type of pain they feel may never truly go away but they dont have to experience it alone.
every snowflake, every sunrise, every flower is just a little bit different from the rest. xiao's favorite quiet places are nicer with her there. they live so very differently but lumine's teapot is always there and xiao is no longer bound by his contract, learning ever so slowly how to let himself go. they have spent so, so long surviving. now, though, they remember to taste the fresh air, learn to indulge in the smallest things. lumine experiments with recipes until her almond tofu is catered to xiao's tastes exactly, the perfect texture. at night in liyue xiao tells her stories of the constellations and she remembers every word, at night in the teapot lumine will lift a hand and the sky will match her memories, her turn to tell stories about stars he's never seen.
they are both so, so tired. and i think that they would trust the other enough to let themselves rest. you can put your strength down. im sitting here with you at the kitchen table. you dont need to say anything. <- that quote is so them for real its shared silences mutual understanding and comfort always having each other's backs its twin moons twin stars two beings caught in each other's orbit and choosing every day to stay. sitting side by side on the mountaintop, hands entwined, lumine's head on his shoulder. breathing. loving. living.
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bloggirl8842 · 6 months
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My psych says I don’t like my mom or my ex because they make me vulnerable but I think it’s because they are/were both serial boundary violators. Well serial boundary violators sounds serious but I mean they are just good kind people who would not leave me alone when i ask(ed)
#i mean so am i so i dont exactly blame them but like. my mom doesnt knock used to hold me down and epilate my body doesnt take no for an#answer ever on anything unless youre MEAN to her and i dont mean anything serious i mean she asked me to go to the store with her to pick#out paint for her walls i said no she asked again i said no she asked again i said no so she went on her own and facetimed me so id help her#pick. my ex had a similar thing where if i was like hey lets not talk tomorrow im burnt out hed be like okay and then the next day early#morning he’d send a good morning text and then several more throughout the day and then we’d call at the end of the night#people do who not let you fucking breathe. i hate it. if i saw my mom less often id probably like her but her so much as sitting next to me#on the couch will have me tense and pissed. she also takes glee in hating things i like and its not a conscious or serious thing but its#really weird. ive done the same for her since i was little i dont know who did it first. like ok we’re moving our new place had wallpaper in#my room i wanted to keep it she wanted to remove it she agreed to keep it and then made plans to remove it bc she was going to get rid of it#at some point later on anyway for the house’s value or something. they removed it recently and she showed me a vid of the place and when she#gets to my room shes like hehehe its goneee like girl what the fuck is going on with you. she wouldnt let me change the decoration of my#room as a child it had to be the way she liked it. even my body had to be the way she liked it dude the epilation thing shed laugh as i#cried (in a shirt and underwear man) bc i was finally hairless. my ex was nowhere near that bad but again ZERO breathing room and whenever#id try to take some hed be like ‘’i just worry that if you take this space you’ll come back and break up with me’’ uh. yeah with that#attitude the breakup’s coming either way. he’s a good guy though just 24 and a man (both sad afflictions) he’ll shape up. or not. idk im no#t invested#he did listen to a lot of what i said just not the basic things of ‘’leave me the fuck alone sometimes’m#im annoyed that my therapist framed this as a me issue but shes right when it comes to me having trouble w vulnerability and i should just#clarify my pov here so she can change her assessment#my ex leaves me alone now. he does a great job at it i thiiink hes moved on which im happy about#i dont know if id ever want to be friends again though idk if either of us can do that#i cant. rn#i understand why he wanted so much from me though. i get it
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feverflushed · 2 years
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Unimportant rant in the tags but idk where else to vent
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saturnsbear · 1 year
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I cannot sleep at all ;w;
#it has not fully settled in but i think it will just take a long long time#i keep expecting something bad even though i am so comfortable here#it isnt even a present time feeling i dont think#i am afraid even though there is now distance.. the little one does not feel the distance maybe#does not realize. it has not fully sank in because not every part is aware of#the present. and then on top of that this is just so much#after everything i am okay only because other people made it so. and somehow it feels as if it could reach back#and touch the past. i am okay because other people made it so. a loop has finally been closed#that i didnt even realize was left open. i cant say i dont understand why i was so avoidant of asking#for help or needing help because 'if i need what i cant have im doomed either way why bother it hurts' was understandable#coming from that kind of nightmareish perfect storm. it feels like a nightmare now#that i have just woken up from. it doesnt feel real even though i am trying to hold onto at least#that i still need to go to therapy even if 'well *I* am not [part] so that never happened to me go away' is taking hold again#with more denial being even easier because now nothing bad is happening currently to me#what a trip. there was always fear and now its absence causes it somehow#there was always fear. and i was so obsessed with death because it was a comfort to at least get to know what i felt so close to me always#and now its breath is off my neck and only because people have been kind. it was not for any of my struggling on my own#all of that aside from what kept me alive was really fruitless. i have always needed others. it feels really strange#to say that now looking back at how i managed despite having no-one but it was not like the need was not there#it was even worse for being so totally unfulfilled. this is all so strange#some part of me feels afraid that the only way something this good could happen is if we are about to die#but i think that is a little silly. and it is so lovely to be able to say to the younger selves that it has gotten better#and they can be here with me where it is better. and nobody will hurt us anymore and it is safe and they are loved and every single wish#has been granted. it sounds so corny to say it that way but it really feels like it is so miraculous as to be impossible - if not for#experiencing it id have never believed this possible. that we can be safe at least from those harms#that time was all nothing.. it was nothing. 22 years full of barely anything worth living up til a few months that changed every single#thing. every single thing. how did i even live? it feels like breathing air for the first time#i have gone my whole life without feeling this and now i think i dont know how i ever made it through#but oh my god i am so glad i did#i am so glad i did.
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pumpkinspicestevie · 2 years
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I feel bad for my sister, we got her moved into her dorm today and she was mostly fine all day until we said goodbye when she had to go to her first practice after dinner, she just kinda shutdown and then had a breakdown and made my mom stay till her practice was over before letting her go home. and her roommate doesn’t move in until end of the week so she’s gonna be alone for like 4 days when she’s not at practice 😞🥺
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kleftiko · 4 months
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❦ HOW TO GIVE HEAD
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cw: mature, sexual content, blowjobs, swearing
here are the tips i give my friends so that they get 10/10 sloppy top ratings
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"baby~" you coo from beside him on the couch.
the corner of choso's lips lift slightly in response, but his eyes still focus on the screen of his phone.
