#the way she draws me and my f/o is so

[reonanybara]

ME AND MY FRIEND DECIDED TO EXCHANGE NEW YEAR GIFTS AND IT SEEMS LIKE SHE IS GOING TO DRAW ME AND MY F/O TOGETHER YAAAAAAAY!!!!!

[vellichorsdesire]

day 48367 of blue hydrangeas domestic life au being my most favorite au everrr… we’re going shopping!!! ^_^

==

taglist: (interact with this post/let me know wherever if you’d like to be added or removed!! first time doing this thank you guys eeee 💗💗💗)

@hauntedhallwayzzz @artistlara @melomacaron @milkmallow28 @champmorado @heartofbalemoon @astral-express-family @sunflawyer

[maddymoreau]

Grant Turner and I drawn by @unusualmuffin-art

[rexscanonwife]

Waah thinking about how much Bubbles loves to draw 😭 and how I ALSO love to draw!! And how I can encourage her to pursue her passion for it and support her!! 💖🫶💖🫶💖🫶💖

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[captain-hawks]

double shift

— kento nanami x f!reader

summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?

word count: 4.2k

content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy

Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.

Today has been shit.

Capital S, Shit.

His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything  but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.

His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is. 

You’re too fucking good for him.

And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.

And seeing you pregnant?

While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts. 

And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom. 

So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.

But he’ll fucking do it.

Of course he will. 

“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

She’s finally asleep.

Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts. 

“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.

You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen. 

“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form. 

He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”

“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.

For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully. 

“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.

Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”

“I’m well aware of what he does.”

“Then why—”

“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.

And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.

You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days. 

Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt. 

“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach. 

“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s not fine. 

It’s anything but fine. 

It’s a complete fucking disaster. 

Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you. 

You’re fucking stunning. 

And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time. 

But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt. 

Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach. 

He needs to fucking leave. Now. 

“I should go—“

“—do you want some tea?”

You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off. 

He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh. 

He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer. 

His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there. 

Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”

As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly. 

“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”

Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top. 

“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is. 

“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”

Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”

“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”

He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts. 

You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”

“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”

Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch. 

But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop. 

In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?

Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.

Fucking fuck. 

What the fuck is he doing?

Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection. 

And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants. 

But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”

Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’. 

He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt. 

Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually. 

But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable. 

His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue. 

“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.  

“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest. 

“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 

And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Nothing has ever felt this good. 

Nothing. 

Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 

He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined. 

He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his. 

He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard. 

And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you. 

It’s filthy.

It’s so fucking filthy. 

And maybe it’s wrong. 

But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires. 

It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it. 

“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours. 

“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits. 

You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”

He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”

A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”

“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside. 

“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit. 

He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”

“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand. 

Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin. 

You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole. 

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while. 

“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you. 

“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind. 

It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt. 

Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”

Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels. 

“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”

Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt. 

“Is that too tight?”

You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”

He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.  

You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you. 

“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips. 

“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts. 

A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”

If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger. 

“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”

You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls. 

The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone. 

Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”

Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”

“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”

He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him. 

And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him. 

Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless. 

You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.

“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[itsagoodluckkiss]

Hi, I wanted to make a request about Luffy x female reader. The reader is feminine but clumsy, emotionally-reserved, unexperienced and kind-hearted. Smart and funny, with a soft spot for Luffy. . As for the plot, "she fell first, but he fell harder", slice of life with a little angst would be perfect. I'm desperate for fanfiction about first experience in everything kinda stuff. I'm not a minor, so it would be very good to see some sensual and awkward smut. I would be glad to read anything you'll write about Luffy x female!reader and I hope that you liked my request (^o^)/ sorry for bad english

It's Okay ~ Luffy x F!Reader

First of all, thank you for being my first request, you made me really happy and I'm really sorry for the really long wait, we had a really rough couple of months. Also, it's the first smut I've ever written so read this with patience. English is not my first language either and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, I had fun writing this, I hope you'll like it, lots of love!

Words: +3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, op spoilers, ptsd, mentions of character death, comfort sex, smut with plot, oral (f!receiving), virginity loss (both), unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluffy ending kinda?, no use of Y/N

MDNI

Quiet days on The Thousand Sunny were as rare as mythical zoans. Not only because of dangerous encounters but also because of how calm the whole crew was today. Even your walking ray of sunshine captain was not as wild as usual. But you couldn’t really complain as you could focus on your task in silence.

The tailor of the crew, responsible of sewing, stitching and mending every piece of fabric on the ship. And that included the sails. Strong winds the night before managed a large tear and the next island was a couple of days away. So you had a job to do. Standing on a rope ladder, you effortlessly worked through the sails with elegance. Every piece of fabric in your home deserved care, as you’d always say when you mended the torn up clothes of your crew mates.

You were proud you could provide your family with loved and cared clothes and everything else they needed, top priority along with the dream of becoming the best tailor the seas had ever seen. Your mind wandered away to the smile of your captain every time you placed the fixed straw hat you came to love so much on his head, while you automatically repaired the sail. But your gracefulness started and ended at the needle in your hand.

Looking away into the sea for one second resulted in you prickling your finger. The sudden feeling caused you to lose your step and balance and you yelped as you fell from the ladder, expecting a hard fall and a trip to Chopper’s infirmary. But the land never came, arms wrapping around your frame, drawing you to somebody’s embrace. In fear, you wrapped yourself around your savior’s waist like a koala, your flower patterned dress coming up slightly. Your face went to the crook of his neck for one second, immediately recognizing who it was, and you raised your head to look at him in embarrassment.

“Hi there!”

“Luffy, thank you, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. Was on my way to check if you needed help. Guess I was right.” he said laughing.

You smiled and hugged him tightly as he put you down on the deck. You were embarrassed, part of it because of your own clumsiness, another part because of the way Luffy’s hands lingered on your waist before letting you go.

“Are you almost done? Picked up a new card game from the last island and I want to play with you.”

“Oh, ah, I, I still have some, some work to do...?”

You didn’t. You also didn’t know why you said that. You said a lot of stupid stuff lately. You loved spending time with your captain, especially when you knew there wouldn’t be a crazy fight following you in a few hours. Falling in love with his brown eyes, his goofy and brave personality and his loyalty to his friends was the reason you said yes to joining the Straw Hats after you helped them save Robin in Ennies Lobby.

But ever since you returned to Sabaody, it’s gotten harder to contain the feelings for your first love. The other night while you two were keeping watch and talking about things you loved, an “I love you” escaped your lips without thinking, proceeding to an inept attempt to cover it by saying how you loved he is such a loyal friend. You felt the blush rushing to your cheeks as you looked again on his face and noticed something you were seeing more and more these days. His trademark smile was reduced to a small upward line and in his eyes there was a gleam of sadness. You couldn’t have that.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you around later I guess-”

“On another note, I can always finish it later. Let’s go play, Captain!”

And you grabbed his arm, running like a child playing chase across the deck toward Nami’s tangerine trees, laughing as you tripped on your two left feet, Luffy holding you upwards and laughing in the process, always there to catch you.

~

The ship was in motion, light rain falling from the night sky as Luffy found himself walking aimlessly on the empty deck. His black hair tousled, his straw hat dangling from the string around his neck, his posture slumped, trying to find some sort of relief in the breeze that hit his face. His trembling hands grip the railing, his gaze lost towards the vast ocean, unable to back focus on anything but his most recent nightmare. Memories of Ace's death spreading, like poison in his veins, once again. He tried to steady his breathing but failed as hot tears run down his cheeks, silent sobs leaving his body, trying not to wake up his crew. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Marineford. There was no reason for his friends to see him in that weakened state. He could tell that everyone felt guilty because they weren’t there for him, he didn’t want to feed that ugly feeling inside them.

You felt restless, worry prickling your skin like a hundred needles at once. Sleep wouldn’t do you a favor so you hoped off bed to get some fresh air on the deck and some moments of peace to think. Luffy’s sad eyes lingered in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but think about how much he had changed since you first met. You remembered the scrawny, eager, brave boy he was. Now his hair was longer and spikier, and he looked stronger than ever before, he was almost a man. Despite his carefree looks, a lot had changed about him. Yes, he was still as eager and resilient and determinated as ever, yet more mature, as much as maturity applied to him. And that big scar across his chest was the only testament of the fight he gave alone two years ago, as he hadn't talked to any of you about it. Not that he had to. You all knew you would wholeheartedly give him the support in any form he’d need. You’d do what you knew best. Take care of the people you loved. And from the moment you joined the crew, you knew your heart belonged to the straw hat captain.

You spotted Luffy in the front of the ship. It was unusual for him to be up and alone this late at night. Your eyes filled with concern, you walked closer to him as you noticed the trembling in his form, worry rising in your chest. Your hand caressing his shoulder slightly, you didn’t want to scare him or make him feel worse.

"Luffy?" you asked softly, voice barely audible over the wind.

Luffy wiped his tear streaked face quickly and tried to control his heavy breathing, wanting to be like his usual self, even if he knew it was too late for acting.

“I…”

He took a deep breath trying to hold it all in. He was the one that was supposed to help people through their crying and problems, to protect them. He couldn’t protect his friends in Sabaody, he couldn’t save his brother. He swore he’d never let anything like those things happen again. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. Not again. Not in front of his crew. Not in front of you.

“It’s okay, Luffy.”

His eyes met yours, a warm and safe gaze, always inviting and full of love, ready to be a place of comfort and joy to anyone that needed it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and back, taking him in a comforting embrace. His arms went immediately around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as silent sobs left him once again. He hugged you tightly, hyperventilating as he let every last feeling of grief and pain out. You felt your eyes well too, the pain your favorite person carried alone enough to make you want to scream.

“It’s okay… you’re okay… it wasn’t your fault…”

“I couldn’t… I thought you… were all dead… and… I was right there… I couldn’t save him… he left… in my arms… it should have been me!”

Your heart ached listening to Luffy's sobs, tears running down your face as well. You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, and looked into his red, puffy eyes.

“Listen to me! Don’t say that again, ever! We all know you’d never let us down. You did everything you could, Luffy, you always do, and it’s enough for us." You said, voice shaking, carrying all the sincerity in the world. "And you always were there for him. You gave everything you had! He loved you so much and you saved him because you showed him how loved and cherished he was! You're still doing everything you can to keep his memory alive. That's what he would want! Don’t do this to yourself, please.”

You wiped the tears off his face and squeezed his cheeks like you usually did when you shared food and laughs together, managing to drag out a small smile from the boy.

“How about we go grab some tea and biscuits from the kitchen before Sanji comes down from his watch and go to my room?” you suggested, knowing Luffy would never say no to food.

“It’s on!”

Stealth wasn’t your strongest suit as you somehow always managed to hit on something. And with Luffy beside you, havoc was almost always certain. Getting out of the kitchen as fast as you could, before Sanji’s yells could reach you, you run into the ship, down to your handicraft’s room. The warmth of the cabin enveloped Luffy, feeling a little more like his usual self now, as he took in the room. That’s were all your great works laid, with needles, threads and sewing machines all over the place. From clothes and blankets to large embroideries hanging from the walls. You laid a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground to sit on. You sipped your scolding tea as Luffy munched on a cookie, taking in your works.

“I don’t know how you can make beautiful things like these.”

“I’ve practiced it a lot. And I love it. I’m glad you like it, Captain.”

You smiled widely, gaining a toothy grin from him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always being here.”

You were thinking your next words for a moment before moving the cups and plate from the blanket, taking his shoulders gently as you both laid on the ground, your eyes looking at each other, taking his hand into yours.

“It's alright to not be fine, you know… I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“It’s… I’m not thinking about it most of the time… I just have nightmares… it’s hard sometimes.”

“And that’s completely logical, Luffy, you’ve been through hell! I collapsed when I heard the news and couldn’t be with you. I would have run to you if I could. I love you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there and…”

You were the one tearing up now, cheeks red from embarrassment as the words slipped through your mouth without thinking. You knew Luffy would be shattered when you heard about Ace. The only thing you wanted was to hug him until you pulled all his pieces back together. He met your gaze. Luffy was never interested in romance. He didn’t thought he needed it. Until he met you and for the first time, he wanted someone to join his crew not only because he wanted them as a friend and they’d be a great addition, but because he felt something different, something he couldn’t quite understand. The only thing he knew was that he loved you a little differently than the rest of his friends. It was his turn to brush the tears off your face now and you melted from his touch. You tried to speak but before you could, his hand, warm and slightly trembling, cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours, just for a moment, before drawing back only inches from your face.

