Summary: Your boyfriend leaning on doorframes is one of your biggest weaknesses.
a/n: veryyy heavily inspired by that one tiktok trend, AND IM SO SORRY FOR THE SMALL HIATUS, life has been very eventful for me and we celebrated my birthday last week ! another apology for this being so short, however I’ve been working on the nikolai series and the other Kenji requests and I guarantee that those works are longer!!
enjoy!
Was this a mistake? You honestly have no idea.
Your boyfriend is currently standing in front of you with his hand pressed against the wall behind you as he looked down at you, whose brain was currently short circuiting.
“Do-“ you choked on your saliva as you began to speak, “Do you have to be so close?”
This earned a snicker from Kenji as a response as he leaned his face closer to yours, he opened his mouth to begin speaking but a laugh escaped from him before he could get out any words.
“Sorry-,” he cleared his throat before regaining his composure, “In my defense, you requested this from me. Am I not supposed to be this close?”
A few hours ago you asked your boyfriend to do this one thing that the male love interests in the books you’ve read do quite often that never fails to make your heart swell.
Now, you can’t tell if you regret asking this of him or if it’s just that you weren’t expecting him to play the part so well.
“Well,” you began to stutter, “I just, you,” soon enough, the words you began to stutter out turned into a bunch of mouth opening movements with no words coming out before you stopped completely; cheeks flushed as you looked down at the floor in front of you with Kenji’ face still close to yours and the heat of his gaze being very well felt.
“Mhm,” he hummed out, clearly enjoying your flustered state.
You cleared your throat in an attempt to calm yourself down, “Just wasn’t prepared,” you mumbled out.
Kenji barked out in laughter at your words before bringing his lips to the top of your head, “You’re too cute.”
His words only made matters worst for you as you felt your face getting even more warmer. You reached out for the hem of his shirt but ended up connecting with the top of his pants, not wanting to look up to see his reaction you opted for just pulling him closer.
“Woah there,” you heard from above you, “If you wanted to take this to the bedroom all you had to do was ask-,”
“Shut up Kenji,” when he was close enough for satisfaction you buried your face into his chest, the warmth of your cheeks going through the fabric.
“This was a mistake,” he heard you mumble out.
“Aw don’t say that, that hurts my feelings,” he replies as he wraps his arms around your body.
“Sorry,” you say even though you knew it didn’t actually hurt his feelings. Neither one of you say a thing as you start to relax in his arms, the rhythm of his heartbeat calming you down from your flustered frenzy.
I'm FARAH. My family has lost everything in the war in Gaza. We’ve shared our story on GoFundMe, and we would be grateful if you could take a moment to see the pinned post, reblog it, and donate if possible. A $10 will be sufficient & supportive.Here’s the link to our story:
Do you play any video games? if not then this is going to be real awkward ( 😭) but I’m having a brain rot over this character and I need to get this off my chest 👹
and you’re my comfort blog
but I need zack fair’s actual cock in my pussy HES SUCH A PRETTY PRINCESS I NEED HIM IN BED WITH ME RIGHT NEOW
I do, and some of those games are final fantasy !
this is extremely valid, zack deserves the princess treatment in bed (and tbh! any time!)
Miguel O’Hara prostate massage…… oh my oh my I would very much like to see it
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏: 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞
— 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
“Uh huh,” Miguel answers sarcastically, his eyes flickering down to your hands watching the way your thumbs pushed against each other as you tried to explain yourself.
“And I just think that you deserve to be treated well too,” you look up at him through your lashes, the sound of your beating heart drumming in your ears making it to difficult to remain composed in front of your boyfriend as he leans down to match your height.
His lips part but he doesn’t say anything. He likes to watch the way your confident gaze morphs into shyness as the smell of your own lust fills the air.
He’s sure you don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing.
He raises a brow, “Are you saying you haven’t been treating me well,” he means to jest—but your eyes widen at that implication.
“No! That’s not what I mean—I meant—,” Miguel cuts you off as his lips harshly connect with yours. You whimper into his mouth as he grabs onto your hips and pulls you closer—your head tilts back in the process.