"babe~" you call again. "cho~"
although your voice is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard in his life, your boyfriend grants you mercy and finally answers you.
"yes, baby?" he asks softly, eyes not leaving his phone but the small smile still on his face. he can't see the beautiful, but maniacal, grin on your lips.
"teach me how to give a blowjob~"
the tendons in his hand tighten, nearly cracking the poor device between his fingers. besides his entire body going rigid, his eyes lock onto yours, only to nearly lose himself in the look of lust in your gaze.
"y-you can't just ask that shit with a smile on your face!" your boyfriend sputters, cheeks and neck blooming with a harsh blush.
"but who else am i supposed to ask?" your question is just too pure and innocent for the look in your face, and yet, choso can't help but fall victim to you.
"fine, just-fine." he takes a tense breath before saying "sit."
with a little too much enthusiasm, you kneel on the floor between his legs, hands gently resting atop your thighs. you look like a doll to him, so eager to please and so pretty that his cock would twitch even if he didn't know what was going to happen next.
he runs a hand over his face.
"fuck, baby, don't look so eager." his deep voice is muffled behind his fingers.
you giggle. "can't help it."
"'kay, now—um—fuck." choso pinches his nose for a second, gathering his own courage to say, "you're gonna need, like, a lot of spit." while he speaks, your fingers dance across the waistband of his sweatpants, littering his v-line with goosebumps as you free his half hard cock from his boxers.
"it needs to be messy, yea?" you look up at him and lick your lips, coating them with a shine that.
he nods silently, jaw clenched.
"t-then, you're gonna wanna -fuck!" you don't let him finish when you take a lick against his tip. the rough texture of your tongue dulled by the coating of saliva you gathered across it. as you continue to pleasure him, he lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his grip tightening on the edge of the couch. the intensity in his eyes tells you that he's enjoying every moment, encouraging you to take him further down your throat.
"fuck." he whines, taking note of your comfortability, just like always. "breath through your nose."
your head bobs up, taking a breath through your nose now that your throat is clear. swirling the tip of his cock with your tongue, you tease him with slow, deliberate strokes. his hips buck involuntarily, a desperate plea for more. the taste of his precum on your tongue only fuels your desire to please him further.
"the tip-the tip, baby." your tongue pays special attention to the slit at the top of his pretty dick that's leaking absurd amounts of precum, and your boyfriend squeaked out a small, "yes, fuck."
as you continue to focus on pleasuring him, you eagerly comply with his request, intensifying your attention on the sensitive tip of his throbbing member. the combination of his desperate pleas and the taste of his precum drives you to further explore and satisfy him, ensuring his pleasure remains at the forefront of your mind.
"b-balls."
your manicured hands cup his balls. you gently massage and caress them, feeling their weight in your palms. the soft moans escaping his lips encourage you to continue, as you use the pads of your fingers and palms to fondle them.
"oh fuck."
it feels like a shame to waste your nails, so with one of them abandoning your boyfriend's sensitive balls, it creeps up to his v-line. You trace teasing circles along his v-line, feeling the shivers of anticipation ripple through his body. the combination of your delicate touch and the sensation of your nails grazing his skin heightens his arousal, making him tremble with desire.
the combination of all your minstrastions causes choso to buck against you, whimpering out obscenities as he jumbles out a warning of going to cum.
"fuck!" he whimpers as your lips release him.
spurts of cum fly into the air, landing in splats across choso's thighs, pants, and your hands as you lazily jerk him off.
the fucked out expression on his face and the mess he made of himself all because of your doing just made you crave him even more, so with one last move, you gave his angry, red, tip a soft lick, nearly causing him to cry in ecstasy.
when he calmed down, he gave you a look.
"you've done this before."
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belovedmusings · 6 days
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Am I Playing All Right Now?
Kento Nanami x You
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Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)
Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’. 
Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion
Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)
A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)
Read below cut:
The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 
You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–
He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–
“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 
“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”
His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”
Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”
He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”
“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”
“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”
“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”
That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”
It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”
“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”
The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”
“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”
“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”
He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”
“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”
“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.
Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”
He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.
“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 
“Maybe I want dangerous.”
He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 
He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.
Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”
You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”
“Expensive?”
The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”
A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.
“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.
He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.
Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.
“Can I?”
Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.
Oh.
No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.
You nod.
“Words.”
Oh, damn.
“Yes, you can.”
“Good girl.”
You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.
“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.
“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.
Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”
A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”
“Yeah.”
Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.
“Still good?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Your next breath is shaky. “More.”
He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.
“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”
“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”
“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”
He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 
You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.
“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”
“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”
You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.
What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?
Wait. Just a little bit.
“What about just the tip?”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.
Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.
Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”
Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 
“Let me decide that.”
His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 
As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.
You want more. 
You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.
Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 
It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.
Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.
In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”
The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.
You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 
You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.
A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.
“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.
All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 
“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.
“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.
“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”
The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”
“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”
Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 
“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”
“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”
You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”
He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 
“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”
You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.
The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 
“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.
His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.
It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.
You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 
Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.
Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.
“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”
You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 
“Don’t do that again.”
The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”
“And what’s that?”
“I want to test your limits.”
__
A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.
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yuutx · 3 days
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 ! (𝒢𝐸𝒯𝒪 𝒮𝒰𝒢𝒰𝑅𝒰)
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geto suguru x f!reader ノ 18+ content. ノ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ノ size kink ノ huge size difference ノ orgasm denial ノ ddlg dynamics ノ creampie ノ passing out / unconsciousness ノ mdom + fsub ノ not proofread ! ૮꒰◌´ତ `◌ ꒱ྀིა‎
i dnt know what exactly happened but i must confess that 2day i caught feelings for sugu . . out of the blu . . 4 no reason . . i am hopelessly in love with the geto sugubaby. shbdhn he makes me feel fuzzy, okay ? ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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You choked on a hiccup, dewy eyes peering up at him, the tears clinging to your lashes, a few fat drops sliding down your cheeks. Your quivering lips parted to speak, but the words stuck in your throat. It was difficult to focus on anything but the thick, pulsating cock stuffed inside of you. Geto smiled down at you, the expression almost tender, a stark contrast to the lewd way his hips rocked against yours. "Come on, pretty, don't keep quiet." He said, his voice soft and reassuring. "Talk to daddy, tell him what you're feeling." He prompted, his cock throbbing deep inside of you, stretching you open. You let out a pitiful sob, the sound followed by a breathless whine. "I-I'm.. full." You finally managed to choke out, the word sounding foreign, as if it had slipped off your tongue without permission. "Full?" Geto questioned, his brow arching slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes.