“I think I love you too.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against your ribs. Never had you thought you’d hear those words from Luffy. Of course, you knew he loved everyone in the crew, but this felt different. You felt like you would burst into flames as you blushed even more.

“You, you do?!”

“Yeah… you’re sweet and strong… always by my side… you’re very important to me…”

You let out a gasp of surprise as you hugged him tightly and crushed your lips into his clumsily, both of you laughing at your enthusiasm. Small, sweet kisses evolved into longer, more passionately ones and soon you were underneath him, his hands caressing your thigh beneath your dress, your hands slowly pushing his vest off of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, you?”

“Me too.”

Soon, your clothes landed somewhere else in the room as you felt him caressing your skin everywhere and you gasped into the kiss, him taking advantage of your parted lips to push his tongue into your mouth, tangling it messily with yours. His lips travelled down your neck and lower, soon to be between your legs. A feeling of self-consciousness crept over you as you closed your legs and he smiled up at you as he caressed your thigh.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can stop if you want.”

“No, I want this, I’ve just… never do this before…”

“Neither do I. We’ll find it together. But I want you to be comfortable. You can stop me if you don’t feel okay.”

You smile down at him and relaxed a bit, allowing him to spread your legs and start kissing the inside of your thighs. It felt so good to share another experience with him, and his touch was gentler than you thought it would be. He positioned your thighs on his shoulders and before you could react, his mouth was on you, his tongue licking a stripe before latching onto your clit. Your head fell back immediately as a choked out moan slipped through your mouth, one hand flying to his hair, pulling on his locks gently as the other grasped the blanket beneath you. His eyes were on you, his look was magnetic and focused on the task of making you feel good. A finger circling your tight hole, it pushed inside you slowly as he sucked on your clit, making you whimper from the pleasurable feeling. The stretching inside you new and welcomed, a combination of his mouth and a second finger breaching in has your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting repeatedly a spot you had never reached before on your own and it pushed you over the edge unexpectedly. He smiles against you as small moans left your mouth, your whole body shaking, your head spinning.

Coming down from your high, he crawls back on top of you and kisses you passionately, your tongues intertwining. You can taste yourself through the kiss, and it makes you long for more. He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“How was that?”

“Luffy, it was… amazing. How did you know-”

“Didn’t. Just did what felt right. Are you okay to continue?”

You nodded eagerly and he grinned at you, his lips back on yours again. Your hand sneaks between your bodies to grab his dick, gently pumping him up and down, bringing him close to your folds. He moans into the kiss and swats your hand away, gliding himself between your now soaked pussy, his tip touching your clit every time, sending small jolts of pleasure down your spine. He breaks the kiss, his face only inches apart from yours, staring into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”, he whispered.

“Yes captain, please…”

A shiver run through his body as he hears your plead, and he moves his tip against your entrance, pushing in. A small gasp escape you and a sharp hiss leaves his mouth as he slowly slides into you, his movements awkward but gentle, the feeling of your warmth around him making him slightly tremble as he bottoms out. It felt slightly uncomfortable for you at first but the pain you expected to feel was nowhere to be found. His lips were on your neck, nibbling and sucking gently while his arms roamed your body, trying to make you relax as he stayed still, waiting for you to adjust to him. A few moments passed and your hand cupped his chin, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

“Feels better now?”

“Yes, Luffy… please, move…”

He smiled down at you and placed another soft kiss on your lips as he began to move, taking it slow and tender, setting a rhythm that made you gasp, the pleasure spreading over you. One of his hands on yours, intertwining your fingers as the other grabbed your thigh to keep you against him, his forehead on yours, eyes closed as you both relished the feeling of your bodies pressed together. His speed picked up slightly as he finds a steady rhythm and you moan his name, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He smiles widely and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers running through his hair, gently tugging at his dark locks.

One hand gripped your thigh rougher now, pushing it upwards, the shift in position allowing him to go deeper, the other sneaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. Your face buries in the crook of his neck, trying to choke down your moans, the knot in your stomach tightening as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier, you feel that he’s close too.

Your lips connect again in a messy kiss and your back arches as you come undone, crying out through the kiss, your nails dragging down his back. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, his hands grab your hips to drag you to him as he fucks you through your high, his hips stuttering, feeling your walls squeezing him tight, pushing him over the edge with you.

You stay like this for a while, hands wrapped around each other, his face buried in the crook of your neck, savoring the moment. He places a tender kiss on your cheek and turns to face you, his head on your shoulder.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… wonderful…” you say with a sigh as you smile up at him. His hand caressing you cheek, he placed another sweet kiss before stretching his hand to grab another blanket nearby, covering the both of you. He then lies flat on top of you again, his arms wrapping around you, and closes his eyes, still inside you.

“Luff, we…”

“Can’t move, I feel snuggly right now.”

You laugh softly as you hug him back, feeling his breath slow down as he slowly falls asleep, your eyelids getting heavy as well, a content smile playing on your lips.

“Goodnight dummy…”

[veronicawildest]

NAKSHATRA SERIES: OBSERVATION FROM DIFFERENT NAKSHATRAS (TERCERO)

If you're offended just block me. If you get it, you get it, if you don't, fuck off

PURVA PHALGUNI:

When you're in a Laziest competition and the opponent is Purva phalguni native: ☹️🙁🫤😰😰😨😞

They're the 2nd place for being cheesiest interms of being relationship and inlove (I will revealed the winner of this on the next observations)

I realized just I've been googling Sydney Sweeney that her fiance is 13 years much older than her. The Purva phalguni sun celebrities too as well:

Blake Lively (Purva phalguni moon) and Ryan Reynolds

Beyonce (Purva phalguni sun) and Jay Z

Mena Suvari ( Purva phalguni moon) married Richard Brinkmann on March 4, 2000, when she was 21 and he was 37

It's really a pattern and the Opposite sign of leo is aquarius which is saturn.

Purva phalguni love cars. Aside from Elon Musk, Sydney Sweeney has a tiktok account about repairing cars. She has Purva phalguni sun conjunct rahu (intensifying the energy of Purva phalguni)

The physiognomy of this nakshatra is that they have THICK and unruly eyebrows. (Brooke Shields, Taylor Hill) even that i known in my life has this trait

Certain Purva phalguni celebs talks about anxiety and stressed a lot. The lead singer of Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph is a Purva phalguni moon and you can observe that his songs has a lot of topic about this certain extent. Doubt and Stressed are some of this.

They really love music and arts. Claire nakti specifically talk about performing arts but all kinds of arts related to pleasure. They really love it.

Don't let the laziness of this nakshatra fool you. If they have a goal they'll be great at focusing and getting the goal (Just give them a reason to give a F*** to get it but if they really don't care, they be lazy ass about it)

UTTARA PHALGUNI:

Connections are important to them (even if it's shallow at some extend you will observe them social climbing up way to the top)

Friends before hoes nakshatra (The girls of this nakshatra are more hoes into friends they love their partner more than friends tho)

The older partner one that i observe over purva phalguni girls earlier extend to this nakshatra. but for girls too.

Much funnier than you would expect and also not afraid to speak their minds even if someone is gonna get hurt by them. My classmate has this. If she is a celebrity, one second = cancelled!

Now that I've mention that Nicki Minaj has this moon. No wonder why, Some would say her unhinged opinions on certain things is her manifestation at Jyestha, but i would disagree.

(Some unevolved) girls of this nakshatra are not so much girls girl. They don't claim to be one which is fine but you don't need to bring down others. (They doing it for their friends because of connections y'know shittalking)

The abbreviation of I of Uttara phalguni is INDEPENDENT

HASTA:

I underestimated how this nakshatra gets a lot of hate (some of them are understandable tho)

They're great friends tho. they're are f yapper (if they're comfortable at you)

I always observe them. They're like a sexy librarian (common sidereal virgos that i known have a glasses)

If you want a manipulation teacher who can teach you all kinds of manipulation techniques (I'm talking about drawing, forgery and tarots manipulation involving hands) Go to HASTA!!!!!

They're great mimicker and impersonator (not all are accurate but most of them are funny)

Witty nakshatra (they known how to banter)

Females with this nakshatra have MANY male friends.

They're fvcking horny. Don't let the hasta = nun, virgin fool you bruh

Chitra:

Major trolls!! What i mean to be troll is They like to play dumb even if they are not dumb (Extends to Mrigashira and Dhanistha) They're not DUMB.

They have a manipulation for cameras, If hasta excel at being at work or manipulation of paper involving hands, Chitra would excel at editing, photos and also jewels.

Catriona Gray (Miss Universe 2018) has Chitra moon. As you would see, she looks like Olivia Rodrigo (Chitra moon). Her iconic answer in M.U is Silver Lining and correlation of this nakshatra to jewels.

Most of the gay people that i known have this nakshatra

Kylie Jenner has Mars in Chitra conjunct her moon. That's why the influence of the body is very mars like nakshatra (Her sisters that have some Mars nakshatra/Sidereal mars sign have curvy BBL vibes are Kim Kardashian (Chitra sun) Khloe Kardashian (Dhanistha moon) and Kourtney Kardashian (Ashwini Sun))

SWATI

Others expect that Swati would be the Sweet side of the Libra compare to the other two (Libra side of Chitra and Vishakha), They're fvcking BLUNT!!!! They're also proud to be "Scorpios" just like Vishakha.

Common placement to have on Celebrities. Especially on states. The Celebrities we have on my home country is dominated by Mars nakshatra

In the past, I have a crush on this swati guy. First impression to him that he wasn't real (my mind is foggy remembering him, he's the first one I met to be that unique) even tho I spoke and everyday we talk on school (i didn't know vedic astrology when i met him) wasn't aware that i've been channeling this nakshatra and picking up the vibes of him. ( He loves to joke as well)

My interpretation and explanation of why Libra ( extends to Vishakha) are debilitated on this sign is the misguided aggression of this nakshatra. Some would argue that Magha and Purva phalguni have this too (Magha being cocky about it) but Libra are passive aggressive for some reason. They dont know how to properly assert themselves.

Swati are Physically attractive (you're lying if you found one ugly, or just a hater)

VISHAKHA:

I read on tumblr once, I forgot what her tumblr astrology name was but she mention that Vishakha and Cowboy correlation and I agree to this. Beyonce recently made this. In the past Miley Cyrus has Vishkaha moon and she made Jolene cover. Also, Owen Wilson famously play cowboys in his film.

I just don't know how to word this properly but Vishakha looks good (like goody two shoes good noy reffering to good looking) even if they're not (bad attitude).

If were talking about attractiveness of this nakshatra: i would say HOT, SEXY, SEDUCTIVE. Honestly, this nakshatra extends to femme fatale in my opinion.

They're fucking two face ( I know this is the symbol of Purva bhadraphada but Vishakha? Backstabbing if you're UNEVOLVED)

They great at fashion tho. If you want advice just go to Viskaha interms of beauty and fashion. They're great (among all nakshatra i considered them to be great at transforming other people, Claire nakti said this nakshatra was great for makeover so)

[san8ny]

Clerks ‘n Cunts

an: what if the guns n roses band name was uhh freaky and involved vaginas and gas station workers, how scary would that be.. / a draft i scrapped

Ellie Williams.

This was a bad idea.

Lewdly agreeing to hook up with the gas station clerk because you couldn’t pay for gas— genuine hoe shit.

You scruff out a few profanities as you climb over the counter, the lanky woman eyeing your short-shorts as you do so, smiling like this was the highlight of her shitty job

“Don’t give me that look, i’m not the one with an empty tank.” She snickers, calloused hand already finding itself sliding into your tresses as you kneel, “Now, be a good girl and open wide, yeah? I’ve had a rough da—aay..” Her words trail off, head tilted back in a breathy gasp when your wet tongue meets contact with her plushy lips, swollen clit hidden underneath like it’s asking you to come find it.

That’s one way to shut her up

You could tell with the mouth on her, she got no play. Just all bark, and no bite in return

“O-oh, ah! ah! ah..shiiiit..” Ellie whines as she rocks her groin onto your lips, her body at one point slumping forward, planting her hands flat on the counter as you suck, no—eat her soul out. How did this feel so good?

You didn’t let up on your assult either, wanting to make every second of this moment good for you.

To further the humiliation she’d unknowingly inflicted herself upon, the front door swings open, a customer.