You stumble on your feet as Miguel starts to walk, his grip on your hips allowing him to control your movements as he led you to the couch.
You gasp as you trip on your feet again, “Miguel—!”
He hums into your mouth as you fall into the couch, his tongue greeting yours as you gasp once more. A trail of saliva connects you two as he pulls away—his body still on top of yours—with a smirk present on his face at your half lidded eyes.
“Have I ever told you that you’re so sweet?”
You snicker as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you up. “Is that supposed to be a sexual innuendo?”
He rolls his eyes, letting a comfortable silence settle in the air.
“So what position should I be in?”
You freeze at his sudden straightforward question, “What?”
He grabs your hand rubbing your knuckles, his eyes meeting yours, “What position should I be in,” he repeats normally.
He continues before you can speak, “You wanted to, and I quote, fuck me as if it’s a canon event, right?”
You look at him like a deer caught in headlights. “Um. Ye—yeah.”
He tilts his head, feigning innocence as he leans into you, pressing sloppy kisses onto the side of your neck, “So how do you plan to do that, hermosa?”
You shudder as his tongue trails up the side of your throat, stopping to suck when he finds that sensitive spot.
“Miguel,” you say quietly, a hand pressed against he chest. “I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”
He hums against your neck, “Then tell me what to do.”
You weakly press against his chest, “Take off your pants. Then get on your hands and knees.”
You feel him smile against your neck before he presses a soft kiss, then pulls away. He keeps his eyes trained on yours as he unzips his pants, a sigh of relief leaves him as he hard cock gets less restrained.
“Miguel. Speed it up.”
He raises a brow at your change of demeanor, but does as you say with no complaints. Assuming you had a similar mindset as him whenever he says get on your hands and knees, he turns away having his ass faced towards you as he holds himself up with his arms.
“Good boy,” Miguel instinctively arches his back at your praise.
He holds his breath as he hears you moving behind him, his entire body on edge as he waits for you to touch him. His arms buck as one of your fingers trail up his dick, your finger pressing against his hole quicker than he could keep up.
“Ready?”
“Ye—ah,” a moan rips out of his throat immediately as you thrust one of your fingers inside his pretty hole.
His arms fail him leaving him to fall first first into the couch, the thrust of your fingers quickening by the millisecond as you locate his prostate in record time.
“Herm—,” he tries to say as moans interrupt him, “Hermosa.”
You press a kiss on the arch of his back, slowing your fingers down just to quicken your pace again as Miguel lifts his head from the couch, his mouth hung wide open.
You smile down at him—he can’t see it but that doesn’t matter.
Miguel jumps up, his arms suddenly supporting him again as you assault his prostate. In and out, in and out, hit, hit, hit—it felt good. You felt good.
His head dropped, feeling weak at the constant pleasure.
He tried to push himself up again, but couldn’t, not with way you so sweetly hit that bundle of nerves that caused his brain to go blank. Not with the way you laid your body on top of his, your clothed chest meeting his bare back. Not with the way—the way—
“Hermosa,”
“Yes?”
“Can you—,” he mouths hangs open as he body rocked back and forth, “Can you add ano—another?”
“Another?”
You kiss the back of his neck, “One finger isn’t enough?” You tease.
His mouth hangs open again, but no words come out.
“Cat caught your tongue?”
“I’m—,” he breathes out, “Just—mierda—“
A quiet, surprised “oh” leaves your mouth as Miguel falls back onto the couch—a loud, drawn out moan comes out muffled as the arch of his back becomes more defined.
You watch the puddle of cum forming beneath him as his thighs spasm, his hole clenching around your singular finger—yet that was enough for him.
You rub a hand up and down the arch of his back, softly chuckling as you wait for his body to calm down, “Surprised you came that quickly.”
Miguel shivered as he tried to inhale, “Felt good.”