He shifted, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, your body jolting at the sensation. You felt dizzy, drunk off the feeling of his thick shaft spreading you open, the heat from his body emitting through his skin, warming you up. Your limbs trembled, your legs spread wide around his hips, his arms encasing you as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin. "You're not full, baby, you're barely halfway." He chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear. You whimpered, a fresh wave of tears springing to your eyes, a shaky breath escaping you. "I'm n-not…I can't." You whispered, your voice trembling.
Geto shushed you, his fingers digging into your skin, the pressure painful, but somehow soothing. "Of course you can." He murmured, his tone gentle. He kissed the corner of your mouth, his tongue darting out to lap up the saltiness from your tears. You shivered, your hands clutching at the blankets beneath you, trying desperately to steady yourself, but it was a futile effort. You felt like a ragdoll, boneless and pliant beneath his strong frame, his massive cock buried inside of you.
"D-daddy.." You whispered, unable to keep the word from tumbling out of your mouth, your head spinning. You were sure you were going to pass out. Your entire body was tingling, every nerve ending alight, a fire blazing in the pit of your belly, making you feel feverish. "I know, I know. It's so big, isn't it?" You nodded, the movement slow and clumsy, your heart hammering against your ribcage. "You're taking it so well, my sweet girl." Geto cooed, his hips snapping forward, forcing his cock deeper into your cunt.
You cried out, your back arching off the bed, the pain mixing with the pleasure, making you feel delirious with ecstasy. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging against the entrance to your womb, the pressure making you squirm.
"So tight." Geto hummed, his thrusts becoming more insistent, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, holding you still. "Can't believe you can even fit this much of me in here. Daddy's proud, princess.." He chuckled, the sound sending a chill down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, a small sob bubbling out of you, more tears spilling down your face. It felt like you were drowning, the sensations overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you up, stuffing you so full, so complete, was too much for you to bear. Your entire world was reduced to the way his cock stretched you open, the way his girthy length dragged against your slick inner walls, the way his happy trail brushed against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure dancing through your body.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy.." You babbled, your vision blurring, the sound of his voice fading away. You felt as if you were floating, drifting on a cloud of bliss, every inch of your skin tingling.
Geto hummed, his voice a distant murmur, the words washing over you. You felt weightless, a sense of peace and contentment washing over you, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, drowning you in its intensity.
"I c-can t-take it, I can take it, d-daddy.." You slurred, the words heavy on your tongue, your limbs turning to lead, your eyelids fluttering closed. "Course you can." Geto crooned, his hips rolling against yours, his cock pumping into you, a low moan spilling from his lips. "You're my good girl, aren't you? You were made for this, weren't you? Made for my cock?" And with a final thrust, his length embedded in you completely, your little cunt taking every last inch of him.
You couldn't tell if the darkness behind your eyelids was the result of unconsciousness, or if you were simply too dazed to open them. A dull ache radiated from your hips, your muscles protesting the position. But the pain was secondary, drowned out by the waves of ecstasy that rolled through you, making your limbs go slack.
Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart thudding loudly in your ears. You were vaguely aware of a wet, sticky warmth dripping down your thighs, a thick, heady scent filling the air. Geto's scent. His seed. The thought sent a shiver through you, a tiny whine escaping your lips.
"Daddy.." You whispered, reaching a hand out, blindly searching for him. You felt a large, warm hand wrap around yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here, pretty. I'm right here." Geto murmured, the smile in his tone audible. You relaxed at the sound of his voice, letting out a contented sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter open, blinking the tears away, finally managing to focus on his face.
He was hovering above you, a lazy grin spread across his features. "Hey there, beautiful." He purred, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek, wiping away the streaks of wetness. You stared up at him, unable to formulate a response, the words stuck in your throat. His expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your bottom lip. "My good girl. Such a sweet thing. Taking my cock so well. Such a good, perfect girl." He cooed, his tone almost reverent. You let out a weak, breathy giggle, the praise causing petals to bloom in your chest, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. Your gaze flickered to his face, drinking in his features, a small, shy smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He smiled back, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, the gesture sending a jolt through you. You could feel the weight of him bearing down on you, his thick cock still buried inside of you, plugging up your little hole.
You moaned with need, the sound coming out as a breathless plea, your pussy clenching around him, the sensation eliciting a low growl from him. You gasped, arching up, seeking more contact, more friction. He smirked, a devilish glint in his dark eyes, his hips deciding a shallow roll, the tip of his cock brushing against the entrance to your womb. You mewled, bucking against him, grinding against his pelvis, desperate for release. He laughed, the sound rich and deep, the sound reverberating in your core. You whined in response, the noise catching in your throat, the sound turning into a keening cry as the pace of his thrusts picked up, his cock slamming into you, the force of the action causing your head to spin.
You writhed beneath him, your body trembling, a dull ache pulsing through your sore muscles. You could feel his gaze on you, hot and heavy, watching as you came apart, arousal juicing your folds, soaking the bed sheets. "You're such a messy little thing, aren't you?" He hummed, his voice laced with amusement, a hint of pride creeping into his tone. "All wet and dripping. Just for me." He purred, his cock pulsating, twitching inside of you, his fingers digging into your waist, his grip bruising. You could feel yourself unraveling, the coil in the pit of your belly threatening to snap, the pleasure building inside of you, the tension mounting. Your head was swimming, a rush of euphoria flooding your system, the heat pooling in your abdomen. "N-neeed- hic need t-to cum." Your voice cracked, broken words spilling from your mouth, his length driving you to the brink.