A scruffy old man with a beer belly walks in, grease stains on his wifebeater as he throws a wad of cash onto the counter, “Pump 7, toots.”

Ellie’s eyes scrunch together as she tries to verbalize a quick-witted insult, instead, a meek moan quivering out when you begin tongue-fucking her, nose prodding up at her clit as you take more of her pussy into your inviting mouth,

The man looks confused, not understanding just what was happening due to the front counter’s concealment of where you kneeled

“A-allergies.” She mutters, taking the cash and pathetically counting it. Her legs were threatening to give out at this point from how much cum and spit were running down her inner-thighs. She wonders if he could hear your slurps?

Viscerally fed-up with her snail-like speed, he makes his way to the door and just leaves without the change.

Maybe she’d employ that method from now on?

“F-fuck, baby, i’m gonna cum..” She noises, looking down at you, beautiful face all wet and your cheeks hollowed out each time you apply suction to Ellie’s pearl, “Ahh..all in your mouth too? Hm? Give you a run f-oor your money?”

You nod, pulling your lips from her cunt and rubbing your pretty painted nails over the sopping mess, “Give it to me? Just really want my car to run..” You say, eyes tearing up from the pull she had on your hair, “Might let you finish on me too..”

Ellie doesn’t spare another moment, shoving you away and pulling down your top, “If i finish, I ‘wanna finish on your rack.” She heaves, slithering a hand down and beginning to draw figure 8’s on her cunt, all while you sit there with a smile on your slutty face, “U-uhnnn, so closeee.. ‘cmere doll..”

You press your soft breasts together, tilting your head up to watch the nasty scene as Ellie uses your tits to get off, perky nipples rubbing up on her slicked pussy giving just enough of a sensation she spurts cream all over them, fluids splashing on the cold marble floor and some on your face.

After a beat of silence and her slow breathing, you run a finger down your supple cheek and bring it inbetween your lips, “Pump 3, toots.”

Safe to say you left with some snacks, a filled tank and a phone number.

[maxillness]

Skin || Retired!SV5 x Driver!Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, age gap, hair pulling, oral (f&m), self inflicted orgasm denial, seb coming only once while reader twice (because he’s an old man who can only last one time), dirty talk, secret relationship (ish)

Wordcount: 1.3k

I don’t know what he’s looking at in the gif, but I wish it was me 😫🫶

She had barely walked into their hotel room before Sebastian had wrapped his arms around her, kissing her softly

“Congrats on pole” He chuckled, kissing her again, a little harder this time

His lips traveled from her mouth, over her jaw and down to her neck “Seb… I’m exhausted, and my whole body hurts. Sorry, baby” He kissed him softly when he pulled his head away from her

“Okay” He pouted a little, but he understood “I know. I understand” He kissed the top of her head, walking back over to the couch

She might’ve been good in quali and gotten pole, but god was it an awful race. She started at p1, but ended in the bottom 5

She walked Into the hotel room, softly closing the door, almost silently

Sebastian only noticed her when she got in his lap as he sat watching tv

“Hey-“ He couldn’t get to say any words as she connected their lips making him grab her waist softly

“You saw it?” She asked, lips trailing down his neck and throat

“Of course I did. ‘M sorry, schatzi” He whimpered when she started leaving marks behind

“Turn the tv down” She started licking over the bruises, soothing the stinging sensation

“Baby… You’re exhausted, you need to rest. We can-“ He stopped when she pulled back. She looked directly into his eyes for a second before she stood up

“Baby-“ He turned off the tv, walking after her into the bedroom

She stood with her back facing him, fiddling with her hands “Baby, I’m sorry” His arms snaked around her body, his breath now down her neck

She got out of his arms and walked over to the bed, sitting down softly on it, spreading her legs slightly

“Don’t do that…” His words trailed out, his breath getting caught in his throat at the sight of her “You know what it does to me”

She spread her legs wider “Why are you standing over there with your clothes on?” She looked over at him and bit her bottom lip softly

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna meet you halfway. I know how bad you wanna see me” She said, eyes drifting to the slight boner in his sweats

“Du bist unerträglich“ You’re insufferable. He chuckled

“I know I am. Get over here” She curled her finger in the air, motioning for him to walk closer

He did, taking his shirt off on the way, standing in between her legs as she took off her own, throwing it on the floor

His hands landed on her shoulders as her fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweats

She looked up at him, making eye contact through hooded eyes as she pulled them down as well as his boxers

She let the fabrics pool at his ankles as his cock was freed, hitting his abdomen softly

She held onto his waist as she placed small kitten licks on the tip, making him groan

She started swirling her tongue around it, drawing whimpers from him “Stop teasing” He said, tugging at her hair softly as a warning

She immediately hollowed her cheeks, taking all she could into her mouth. She looked up at him as she started bobbing her head

“Fuck. Taking me so well” He said as she sped up, making him groan

Her hands traveled from his waist and down to the back of his thighs, sinking her nails into his skin

“Can I fuck your mouth?” He asked, feeling the need to buck his hips into her mouth

“Mhm” She mumbled. He didn’t need any other form for agreement before he was fucking her throat

“Fuck, yes. Taking me so well. Letting me fuck your throat” He hit the back of her mouth with every single thrust, making her gag and tears swell in her eyes

“Always making me feel so good” He groaned and tugged at her hair harder when he started twitching in her mouth

She smirked as she felt him twitching, knowing he was close, and also knowing he could only last one time, he’d have to deny his own orgasm

“Fucking hell, your mouth feels so good. Just like always” He chuckled, but it was soon replaced with a groan as he felt his orgasm approaching

“You do wonders to me, woman” He said, pulling her off of him “But that’s nothing new” His breathing was heavy and quick as he worked on getting her pants off as she was laid sprawled out on the bed

“Fucking schön” He said as he kissed the inside of her thighs, sending shivers up her spine

He eventually worked his lips up to her cunt and had his tongue flick her clit, making her moan loud

“Fuck, yes. Just like that, baby” Her hand came to tangle in his curls, tugging them slightly, making him groan, sending vibrations all through her body

He entered her with two fingers, making her whimper slightly. She moaned even louder when he started curling his fingers

“Fuck, baby. Please. I’m so close” Her thighs were starting to shake, almost suffocating him “God. Fuck, baby. Feels so good”

With one last curls of his fingers, she came around them, almost screaming his name

“You’re so pretty when you come” He said, kissing her inner thighs, soothing her down from her orgasm

“Get up here. I want you inside me” He got up to her, hovering over her, placing her leg around his waist, lining himself up with her entrance

She whimpered as she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm, but it was soon replaced with the feeling his cock buried inside her

“Fuck, you feel so good around me. Lass mich dich so gut füllen” Letting me fill you up. He said as he started moving, drawing up moans from her

“Fuck, please. I need you to talk to me, please. Anything. Just say anything” She caught his lips as his hips sped up

“German?” He asked, loving the way she nodded rapidly “Verdammt versaute Hure“ Fucking kinky whore. His lips fell to her neck, sucking softly

“Möchte nach einem schlechten Rennen gefickt werden“ Wanting to get fucked after a bad race. The sound of his voice and her drawn out moans was the only sounds filling the room, as well as the skin-against-skin contact

“Ich wette, du hast deinen Freuden noch nicht einmal erzählt, dass du einen Freund hast, hm?” I bet you haven’t even told your mates you have a boyfriend, hm?. His voice was like music to her ears as she approached her second orgasm

“Ganz zu schweigen von jemandem, mit dem die meisten von ihnen vor zwei Jahren Rennen gefahren sind“ Not to mention someone most of them races with two years ago. He groaned, feeling him start to twitch inside her again

“Oder jemand, der mehr als zehn Jahre älter ist als Sie“ Or someone who’s more than ten years older than you. Her body was starting to shake again

“Fuck, I’m so close, please. Just one more” He chuckled at her words

“Verdammte Hure. Du willst einfach nur Sex, haben, nachdem du deine Fans enttäuscht hast“ Fucking whore. You just want to have sex after disappointing your fans. That sent her over the edge, coming around his cock

The feeling of her rapid clenching around him drew him to his orgasm, holding himself still as he came inside her

“You’re so fucking beautiful” Be said, laying down beside her, holding her tightly into his body “You’ll be better next race” He kissed the top of her head as she hummed a low yes

[forusomimiya]

𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣’𝕤 𝕒 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕕

⚜️𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘮𝘴𝘣𝘺4!𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 𝘹 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

⚜️𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

⚜️𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,4𝘬

⚜️𝘤𝘸: 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢. (¡𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘖𝘙𝘚 𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘐𝘛!)

You don't remember how you ended up here, or maybe you do, but you don't remember what led you to make this decision, what went through your wonderful head making you think this would be a good idea.

Because it wasn't just good, it was the best.

A couple of drinks after your first face-to-face game with the team, glances and approaches, brought you, the rookie manager of the black jackals and the four worst men you could have ever met, to spend "a little good time" at your hotel.

It wasn't the first time they got together and talked about how you flirted with each of them or how you enticed them to have a quick, sneaky encounter in the locker room. What they didn't know is that while they were getting hard talking about you, you were in your room cumming on your fingers more than three times in a row, imagining an orgy with them.

And there you were, rejoicing and getting what you had wanted to happen for months.

"Little whore in heat... if you're going to keep looking at me like that while 'm fucking that mouth, I swear I'm going to make a mess on yar pretty face. And I don't think Sakusa likes it when someone messes up what's his, do you Omi-kun?" Atsumu's words are choppy with each thrust and with each touch of his tip at the end of your throat. His muscles begin to weaken but for his life, he will not stop until he has accomplished his goal.

"Just shut your fucking mouth and keep going, Miya. It keeps getting tighter every time you go in deeper."

"Ignore him Atsumu. Down here I can see how he enjoys every praise you give her" you only have a second to switch from focusing on Atsumu's cock to Hinata's and Sakusa's, both alternating to hit your fragile spot and making you moan long and hard as you gargle with Atsumu's cock.

"Holy fuck, so pretty like that… drooling all over my cock…” you moan in pain as you open your mouth wider. Your jaw will remind you tomorrow. "Awww… it hurts… Easy doll, I'll cum in no time and your mouth can rest. But first let me torture ya some more." His hips slam faster into your mouth, causing you to gag and your throat to itch, before you start to tear up.

"Hah, she's already in tears. Poor baby… maybe three cocks aren't enough for her. Maybe ya should slow down your movements, Atsumu…. What do you think? I'd like to have her mouth intact for a while from now" deaf ears to the words of Bokuto, who stands to the side squeezing the base of his cock and stroking the tip, mesmerised by the movement of your tits bouncing back and forth. Atsumu's hands on the back of your neck force you deeper into him, and even though it's your first time sucking him, you know what it means, so you look up and confirm your intuition when you see his eyebrows draw together and his mouth form an "O".

"Ahh keep crying… keep crying for my cock… nngh f-fuck! Keep it up, keep it up!" Quickly the thick, warm liquid runs down your throat and you can only continue to watch him, biting his lip as he is consumed by pleasure and continues to spill now onto your tongue. You swallow, frowning at the bitter taste. It's not pleasant, but fuck, you're a slut at sex, and you like to show it off.

"Damn… you swallowed it?" You nod and lick the remainder left on your lips, sobbing and whimpering because even though your mouth is now empty, your pussy is still filled by two cocks. "Good girl" you smile as he strokes your head, enticing you to close your eyes and appreciate his sweet touch. Atsumu could change his ways with you whenever he wanted.

You were fascinated by the way he was sometimes gentle with you in training, giving you his attention and care. Giving you advice on how to improve or cheering you up when you were down. Other times, he would catch you off guard from behind when no one was watching and he would fawn in your ear about what a good girl you were when you offered him water or towels to wipe off your sweat. He always said he'd thank you later, but it never happened. Until now.

Men who have you dripping, panting and cursing bring you back to enjoy them.

"M-more please… want more, so good…" Sakusa squeezes your hips and increases the strokes, obeying your pleas, grunting with each time you clench around him.

"Fuck… gonna fill this fucking pussy to the last drop. You're taking me so well that i think i wanna do it again…" but you can't take any more. The support of your arms on the bed trembles with each thrust, and the speed and joy of feeling the friction of both cocks in you doesn't help. "Just a little more kitten, just a little more…". You moan louder and louder and beg to go faster, though Hinata, slowly torturing you and dismissing that option, continues to enjoy every inch of your pussy opening up for him, willing to spend the time needed.

"P-please… faster… more - faster."