You snorted, “Yeah. I bet.” You waited a few more seconds, just to make sure he was fine before thinking of taking your finger out of his ass. Once you were sure of that, you started to move your finger—
You shoot a look at Miguel, brows raised as he clenched around your finger. He craned his neck back, arms to weak to support the weight of his body, “Don’t,” he cries, “Again. And please, add another finger.”
summary: sweet steven gets lost in the moment then apologies because he thinks he went too far...
cw: slight dacryphilia, degrading words, oral (m receiving), rough handling, soft aftercare/apologies, FLUFF (WHERE TF DID THAT COME FROM???)
a/n: i keep thinking ab this thot, but i never posted it as a fic so i have a hard time finding it lol. so im just gonna put it up for my own reasons...
masterlist
----
it took steven a few moments to get used to your touch again and though he protested, hips bucking with whines of overstimulation, he couldn't stop you from warming him in your mouth until he got hard again.
now, he is thoroughly using your mouth, pushing in harshly until your lips meet the base of his cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat. your eyes water as he continues to press in deep, tears glazing over your blown out pupils before they slide down your cheeks and onto his bare thighs.
he goes feral when he sees it, when he feels your warm tears pool on his sensitized skin. your dripping red eyes look up at him, begging for his praise, and he can't look away. your puffy lips are wrapped perfectly around him.
he uses both hands to hold your head steadily, fingers threading at the base of your hair as he snaps his hips against your face, fucking you harsh and deep like he would your cunt.
his eyes squeeze shut and brows cinch together as he feels your slick hot throat struggle to keep up with his pace. he loves the way you moan around him, how the vibrations travel from your throat to his cock, coaxing him to the edge in record time.
his movements stutter when you attempt to swallow around him, he wasn't prepared for how tight your throat would get. his hands fist tight at your hair to keep him from cumming too soon, desperately holding on to this feeling of pure ecstasy for as long as possible.
he's lost in pleasure when calls you needy and pathetic, his voice raspy and breathless, as if he isn't begging for it himself. he chides you for how desperately you need his cum to fill your throat, how greedy you are to suck him off right after he came.
he cums with a groan, holding you close so he can spill deep at the back of your throat. you swallow obediently, releasing his cock from your mouth with a sigh. you sniffle, still recovering from how rough he was being, not that you minded. you love when steven loses control. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, cum and saliva thickly coated over your lips and chin.
your jaw is supremely sore, not used sucking him off for more than one round, but the pain instantly subsides when you look at your ruined boyfriend heaving in front of you. he looks so ravaged with his flushed cheeks and fluffy hair. who knew a sweet, gentle man like steven could be so depraved?
his eyes barely flutter open when he hears you get up and place yourself on his lap. you cuddle against him, face smooshing against the crook of his neck. he hums, wrapping an arm around you, exhausted, but happy you're near.
he hears you sniffle again and pulls back from your body.
"darling, are you ok?" his eyes were gushing with concern as he attempted to wipe away any residual tears.
"yeah--" you croak out.
oh, you sound terrible. you try to clear your throat, wincing slightly when it elevates the soreness of your throat.
"i-i'm fine, steven." your voice wavers a little bit, but you still smile up at him.
steven looks at you like you're insane and he shakes his head, "i-i think i went to hard."
"n-no, i liked it!"
"sweetheart, i can barely hear what you're saying. i think i've messed up your throat!"
"steven, i wanted this." he doesn't look convinced, head tilted down in shame, so you continue, "and...it's kinda sexy don't you think? me, barely able to talk because you were fucking my throat?"
his hands squeeze your waist at your words.
"...sexy?"
"yeah. you were so rough with me today. it felt like you needed me." you grin, "like you really love me."
"i do, i-i really do love you." a blush blooms at the tops of his cheeks as he starts to gush at you, "i just-- you felt so good around me, your hot mouth and pretty lips, and i couldn't take it. i wanted more, anything you'd give me, and you did...you gave me everything."
you swoon at your boyfriend's admission, loving how honest he can be. "i love you too, baby." you lean in, lips brushing his, "and i'd do it again."
miguel accidentally overstimulating himself not realizing that his breeding kink kicked in 🤲🧎♀️
overstimulation with miguel o’hara ❤︎
— a/n: oh my
warnings ﾟ𐦍༘⋆: some vulgar language, mentions of having kids during sex
“Mi—Miguel,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, “‘s—‘s too much? Ah—are you oh—okay?”