"Not yet, pretty. Not until I say so." He growled, his tone laced with a dangerous edge, his thrusts becoming rougher, more urgent. "Gotta be patient, yeah princess? Gotta wait for daddy to fill you up." He hissed, his voice taking on a strained note, his pace faltering, his movements stuttering. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving, beads of sweat dripping down his brow, his jaw clenching. You could feel his cock pulsating, a tell-tale sign that he was close.
You squirmed, your hands grasping at his biceps, your nails digging into his skin, trying to anchor yourself. He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, his grip on you tightening. "Fuck.. f-fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum in that pretty pussy of yours.. gonna make a mess of that tight cunt." He grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic, his hips snapping against yours, a desperate, primal hunger taking over.
His cock slammed into you, his tip jabbing against the entrance to your cervix, and finally, finally erupting that sticky, creamy goodness into your aching womb. His cum shot into you in thick, powerful ropes, painting the inside of your cunt, filling you up to the brim, coating your inner walls. You squealed, your body convulsing, screaming for permission, and when he gave you that last, guttural command, you came undone.
Your body went rigid, a choked cry spilling from your lips, your pussy clenching around his cock, milking him, the pressure unbearable. You felt as if your soul had left your body, the pleasure wracking through you, your entire body shaking, your mind going blank. Geto shuddered, his cock twitching inside of you, emptying himself deep into your core. You could feel his hot cum oozing out of you, the sticky fluid dripping down your thighs, a warm, syrupy sensation trickling between your legs. You gasped for air, your vision blurring, colors bursting before your eyes, fireworks going off in your skull.
"S' much c-cum..daddy.." You whined, the words catching in your throat, your voice trembling. Geto smirked, a low rumble of a laugh emanating from him, his gaze roaming over you, taking in the sight of your ruined body, your swollen, tender lips, the smear of mascara beneath your eyes. He smiled down at you, the expression a mix of adoration and smug satisfaction, his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheek, pads of his fingers grazing over your jaw. "Mhm.. so much, baby. I'm sorry. I can't help myself, you know that. So sweet, so innocent. I just can't control myself when I'm around you.." He purred, the words dripping with honey, his voice smooth and silky, sending shivers down your spine. "You make me want to do bad things. Naughty, nasty things." his dark eyes met yours, a wicked gleam flashing in them, the pupils dilated, nearly engulfing the irises.
"Like what, daddy?" You breathed, the words sounding distant, faraway. Geto smiled, his teeth glinting in the moonlight, the sight of him baring his fangs at you, a predator poised to strike, making your heart stutter. "..Why don't i show you?"
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crispbang · 9 months
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PLS MORE DAD MIGUEL MY BABY DESERVES TO BE HAPPY
HERE TAKE IT 😭😩🫵
miguel o’hara as a sleepy papa
fluffy fluffy fluffyyyy
The bright, early rays of sunshine peeked through the edges of your bedroom blinds. Your eyes flutter open as you squint, struggling to adjust to the brightness. The familiar alarm on your phone goes off on your nightstand. Reaching for your phone, you tap the snooze button and stretch your arms above your head, arching your back.
“Miguel? Are you up?" you ask, face buried in your pillow. You prop your head up, noticing the empty spot next to you. Scanning the room for your husbands figure, you hear a faint cry. You immediately reach for your phone, opening the baby monitor app. You notice Miguel’s too large body wedged inside the large mattress with toddler railings around it, his hand resting next to your baby's head. Feeling a smile form on your lips, you exit the app, getting up to check on them. You climb out of bed, pulling one of Miguel’s sweatshirts over your head.
Slowly tiptoeing across the hardwood floor, your crack open the door to your eldest's room, seeing him fast asleep. You shut the door, walking over to the nursery, seeing the door already open. Walking over, you finally see your husband curled up carefully next to your baby girl, holding onto her dad's finger in her sleep.
You crouch down, resting a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. He flutters his eyes open from your touch, looking up at you. You smile down at him, brushing the hair off his forehead. He looked so tired, his curls tangled and messy all over. You gently finger comb some pieces away from his face, tucking them back, before rubbing his neck softly.
"Mi amor, let's get you out of there, hmm?" you whisper, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
He nods, sitting up carefully, being sure not to move the bed too much. You help him climb out quietly and he steadies his sleepy figure by holding onto your shoulders. You stand with him for a moment, watching your girl sleeping so peacefully, her little belly rising and falling with every breath. Miguel stands behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“She was crawling around until 3 am...” He mumbles, closing his eyes and burying his face in your neck. His voice raspy and low, sending a chill down your spine. You rest your hand on his cheek, sighing deeply.
"Thank you for watching her.” You whisper, turning to plant a kiss on his neck briefly. Miguel hums, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.
"M-mama?” Your 4-year-old sleepily mumbles, standing in the doorway. Miguel and you whip your heads around at the soft voice, seeing the tiny figure rubbing his eyes, holding onto his spider-man stuffed plushie.
"Hey baba, up already?" Miguel whispers, unwrapping his arms from your waist to pick him up. You watch the two of them walk into the hallway, leaving you with your daughter. Crouching down by the bed, you take in her perfect little features: her dad's eyes, and lips, her nose an exact replica of yours. You rub her cheek with your thumb gently, tucking the thin blanket closer to her body before exiting the room.
Returning to your bedroom, you find Miguel and your son laying in bed, watching a cartoon. You slide into bed next to them, checking the time: 7:00 am. Meaning Miguel only got 4 hours of sleep. You look over at him, catching him mid-yawn.
“Baby, why don't you and I go downstairs and watch your cartoons, hmm? Then we can make some breakfast?" You reach for your little boy, who already stretches his arms out for you.
Miguel looks at you through his tired eyelids, a hint of worry in his eyes. You help your son out of the bed, watching him trot out of the room and down the stairs, dragging his plushie with him. You pull the curtains closer together, darkening the room. Miguel lays his head back onto the pillow, rubbing his forehead. You walk around the bed to his side, tucking the blanket around his body. He grabs your hand, kissing the knuckle with your wedding ring.
"Get some sleep, baby..." you kiss his forehead, ruffling his messy hair. He hums softly, curling into a ball on his side and closing his eyes.
