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#but then i was praying when i got home before bed and was talking to the Holy Spirit and He was like you could have a relationship w/ this
tonycries · 2 days
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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
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“You’ve never what?”  
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh. 
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?” 
Shit. 
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click! 
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah. 
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl. 
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
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A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
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avatardoggo · 7 months
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when you meet a Guy and he is 99.9% perfection but the Holy Spirit says no
#i don’t like like guys often (my last crush was high school) so when i do i just 😳 get a lil fluttered#soo when i met this guy the first time i was like o he’s cute and sweet and just easy to talk to and i was like if i allowed myself j could#let myself like him but then i didn’t see him for a while kinda forgot about him one of my friends is close with him so id see him on his i#story a lot this summer and it was like oh ya he’s cute whatever#but last saturday i saw his at this lil party and omgoodness he’s so cute in person#and GUYS!! MUTUALS MY BELOVED 😭🥹🫠🤭😫 HE TAUGHT ME HKW TO PLAY POOL AND HE WAS TOUCHING MY HAND AKSKDKJDKDKFKFJJFJFF#and there was a lot of casual touching and stuff omgoodness and he was buying everyone soda and stuff and he smelt sooo good#and tHEN AT THE END OF THE NIGHT I GAVE HIM MY SNAP#but then i was praying when i got home before bed and was talking to the Holy Spirit and He was like you could have a relationship w/ this#person and everything would be great physically and emotionally but you will suffer spirtiually and then i started thinking about the progr#ss i've made this summer w/ my relationship w/ God and ya it's definitely not worth it i wouldn't trade Jesus for anything or one#soo now i have to kill the streak i have with him on snap bc it's just not wise to be talking back and forth yk? and if God says so i gotta#do it#ig it's hard cause it's nice being liked liking someone who likes you but God knows better than me soooooo pay ya girl listens and has#and i was talking to my friend who knows him better than me and she was like ya he's such a sweet kind funny guy but he doesn't have a rela#ionship w/ God as far as she knows sooo#the strength to withstand 😭#vk overshares in the tags
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alwaysshallow · 3 months
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Hello!! This is my first ever req, and I was just wondering how Ghost would react to the reader wearing pheromone perfume. Like she just gets bored and decides to wear some, and it gets him all riled up.
oh, he'd be absolutely feral.
see, the thing is: simon isn't home much. he's needed in the task force 141 more often than not, and that's okay—you were aware of his job before the two of you got together. but, when he comes back, he's the clingiest man possible.
of course, clingy his way. he's a terrible cook, but he observes how you do it; from distance, or he has his hands under your shirt, kneading your skin.
mornings in bed? more like days in bed, only getting up to eat something, work out or fuck you in other place. if you have a job, you needed to call in sick a few times, but it feels like a small price for spending it with simon.
considering all of the above, how he loves to be around you after being deployed, you can't really be surprised how the pheromone perfume works on him. first, he's more confused than anything, when you talk to him—completely forgetting that you put it on.
the realization hits you the moment he starts biting your earlobe, several times. too handsy, he doesn't even want to shower first, like he always does. before you know it, he tosses you over his shoulder and goes to the bedroom.
"simon, dinner is burning—"
"—i don't care," he practically growls.
your suggestion for him to hop into the shower ends up in biting your ass (you pray that it won't make a bruise) and a bathroom fuck in a tub. long one, edging both of you.
simon is way more talkative than usual. he tells you what he's gonna do in the future, how he's gonna wife you up and that maybe you two should think of the kids since he's gonna be around more. how he could buy a house for the two of you.
apparently, a pheromone perfume has interesting effect on him.
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steventhusiast · 5 months
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STWG daily prompt 3/12/23
prompt: "what the hell happened to you?"
pairing/character(s): steddie
-
Eddie hasn't heard from Steve for forty eight hours when the phone rings, and he jumps for it. He hopes (and maybe prays to the god he doesn't believe in) that it's Steve. That he just... Fell asleep when he got home from his shift at Scoops and that's why he didn't call when he got home two days ago. That he got distracted by the kids the next morning and that's why he didn't call Eddie one day ago.
"Hello?" He says into the phone, trying not to sound too frantic.
But as soon as he finds out who's calling, a rock settles in his stomach.
"This is Hawkins General Hospital, am I speaking with Wayne Munson?"
He's silent for a moment. Fuck. Something's happened to Steve. He debates lying, because Wayne left for work literally five minutes ago, and he needs to know what happened, and what if Steve's dead?-
"No. This is Eddie Munson, ma'am, Wayne just left for work. Is- Is everything okay?" He closes his eyes as he speaks, tips his head forward to lightly bang it against the wall of the trailer. Why didn't he just lie? Now they're never going to tell him.