You shudder in unison as he pumps another load of his cum into your drenched pussy.
“I’m fi—fine,” he stutters as his dick twitches. It hurts—he’s sensitive—but it’s not enough. He hasn’t given you enough.
A broken mewl escapes you as your head hits the headboard, Miguel tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from slipping off his cock as his hips stutter through his thrusts.
His visions blurs as you clench around his dick—he was surprised he was still able to move.
He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.
You’re both covered in sweat, and cum, and saliva. You feel hot, the silk bedsheets Miguel bought does nothing to cool you down, and your head is spinning. Your heart pounds in your chest as your body tenses—you were about to cum again, and your pussy wanted to cry.
“Miguel,” you whimper, “‘m close, Miguel, ‘m close,” you whine. His dick deliciously rubs against your walls as he sticks his thumb into your mouth—your head hits the headboard.
“I know mami—me too.” Your head hits the headboard again, “Gotta fill you up again, don’t you want that? Gonna make you feel good, I promise mami, I promise.”
“Mig—“ he pushes his thumb down on your tongue.
“‘m gonna make you feel so good, mami,” he starts to babble, “Gonna feel so good.”
Somehow every movement he made was even more intense, you could feel every vein, every twitch, every—everything. He became more precise, every thrust ended with him hitting your g—spot, you were never sure if that was going to be the moment you came.
“Miguel—,” you babble, sucking his thumb. “‘m gonna cum, right there Miguel, I’m gonna—“
His thrusts became erratic, the feeling of your warm pussy engrains itself in his memory.
He’d definitely be going back to this memory.
“Wait for me mami, I’m almost there too,” he grabs one of your hands, bringing it close to his mouth, and he presses his lips against your wrist. “Gonna make you a mother, yeah?”
You bite his thumb.
He presses a hand against your stomach as the bed creaks, “Make me a father?”
His hips stutter as you moan around his thumb.
You avoid eye contact as he leans over you, the pure devotion in his eyes makes you feel tingles in your stomach—and make you feel even more of that in your pussy.
“Look at me when you come mami, pl—please. Need you too.”
You didn’t expect it to happen that quickly when you looked at him.
Miguel looks down at you with lust blown eyes, his hair drops down from his face, and his mouth hangs open—the hand holding your wrist shaking. He slowly thrusts into you as he came inside you—your own cum mixed with his leaking around his dick.
His chest goes up and down as he heavily breathes—fuck was he beautiful as always.
He dips his head pressing a quick sloppy kiss onto your lips, “You’re leaking.”
You laugh, “It’s your fault.”
You expect him to laugh, to take it as a joke and then pick you up to go take a relaxing bath and cuddle for the rest of night—but he doesn’t.
“Oh,” he purrs, “Well, I should fix my mistake, shouldn’t I?”
He drops your wrist and focuses on your left boob, he pinches your nipple—you moan softly.
You wince in unison when he starts to move his hips again, his free hand trailing down to your waist from your stomach, “Ha—have to make sure none of my cum goes to waste, right mami? Can’t risk you not getting pregnant.”
Tears weld in his eyes, your pussy hurts as you pulse around him. He lets out a weak breath, “You want me to cum in you again, right?”
Your head hits the headboard once more as he thrusts get stronger.
It hurts, you’re too sensitive, and you’re positive he is too—yet he’s right. You do want that, you want him.
I have a request for Astarion ! What if reader is usually the one being seduced by Astarion (because that's how he is) but reader one day does the very chivalrous hand kissing to Astarion after maybe protecting him from an enemy?
Rizz if you will.