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he opens the mail
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Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.
Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price
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“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 
“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 
You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 
You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 
“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”
You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,
“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”
He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 
“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”
“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”
Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,
“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”
You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 
You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 
“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 
“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 
He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 
“Fuck me!” He shouted. 
“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”
“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”
Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.
“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”
She gasped, 
“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”
She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 
“You alright?” You asked him. 
“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”
You nodded,
“Yeah, just in case.”
He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 
“Captain, are you okay?”
“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”
He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 
Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 
“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”
“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 
“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 
You inched closer to him,
“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”
“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 
You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,
“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”
His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 
“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 
You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,
“Ahh, careful.”
“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”
“No, doesn’t hurt.”
He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 
Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 
Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,
“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”
You escaped his jaws for a moment, 
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”
Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,
“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”
She sighed, typing something into her datapad,
“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”
She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,
“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”
Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 
“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”
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Part 2
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cheonstapes · 3 months
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miguel o’hara stars in… ‘THE SWEETER THE JUICE’ o(^-^)o
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・゜゚・*:.。..。. miguel o’hara x reader .。. .。.:*・゜゚・
SMUT
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now he’s finally got you pregnant, he’s gonna do what he’s been dreaming of all these years. suck. those. tits.
same universe as this miguel.
cw; lactation kink, pregnancy, breeding kink (not really but yknow me), dry humping, titties, older nerd!miguel, they’re finally married!
800+ words
@cheonstapes : she’s back! again!
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if miguel had to pick a part of your body he loved the most, it’d definitely be your tits.
if you think he was obsessed before — you don’t wanna know what goes through his head as he watches you waddle around his house, carrying his kid, sighing every time you leak through another shirt. you had forgone a bra ever since you got pregnant, saying how uncomfortable they feel against your chest — not that he was complaining.
“for fucks-sake, again?”
he was so used to hearing you say that, he already had a shirt on hand for you to change into. you were so grateful for your doting husband that you completely missed that nasty glint in his eyes you usually only see when he’s bending you over the bed and fucking you raw — luckily for him.
“here, honey. lift your arms for me.”
as you do, he pulls the shirt up — the soiled fabric catching under your swollen breasts as he wiggles it off you. “ah, shit — thanks, baby. but fuck, am i’m so tired of changing shirts every 10 minutes!” you might be tired, but miguel cannot get enough of it. he was already so fucking hard, practically salivating at the sight of your bare breasts still leaking down your heavy belly.
“maybe you should just ditch the shirts all together, love — you know i hate seeing my beautiful wife uncomfortable.” miguel’s voice was a soft whisper in your ear, lips slowly tracing down the side of your jaw to your sensitive neck — kissing the skin so tenderly. his calloused hands gently massaged the taut flesh of your tits, probing and squeezing at your nipples to let out small trickles of that sweet milk.
“migs, how many times are you gonna say that?”
“as many as it takes for you to finally listen.”
the breathy laugh you let out did little to qualm the feeling deep in his gut — he was dead serious, there was absolutely no reason for you to be in shirts all the time when you have him to take care of you whenever you needed a good milking. his hips were already sinking into to the plush of your ass that he loved oh-so-much — especially with how much fatter it got during your pregnancy.
it was almost as if he had lost control of his body, a hand landing on your waist to bend you over the counter as he mindlessly ruts into you. “dios, nena, eres tan hermosa. vas a ser la mamá más guapa, ¿verdad? mm, my pretty, little mama.” miguel never failed to turn you on to no bounds, like, you have a walking greek god as a husband — but those fucking hormones were making it unbearable.
the force at which he was pushing against you had shifted your drenched panties to the side, leaving practically nothing between you and his drooling bulge. his fingers tightened around the fat of your hips, squeezing the flesh delicious hard as his free hand flipped you over — pushing your back against the edge of the counter. “shit…been waiting to taste these all fucking day, honey.”
mindful of your growing belly, he hiked one of your legs up on his hip — craning his neck down to suck on a pert nipple. wasting no time, and at a much better angle, he continued to grind against you — his tip catching against your engorged clit. “m—migs, baby, fuck…” the way he swirled and sucked so eagerly reminded you of when you first started dating, how determined he was to knock you up before the two of you even moved in together.
the taste was so addicting, some of your milk trickling down his body — dripping onto the ground beneath you. you knew he was about to cum, hard — his eyes had rolled back, breathing in heavy pants, hands rushing to pull down the waistband of his sweats. “gonna paint my girls in my cum, love — sé una buena chica y mantenlos juntos para mí.”
“‘course, baby.” you nodded breathlessly, squishing the globes of fat together as he pumped his cock dry — head thrown back as ropes upon ropes of his hot seed coated your tits, sliding into the self-made crevice. “god, what did i do in my past life to have a wife as sexy as you, mamí?” his spent cock bobbed against his thigh as he trapped you against the counter — kissing you deeply as his wet hands reaching up to rub the cum into the skin of your breasts.
“mmph — y’know, i heard cum’s good for the skin. it, uh, helps with the blood circulation in your tits — i think we should do this more often, love.”
“migs, if you weren’t, like — a whole scientist, i might’ve believed you. if you want a titjob, just say that.”
“…i mean, you said it — not me.”
all your home shirts were promptly locked away and never to be seen again.
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-new year, new waiting for cheon to get her shit together andpost!
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kaaaaaaarf · 5 months
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So I watched that episode of Our Flag Means Death where Ed finds the bunny and thinks it's a wolf and thought, what if Remus was a wererabbit and Sirius had no idea? Anyways, have a drabble.
Here I Am (a rabbit-hearted boy)
Hogwarts Era. 654 words. Wererabbit Remus. G.
Remus' floppy ears twitch unhappily. He had been so careful—so careful not to let his friends see the monster he becomes every full moon. He thought he was sneaky, when he made his way out of the castle before dinner—after the other boys had already left for the Great Hall, but here is Sirius, standing above him with wide eyes. He'd seen the whole thing, the whole transformation—running into the clearing before Remus could even shout at him to stop. Before his body bent and twisted violently into a monster.  Remus' tiny body shakes in fear. Finally, after an impossibly long moment, Sirius seems to come back to himself. "R—Remus? Are you—you're a werewolf?"  …I'm a what now? 