"Alright, one moment.." The lady on the phone says, and Eddie hears some papers rustling and then a sigh, "Oh, Edward Munson?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You're listed as another emergency contact, so I can tell you this as well." Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief, but feels tears start to well up as he imagines what she's about to say.
"This is in regards to Steven Harrington, who is alive and stable but quite badly injured. That's all I can say over the phone. Before he can be discharged, if his next of kin don't respond, we'll need to talk through patient care with you or Wayne Munson, alright?"
"Yes I- He can have visitors, right?" He's already looking frantically around the room to see where the keys to his van are.
"Yes. Visiting hours don't end for another two hours yet."
Eddie's never hung up a phone so fast.
-
When he finally gets to Steve's room (after an argument with the receptionist who was hesitant to give him the room number), he practically throws open the door in his haste, and is... Surprised at the amount of people in the room.
He's zeroed in on Steve before he properly registers them though. As soon as he processes the state of his boyfriend, everyone else in the room practically disappear from his mind.
"Oh, Stevie." He whispers, walking over to the bed.
Steve seems to be either asleep or passed out, and he looks.. Horrible. One eye is swollen shut, there's a bandage over his nose like it's broken, and his bottom lip is swollen with a (freshly stitched up) wound trailing down from it an inch or so. And that's just his face-- Eddie can't even see the rest of him right now.
"What the hell happened to you?" He mumbles to himself, hesitantly reaching out to rest a hand on Steve's forearm.
It's then that he's rudely reminded of the presence of others in the room.
"More like what the hell is Eddie Munson doing in Steve Harrington's hospital room?" A familiar voice asks, and he turns to see Robin Buckley sat at Steve's side. A little more turning around and he sees Dustin, who he recognises from pictures, and a little girl who can't be older than ten.
Robin looks confused and suspicious, and like she's about to interrogate him until she sees the genuine distress (and tears) in his eyes. She softens a little, and lets Eddie ask what he's been dying to ask for over forty eight hours now.
"Is he okay?" He sniffles harshly in attempt to get rid of the waver in his voice.
"He will be. Pretty bad concussion though, and- No, wait. Seriously, why are you here?"
Eddie's about to make something up, when Steve rouses with a groan. Everyone's quiet as he squints open his good eye and groans some more at the lights.
"Wha's- Wha's goin' on?" He slurs, and Eddie feels the tears return. Steve sounds as fucked up as he looks, and- shit, Robin said concussion? Steve's already had one too many of those.
"Hey, it's okay Stevie. You know where you are?" Eddie asks gently, opting to ignore everyone else once again if they're going to stay quiet.
"Eds?" Steve's face scrunches up in a way that looks painful, and he slowly looks over in Eddie's direction with eyes that are definitely too dilated.
Eddie starts rubbing his thumb back and forth where he's still gently resting a hand on Steve's forearm. He hopes it's comforting rather than adding to Steve's pain.
"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."
read part 2 here
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phfenomena · 4 months
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❝sleeping alone ❞ || william h. bonney x f!reader
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| A/N- was listening to flatland cavalry and i couldn’t resist a short n sad fic abt billy bc i’m evil
| WARNINGS- a sad man who misses his girlfriend a verrrryyy small mention of death and war.
william h. bonney x reader angst? fluff?
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as billy lays alone in the hostel bed he quickly begins to regret agreeing to jesse’s proposal of this job in lincoln county. he’s almost a days ride away from you and he has no idea if you’re okay. he can’t believe he used to sleep like this every night, no one to hold.
his mind wanders to the prayers his mother used to lay over him and joe, before everything turned sour in his life. he can’t remember the last time he prayed, feeling like no one’s listening. he doesn’t need a god when he has you, but he doesn’t have you right now.
he clasps his hands together just like he did all those years ago. “i haven’t done in this in quite some time, sorry if it’s not uniform prayer. i just want my girl to be okay without me, and for her to healthy and safe. oh! and for me not to get shot. amen.” he suddenly feels very stupid and confused as to why he thought his words into the empty air would assist him at all, but anything’s worth a shot. especially when it comes to his girl.
he rolls onto his side, just like he does every night with you. he holds a pillow to front pretending it was you instead a bag of feathers. he never realized how warm you were until he couldn’t feel your warmth at all. his eyes drift close and he falls asleep to memories of you.
eight hours away by horse, you lay alone in your shared bed with billy. only it’s not shared for a while, it’s just your bed. he’s working, he loves working! you thought trying to make yourself feel better about being by your lonesome. the bed feels like it’s miles long with just your body inhabiting it. you stare at the stationary sitting on your desk, illuminated poorly with one candle.