It's Called Chivalry, Darling
pairing : astarion x (gn) reader
summary : astarion makes a point to be chivalrous so you return the favour to distract him from being worried.
warnings :talk about weapons and fighting, reader gets hurt.
a/n: thanks sm for your request :). i tried my hardest to execute this idea, i hope you like it anon :0 (i have not played baldurs gate)
“I think we could stock up there. ” You point to a row of buildings, signs practically unreadable, grabbing the attention of the others in your group. They all hum in agreement before heading off in their own directions. The only store you assume you’ll be needing is a general store, so you head in that direction.
You reach for the handle but someone else's hand beats you to it, pulling it open for you. Turning to look, you make eye contact with the ever handsome Astarion, smirk tugging at his lips.
“Why’re you opening the door for me? What do you want?” You point an accusatory finger in his face, causing him to chuckle. His laugh is so soft it almost makes you drop your finger.
“It’s called chivalry, my dear. You aren’t familiar?” He follows behind you as you enter the store, rolling your eyes at him. The store is mostly empty, besides a few men looking through the wares available. But even with all the open space for him to walk, Astarion seems to tail you as if the store is crowded.
“Ooh get some more of that stuff, remember you used it on me? It made that cut on my arm feel like nothing.” He points from behind you at a healing balm in a small, glass jar. You stop in your tracks to grab it, causing Astarion to push into your back, and you look back at him with a confused stare.
“Why’d you stop? ” His brows are furrowed, face close to yours.
“Why are you walking so close to me?”
“I just can’t stand to be far from you, my love,” He places his hand on his chest dramatically, voice incredibly theatrical as if he wasn’t already dramatic enough. You're sure that people in the store are shooting glances your way but, unusually, you can't bring yourself to care.
Not when Astarion is looking down at you with playful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He looks so sweet like this, so free of worry and attitude, his guard is down. But you can't let him realize your thoughts, so before he could even notice your staring you force your face to remain as stoic as before.
You once again roll your eyes then continue your search for anything the group may need. Once you finish you head towards the door, making a point to open the door for yourself which causes Astarion to grunt in disapproval.
The group finds each other once more and you head out of town, fully prepared for what might be ahead. At least that's what you think, maybe a stupid thought considering you're never truly safe on this perilous journey.
As you travel along the trail, your group seems to split off into its own smaller groups. Whispering and laughing with eachother, making far too much noise in your opinion. And Astarion, slowly trickling from the front all the way to the back where you're walking, finds his place beside you.
“Why do you always walk so far towards the back? That’s a dangerous position for someone as small as you, no one to keep you safe from behind.” He chuckles to himself as he notices your brows furrow.
“There’s nobody to annoy me either.” His hand flys to his chest, pretending to be hurt once more, his pace faltering ever so slightly then catching up with you again.
“Ouch. How you wound me so with your cold words darling.”
“Astarion, if you wish to accompany me in the back I’d appreciate if..” Your sentence is cut off with a yelp of surprise as you trip over a dip in the road, stumbling forwards. But you don’t fall very far, Astarion’s hand gripping onto your wrist and pulling you towards him. Your chest hits his, and you take a moment to regain your bearings before taking a step away from him.
He raises your hand, still in his grip, up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles, “You must be more careful, darling. Don’t want you getting hurt.”
You know your face is pink, you can feel it, and the smirk on his face solidifies your worry, but you remain composed and give him a simple nod as you pull your hand away.
“Shall I hold your hand to ensure you don’t trip again?”
“In your dreams, fangs.” He smiles, it's always so soft during these moments, and the sight alone almost causes you to take back your words and give in to his offer, but you stand your ground and keep your hands close to your hips. Astarion lets out a small laugh at this.
You continue to walk in peaceful silence, Astarion making small quips so the air is never truly silent around you. You've come to realize that Astarion can't stand silence whenever he's around you, and he makes a point to keep the noise level up. But when his tone shifts, and he becomes quieter, you take a peak around. You notice that the group is much closer than before but you don’t mind. Safety in numbers and what not.