"Sshh be good for us baby, just have fun and keep squeezing for us, yeah? We promise to fill you up real soon kitty, just a - little bit - more."

You nod unconsciously. You can't stop thinking about how badly you want to cum all over them. And fuck, Bokuto hasn't even touched you yet, and you crave it, you need him to humiliate you and reward you for how well you're behaving. There's still time to enjoy him.

"I can't take it anymore… need her now." Bokuto steps in front of you and from his position you can see what he wants to do, so you stick out your tongue and wait.

"Hah, did you see that? She's as desperate as we thought. Didn't you get enough of mine that now you want Bokkun's?" you look sideways at the blond, who chuckles and grabs you by the chin, moving you in his direction and ordering you. "Now, open up."

The next thing that happens, comes very quickly.

You don't lose eye contact with Atsumu as he drops a trickle of saliva into your mouth. Bokuto, too aroused by the scene with the blond, and by the two partners warning that they are close to cumming, points in the direction of your tits and without control over himself, regretting it, is the next to do it. The warmth of the fluid and how dirty it makes you feel, makes you come and brings you closer to orgasm, with no interest in alerting the men who, by the pressure on their cocks and your uncontrolled leakage, know what is going on.

"Ahh fuck, she's cumming, she's cumming! hah- so tight…" Hinata is next to follow you, letting his cum leak out of your pussy and drip onto it, leading Sakusa to hopelessly let himself go.

"Yeahh, i love it… so wet… you're all mine, you hear me? Fucking mine" Emptying himself completely as he admires how underneath his cock white liquid is still oozing out, possibly a mixture of all three.

You take a few seconds to breathe, still on top of Hinata, who smiles at you as she lies slumped on the bed. You smile back with what little energy you have left, and thinking about it, you miss feeling full again, and underappreciated, in some ways. You think about what you're going to do, but then you remember that you've come here to play, and that you have a side to you that they haven't known yet, and you have to put it into practice.

When Sakusa and Hinata have risen from the bed, you crawl to the end of it and kneel down, staring at them one by one and waiting for them to know what you want. Bokuto seems to be the only one who notices your intentions, which leads him to smile at you for it and approach you with the same.

"Coming for more?" You nod cradling yourself against his hand as he caresses your cheek. Bokuto and the rest can't stop devouring you with their eyes. It was no wonder; a mess covered in tears and semen, with teeth marks at your neck and finger marks on your buttocks. More than one couldn't help but take a breather to get back into bed again.

"We didn't think we had such a docile manager…" Atsumu's voice, sitting behind you, prompts you to lean back against his chest, letting out small gasps, satisfied with the result. You are ready for round two.

"We'll care you for a while longer, if that's what you want."

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@planetmarz

A.N.: Okay, is this an open ending TO A SEQUEL? I don't want to deceive myself but, I would love to do a sequel. I'm not very satisfied with the result, cause I think I'm not very good narrating a situation, and I'm better at making short scenes, so… I'll have to see how much appreciation this short fic has and consider making a last and second part 🫡

[base0h]

HOW DO YOU NOT EVEN KNOW?

he said something awful, something he should’ve never said or thought about saying. but he said it, and now the damage was done. and he didn’t even know what he’d done, leaving you alone to reflect on the damage (feat. inarizaki! thank you for requesting this anon :)) kori, your best friend was always a mediator, but even this time she knew that you were the victim, and he was the bad guy (I get confused whenever I start using too many y/f/n and stuff like that so I just stuck my oc in here instead ✌️)

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o reader, angst, this does not have a happy ending with comfort sorry, your dialogue is in white, kori’s dialogue is in purple, kori is an oc not a canon character (click here for more info abt her)

You knew Atsumu was popular, that wasn’t a surprise. He was good looking, a talented volleyball player, and he was charismatic. What was there not to like about him?

But still. Why did it still hurt and make you agitated whenever other students would fawn over him? You knew it was bound to happen, hell— you fawn over him too as your boyfriend.

If you had to hear one more deafening squeal of his name, you’d probably lose your mind.

“Miya-kun!!”

“Miya-senpai!”

The worst part was that he always stopped and made time for them. Even when he was with you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, it hurt everytime you saw him smiling at the fans and giving them his time and attention when he probably should be giving it to you, his actual s/o.

You voiced your worries and concerns to your friend who always listened and lended her ears to you.

“I probably shouldn’t be feeling like this.. I mean he loves me right? Not the fans.” You said softly, but your tone was uncertain, you honestly weren’t sure what you were saying was true or not, and that scared you even more.

“No I think it’s pretty valid to feel like that. It ain’t fair for him to do that in front of you especially if you’re on an actual date. He should be paying attention to you, not some random fangirls or fanboys.” Kori replied, scribbling away on her tablet as she sketched and drew as she was listening and talking. Kori always drew when listening, she had a way with multitasking.

You found it funny that Kori offered such sage wisdom and support despite the girl never having been in a relationship nor having a crush on anyone. “Kori how do you always know about relationship stuff when you’ve never even been in one before?”

Kori looked up from her tablet with a slightly hurt expression. “I really didn’t need that stray comment—?”

You giggled, snickering to yourself as you reassured your friend that you were just teasing and joking around. You knew Kori was one of the sweetest human beings on earth, and you trusted her to have your back when you needed her to.

“But seriously though, you should tell him what you’re feeling. He’s so dense that I don’t think bro would know unless you tell him directly.” Kori suggested, going back to drawing. She was right, Atsumu was quite oblivious, and probably thought nothing of what he was doing since he was so used to the attention.

So you decided to gather your courage to speak to the blonde twin about your concerns. You thought that it’d go ok, maybe he’d be a bit confused, but he would comply and maybe give you a hug or a couple kisses to reassure you.

“Huh? Whaddya talkin’ about babe?”

…

What did he mean, “whaddya talkin’ about”?

You thought you worded yourself quite clearly for him to understand, you knew he wasn’t stupid or anything— at least not THAT stupid.

“So yer worried about all the other people talkin’ to me? Babe don’t worry, it ain’t like I’m kissin’ ‘em or anything.”

You felt your heart twist. Did he just— not get it? Or did he not care? Did he care about you and everyone else the same? No. That can’t be right, you were catastrophizing things.

“No that’s not— I’m just— Atsumu wait. Please listen for a second—“ you tried grabbing his arm, but he immediately pulled it away.

“I gotta go to practice y/n, ok? Can it wait till after?”

he used your name instead of a nickname.

“It’ll take like five seconds for me to explain—“

“Just leave me be y/n! Yer insecurities can’t get in the way of my practicing, nationals are coming up and you’re tellin’ me yer worried about other students talkin’ to me? Yer just as annoying and as distracting as them at this point!”

“you’re just as annoying and as distracting as them”

That sentence echoed over and over again in your mind. He didn’t really mean that right? He was just stressed because of nationals? He’d certainly apologize right?

But all you heard were his quick receding footsteps that disappeared as he walked into the gym, closing the door behind him. You were frozen there for god knows how long. It felt like a few seconds, but to bystanders and other students walking by, you looked like you’d passed out standing up.

“Uh— y/n…? You good?” A familiar voice asked, tapping your shoulder lightly. You snapped out of your daze and looked to your side where your friend Kori was, looking at you with concern and slight worry in her sleepy golden amber eyes.

You hadn’t even realized tears had pricked your eyes, which earned a silent gasp from your friend. “Whoa what happened? Did you get hurt or something??” She asked worriedly, her eyes scanning your body for any injuries. Your breath trembled as you just slumped over into Kori’s shoulder, letting out a choked sob that you didn’t know you were holding in.

Kori’s eyes were wide with concern as she hesitantly pat your back, returning the hug. She didn’t say anything or press you to explain the situation yet, she just let you cry for as long as you needed, offering tissues and water to help you calm down a bit.

After you had managed to explain what happened, Kori sighed knowingly, as if she wasn’t surprised he’d say that. “He was never the nicest dude around y/n. I’m sorry he said that to you that’s wrong.” Her tone was empathetic and gentle, and she tried her best to avoid saying anything bad about the blonde. You knew him and her weren’t on the best of terms for some reason, reasons unknown even to Kori, Atsumu just didn’t like her for some reason.

Kori did her best to try and at least distract you. You went over to her house after school and she did whatever you felt like doing. Watching TV, studying, playing games, listening to music, honestly anything she’d do to help you at least a little. You couldn’t lie it did help to distract yourself, it felt good to not think about Atsumu. It felt— freeing.

You hadn’t felt this free and light in a while. You didn’t even realize how much your worries and concerns about Atsumu’s loyalty had weighed down on you.

Ding, ding

Your phone chimed, a new text message incoming. You hoped, hoped that it would be from Atsumu. Why did you hope for that? You felt so free when you weren’t thinking about him, why did you want him to text you? Why did you still want him to be with you and spend time with you despite what he did, and how he dressed you out?

You peeked at your notifications, and sure enough, it was from him. You saw his profile picture at the beginning of the textbox, a funny weird picture which was most likely taken by Suna as he was fighting with his other half.

“Is it him?” Kori’s voice made you jump, you could never get used to how deep it was, it was kind of scary whenever she’d talk out of nowhere. You nodded, opening up your messages to see what he had said.

Tsumu: Hey where are u? Didn’t you have club today? It’s Wednesday I always meet you after school to walk you home.

Should you answer? Honestly you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to act like everything was fine. It wasn’t fine. You closed your phone, just leaving him on read as you went back to watching the TV in front of you. It was playing your favorite anime, and Kori was drawing as per usual right next to you.

“What did tweedledum say?” Kori asked curiously, her Apple Pencil scribbling and scraping against her iPad screen in a precise, sharp manner. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at Kori’s nickname for Atsumu. Kori called the twins “tweedledee and tweedledum”. You weren’t sure if she even knew their actual names still. Of course she gave Atsumu the tweedledum name because he was indeed dum(b) about 90% of the time.

“He just asked where I was. I usually stay late for club which ends at the same time as his practice so we usually walked home together. But I skipped today.” You explained as Kori hummed softly in response. Kori didn’t pry or try to bring up the subject again for the rest of the time you were at her house. She thought it would be better to just— let you not think about it too much.

She offered for you to stay over for the night, but you said no to that. But Kori was worried for you, she wanted to make sure you were ok—so she said she could walk you home at least, but you shook your head, you couldn’t make her walk you home too after all she’d done for you already. So you waved goodbye to her, saying goodbye to her mom that had just pulled in from work as well with a soft smile that was half genuine, and half fake.

One half was genuinely happy after Kori helped you out, but the other half was still stuck on that dumb blonde. You’d gotten several messages from him on both Snapchat and text.

Tsumu: hello?? Don’t just leave me on read babe wth??

Tsumu: where even are you? Are you at someone’s house??

You then jumped, shit. Your Snapchat location. You almost forgot to turn it off. You quickly opened the app and turned off your location sharing before shoving your phone back into your pocket, putting on your headphones to try and focus on something different. You blasted music on your walk home, listening to anything your shuffled playlist would give you.

It was like your playlist knew. It kept playing these sad angsty songs that you liked listening to during late nights where sleep just couldn’t find you. For the second time that day, you cried, letting out choked and uneven sobs that you once again did not know you were holding onto. You didn’t even know why you were so hurt by what he said, it’s not like he broke up with you or anything. But still— why did it hurt like he just shot you four times straight through your heart and soul?

It was as if the bullets remained, not exiting your body, but lodging themselves deeper into your torn up heart, digging deeper and farther inside of you, not having any plans of leaving you.

The only thing comforting you now were the snug fit of the soft foam ears of your headphones, and your long sleeves that couldn’t reach past your wrists, staying at an uncomfortably short length that only made you feel worse. Any little thing made everything worse. Everything was just too much. Some part of you thought maybe it would’ve been better to stay at Kori’s like she’d offered before. But you were already too far away to turn back now, you’d just have to hope that the comfort of your own home would suffice.

Osamu wasn’t as popular as his twin brother Atsumu. But that didn’t mean he was unpopular. He was just overshadowed by his twin, or as he called it, his “better half”.

It was annoying how they’d all gather around his brother, he too found it kind of disturbing and weird. However of course he felt a bit envious, insecure about his own likability and looks. Did people find his brother more attractive despite them being identical twins? But why? Was it just him?

You’d been friends with the twins for a long while now, ever since middle school, even before they had their distinguishing dyed hair. You liked Osamu better the minute you met them both. Atsumu was so brazen and confident, and he wasn’t afraid to express his high standards of his fellow players, even upperclassmen.