you write slowly and methodically to billy. he won’t be home for months so you figured you’d might as well start the letters. you write paragraphs upon paragraphs of how much you miss him, how much you love him, and how quiet the night is without his laughs filling the air. you trail off and start telling him about the town gossip you’ve heard but eventually get back on track. spraying your perfume over the pages and an invisible kiss by your signature, you fold it up and press the wax to seal it.
billy and jesse walk back in the saloon below the hostel’s doors. “oh! mr. billy you’ve got a letter! from a lady” the young boy wiggles his eyebrows and hands the letter to billy. he tries to fight the smile but jesse pats his back, rather hard but a kind gesture nonetheless. “the girl of yours is already sending letters after a day? you’ve got her wrapped around her finger.” billy shakes his head laughing. “that’s where you’re wrong, it’s the complete opposite.” he confesses and walks up the stairs to read your letter in private.
he instantly notices the scent of your perfume and all of the tension in his body melts away. he’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s reading but holds your letter to his chest after. he walks over to his own desk and begins his own letter to you, he might not see you for months but he’ll be damned if he can’t talk to his girl.
he consistently writes to you and letting you know what’s going on and how stressful things have gotten. you’re proud of him for switching to tunstall’s side because it was the right thing to do, you’ll always admire that about him. the worry for his well-being overtakes the admiration as you quickly gather your necessities and get dressed. you’re out the door and mounting your horse within the hour, riding to lincoln. you’d rather walk to hell and back than not see billy before he gets hurt.
you reach lincoln county much faster than you expected, maybe your horse sensed the desperation leaking from your pores. you ask a kind-eyed woman about tunstall and she directs you a few minutes north. you thank her make your way slowly to your destination. as your eyes focus on the beautiful country home in the dark, your heart flutters. you almost feel sick with how anxious you are, your eyes haven’t laid on billy in three months.
you quickly tie your horse to a fence post and rush towards the door, knocking rapidly. an unfamiliar man opens the door and smiles at you. “how can i help you, madam?” he speaks confidently with a british accent, this must be tunstall. “oh well, um, i was just wondering if billy was here?” he snaps his fingers and turns his head to yell for billy.
billy’s stomach dropped upon hearing his name being called, he’s thinking it might be jesse trying to pick a fight but when his eyes settle upon you his world stops. everything slows down but his heart speeds up to impossible levels. he smiles wide and laughs while running to you. his arms envelope you and you’re drowning in his scent, squeezing so hard he thought you might’ve bruised a rib. “what’re you doin’ here, doll? did you ride here alone? do you know how dangerous that is? have you ate? are you okay?” you giggle at his ambush of worried questions and put your hand over his mouth. tunstall walks away with a grin, never seeing billy so happy.
“yes i rode alone, yes i know the dangers, no i haven’t ate yet, and yes i am okay. i just couldn’t take the thought of you being so stressed with the possibility of getting hurt without me here. i also figured it was due time for a visit.” you mutter softly, never taking your eyes off him. drinking in the sights of the man you love with every fiber of your being.
he quickly ushers you inside and guides you to a main room. “gentleman, this is my girl.” he introduces you and you smile and manage a slight wave. “this the girl you’re always talking about and never shutting up about how pretty she is?” billy goes slightly red and opens his mouth up to talk before closing it. just nodding at the embarrassment. you smile up at him “you tell people how pretty you think i am? you’re so sweet! that’s adorable.” billy sighs and leads you to a seat at the table and fixing you a plate for dinner.
as you both lay together that night in the same bed, everything makes sense in the world. you understand war, they just want this feeling to be safe. your eyes begin to fill with tears as you’re just so relieved and happy to be with your love again.
“i was gettin’ real tired of sleeping alone. considered climbing into bed with charlie but i don’t think he’s as warm as you.” you laugh and gently slap his chest.
all is right in the world, because your world is filled with love.
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moralesmilesanhour · 8 months
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Could you maybe write something with Miles G. where the reader is kind of shy? Like they go to her house and room for the first time and the reader is nervous about it?
Your house was across the street from the basketball court where Miles first saw you.
When the court was empty, you liked to sit on a bench and doodle in an old composition notebook. No one could look over your shoulder here.
Miles had had a game coming up and felt that his shooting accuracy had been off lately, so he stopped here after school to get in some extra practice. You tensed when you heard his sneakers approaching the entrance, keeping your eyes down and praying that he wouldn't make you leave.
He walked right past you and said nothing.