But something feels off. It’s eerily quiet. Not even the whistle of a bird and you swear the wind has stopped entirely. And you think the rest of your group notices as well, perhaps the reason that they had moved closer was so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Their hands stay on their weapons ready to take them out.
And then it happens. A group of goblins jump from the surrounding forest and circle around your party. Usually something as small a threat as a goblin would be no problem but in such large numbers they might prove to be a problem. When they initiate a fight, thrusting their blades towards you, you draw your blade.
Slowly, you pick off goblins, one by one. They’re stronger than you expected and their weapons are much nicer than the ones you had encountered in the past. But you keep your guard up and they’re unable to land a blow on you. It’s when the amount of goblins in front of you is reduced that your guard is let down even the slightest. And your focus shifts. Not the smartest move.
You look around you, realizing that Astarion is no longer by your side.
In your state of distraction, a goblin is able to strike you, leaving a relatively large cut on your arms and cutting the arm of your shirt into a tattered piece. The pain causes you to refocus for a moment, just enough to kill the goblin before you look back towards Astarion.
When your eyes reach his position, your heart drops to your stomach. He is completely surrounded and you're certain that he is unaware just how shitty his situation is. So without a second thought, you leave the goblins in front of you behind, and rush over to him.
Swinging your blade with as much force as you can muster, you kill the goblins behind him and grab his wrist to pull him out of his unfortunate position. You kill another, after ensuring he is no longer in the way. The two of you pick the goblins off together, standing back to back. And when the fight is over you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe.
But it doesn’t last long.
Astarion pushes at your shoulder, causing you to stumble forward, you hardly catch yourself but you do. When you’ve found your footing you straighten up, turning to him with furrowed brows, “What was that for?”
“Why would you do that?” His tone is so aggressive it catches you off guard, “You could’ve gotten hurt! How could you be so irresponsible? Look at your arm, Gods!"
He holds your arm in his hands, hesitating for a moment before ripping off a piece of his own shirt. Gently, he pushes the arm of your shirt up to uncover your wound and begins to wrap the piece of cloth around the wound with shaky fingers, muttering curse words under his breath.
“You could’ve been killed Astarion! I would’ve gladly gotten hurt in order to prevent that.” You try to keep your cool. The pain is hardly noticeable with the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. And you honestly find yourself more worried about him being angry with you Obviously, he’s yelling in your face, but it might just be shock getting to him.
“Why would you do that for me? That is absolutely ridiculous.” He huffs, throwing his hands in the air, then allows them to fall back down to his sides. And an idea suddenly enters you brain.
Slowly, with caution to not annoy him further, you reach for his still shaky hand. He stares at you, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t pull away. Gently, you place your lips against his bloodied knuckles, making an effort not to hurt his already irritated skin.
“It’s called chivalry, Astarion. You aren’t familiar?” You notice the smallest change in his eyes as they soften, even a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He isn’t mad, just worried. And you know that all the annoyance has fled his body at your attempt to make fun of him and his flirtatious remarks. Honestly, he's a little flattered you remember what he said, and flustered from you playing his own game against him.
You take a step closer, placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him in closer, to plant a soft kiss to his cheekbone. His curls touch your fingertips, and you take the opportunity to play with his soft hair for a moment. When you pull away, a pink tint lingers on his skin, allowing color to flow on his beautiful face. “You know I don’t want you getting hurt.”
This time he lets out a soft laugh, “That’s enough, darling. I understand what you’re doing, you can stop mocking me.” He turns away from you, but you rush to his side, wrapping your hands around his arms. You lean into him, resting your head near his shoulder as you look up at him.
“Shall I hold onto you so you don’t trip, my dear?” You mock his usual flirty tone, and he pushes your head away gently in an attempt to hide the color rushing to his face, ruffling your hair up.
“What, I'm not allowed to flirt with you but you can do it to me?”
I got logged out of this account and I couldn’t for the life of me remember what my password was—BUT I FIGURED IT OUT! So sorry about kinktober my loves, still deciding if I’ll post the rest