You found it off putting how offensive the blonde could be to people. It was irritating to be around him. Osamu was different. He was pleasant to be around. He had a sense of humor, was laid back, reserved, and friendly for the most part.

He loved food, you knew that from the first time you sat with him in middle school for lunch recess. His droopy tired eyes would widen and sparkle whenever he saw food in front of him, specifically onigiri. It was cute to you, how he’d light up and become a completely different looking person at the sight of some simple, but satiating food. It was one of the many reasons why you chose him and not anyone else.

You felt so confused and baffled that Osamu didn’t see himself the same way you did. You saw someone special, he saw someone that was second best.

You tried. You really did.

Tried to make him see that he was perfect in his own way, perfect in your eyes, perfect for you.

But there was only so much you could do. Only so much you could say. He had to choose to believe your words, and do the rest on his own. It was called self confidence for a reason after all.

Your anniversary was coming up, it’d been 2 years since you two started dating officially. You took this as an opportunity to plan something special for you and your boyfriend this year. You knew he’d been stressed lately because of the upcoming tournaments, and because his twin was putting more pressure on him than ever. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d seen Atsumu chewing him out for accidentally missing a serve, a block, a receive, or a spike.

Every mistake he made, every single hesitation, his brother caught it and made sure Osamu knew exactly what he did wrong despite the poor gray haired twin already being well aware about what he’d done wrong. Having someone rub everything in his face was degrading and mentally exhausting.

Osamu was usually patient, you commended him for being as patient as he was with his brother. But it was taking a toll on his self esteem that was already fragile. Atsumu was basically hitting him in the same spot over and over again, not allowing the previous bruises heal before making a new one in the same area, eventually leaving a mark that won’t ever heal nor fully fade away.

But next week will be different. You’d make sure of it. You even enlisted the help from your friend to help you figure out some nice plans or ideas of what you could do with Osamu. However you knew at some point you’d have to overcome your beef with Atsumu for a moment, and ask him his thoughts. He was Osamu’s twin brother after all, he knew him better than anyone, maybe even better than you.

“You sure you gotta ask him?” Kori asked. Ugh, you didn’t want to of course. But yes, you’d have to put your dislike for his horrid personality aside for your boyfriend’s sake. You wanted your anniversary to be perfect after all.

“Can you come with me to ask him please?” You asked Kori, looking at her with pleading eyes, clasping your hands together. Kori looked at you, putting her pencil down as she sighed.

“Yeah no sorry you’re on your own.” Kori said with an apologetic expression. You let out a small groan, you knew Atsumu had some sort of beef with Kori, and Kori didn’t want to deal with a beef she didn’t even know was from.

“Oh come on please??”

“…Y/n you already know what will happen if I go with you.”

“Please Yoyo you’re my best friend—“ You tried using the nickname that usually got Kori’s attention, holding your friend’s hands with pleading eyes. If Kori went with you, you could make her ask instead of you, and if he got too exasperating to stand any longer, you’d have an excuse to leave.

Kori looked at you with a narrow and skeptical squint when you used that nickname on her.

“Don’t use that—“

“What, you don’t like it Yoyo-chan?”

“Bro.”

“I’ll stop if you come with me.”

“Nice try.”

You pouted and slapped her shoulder playfully with feigned anger as you crossed your arms over your chest with a sigh. But it couldn’t be helped, it wouldn’t be too horrible right?

“Huh? Yer asking me for help? That’s a new one.”

Ugh. It was horrible.

You covered your perturbed expression, but you couldn’t hide the sharp glare of your eyes as you tried to “fake it till you make it” as they say, and act cordial. But god, you wanted to tear off that smug looking grin off his face so badly. The tone he used was so condescending and belittling, it made you want to crush him with your bare hands, but you honestly couldn’t tell if that was just his normal tone of voice or if he was trying to sound like an egotistical asshole all the time.

Because if he was trying? He was doing an absolutely stupendous job.

“I just wanted to know— what are some of Osamu’s favorite things to do? I mean— I know what he likes but you’re his brother.. So I thought you’d know better than me.” You said, reluctantly swallowing a snarky insult you were about to accidentally say without thinking.

Atsumu scoffed and grinned at you, and you were expecting him to tease you which might’ve been your last straw, but surprisingly, he didn’t.

“Aw that’s sweet actually. I see why he loves ya so much.” You looked at him, expecting to maybe see some kind of smirk or malicious glint in his eyes, but no, he was genuinely saying that. You were pleasantly surprised, maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all.

You felt yourself smile at the fact that Osamu had made it clear to his brother of his love for you. If even someone as dense and emotionally oblivious as Atsumu could tell, then Osamu must’ve talked about you a lot. The thought of him talking about you so much made your heart flutter, sending a rush of joy and warmth through your veins, fueling your excitement and determination to plan the upcoming special day.

As you two talked, your excitement grew with each suggestion Atsumu made. Your smile was spread wide across your face, filled with genuine adoration and anticipation from how excited you were to surprise your beloved.

However, you failed to realize that Osamu might’ve gotten spoiled early. Spoiled about the wrong thing.

He saw you, chatting with his twin with your beautiful sweet smile that melted his heart to a puddle whenever you showed him. It absolutely destroyed him to see you blessing his brother with the sight instead of him.

Osamu knew you weren’t super close with him, but it’d always been in the back of his mind.

Is he better than me? He’s probably more fun.

Am I too boring?

Am I less good looking?

Am I always gonna be known as “Atsumu’s twin brother”?

He cursed and muttered painfully to himself as he walked off, he couldn’t watch you continue smiling and talking with his better half so cheerfully. Oh if only he had heard what you were talking about, then he would understand everything.

But he left, his fragile heart and self esteem shattered to unmendable pieces of a jigsaw that would never fit back together because of its missing piece.

He felt like a waste. He truly did.

Oh but no it was the opposite of what he thought.. You were only talking to his brother so enthusiastically because you were planning something special for him.

However, things get lost in translation. Misconceptions cause one person to become blind to the truth, quick to catastrophize, making haste to blame and lock away their feelings to try and preserve what they have left to spare. For Osamu? This was probably the worst misunderstanding, worse than any other situation you’d hear about. This was worse.

Oh this was bad. You just kept smiling and talking eagerly with his brother from a distance, that's all Osamu could see. His mind made up the subject of the conversation he thought you were having with Atsumu, his mind immediately jumping to conclusions that were incorrect. Yet there you were, blissfully unaware of the accidental turmoil you’d caused your boyfriend to suffocate in. Alone. Basking with his old friend, second place.

It was the day, finally it had arrived— your anniversary! You had so many things rushing through your buzzing mind, your heart racing with the good kind of anxiety and anticipation of the day ahead. You absolutely couldn’t wait to see Osamu, you could barely contain yourself from excitement.

You found this restaurant with Kori by researching online. It was a place that specialized in making onigiri, which was an establishment run by an old married couple that had been working there for generations. Kori had said that usually these types of places had the best food, and she was certainly not wrong about that.

You knew it was his favorite, so you thought it would for sure make him happy if you took him there, right?

You were expecting to wake up with a message from Osamu, but weirdly, he didn’t, your notifications were as empty as you left them last night. You thought nothing of it, maybe he’d just been too busy this morning to text you, he’d probably just tell you in person.

With a slight skip in your step, you walked up the stairs of Inarizaki, the familiar chatter and buzzing of fellow students’ varying footsteps echoing throughout the long hallways filled with people. Your gaze searched each head, each person’s hair color registering in your mind as you scanned the area. You were searching for one with a certain shade of gray…

There he was, the one with gray hair by the lockers!

You had to push your way through some students who didn’t seem to understand that perhaps having a conversation in the middle of the hallway was inconvenient for everyone around them. But that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was getting to your boyfriend.

“Samu! I found this super cute place that’s run by this family and they specialize in onigiri— I wanna take you there after school today ok?” Your vice was so chipper and enthusiastic, filled with adoration and love as he shut his locker door slightly harsher than normal. His gaze looked over to you, and you were immediately silenced by how cold it was. It was sharp, razor sharp, and frigid like a blizzard was raging in his dark irises.

You were confused— maybe he was just tired.. Yeah, that was probably it.

“…You ok Samu? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to I just thought that maybe you’d—“

“Why don’t ya go with Atsumu? You seemed awfully chummy with him earlier, so just go with him.” He snapped coldly. But his eyes, they looked so pained, hurt, and somber, not cold and apathetic like his tone.

And with that, he left you to drown in his quicksand-like words, his footsteps receding as he disappeared in the crowd of countless students.

If his words weren’t already enough, you were hit with the sudden realization that he had forgotten about your anniversary, the entire reason behind why you’d asked him to go with you.

What did he mean “you seemed awfully chummy with him earlier”?? What was he— oh.

Oh no.

No no no— he completely misunderstood!

You were talking with Atsumu about today and what you were planning on doing with HIM! It had nothing to do with Atsumu in the slightest!

But you knew Osamu. Too well at that. You knew that he’d be avoiding you now, avoiding you like the plague. He acted petty like that, just like his brother whom he refuses to admit is very similar to him in certain ways.

You knew he wouldn’t let you explain. But what really tore at your soul was that he didn’t even remember today was your anniversary. You had thought that maybe his lack of a “happy anniversary” message in the morning was a fluke, that he was just trying to hurry out the door to make it to school on time.

Now you knew he’d actually completely forgotten. Your throat felt so tight, your stomach hurt from guilt, but also betrayal.

Some part of you, some part of you knew this was going to happen. Or some form of this exact situation at least. You knew he felt inferior to his brother, and that it killed him inside. You’d tried your very hardest to make it so he knew you loved him and you always would choose him and no one else. But what could you do if he just wouldn’t believe your words, let alone believe in himself?

You, his s/o who he’s supposed to confide in, to trust in, to take your word over anyone else’s, didn’t trust your own words that you’d repeated so many times that you felt like a broken record.

He said he did understand and believe it, but he really didn’t. All those nods and silent “mhms” were all fake, he was never really listening. What occurred just moments ago that left you suffocating in pained silence was proof enough of that.

How many times did you have to fucking say it to him? Why were you the one that had to fix his insecurities? They were his insecurities, not yours. It’s self esteem, not your esteem. He was acting petty and jealous, and it was honestly starting to wear your patience thin.

Now that you were reflecting truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to you about anything other than his stresses at practice, or his brother. It was always something negative.. you hadn’t realized how bad it wore you down.

You were constantly dumped with negative emotions, and honestly, it could be called trauma dumping at this point. It was mentally exhausting. Having to reassure him every single day of something you tried so hard to get him to believe in.

But if he still wouldn’t trust your word, why were you wasting your energy and devotion on his irreversible immaturity? Why did you have to do all the work only to receive bad news all the time and be expected to make him feel better about himself? It was making you feel bad about yourself. It was taking a toll on you.

You were basically being the positive energy for two people when it was already exhausting enough to be your own supporter.

You let out a sigh of relief, exhaling tension you didn’t know you truly had. Your mind had decided it was time for you to move on, time for you to make him figure it out on his own. He was a 2nd year student for god's sake, he was damn well old enough to fix his own issues.

However with the exhale, you felt your eyes prick with tears of hurt and betrayal from his carelessness, from his complete lack of regard for your own feelings. He had forgotten your 2 year anniversary, it wasn’t like it was on leap year or something! It was an easy date to remember!

But you assumed that he was so self consumed that perhaps his mind thought it was meaningless to remember. That you and your words were not memorable enough, nor important enough to form a lasting memory.

He was everything to you, and you were everything to him too. So why was he like this? Why was he so insecure and petty? Why didn’t he believe in what you were telling him so adamantly?

He only believed his own thoughts, his word came first. You loved him so much, but it was getting more and increasingly difficult to keep loving him unconditionally. It was an uphill battle.

And you were miserably losing.

You had no chance against his own self being the enemy. You would come in second place no matter how hard you fought because there was no first place for you to take.

You knew he wasn’t the sweetest guy around. He just wasn’t a warm and fuzzy type of person. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you, of course he did. You were the only one he didn’t actively search for dirt to use as blackmail material later.

He wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person that’s for sure, but you loved him anyway. His fox-like eyes, his quiet and stoic demeanor, his tall stature, and his funny hobby of filming the twins fighting or bickering with each other to save for future references and laughs.