"I thought maybe you were upset about Snape ruining your Potions final when you didn’t follow us down to dinner, so I came back to find you and saw you sneak out of the castle. I decided to  follow you, but I didn't think...Oh my God. You're so...so...cute."  Remus' nose twitches in a way that he thinks sufficiently expresses his shock and distaste. He’s not cute. He’s fearsome! An abomination! Sirius, unafraid, crouches down and strokes a gentle hand over the tawny fur on his back.  Okay, well Remus doesn't hate that.  Sirius scratches behind one floppy ear, and it makes Remus’ back foot twitch. Sirius smiles. "Are you a friend, wolf? Merlin, wait til I tell James about this! Our Moony—a real bloody werewolf!" and then as quickly as he’d appeared, he's gone, running off back toward the castle. It's just as well, Remus is dangerous like this. As much as he would love some company on the moons, one bite is all it would take and he could turn Sirius, too. He couldn't live with himself. Remus has just finished snacking on some grass, and is just about to hop into the underbrush to play chase with the rabbits of the Forest, when Sirius comes running back, this time with James in tow. Great. "See James! That's Remus, he's a werewolf!"  James, who is bent over trying to catch his breath, looks up at him like he's stupid. "That's a rabbit, Sirius." "No...I saw him transform—that’s Remus. He's a werewolf." "At best that's a wererabbit." He looks down at Remus, his face twisted in thought. "Sorry Remus, just a sec. Sirius—" he looks back up at the other boy, pinching the bridge of his nose. “—have you ever actually seen a rabbit before?" "Well, not precisely...Grimmauld is in the middle of London, not exactly teeming with rabbits and the like." "Babbity Rabbity? Surely you've read Babbity Rabbity at least." "I'm pretty sure Babbity Rabbity would never make it into the Black family library. Not macabre enough." James sighs. "Okay well, I’m telling you that's a rabbit." James points down at him, and Remus twitches his nose, hoping it conveys how tired he is.  Sirius stomps his feet, insistent. “But his last name is Lupin, not Lapin! He's Wolfie McWolf, not Bunny McRabbit!” “I’m pretty sure his name has nothing to do with which were-animal decided to take a chunk out of him, Sirius!” Remus tries to hop away while they’re fighting, but Sirius spots him and scoops him up into his arms. “Oh no you don’t! Come on Remus, I’ll sneak you back into the castle—get you something to munch on. What do rabbits eat, anyway? Hay? Flowers?”  Human flesh.  “They eat grass and, like, carrots. Good call though, better get him inside before an actual wolf spots him. Come on, Remus.” And that’s how Remus finds himself, a few hours later, in a soft bed, snuggled under the covers with Sirius’ hand gently resting on his furry back. He supposes being found out isn’t so bad, and if he wakes up in the morning—human again, Sirius spooning against his back, he thinks that might actually be even better.
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fuyuluvr · 3 months
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i didn't mean it.
synopsis: your boyfriend says something and makes you insecure.
characters: iwaizumi, akaashi x gn!reader
warnings: angst to fluff
note/s: reuploading my old haikyuu works so don't mind me!
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iwaizumi:
you were on your way to iwaizumi’s house after oikawa texted you that he was being extra mean today. you held a box of pizza in one hand, as you texted oikawa back saying that you’ve gotten it under control.
once you got to his house, his mother opened the door with a relieved look on her face when she saw that it was you by the door. with a small goodluck. she sent you up to her son’s room.
you noticed that the hallway leading to your boyfriend’s room was messy. you sighed, knowing it was a result of him being fidgety. he couldn’t help it. and you can never blame him for that.
knocking twice on his room, you opened his door and saw him looking stressed by his desk. a few crumpled pieces of paper littered his floor as his head was between his hands, clenching his hair in frustration.
“haji?” you called out, noticing the rejected letter from one of the few universities he applied to.
he didn’t seem to hear you, having himself be lost in his thoughts. you closed the door quietly and set the food to the side. you carefully walked to where he was, not wanting to startle the stressed ravenette.
apparently, you weren’t careful enough as his head snapped when you accidentally stepped on a piece of plastic that you didn’t notice was there.
“what are you doing here?” his voice was straight up venom. the tone caught you off guard.
“oikawa texted me saying that you were in a bad mood.” you explained, taking a step closer to him in a means of wanting to comfort him.
“yeah well, i am. i think you should go for now.” iwaizumi said, not looking at you. you swallowed on nothing as you shook your head.
“i want to help, haji.” he scoffed. you knew it was all due to stress… or so you hoped.
“clearly you’re not helping around by staying here,” he retorted. your hands stilled by your sides.
“hajime, you know bottling up isn’t good for you.” you reasoned out. he rolled his eyes at you.
iwaizumi couldn’t help but ruffle his hair in irritation. he knew you had good intentions. you always did. but all he could think about right now is his stress and overthinking. all rational thoughts left the room by this point.
“bottling up is better than to talk with someone like you.” he didn’t mean that. or, that’s what you want to think.
“what’s that supposed to mean…?” your voice dropped. iwaizumi turned to face you.
“i mean, come on. you always want to know what’s going on with my life. you never let me breathe. i can think for myself. i don’t need you butting in with your irrelevant opinions. you keep talking as if your opinions matter to me.” his words came tumbling down, he couldn’t control it.
your eyes widened, something iwaizumi didn’t notice once more. too caught up in his rage to notice how you took in his words.
you never let me breathe.
you keep talking as if your opinions matter to me.
you nodded, keeping your emotions in check. iwaizumi finally stopped with his rambling.
“i understand, haji. i should go.” iwaizumi knew he should stop you, but he didn’t.
later that night, you received almost a ten page essay’s length of explanation and apologies. despite reading it and replying that it was okay, you couldn’t help but feel the hollowness in your chest as his words kept replaying in your head.
by the next few days, iwaizumi acted as if nothing happened and you did the same. your boyfriend, however, noticed that there was something off. he thought of it as the aftermath of the small outburst he accidentally let out on you.
it was by the second week that he noticed that you stopped arguing with him in terms of his choices, letting him wear that god-awful plaid pants oikawa bought him so they can match, letting him choose the movie even though he knew you didn’t like it.
the last straw was during your movie night. when he asked you if you wanted to eat chicken or pizza. he knew that it would trigger a response from you since you’ve always fought him in favor of chicken. it was a weird quarrel over the two of you that became a routine. so, when you gave him a shrug in response, he finally couldn’t let that go.