Only the sound of his footsteps and the basketball he was carrying bouncing across the asphalt could be heard for the entire time he was there until he left.
At some point, Miles came to the same conclusion you did previously and started practicing around the same time every day. You drew, he hooped, the two of you left without a word. A careful routine.
Occasionally, you held your breath and dared to look up to watch him play. Miles' long cornrows brushed his shoulders and flew behind him with every shot, you noticed with amusement. It wasn't long before he made a few appearances in your notebook.
You looked up from your doodling one day and noticed him glancing in your direction. He made another shot, then did it again. And again. After a particularly smooth lay-up, Miles looked back with a grin playing on his face. Once it dawned on you that he was making direct eye-contact, you didn't know what else to do other than smile back.
"You don't talk much, do you?" He would ask you while leaving the court together just before curfew.
"I guess not," you responded in a near whisper.
Miles looked up in thought, then nodded.
"That's alright. Means you think a lot."
Smiles soon turned into winks which turned into short conversations and banter, and now you were both standing in front of the door to your room.
"You gonna go inside?" Miles asked when you hesitantly placed a hand on the doorknob.
"Y-yeah, we could go in."
"I think you need to open the door for that."
"...Right."
With a deep breath, you turned the knob.
The door opened up to a small bedroom with lopsided blinds only up halfway. You winced at the small pile of clothes you had left sitting on a swivel chair as you passed it. What a relief that you hadn't forgotten to make your bed this morning like you usually do.
Miles kicked his sneakers off at the entrance before following behind you. The way he scanned the room made you shift uncomfortably. Suddenly you noticed all of the tiny cracks in the ceiling and blemishes on the walls.
"Cool lights," he remarked, referring to the repurposed Christmas lights strung across your walls.
You relaxed a bit, and grabbed a tiny remote that had been sitting on your desk with an awkward smile. "I can turn them on if you want. They've got a buncha different patterns."
"Knock yourself out. Can I sit?"
"Sure."
You joined him on your bed as you pressed a button on the remote that caused the string lights to twinkle softly. They added a cozy contrast to the harsh neon lights from the towering skyscrapers outside that were visible from your window. It almost felt like a separate world.
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, entranced by the different patterns blinking above you. It might've been the closest you would ever get to seeing fireworks up close.
"Sorry I don't have any games or anything," you spoke up suddenly. "You must be bored."
Miles turned to face you, closer than he had ever been before today. Close enough for you to realize that his right eye wasn't the same hazel brown as the left, but rather a warm green. He tilted his head quizzically.
"If I was bored, I'd be at home right now."
"But we haven't said anything in like, twenty minutes," you started to laugh.
"You think I like you for bein' a chatterbox?" he parried back.
You shrugged, then leaned your head on his shoulder. "Fair enough."
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deonsx · 1 month
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If You Cry While Making Love With Them
Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor
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Content: Smut, Nsfw
Dazai Osamu
You had returned from a very tiring day at work and your lover was in a dark mood throughout the day. Every time you looked at him, he seemed focused on his work with his eyebrows furrowed. 'Don't we ever have a quiet day?' You thought, but you didn't ask anything so as not to upset him. You hoped that he would calm down when you got home, but the same mood got even harsher at home, he wasn't talking at all and the seriousness on his face never left
You never disturbed her, but when it was midnight, she was still sitting on the couch and not coming to bed. You waited for her for a while, but then you couldn't help but went to her. She was still the same as you left her. The brunette's eyes were staring at closed tv, "Osamu??" you called out to her and slowly her eyes turned to you but she waited for a while before answering "Are you asleep yet bella?" The eyes looked blank, but he did not forget to ask you in a voice that would warm his heart. You slowly approached him and held his hands, "You are very tired today, let's sleep together, my love."