The team often wondered how he ended up making you, a kind, friendly, and sincere person, fall in love with him, the opposite of you. He thought about this as well, and sometimes felt guilty about the way he acted, how he was so detached and cold sometimes. Your love language being physical affection and touch combined with being Suna’s s/o was not a good synergy because he wasn’t the biggest fan of too much affection. Of course hugs, cuddles, kisses are all things he loves to give and receive. But in moderation. He got tired of it after too much.

However you did not. You could be pressed against him all day, in fact, holding his hand or being in contact every second you were with him sounded like the perfect scenario to you.

He never admitted it out loud, and didn’t plan to, but your hugs from behind his chair as he’s working on homework or studying were his favorite. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him from behind which allowed him to continue working on what was in front of him, but still allowing you to be near him, for your comforting presence be as close as possible.

Lately he’d gotten a lot of those, courtesy of the upcoming midterms. Now whenever you came over, he was always studying or working on schoolwork with his headphones on, his head leaning over and close to his desk as he worked countless hours and days, including nights. You were straying to get worried by the amount of empty energy drink cans that had accumulated on his desk, even on the top of his dresser. It was so bad that you could notice it while FaceTiming him. Not to mention the trash can underneath his desk was most likely full of them as well, just hidden from the view of the camera.

This was surely not good for him. At all.

Your mind was filled with concerned thoughts of him, worry swirling in your mind, distracting you from your own midterms that you had to study for as well. You suddenly had an idea during the peak of boredom during your math class.

You could go over to Suna’s after school, and buy you both some sort of bento box to eat. You knew Suna probably hadn’t eaten a real meal other than ice pops in days. He kept failing to realize that frozen fruity ice water in the shape of a flattened cylinder wasn’t exactly full of nutrients. Then you two could study together afterwards. Two minds working in tandem were better than two on their own. Or that’s what you thought at least.

Pulling out your phone discreetly, you texted Suna to let him know you were coming over, knowing that he probably would be on his phone right about now.

You: Hey I’m gonna come over today after school with some snacks and food, maybe we can study together?

….

Suna: yeah sure. I can’t text rn I gotta pay attention

You: oh my bad, I’ll see you after school

read at 3:32pm

You were a bit surprised that he was actively paying attention during class, especially since right about now he was most likely in AP world history. His tone even through text sounded stressed and a bit more harsh and cold than usual, but you knew he was anxious and worked up about the midterms which was absolutely valid and normal. But still, it lacked the usual hint of warmth that his texts usually had, regardless of his word choice.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the clock, your gaze intently focused on each centimeter the second hand moved, slowly making its way around the entire circular clock on the wall, rotation after rotation. You swore the second hand moved backwards a couple times, as if time were quite literally reversing as you stared at the clock.

Your teacher’s lecture was essentially gibberish, your brain couldn’t focus on anything but the thought of going home to study and take care of your boyfriend who obviously needed the help. You were probably going to need help too from the looks of it, seeing as how you didn’t remember a single thing nor comprehend anything your teacher was saying.

RING RING

You practically fell out of your seat at the piercing ringing of the school dismissal bell. You sprung to your feet, as did everyone else, and as you were packing up your things, your teacher suddenly shouted something, his voice shouting over the commotion that had started from the bell’s relieving cry.

“Excuse me? The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do!”

Oh for god's sakes— you wanted to take the damn bell and smack his head with it for saying that. Everyone audibly groaned, sitting back down with a synced chorus of irritated and grumpy sighs.

“Ok the homework is just studying and reviewing the accumulated material for the midterm on Thursday. You’re dismissed.”

…Are you serious?

That was it?

That was what he made you all stay for?

Oh nah god give you strength to not clock this bald, old, bitter ass, Walmart bill nye in the face with your textbook. You thought about it, seriously debating whether or not it’d be worth it. But you walked past him, deciding it wasn’t worth your time. You took a deep breath in and out, exhaling the pain of that math class as you walked with a determined look in your eyes. You had a plan.

You’d hit the convenience store on the way to Suna’s house, buy some food for the two of you, and then go over to his house to help him actually eat a normal meal, maybe clean up a bit, and then study of course.

With a fast and brisk pace, you walked into the store with a singular goal in mind, quickly picking out a couple of bentos for the both of you. Exiting the store right after you walked in, your quick pace never wavered as you made your way towards your boyfriend’s house, the plastic bag full of the food and snacks in your left hand, your bag in your right, determination in your eyes, and compassion in your heart.

As you knocked on the door, you saw the familiar face of his mom who immediately smiled upon seeing and recognizing you.

“Ah y/n, I’m so glad you’re here actually. Rintaro just got home— he’s been so quiet lately. He’s been locked up in his room everyday after school and on the weekends.. I think he’s studying but I’m a bit worried that it’s too much. The boy won’t listen to me either about drinking all those energy drinks.. maybe you’ll have better luck?”

His mom looked at you with hopeful eyes, and you smiled, nodding and reassuring her you’d try your best to help. His mom thanked you with a grateful smile, nodding as you walked up the stairs, down the familiar hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You thought about knocking first. Should you? He was your boyfriend.. Did you really need to knock? Well it was courteous to knock before entering anyone’s do—

And suddenly the door opened for you, revealing the tall figure of Suna in front of you. His narrow, fox-like eyes droopy, tired, and strained from staring at a laptop for too long, or reading in the dark. He had faint dark circles underneath his hazel green eyes, and his hands were a bit shaky, just barely noticeable, probably from the obscene amount of caffeine he’d consumed these past few days to stay up and study. You showed him the bag full of various snacks and food with a little smile before he stepped aside, opening the for further for you to come into his room.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you stayed silent as you took in the whirlwind of disarray that was your boyfriend’s room. It looked like hurricane Katrina had ravaged his room. Empty cans everywhere, wrappers from countless ice pops, pencil and eraser shavings, crumpled up pieces of paper, and dirty clothes. It didn’t smell wonderful, that's for sure.

You saw just how exhausted he looked, how stressed and anxious he was. He never usually studied this hard for school, in fact— you’d never really seen him studying much at all. Midterms plus the stress of the upcoming volleyball qualifying tournaments were probably weighing down on him more than he could handle. You looked at him with a worried and sorry look on your face as you watched him eat his bento in silence.

He did not utter a single word, not a hello, not a how are you, just nothing but the silence and the sounds of chewing. It was awkward for you to say the least. So you decided to break this uncomfortable silence, trying to bring up a more light hearted topic to hopefully bring some light to his dark room.

“So.. Anything new and funny happen with the twins?”

You knew he liked to leave the twins to fight and bicker without stopping them because it was fun to film their brawls. He could care less about them hurting each other by accident, it was entertaining to watch them fight. He didn’t respond, he simply kept chewing, his eyes lost in thought as they stared at the ground with nothing but a vacant empty iris with no color or hue. It was like all the color was sucked out of his eyes, and it was starting to take his skin too. He was getting paler as you sat and stared at him!

Maybe he didn’t hear you, so you repeated yourself a second time, not noticing how the moment you started speaking, his fists clenched and trembled as he gripped his pant legs.

“Rin?? Can you hear m—“

“God y/n can you shut the hell up please?!” He snapped, his fist slamming against the hardwood floor, making the house shake just slightly, making you jump in surprise and shock. Your eyes were wide, searching his gaze for a hint of guilt or remorse, maybe he was just stressed and overstimulated?

But his eyes were ice cold, filled with irritation and frustration, not a hint of remorse in them. Did.. did he really mean that?

Surely he didn’t.

No he didn’t, right?

…Right?

“S-sorry..” You couldn’t help but stutter a bit, taken aback by his sudden outburst. He continued eating in silence, you could practically feel his frustration and stress seething off of him like smoke. You purse your lips together, struggling to not release your tears.

You knew it wasn’t all that bad, but still, it hurt to hear him say that to you. You knew it wasn’t supposed to make you feel this horrible, but it did. No amount of convincing yourself it wasn’t that bad of a sentence would take away or lessen the pain it gave you.

About 39 minutes of dead silence followed, and you got up, taking all the empty cans and containers scattered across his room and sticking it all into a trash bag, tying it up and leaving it by his door for him to take out later. You decided that maybe it would be best to leave him alone, and grabbed your things, opening the door to leave, glancing back at your boyfriend who was studying, wearing his headphones. You wanted to say goodbye, you wanted to say you loved him and to not push itself too far. Most of all, you wanted to hear him say that he loved you. But judging from earlier, he probably wouldn’t even want to hear your voice at all.

“See you later Suna.” You muttered under your breath, closing the door behind you as you left. Did he even realize you were leaving? He didn’t even look up from his desk. He didn’t thank you for the food. He didn’t thank you for cleaning up. He didn’t thank you for trying to help him. Nothing you did was acknowledged. You went out of your way to help him, and it appeared that maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do.

You quietly walked down the steps, opening the front door and closing it behind you.

With your back against the wall, hidden from Suna’s family, that’s when you began to feel tears welling up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks as you hid your face in your sleeves. Why were you crying? Was the stress of the midterms catching up to you too? Or was it purely because of his outburst?

You didn’t know. Hell— you didn’t know anything did you? Obviously not it seemed.

a/n - idk why but I’m in a very angsty mood 😂 I’m sorry for hurting you guys I really am 😭😭😭

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 13 - aftercare

laswell x f!reader | 900 words cw: feeeeeeelings, fluff, mentions of spanking+biting+strap-ons  a/n: reader is kate’s wife. one brief mention of reader having a shaved head. (shaved heads are hot as fuck.) a cute, soft interlude. summary: you take care of kate. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

“That was…”

“New record?”

“Kate.”

Kate rubs the upper part of your arm good-naturedly, chuckling softly and breathlessly as you nestle against her chest. You think your cooling sweat’s stuck you together, feeling her ribs peel and mesh back against you with her laughter. The two of you glisten in the dim lamplight, its yellow-orange haze casting your prone silhouettes in the hotel room.

Drawing your chin over the cleft of one of her tits, you feel a pang of possessive satisfaction at the sight of her eyes crinkling and laugh lines deepening. She’s flushed, a pretty pink-rose color. Soft, sweet, and loose-limbed, just as you like. And you so rarely get to see your wife this way—completely at peace and relaxed.

“You alright, baby?” You ask, tracing your fingertips down the valley of her breasts and sternum. A fierce tenderness flares in your heart as you admire the fading indentation of your teeth above her nipple. “You did so well for me.”

“I’m fine, really.” She sighs, smiling at you down her nose, head cushioned on a pillow. “You went for it, huh?”

You smirk, rising slowly, letting your mouth drift over her other breast as you sit up on your knees. “I have to make every moment count. Don’t know when I’ll get to do that next, you know?”

Instantly, you know it’s the wrong thing to say. She masks it well, but there’s a flicker of hurt in her eyes. You beat yourself up for it and move straight into apologizing.

“Sorry, that was an idiotic thing to say. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She shakes her head, still smiling, but her hands retract and clasp beneath her head. “It’s fine.”

But you know it’s not fine. You put your foot so far in your mouth, it’s kicked a hole in the back of your head. It’s not like Kate has total control over where her work takes her, or for how long. And you can’t, won’t, ask her to give it up. Not when she’s spent her life clawing her way up the ladder. You scrub your hand over your shorn hair, letting the little hairs prickle your palm, still faintly stinging from a few rogue spanks.

“No, no, it’s not. Seriously. I was trying to be funny and sexy, and I just ended up being rude.”

“Baby,” Kate’s eyes narrow a little, and she frowns, shifting again to prop herself up on her elbows. “It’s okay. I get it. You’re forgiven, so stop beating yourself up and get us a towel, okay?”

You waffle. You’re forgiven, but you’re half-tempted to sneak another apology between her legs.

As if reading your mind, she shuts her slick thighs, shooting you a stern look that breaks with a knowing grin. “No.”

“Okay, but I am—”

“No more apologies. Up you get.” She pats your flank as you carefully extricate yourself from the bed. “Don’t think I can walk just yet.”

Out of her reach, you shoot a smug look over your shoulder as you pace toward the room’s ensuite. “Yeah? Wonder why…”

“Probably because my wife fucked the shit out of me!” She calls back, sending you into a giggling fit in the bathroom. 

You wipe yourself off first, then grab a fresh towel for her and dampen it. Returning to the bed, you find Kate has let her hair down. Her sandy blonde locks fan over the pillow, swinging like fine ribbons when she sits up again to take the towel.

You hold the towel to your chest. “Let me?”