“what’s up with you?” iwaizumi asked as you were scrolling through your phone, staying unbothered. the time you spent on just agreeing with him made you used to just not giving his words a second thought and letting him lead the relationship. sure, you missed your old conversations but whenever you want to fight back, those words just keep circulating in your mind.
you knew it was due from his stress but you couldn’t help but feel like there has always been a root to his outburst.
“what?” you replied, still scrolling on your phone.
“is there something bothering you?” you shook your head, boring your eyes to the same video that looped in your instagram.
iwaizumi took your phone, forcing you to talk to him.
“give it back, haji.” you weren’t thrilled to be starting an argument, or a proper conversation with him.
“not until you tell me what’s wrong.” he said, you sighed and raised your hands in defeat.
“if you say there’s something wrong, then that’s on you. i can’t change what you think.”
“what are you talking about?”
“nothing.” iwaizumi was getting pretty fed up with the attitude you were showing him.
you knew it was petty, but you were too far to go back.
“(y/n)-” “let’s just watch the movie.” “fine.” iwaizumi gave up, sitting beside you.
“what do you want to watch?” he asked, turning to face you.
“you choose.” the television was turned off.
“what is wrong with you. you’ve been acting weird lately. first you stopped hanging around me and then you won’t even respond with your own decisions.” you sighed, not wanting to talk. in fear of accidentally breaking down.
“now you won’t even talk to me. what is wro-”
“god, you tell me i don’t give you room to breathe and my opinions are irrelevant and now you suddenly ask me what’s wrong.” you finally let out, tears pricking your eyes. iwaizumi’s eyes widened at your outburst.
you harshly wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, wanting nothing but to disappear so you don’t have to face him staring at you with confused expressions.
“what do you want from me?” you bitterly laughed. iwaizumi wanted to do something, so he did the first thing he thought of and pulled you to his chest.
you resisted, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. the both of you know that you were no match for iwaizumi’s strength as he pulled you even closer every time you try to move away.
“let me go.” your voice was muffled by his shirt. he held on tighter, wanting to erase those words he said.
“i’m sorry.”
“okay, now let me go.” he obliged a bit, letting you breathe as he pulled away from you slightly.
“i know you don’t want to hear my explanation. and i know you don’t want to hear a sap apology.” iwaizumi started, you nodded. willing yourself to listen to him right now.
he breathed in and out before he took a hold of your hands.
“i’m sorry for saying those words. i should have never said those things. especially when all you wanted to do was help.” you couldn’t help but notice how his voice got softer as he tightly gripped your hands.
“i was really stressed and i had no right taking it out on you. your opinions matter the most to me and you’re my breather whenever it gets hard to breathe.” you couldn’t help but snort at his cheesy words. he heard that sound and smiled a little, knowing you were loosening up and feeling a bit better.
“kind of corny, if you ask me, haji.” you said, he smiled at you before rolling his eyes playfully.
“whatever, loser.”
you leaned closer and pecked his cheek as a sign of acceptance on his apology. you knew that he was genuine. knowing that hajime has a hard time showing his feelings.
he smiled before turning on the television once more.
“okay, time to watch godzilla.” “no, we’re watching (fave show)-���
ah yes, this is how it should be.
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akaashi:
nothing went right in practice. bokuto was far more uncooperative, his rotation team kept missing his sets, and the other team kept reading his sets.
akaashi knows that this type of thing happens. there will never be a guarantee that you will win a match in volleyball. he knew that, but he couldn't help but think that it was his fault.
the setter is the one who touches the ball the most. the one who leads the orchestra.
it didn’t help ease akaashi’s nerves that he was on the edge and has been on the edge since the past few practice matches.
“hey, akaashi! lighten up, buddy!” bokuto said, slapping akaashi’s back with force. he nodded, trying not to let his irritation show. he knew that the team is lowkey terrified when akaashi gets irritated. the last thing he wants is to drive tension between him and his team.
the rest of the practice went by smoothly, or in akaashi’s thoughts, in a very mediocre way. that ‘smooth’ is just the nice term for it.
“akaashi!” this was the worst possible timing. he didn’t want to see you. at least, not right now. especially when he’s in a bad mood. “darling, what are you doing here?”
“konoha texted me and said you weren’t feeling okay, that’s what i’m here for!” you smiled as you pulled him into a hug, not minding that he was a bit sweaty before you pulled away to talk to the managers in glee.
akaashi sighed and headed to the showers. he planned to just drop you off in your house and deal with this on his own.
but of course, you wouldn’t let him. he let you hold his hand and drag him around while the both of you were on the way home.
you were happily talking about the newest episode that just released. akaashi was mindlessly listening, he wasn’t ignoring you but he didn’t want to deal with you as of the moment.
“right, so anyway. then an unexpected twist came like it was so unexpected! i did have my suspicions though! so, it’s all good.” akaashi was getting distracted by his thoughts, not giving you a reply instead of a mindless nod.
“akaashi!” you said loudly, startling the stressed setter.
“will you shut up?” akaashi couldn’t bite back his tongue fast enough as those words tumbled out of his mouth.
you stilled, not knowing how to respond to the outburst. you did feel like you were talking a bit too much, but you didn’t know it was bothering akaashi.
“sorry.” after that, the walk home was tense. none of you knew what to say to each other.
it was when the both of you were at the doorstep when akaashi pulled you into a hug and muttered an apology while his face was buried in your hair. you nodded and pulled away before giving him a smile and pecking his cheek before you went inside.
you knew you were overreacting but his words kind of hurt. you thought back to the endless rambles that you let out on your boyfriend before slapping a palm on your forehead.
you idiot. of course he wouldn’t understand. no wonder he told you to shut up.
with a sigh, you went to your room and tried to ignore his words.
akaashi was the definition of silent but deadly. he knew that his words stung. that’s why he refrained from biting you with his words. but he wasn’t able to stop himself due to the stress of his training.
you figured that he’s finally gotten tired of your rambling about any topic that comes into your mind so you forced yourself to stay quiet.
your boyfriend, almost immediately noticed. he was a powerhouse’s starting setter. he’s supposed to be perceptive in regards to his surroundings.
so, when he noticed that you weren’t having your daily rambles the day after a new episode was released, he knew that you took his words into heart.