"I'm sorry, but I'll stay on my own for a while, my love." Your memories after he said this sentence are blurry, but you whispered love sentences to him and gave him a nice night because you wanted to make him happy, but the night was not as full of love as you thought.. Dazai was very rough during sex, more than ever before. he was rude "Ngh!!..osamu!! slow down...!" No matter how many times you told him, he didn't care, but now you were in pain rather than pleasure and you couldn't hold back the tears in your eyes
When you saw your lover stopping quickly, you wanted to pull yourself together, but you didn't even have the strength to move. An anxious tone of voice filled your ears. "Was it too much love...sshhh my love.." he slowly wiped the tears from your eyes and kissed all over your face and pulled you into his lap, making you lose the coldness. "I'm so sorry.. That wasn't my intention... Today was a bad day.. I lost myself." You slowly buried your head in Dazai's neck and inhaled his scent. The pain of your life slowly disappeared with his loving words "What happened today, Osamu...?" you asked as you slowly exhaled into the cold air that filled the room but he only gave tiny kisses to your hair "Don't worry my love...the only thing that matters right now is you”
Chuuya Nakahara
That day was a day when even the weather was really bad. While your boyfriend was at work, you were preparing dinner for the two of you at home. You sent a lot of messages to your boyfriend, but he didn't answer any of them, but it wasn't that unusual, after all, he was an assassin, and sometimes, no matter how worried you were about him, you were better off praying for him. You can't do anything else, finally the man of the night came and Chuuya, who normally rings the bell, must have preferred to open the door with the key, you didn't even hear him coming. When you heard him say "I'm home", you wanted to look at him, but he quickly went to your bedroom and closed the door
But you still didn't care and quickly knocked on your boyfriend's door. "My love! I prepared the dinner, I'm waiting for you." There was no sound from inside.. "Chuuya?" When there was no sound from inside, you opened the door and found your boyfriend exhausted and lost in thought in the corner of the bed. His orange hair covered his eyes. You slowly approached him and sat next to him, brushing that beautiful hair from his eyes. "Are you okay?" You reached out to her hand with one hand and caressed it. he turned towards you with a deep breath. "Leave me alone s/o..”
You didn't want to leave him alone, on the contrary, you wanted to make him happy and make him forget all his bad night, so you slowly unbuttoned his shirt and sat on his lap "My love.. relax.. you are tired enough" While you were giving him gentle kisses, he took off your clothes with his hands and quickly put your bra in a corner. "You so insatiable today..Chuuya-san," your voice trembled as you gripped his orange hair.
After undressing you completely, he slowly laid you down on the bed and got on top of you and left a lot of marks on your skin, his face was very serious, his mind looked blurry and without waiting for you to relax, he pushed his dick inside you, which made you scream because it hurt so much "Chuuya..! it hurts, wait...!" He was ignoring you as if he was under the influence of some kind of trance, his thrusts continued rapidly and non-stop and this suddenly hurt you so much your eyes quickly filled with tears
Chuuya quickly turned his eyes to you, quickly tried to grasp the seriousness of the situation with his eyes, and then stopped quickly "S/o.." he quickly stood up and then picked you up and took you to the bathroom "I...I don't know what I'm doing I was so confused" he slowly filled the tub with hot water and he placed kisses on your hair "I'm sorry my love..." you rested your head on his neck and let the hot water flow down your body "Please forgive me..I wasn't in the right mind, beautiful"
Fyodor Dostoyevski
You felt like you were in heaven as his lips slid across your skin. My eyes rolled to the back of your head. You couldn't stop the moans escaping from your mouth as he quickly ate you away. Your heart was beating so fast that it stopped "F-fyodor!...Fuck!" your hands gripped the sheets and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to bury your head in the pillow, feeling the knot in your stomach quickly close to breaking. "I-I.." you stammered, "Go on, dear.. I can't get enough of the taste yet"
While swallowing your pleasure juices quickly, he squinted his eyes and grabbed you by the waist and put you in doggy position. "Tonight is going to be a long night, my love... it would be better for you if you prepare yourself" Your first tour, your second tour, your third tour, you were still continuing to fuck, it was starting to hurt.. you felt a hard time. You felt in this situation. Normally you would tell this to your boyfriend and he would stop, but it was the first time you spent such a pleasure-filled evening with him and the compliments he told you were like melody in your ears
It felt unbearable now and it made you scream and cry from the pain. "Honey?? Are you okay? Don't be hard on yourself, my love” He kissed your eyes and wiped your tears and pulled you into his lap. You closed your eyes on his cold white skin and fainted right there. 'Was I too weak?' You thought, and when you came to your senses after 1-2 hours, you were lying on your bed in your nightgown. My eyes widened when I saw your boyfriend Fyodor on top of you "My love?? I..." his icy fingers tangled in your hair "Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me...? "
You felt empty and closed your silence, but you felt as if his purple eyes were looking into your soul "I can't let anyone, including me, hurt you or upset you. You should know this best" As you buried your head deeper into the pillow, his voice was more muffled in your ears. You held his hands and pulled him to the bed. "In your lap I want to sleep" He smiled and laid down next to you and hugged you "You are the only person in this world that I care about, my dear"
This was actually a request!!! but since I accidentally sent it after drafting it, I deleted the post and then the request disappeared. I hope the person who wrote this request sees this!!!
We are 700 people!! I will return to my activity as soon as possible, I love you!! I will do your wishes!
Enjoy!