She assesses you for a moment, reading into your offer, then relents with a mute nod. 

Starting from the beads of sweat cooling on her forehead and working down, you lavish every inch of Kate’s body anew. Your slip-up hasn’t strayed far from your mind, circling the edges of your thoughts as you clean up. Kate’s body bears scars from her job. Some you don’t know the causes of—she can’t or won’t say—but you can guess. Two burns on one wrist. A stab wound on a thigh. Then there are the smattering freckles on her cheeks and neck, small, light brown dots of evidence of ample time spent in the sun somewhere far from here.

You’ll doze after this, shower in an hour or two, so you take deep breaths when you gently dab at her sex. She doesn’t seem to notice, eyes shut and breathing slowed. You can’t help it. She smells like the two of you. When you finish, you grab the discarded strap and hang the harness over the showerhead to be sorted later. You clean the toy in the sink and try not to let your mind wander.

(It’s impossible not to think of how Kate looks split open under you. Reducing a woman like her to a quivering, moaning mess.)

Before you let your imagination wind you up, you return to your wife.

You press a few kisses to her temple and shoulder as you join her in bed and pull the thin top sheet over you. Your bodies fit together perfectly, with her lying atop your chest this time. You stroke lazy designs into her skin and card your fingers through her hair.

“I love you, Kate.”

She sighs, deep and content. “Love you too. Happy anniversary.”

[worldlxvlys]

loving me

dwb! chris x reader

warnings: smut (pls don’t read if you don’t like), cursing, cream pie, p in v, mutual masturbation

a/n: i know y’all have been wanting this, so here she is ! hope you like it <333

part 2 of every word

when we got to the bathroom, chris began to draw up the bath water.

i sat on the sink while i watched him check the temperature of the water.

he literally makes everything look hot.

feeling my gaze on him, he turned around and walked towards me.

“what? why are you lookin at me like that?” he asked.

my smile widened, turning into a grin. “no reason, i just love you” i said, turning bashful.

he smiled at that, moving to stand between my legs.

his eyes scanned my face, taking in my features as he reached up to cup my cheek.

“i love you too” he whispered, before placing his lips on mine in a sweet kiss.

my hands found their way around his shoulders, and my legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to me.

the feeling of his body flush against mine was intoxicating.

the rush that i got when chris’s lips touched mine was better than any drug chris has ever brought to me.

and while kissing chris like this was thrilling, it was also sweet and soothing.

he gently ran his hands along the sides of my waist, as his lips moved perfectly against mine.

he gently tugged on the hem of my shirt, prompting me to separate our lips and pull it off.

as i unhooked my bra, chris pulled his hoodie off. our pants and underwear followed quickly after.

once the water reached a reasonable height, he stopped it from running and helped me into the tub.

once he sat down, he pulled me down onto his lap and rested his head in the crook of my neck.

his hands grabbed my ass, lightly massaging and rubbing it.

i let out a sigh of content, basking in the pure bliss of the moment. he placed a kiss on my shoulder and took one of my tits in his mouth.

he never broke eye contact with me as his tongue swirled around my nipple and his hand moved to my pussy, running through my folds.

“fuck, chris” i sighed out as my head fell back.

he pushed a finger in, slowly moving it in and out of me.

i wrapped my hand around his dick, slowly stroking him.

“fuckkk” he moaned into my nipple.

he added in another finger, keeping his pace steady.

“yeah, chris. feels so fucking good” i gasped out, eyes screwing shut.

he pulled his mouth away from my chest, looking up at me. “you’re so fucking gorgeous ma, taking my fingers so well” he whispered, before pushing his lips to mine again.

our tongues explored each other’s mouths as we moaned into them.

“let’s see how well you take me” he said he reached down between us.

he took my hand and used it to run his tip through my folds, making us both moan out.

he placed his forehead on mine as i sunk down on his dick.

“shitttt ma” “holy fuck chris”

his hands grabbed my ass as he slowly fucked up into me.

the sound of the water splashing and our skin slapping against each other’s bounced off of the bathroom walls.

his thrusts were slow, but deep, making the moment that much more intense. his eyes never left mine as he continued to whisper sweet nothings to me.

between the intimacy and the immense amount of pleasure, i couldn’t help but keep clenching around him.

“o-oh my god” he whimpered out as his pace began to increase.

my eyes screwed shut and my eyebrows furrowed, as my head dropped to his shoulder.

“f-fuck chris, holy shit” it was almost too much to handle.

he continued to pound into me, his pace relentless.

my nails dug into his arms, leaving red crescents on his skin.

i began to clench around him again, signaling that i was approaching my orgasm.

“you close, baby? look at me, wanna see that gorgeous face when you come on my cock” i picked up my head.

i took in the loving look in his eyes and immediately came undone on top of him.

“fuckkkk chris, i’m cumming !” i screamed as i squeezed my legs around him, hips twitching.

chris followed behind me, moaning into my ear as his thrusts grew sloppy.

“o-ohhhhh fuck ma” he groaned as he shot his load into me, making me moan.

we both just sat there, heavy breathing as we tried to catch our breath and recover.

he pulled me closer to him, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“thank you for loving me” he whispered, lightly rubbing circles onto my back.

i pulled my head back, making eye contact with him.

“of course, baby. you deserve it” i gave him a quick kiss on his lips and smiled at him.

——————

hope you like ittttt :)

dwb! chris masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @frankeesturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @wh0szjoanna @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson

[clovestreet]

Giving Finnick Odair Head

giving finnick odair head

warning⚠️ SMUT 16+ ( minors dni) oral sex (m receiving) slight tiny bit of praise

an: the lack of hunger games character smut on this platform is absolutely mind boggling so i took things into my own hands😋this is my first time writing for finnick so please be kind:) i hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you want me to write about next:)

-While Finnick is typically the one who wants to be in control, he secretly LOVES when you choose to do so yourself. It’s such a big turn-on for him.

-When it comes to sex, he always wants to make you feel good first, and almost never lets you pleasure him before you been taken care of…. at least twice.

-Finnick definitely is not the kind of person to directly ask for head, but he definitely won’t say no if you offer it. He would be reluctant at first, because pleasuring you is always his first priority.

“C’mon baby, let me make you feel good.”

-After some begging and convincing, he finally leans back against the headboard with his hands laced behind his head with nothing but lust and desire behind his hazel eyes.

-This man is breathing heavy and shaking under your touch before have even started. He would definitely gently tug your hair while you tease him with kisses down his gorgeously tan and toned body from his abs to the top of his thighs.

-From the very moment you wrap your lips around him, he is GROANING. Deep and throaty groans.

-His eyes are instantly screwed shut with pleasure and his hands are gripping your hair a little tighter than before.

-Every once in a while, he would look down at you and just watch you and then throw his head back with pleasure and moan.

-His moans were so pretty, masculine but also soft and almost choked out at times. Finnick was never a man who was afraid to be vocal and tell his girl how good she’s making him feel.

-He loved to talk to you through the whole thing too. Nothing was better than watching you look up at him and feel you moan around him in response. It drove him absolutely crazy.

“Mhm, yeah baby just like that”.

“Fuck, you’re so good y/n”.

-The deeper you took him, the louder he got. Do with that what you will;)

-As he neared his release, he would gently roll his hips up into you, silently telling you he wanted, he needed more when his words no longer served him. All he could do is whine your name over and over again in between his increasingly louder moans.

-“Y/n don’t stop”.

-“Fuck y/n r-right there”.

“F-feels so good baby.”

-You listened to him and took him even deeper into your throat and swallowed. He began to snap his hips up sloppily. He size was nothing to scoff at and you couldn’t help but gag.

-The vibration brought him even closer to the edge and he was a moaning mess now. His groans were low and broken as he bobbed your head up and down on himself. He was begging for you to bring him to his release.

“So close baby”.

“Fuck- I’m right there don’t stop”’.

-The second you took his balls into your fingers it was over. Finnick was a goner.

-He was an absolutely beautiful sight to watch as he came undone underneath you. His mouth fell open into the perfect “O” shape as his loudest moan was forced out from deep within him. He cursed your name over and over. His abs were flexed and almost trembling as his orgasm rattled through him. His fingers were wrapped tightly in your hair, never letting up for one second. He kept rolling his hips up into you, becoming increasingly more sloppy as he rode out his high.

-Once you knew he was finished, you trailed your way back up to his mouth with kisses and he pulled you into a deep and breathless kiss, fingers drawing circles around your lower back.

-His face was flushed warm and his skin barely glowing with a sheen of sweat. He looked angelic as he stared into your eyes.

“That was- the best sex I have ever had in my life”.

“Oh shut up Finn” you giggle.

“But now I’m afraid it’s time I return the favor.”

[goddessofvalyria]

Mr. & Mrs. Targaryen pt. 2 | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!oc

Summary: Aemond Targaryen is the CEO of the family business, the Targaryen Company and is part of the élite of the King's Landing Society. Daelia Targaryen is the rebellious daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra. They meet at a gala, unaware of how that meeting will change things forever...

TW for all the story: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Daelia Targaryen with long dyed black hair and purple eyes, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (m and f) tits sucking/play, SMUT, sexual tension, sex, violence, guns, alcohol, drugs, angst, sad, death, murder, dark themes, Targcest (he is the uncle and she is the niece, they're Targaryen....) This is a modern Aemond in modern AU.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

Words: 3333

Previous part: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Next part: Chapter 3

As the elevator doors slide open to reveal Aemond's apartment, Daelia steps into a world of luxury and modernity. The space is a sleek, black-and-chrome masterpiece, every detail meticulously chosen, reflecting both elegance and power. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of King’s Landing at night, the city lights twinkling like stars beneath them. The air inside is cool, tinged with the faint scent of something exotic and expensive.

Daelia strides into the apartment with a casual confidence, her satin dress flowing around her like liquid silver. The fabric clings to her curves, leaving her back exposed in a way that draws Aemond’s eye immediately. At the bottom of her dress, he catches a glimpse of her Gucci black thong, a subtle but deliberate detail that makes his pulse quicken. She moves with the grace of someone completely at ease in her own skin, her every step as deliberate as the tilt of her head when she glances over her shoulder at him.

“There is a beautiful view from here” she murmurs, her voice soft as she gazes out over the city. Her tone is almost wistful, though laced with a hint of something deeper, something Aemond can’t quite place. But he doesn’t respond immediately. He’s too busy watching her, captivated by the way the lights outside play across her skin, the smooth expanse of her back, the way her hair falls just so over one shoulder. There’s an effortless sensuality about her that he finds both intriguing and dangerous.

Daelia turns around, and Aemond’s breath catches in his throat as he notices the complete lack of a bra beneath her dress. The fabric falls in such a way that leaves little to the imagination, the lines of her body clearly defined beneath the satin. She’s nonchalant, almost as if she’s unaware of the effect she’s having on him, but Aemond knows better. Everything about Daelia is calculated, deliberate, and tonight, she’s playing a game that he’s more than willing to join.

She crosses the room with the same languid grace, his giant dog, Vhagar, watching silently from a plush bed in the corner. The dog’s presence is imposing, but it’s clear that Vhagar is more guardian than pet, her eyes watching Aemond.

“Dragonstone is so boring” Daelia says suddenly, her voice tinged with frustration as she sinks onto the sofa. “It’s beautiful, sure, but there’s nothing to do. No one to see. Just endless, suffocating tradition...and family.”

Aemond moves closer, slipping off his jacket and tossing it onto the back of a chair. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, the tension in the room thickening as he approaches her. He gestures to the seat next to him. “Sit with me” he says, his voice low and inviting.

Daelia hesitates for just a moment before she glides over, slipping off her heels with a sensual ease that doesn’t escape Aemond’s notice. She settles next to him, her body language both relaxed and charged, a dichotomy that keeps him on edge.

They talk, their conversation flowing easily, though underlined with a current of sexual tension that neither of them bothers to hide.

"You're different" Aemond said. "You too, uncle."

Daelia leans back against the sofa, her dress shifting to reveal more of her smooth skin. Aemond watches as the thin straps of her dress slide down her shoulders, and he can’t resist reaching out, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin, following the path of the delicate fabric.

She shivers slightly at his touch, but instead of pulling away, she leans into it, tilting her head to look at him. “Take off the eye patch fo me” she whispers, her voice barely audible but filled with a daring that sends a thrill through Aemond.