“how was the episode last night?” akaashi asked. you were lying down on the floor while you were scrolling down your phone, checking the latest fan theories that were produced due to last night's episode.
your head perked up, ready to rant about how beautifully executed the plot twist was before you remembered who you were talking to.
it was great! the animators brought justice to the manga panel that i was waiting to get animated! then the sound effects were just woah.
there were a lot of things you wanted to say, but you settled and smiled. “it was good.”
“ah, really?” akaashi asked, wanting you to delve into the topic better. you, on the other hand, said nothing and went back to fawning over how your co-fans connect the dots into the most ridiculous yet intriguing theories.
akaashi couldn’t help but see how your eyes shined as you smiled, rereading a certain fanfic with your favorite character on it. you slapped a hand over your mouth as you tried to stop yourself from squealing.
“what are you reading?” by this point, he knew how pathetic he sounds. akaashi was too caught up with his thoughts before that he later on realized that you were his greatest distraction from his self-loathing thoughts.
your voice filled up his ears, going straight to his mind and letting him feel the serotonin that you radiated as you ranted about your favorite series.
but now, it looked as if he was begging for your attention. you looked indifferent to akaashi’s attempt at a conversation, it was petty and you knew that.
“nothing, just a work my friend sent to me.” you said, trying to focus on the words of the selection. akaashi looked down and you thought he gave up. before you knew it, you were on his lap with his arms tight around your waist.
“akaa-”
“read to me, please?” he said, you stayed quiet. he tightened his arms around your waist, placing his forehead on your nape.
“please?” you slowly nodded your head and switched to an online book that akaashi recommended to you. you started off softly, not wanting to piss the setter off just like how you unknowingly did last time.
you finished reading a chapter before you told akaashi to let you go.
“i’m sorry, darling.” you smiled, knowing that he knew why you were quiet. he took a hold of your hand and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb in soothing circular motions.
“i was stressed and my overthinking got the better of me. i didn’t mean to tell you to shut up. quite frankly, i miss your voice. i miss how you talk my ear off with your fictional crushes even though we both know i’m better-” you smacked his arm then laughed. he gave you a smile before continuing. “and i miss how your voice occupies my mind whenever i’m in too deep. i apologize for making you insecure.”
your heart fluttered at his words, akaashi has always been quite straightforward. so, with a smile, you pecked his cheek and nuzzled closer to him.
“i’m sorry for not noticing you weren’t in the mood.” your voice was muffled by his chest, you felt him shake his head and pull you against him tighter.
“nonsense, my darling. that's still not an excuse for me to do that to you. now, how about we watch the new episode last night? i didn’t get to watch it.” akaashi knew that you were excited as you nodded and pulled away, your eyes were shining in excitement as akaashi turned his laptop on and searched for the site.
the episode started, akaashi was asking questions to which you responded with enthusiasm making akaashi smile at your mood.
this was what he almost ruined, and he couldn’t dislike himself more. but when you cuddled closer to his side and intertwined your fingers together while keeping your eyes on the series and narrating the scenes he didn’t get. he vowed to never be the reason for your eyes to lose your shine.
after the episode, the two of you cuddled and just admired each other before one of you drifted to sleep, your grip on each other still tight as you succumbed into slumber.
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tojisun · 5 months
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…yea sure why not?
-
baker!simon who’s known for the bit he’s got going on – something you wished your friends would’ve told you because the first time you walked into the niche bakery (at six am to boot) and saw simon, big and tall and inked and masked simon, you screamed bloody murder.
“jesus-!” he yelled back in surprise, almost dropping a tray of freshly baked shortbreads before whipping his head up to see what was going on only to feel like he’s been punched in the gut because there you stood by the entrance, bundled up with thick jackets like you’re preparing for winter even though fall was just settling in, your hair a haggard mess and your face gaunt from exhaustion, and looking like all parts of simon’s dream woman.
“um,” you stammered, staring at him with wide eyes and trembling hands, your heart hammering in your chest as you began to panic. “i, uh. i’m…?”
simon watched as you continued to stammer before finally taking pity on you. he placed the tray on the counter and turned to fully present himself to you, spreading his arms out in hopes that it would show you that he’s not dangerous. that you would see his flour-covered apron and see that all he’s got going on in life is baking, and then instantly be enamoured with him.
“you here for breakfast?” he asked, clearing his throat upon hearing the awkward croak of his voice. thank god for his mask because he was able to hide the flush of his cheeks, allowing him to continue to play it cool in front of you.
“yes?” you replied, still confused as to why the… baker? was wearing a homemade skull mask.
“sure,” he said and you watched as he wiped his hands on his apron. “come over here then. what’d you want to order?”
baker!simon who isn’t really a big sweets enthusiast but whose desserts are the best in the block. you asked him what made him pursue this career and you watched as he stilled, his face falling slack like he can see something you couldn’t – like he is reliving a memory – before shaking himself with a deep inhale and finally whispering, “for my brother.”
you did not probe any further, your heart heavy with guilt, but simon just turned to you with a small smile and asked, “wanna hear about ‘im?”
he gathered you in his arms as he recounted the few fond memories he has of his childhood, and you breathed him in, smelling the faint smell of macaroons and toasted butter on his skin.
baker!simon who begins dedicating his daily special treats to you. “for the apple of my eye,” when it’s apple fritters day. “for my beloved cheri,” on cherry pie day. “for my precious sugar,” on sugar cookies day.
baker!simon who proudly prances around in his frilly pink apron that has “husband material” embroidered on the chest. you gave it to him as a gag gift but simon loves it so much that he began to wear it to work, showing it off to his friends with a deep chuckle.
“my girl got it f’r me,” he says to johnny. “pretty, isn’t it?”
johnny nods amidst laughter, his body folded into himself as he clutches the counter for support.
-
fuck. baker!simon might even be better than biker!simon
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