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sturniololoco · 2 months
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this might sound weird but her me out.
could you do one where like reader is matt(or chris’s) gf but the boys have a younger sister (like sls) and when the sister goes to stay with the boys her favourite is always gf and she tells all her troubles and feelings to her when she’s missing her mom and dad
i completely understand if this doesn’t make sense but the idea came to me randomly xx
Home Sick
Matt Sturniolo x fem! Reader
Warnings: kissing, cuddling, crying, home sickness, etc.
⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙
Y/N’s POV
My boyfriend, Matt, has been on the phone with his little sister the entire way to the airport.
This is her first time flying by herself and she just got off the plane so Matt is trying to walk her through it.
Chris and Nick have been talking excitedly about the plans they have made for her while they got their vlog camera ready.
I however, was nurvously picking at my nails, wondering what their sister will be like.
Will she like me?
I was pulled from my thoughts as I felt a hand on my thigh.
“Stop worrying baby. It’s gonna be fine.” He says in a low tone.
I smile and hold his hand, praying that he’s right.
-
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as cute as Matt’s little sister sprinting into his outstretched arms.
Normally, he would call this cringy behavior, but I know he's so happy to see her, that he secretly enjoys it.
She does the same to Chris and Nick, somehow showing all of her love for them in one tight squeeze.
Then she came over to me.
I was shocked when she wrapped her small frame around me, hugging me tight.
I looked up at Matt, giving him the Are you seeing how cute this is? look.
He smiles back at me proudly while grabbing his little sister's bags.
Pulling away, but still holding my hand, she pulls me with her to the car behind her brothers.
-
To celebrate the little sister's safe journey across the country, we indulged in a pizza movie night for the occasion.
I was snuggled into Matt's side on the end of the couch, and both of us snuggled into a blanket while we held hands.
Matt's sister was on his right, leaning into Chris on her other side.
It was safe to say that the siblings had a very close relationship, just judging by how they cuddled close together on the couch.
-
At the end of the movie, Nick stood grabbed our plates, and started to clean up. Just as Matt and I were about to do the same, Chris began tickling his little sister with no mercy.
Matt was quick to join in, the trio laughing as her brothers held her down.
Once they gave in, she was half upside down and breathing heavily, smacking her brothers on the leg as they walked away to go and help Nick.
"You ready for bed, baby?" Matt asked me, seeing me yawn from m spot on the island.
I nodded and stood, giving everyone a quick goodnight hug.
But as I went to see their little sister, she was fast asleep in her spot on the couch.
Smiling lightly to myself, I called Chris over.
"You might wanna move her before she gets too comfy." I laughed as he scooped her up into his arms and whisked her off to bed.
I wasn't far behind, only I followed Matt, snuggling into his warmth as we lay down in his bed.
-
Who knew a light coming all the way from downstairs could be so annoying.
It was the middle of the night and got up to pee, but haven't been able to fall back into my slumber thanks to the obnoxious LED light coming from the kitchen.
Giving up on any more rest, I kept out of the room and made my way down the stairs, to be met with a sight I was not expecting.
The Sturniolo sister was there, scrolling on her phone as tears poured from her eyes onto her cheeks.
I hesitantly sat next to her, and when she tried to stop her tears, I pulled her in for a hug, only making her sob harder.
"What's wrong sweetheart? Do you need me to go get Matt?" I asked, rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe her.
She shook her head no and calmed herself, taking in a deep breath before saying,
"I just miss my brothers being at home so much. But I also miss not being with my mom and dad. I wish they could just come home with me." She said, sheepishly.
I gave her a sympathetic smile.
"Your brothers talk about you every day. They miss you just as much, but that's what makes these visits so special. You get to spend special time together." I said.
this seemed to cheer her up slightly. She sighed and smiled before leaning in and giving me a tight hug.
"Thank you," she mumbles into my shoulder.
"Any time kiddo. I'm always here, just as much as your brothers."
I feel so bad, this was so rushed! Lemme know if you want me to add more or redo it, or just do something simular. <3
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fettuccin-e · 3 months
Text
Flying to New Heights
Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.
A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)
Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)
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You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.
You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues. 
It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.
That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.
There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.
There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.
A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.
“Can’t sleep?”
The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.
Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight. 
You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales. 
The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.
But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-
“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.
He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”
“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”
“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.
“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink. 
“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.
“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes. 
“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.
“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”
“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”
“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”
He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”
“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.
He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”
“Frankie, sorry.”
“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.
“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.
“Practice saying my name.”
A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”
He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.
Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.
Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.
“You sure about that, hermosa?”
You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.
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Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.
But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.
He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.
You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.
It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this. 
“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-
The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you. 
“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle. 
“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.
He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?
Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.