For a moment, he hesitates, the instinct to protect himself warring with the desire to give in to her request. But something in her eyes—something challenging and sincere—compels him to nod. With deliberate movements, he removes the leather patch, revealing the sapphire that replaces his missing eye, the jewel glinting in the low light of the room.

Daelia doesn’t flinch. Instead, she leans closer, her fingers tracing the scar that runs down his face, her touch featherlight but electrifying. “It’s sexy” she comments, her tone laced with genuine admiration.

Aemond can’t help the small, almost embarrassed smile that tugs at his lips. He’s used to people reacting with horror or pity, but never with the kind of fascination that Daelia is showing. “You think so?” he asks, his voice rougher than he intended.

She nods, her eyes never leaving his as she continues to trace the line of the scar, her touch almost reverent. “You wear your scars like armor” she says softly. “But I think they make you more… real. More human.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, the air thick with something unspoken. Finally, Aemond breaks it, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why were you really at the gala tonight, Daelia?”

She meets his gaze, her fingers still lightly resting against his skin. Her expression softens, a rare vulnerability slipping through. “I wanted to see my favorite uncle again,” she replies, her tone light but with an underlying sincerity that makes Aemond’s chest tighten.

His breath hitches as she leans in, her lips just inches from his. Her eyes flicker down to his mouth before meeting his gaze again, and Aemond feels the last of his restraint slipping away.

“Is that all?” he murmurs, his voice rough with the need he’s been trying so hard to contain.

Daelia smiles, a slow, knowing smile that speaks of shared secrets and desires. “For now” she whispers before closing the distance between them, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that’s both tender and searing, the culmination of all the tension that has been building between them since the moment they locked eyes across the ballroom.

As their lips meet, Aemond wraps his arms around her, pulling her close as the last of his resistance crumbles, lost in the intoxicating presence of the woman who has always been just out of reach.

Daelia closes the distance between them with a swift, deliberate motion, capturing Aemond's lips in a kiss that is anything but gentle. It's a passionate, searing kiss that ignites every nerve in his body, overwhelming him with the intensity of her touch. Her hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer as if she can't get enough, and Aemond feels a surge of something primal, something uncontrollable, rise within him.

He responds instinctively, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her onto his lap as the kiss deepens. There's nothing tentative about it now—it's all-consuming, a collision of desire and desperation that leaves them both breathless. The taste of her, the feel of her body pressed against his, sends his senses spiraling, and for a moment, he feels like he's drowning in her.

But then, just as he's about to lose himself completely, Daelia pulls back slightly, her lips still brushing against his. Aemond inhales sharply, trying to steady his breathing, but her presence, the scent of her, the warmth of her skin, makes it impossible to think clearly.

"My favorite uncle" she whispers against his lips, the words a soft, teasing caress that makes his chest tighten.

The phrase, so simple yet so charged, sends a shiver down his spine. It’s a reminder of who they are, of the history that binds them, yet it also speaks to the connection that has been simmering beneath the surface for years. Aemond’s hands tighten on her waist, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggles to find words, to ground himself in a moment that feels like it's slipping away from him.

But before he can speak, Daelia kisses him again, and this time, it’s even more fervent, more intense. Her lips move against his with a hunger that matches his own, and Aemond feels himself giving in, letting the heat of the moment consume him. The world around them fades, leaving only the two of them, locked in an embrace that is as fierce as it is forbidden.

Daelia begins to unbutton his shirt, her favorite uncle, has toned abs and a strong but soft chest. Almost angelic.. His v-line is defined and her eyes wandered to the hard bulge in his pants that presses under her thighs. Daelia remains to look at him in amazement, her hands touched the warm skin, she took off his shirt, His arms are long and veiny just like her hands, the muscles defined and toned.

"Undress me" she whispers kissing him on the lips, Aemond takes the dress in his hands and slips it off, over her head. She is almost naked, wearing only the Gucci thong, her breasts are large and toned, pressing against his chest.

The girl begins to move slowly against his hips, separating them only two strips of fabric. Daelia moans, she feels her panties getting wet, she is excited. Aemond tightens his grip on her hips with one hand, squeezing her breast with the other.

"I want to ruin you pretty girl" he whispers as their lips meet in another dirty and sexual kiss, Daelia bites his lip and continues to move on top of him. He is hard, almost painful. "Ruin me"

Aemond looks at her with his good eye and his middle finger slides between her thighs, pushing her panties aside and penetrating her. "Oh, uncle"

"Move your hips princess"

Daelia gasps and begins to move against the two fingers that are giving her pleasure, the feeling of his fingers inside her is heavenly for both of them: Daelia is hot, soaking wet, soft and tight, Aemond is hard, aching as she moves on his fingers, riding them desperately, Aemond adds his thumb again, wanting to make sure her clit is not deprived of pleasure.

Daelia is consumed with pleasure, Aemond's fingers are pushing her to the limit and she finds herself pressed against him, their lips connected. "Aem-" her lips are captured in a kiss. "Shh, niece" Aemond hisses continuing to give her pleasure, he can't wait to sink between her thighs and lick her, make her his, so much so that he wants to have her there forever, every night warming his bed.  "Uncle, I''m-I''m close" she whispers, her eyes shining and Aemond makes her come on his fingers. 

“Ride my fingers pretty girl”

Daelia is tightened around him, the orgasm overwhelms her. Between her thighs she is soaking wet, sticky and Aemond finds himself holding a woman in his arms for the first time. 

"Shh" he whispers. Daelia trembles, she notices the bulge in his pants. "Can I do something for you, uncle?" Aemond who is known for being a man who takes everything he wants during sex, shakes his head. "Not tonight" he whispers kissing her temple. "I thought you wanted to fuck me" she teases. "We'll have time to do that too" Daelia, calmer now feels a wave of shame. She is naked, wearing only a thong.

Aemond hands her his shirt, covering her. "Do you want to take a shower?" he asks. "I thought you kicked women out of your house after..." Aemond looks at her. "Not you" he gets up from the couch, Daelia covers herself with his shirt. "You need a shower" he leads her to the bathroom.

She enters, the bathroom is huge and she thinks about what it would be like to have sex in that shower or ride him in the jacuzzi. She jumps when she feels him behind her. "For you" Aemond hands her his black Metallica t-shirt and leaves.

Daelia stands alone in the bathroom, the sound of the shower echoing in the sleek, modern space. The steam rises around her as she steps under the hot water, letting it cascade over her body, washing away the remnants of the night. Her mind is still racing from the intensity of what just happened, the feel of Aemond's lips on hers, the weight of his hands on her skin. But here, in the privacy of the shower, she allows herself a moment to breathe, to collect her thoughts.

After a while, she turns off the water and grabs a towel, drying herself off before reaching for some makeup remover she found on the counter. The brand is expensive, the kind of luxury item she imagines a woman with status might use—probably left behind by some woman Aemond was once engaged to or involved with. The thought sends a pang of something unidentifiable through her, but she pushes it aside, focusing instead on removing the last traces of mascara and lipstick from her face. 

Once her makeup is gone, Daelia’s reflection stares back at her from the mirror—barefaced, raw, and more vulnerable than she’s felt in a long time. She wear the t-shirt Aemond he gave her, it drapes over her body, soft and comforting. She slips it on, the fabric cool against her freshly showered skin. Even though she’s dressed, the fact that it’s his shirt, combined with the intensity of their shared moment, makes her feel exposed in a way she’s never experienced before.

Before leaving the bathroom, she washes her Gucci thong in the sink, wringing it out carefully before hanging it to dry on the hot radiator.

She finds Aemond in the living room, sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants. The dim light casts shadows across his chiseled features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze as he watches her approach. The sight of him like this, relaxed yet still holding that aura of power, sends a thrill through her. 

He doesn’t say anything at first, just gestures for her to sit beside him again. The invitation is both casual and intimate, and she accepts, her bare feet padding softly across the cool floor as she moves to sit next to him. The leather of the couch is smooth beneath her, and she sinks into it, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers.

Aemond reaches for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, pulling one out and offering it to her. “A cig?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of that earlier tension still lingering.

Daelia takes the cigarette from him, her fingers brushing against his as she does. There’s a familiarity in the gesture, but also an underlying current of something more. He lights it for her, and she inhales deeply, the nicotine calming her nerves as she exhales a thin stream of smoke into the air.

Sitting here, so close to him, wearing nothing but his t-shirt, Daelia feels a mix of emotions. The power dynamics between them, the unspoken history, the raw attraction—it’s all there, simmering just beneath the surface. She glances over at Aemond, taking in the way he looks at her, his gaze intense and focused, as if he’s seeing every part of her, even the parts she tries to keep hidden.

Even though the moment feels charged, there’s also a strange sense of peace, as if for now, in this quiet space, they can just be themselves, without the weight of expectations or the shadows of their pasts looming over them. Daelia takes another drag of her cigarette, then leans back against the couch, feeling both vulnerable and strangely powerful in his presence.

Aemond reaches out, his hand resting lightly on her thigh, his touch warm and grounding. The silence between them is thick with unspoken words, but for now, neither of them feels the need to break it. They sit there, side by side, lost in their thoughts, the cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling as the night stretches on.

The room is steeped in a heavy silence, the only sound the faint crackling of the cigarette as Daelia takes another slow drag. The smoke curls up around her, hazy and delicate, as she speaks in a voice so soft, it’s almost a whisper.

“You were the first...” she murmurs, her eyes flickering down to the floor, unable to meet Aemond’s intense gaze. “The first kiss… the first to finger me.”

Aemond’s eyes widen slightly, though he tries to keep his expression neutral, the weight of her confession settling over him like a heavy cloak. “Were you… a virgin?” His voice is measured, careful, as if he’s treading on dangerous ground.

“I still am, you didn't fuck me” Daelia admits, her tone carrying a mix of defiance and vulnerability. She stands from the couch, the t-shirt she’s wearing—his t-shirt—falling loosely around her, making her seem both ethereal and exposed. “In the elite of King’s Landing, there are men from every house who ask my parents to be their bride.”

Aemond’s brow furrows as she continues, his mind racing to keep up with the implications of her words. But Daelia’s next confession stops him in his tracks.

“But I don’t want to get married, uncle...unless is you, Mr. Aemond Targaryen”

Aemond feels a twist in his chest, a mix of protectiveness and something darker, something he can’t quite name. He’s about to ask her why she’s telling him this when she turns to him, her eyes burning with an intensity that makes it clear she’s been holding something back.

“Why did you come here?” His voice is low, almost a growl, as if he’s bracing himself for whatever truth she’s about to reveal.

Daelia hesitates for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly as she takes another drag from her cigarette, the embers glowing bright in the dim light. “That was the truth” she says, exhaling smoke as she speaks, “But I hid part of it from you.”

Aemond’s gaze narrows, suspicion and curiosity warring within him. “What part?”

“I did it on purpose,” Daelia admits, her voice raw. “I thought that if you and I fucked, compromising me… maybe…” She trails off, her gaze dropping to the floor again, as if ashamed of the words she’s about to say. “Maybe I would have felt better about myself.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and charged, as Aemond processes what she’s just revealed. There’s a part of him that’s furious—furious at her for risking so much, and at himself for being drawn into this dangerous game. But there’s also a part of him that understands, a part that knows what it’s like to feel powerless and desperate to reclaim that power.

“My parents stopped me from seeing you,” Daelia continues, her voice growing stronger now, fueled by the emotions she’s kept bottled up for so long. "Do you remember? We when were younger… we were friends, but after the war that involved the family they said to me that you were a bad influence on me"

“And you like to break the rules” Aemond says, his tone accusatory yet laced with a hint of admiration. It’s something they share, this desire to defy expectations, to carve out their own paths in a world that tries to confine them.

“As you like to do, Aemond” she counters, her eyes meeting his with a challenge that sends a jolt through him.

In an instant, Aemond is on his feet, crossing the distance between them with purpose. He stands before her, his gaze locking onto hers, the air between them crackling with a tension that’s impossible to ignore. Slowly, deliberately, he leans in, pressing his lips to the soft skin of her neck. He kisses her there, a tender yet possessive gesture that makes Daelia’s breath hitch in her throat.

“Come to bed with me” he whispers against her skin, his voice low and thick with desire.

Daelia closes her eyes, the sensation of his lips on her neck sending shivers down her spine. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just lets herself feel—feel the heat of his breath, the weight of his words, the unspoken promise in his touch.

Finally, she opens her eyes and meets his gaze, her decision clear. She nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it’s enough. Aemond takes her between his arms and guide her to his bedroom.