As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair. 
“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer. 
“Frankie, please,” you breathe.
He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need. 
“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.
“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.
The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.
“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing. 
“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are. 
His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.
Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.
“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.
He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.
His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.
“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”
And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.
“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body. 
“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”
“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”
“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”
You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-
“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”
You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.
“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does. 
When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper. 
“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.
“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes. 
“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.
“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”
“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”
Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.
The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.
“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.
Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.
“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”
“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.
“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.
“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”
And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.
“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.
“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.
His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.
Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow. 
“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.
“Fucking amazing.”
You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”
He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful. 
Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.
“I’m usually not.”
“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.
You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”
You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
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milswrites · 3 months
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Hobbies Part 1. ~ Azriel X Reader
Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?
Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader
Series masterlist
Warnings: Sad Az. Angst
Azriel was bored.
It had only been a week since Rhys had sent him to stay in a flat he had borrowed from Helion in the Day Court with the excuse that he had worked so hard all these years and deserved to take a break.
Azriel saw right through him. It wasn’t long ago that Rhys had pulled him aside and banned him from seeing Elain. And so Rhysand wasn’t too pleased when barely a month later he had caught Azriel and Elain on a walk together along the streets of Velaris. Always one to overreact, it was safe to say that Rhys wasn’t too happy and a week later he had taken Azriel to the Day Court, walked him into the flat he’s currently been sulking in for the past few days and winnowed away.
Azriel wasn’t a fool, he knew Rhys had asked Helion to keep an eye on him during his stay, his shadows reporting back to him that people were watching the flat, no doubt reporting back that he hadn’t left. That he hadn’t even opened the blinds. Selfishly, Azriel hoped they reported his lack of movement to Rhys. He hoped his brother would take pity on him, forget his anger and let him come back home. He would do his best to stay away from Elain, he just wanted out of this damn court. He just wanted to go home.
It wasn’t until another week had passed that Azriel had come to the grim realisation that Rhys wasn’t coming. He was stuck here for the indefinite future.
The time finally came when Azriel would have to leave the flat. The cupboards which were filled with food by Rhys upon his arrival had run bare and after suffering for two days without food as he sulked in his bed, his stomach was now cramping with hunger. Reluctantly, Azriel opened the door and left the flat. Immediately shooting his hand up to cover his eyes as the sun blinded him, causing his head to pound at the change from the sullen darkness of the flat to the bright skies that waited for him outside.
Grumbling at the situation, Azriel started to make his way down the street hoping it wouldn’t take long to find somewhere where he could purchase some food before heading back to the flat to wallow in his self pity some more. Unfortunately the Mother had other plans.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes”
Azriel whipped his head around at the sound of the annoyingly cheerful voice directed at him. He locked eyes with a young woman who was sat on the floor outside the flat building, book propped open on her lap as she leant her back against the wall and looked up at him, a wide smile adorning her lips. Cursing his shadows for not noticing someone watching him, Azriel turned back around without replying, continuing on his way and praying that the woman would stay where she was and not bother him.
But of course his run of bad luck continued as she put her book away into the bag by her side, stood up and dusted herself off before running to catch up with his long strides. “I was beginning to think you’d never leave” she continued, looking up at him now she had caught up to his side, smile still plastered on her face as if they were old friends. His shadows slowly inched towards her before Azriel subconsciously tugged them back to him. Again, Azriel didn’t respond, hoping that if he didn’t talk she would get the hint and leave him alone. But that didn’t stop the woman who was clearly intent on making his life a living hell, “so why did you leave today? Finally got bored of sitting around doing nothing?”
He was bored, but Azriel wasn’t prepared to tell this stranger that. It was obvious she wasn’t going to leave him alone any time soon so Azriel stopped in his tracks and turned to her, a deep scowl covering his face at the realisation she was waiting for him and had probably been the person he felt watching the flat the past few weeks. His scowl didn’t phase this unknown woman, she was slightly panting from the pace of keeping up with him but still annoyingly grinning up at him, the smell of vanilla overwhelming his senses as she walked alongside him. “What is this? Did Helion send you? Because if so get lost and tell him that I don’t need his lackeys following me around when I’m perfectly capable of going around on my own” he spat, different from his usually deadly calm demeanour but after two weeks of solitude and thoughts swimming with anger over the situation he was forced into, Azriel didn’t care about pleasantries and was looking for something or someone to take his anger out on.
His rude behaviour didn’t even phase the stranger before him, in fact Azriel could have sworn he saw her smile twitch a little bit wider. Now he was definitely certain that she’s positively insane. “Yes Helion sent me, but only because Rhysand asked him to. He was worried about -“
Azriel cut her off, “Well you can tell Rhysand that I’m fine, I don’t need your help” and with that he resumed his fast-paced walking once again trying to get away from her. Thankfully, she didn’t follow him this time. Instead she stayed standing where he had left her and called out, “the markets the other way!” He whipped round, cheeks heating with embarrassment at having this pointed out to him. “Just thought you should know” she grinned before nodding her head in the other direction, towards where the market must be, “shall we?”
He huffed out in frustration but admitted defeat, the quicker he got to the market and got food, the sooner he could get away from this pestering woman and go back to the soothing solitude of his flat. Content with his decision the lady smiled and fell into step with him, humming to fill the void of uncomfortable silence. Azriel clenched his jaw - couldn’t this woman stay silent for a minute?
As if his day couldn’t get even worse, Azriels shadows began to slowly dance around him as if enchanted by the melody she was producing. He was struggling to reel them in and his jaw clenched even harder at this unfortunate situation. If the lady had noticed, she doesn’t say anything or let on that she’s uncomfortable, continuing to him to herself as she skipped along.
Finally, as the street turns, Azriel can see the market stalls and some of the tension in his body is eased as he knows he’s one step closer to getting home. Not home. Back to the flat.
The two of them approached the stalls, Azriel looking over the food, some of which he hasn’t seen before as they don’t have the likes of them in the Night Court. His guide had started enthusiastically talking to the vendor of the stall, clearly they were familiar with each other and so he took the opportunity to silently break away and move away from the stalls, seeking to get away from her, need for food forgotten.
This didn’t go unnoticed though, as she excused herself and trailed after him. “So do you enjoy cooking?” She asked, aiming to break the awkward atmosphere between them and start a conversation.
“Litsen-“ Azriel started but was interrupted by your voice “Y/N”
“What?”
“My name. Y/N. May as well know it if you’re going to yell at me” she teased, lips upturned into a playful smirk as if she was enjoying this. Which only angered Azriel more.
“Listen Y/N. I didn’t ask to be here and I most certainly didn’t ask to be babysat by the likes of you. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own food and finding my own way back.” Azriel noticed Y/N’s confident demeanour wavering and took a deep breath out, satisfied that she would now leave and give him the space he so desperately required. Her face, a picture of sadness as she looked up to Azriel and asked, “and then what will you do?”
He could feel brows furrowing in confusion as he looked down at Y/N, “What?”
“What will you do when you’re back? Surely you can’t expect to just stay alone in your flat all day every day?” He wanted to make an angry retort and comment about how being alone would be miles better than being with her but Azriel was left speechless by this woman who he had never even met, who had the beginnings of silver tears in her eyes at the thought of him being alone in his flat.
Azriel was always used to caring for people , his brothers, Feyre, Elain and even sometimes Nesta but he wasn’t used to receiving care.
“I know it’s not fair. The situation you’re in. But you’re just going to make a shitty situation even worse by locking yourself up. Aren’t there any hobbies you could do while you’re here? Isn’t there anything you enjoy doing?”
Azriel could feel the anger wash away from him as shock flooded in. Did he have hobbies? It had been a long time since he had time to do anything he wanted. He wasn’t even sure what he liked to do. That’s when his thoughts turned defensive, shadows pulling tight against him to provide a sense of protection. Why was he letting these words from someone he only met a little under an hour ago get under his skin?
“I train” he tried to sound convincing, perhaps more so trying to convince himself than Y/N. Training was a hobby right? He’s done it everyday for hundreds of years… well up until he got sent here and then he hasn’t been doing a right lot of anything.
Y/N tilted her head in thought, “Do you enjoy training?”
Again, her questions had Azriel thinking harder than he had in days. Did he enjoy it? He liked the routine it brought and the strength it made him feel. But the more he dwells on it the more self conscious he becomes that he’s never done a lot of anything else.
“I… guess I do,” Azriel was unsure now. Why was he even entertaining this conversation. He knew if he really wanted to he could leave. Leave Y/N standing there and go back to his dark little piece of the Day Court. Heck he could even use his shadows and travel back to the Night Court, but he was sure his arrival wouldn’t be appreciated by Rhysand and he really didn’t want to risk angering his brother even further. No. Azriel was well and truly stuck here until his brother decided otherwise.
Sensing his unease, Y/N donned a soothing smile. Oddly enough it calmed Azriel and he found his shadows, that had started swirling around him at his distress, start to calmly sway. Even more unusual than the fact Azriel found comfort in this woman’s smile, was the lack of pity in her eyes. Her eyes that he found himself gazing into for some form of stability, some indicator that told him he wasn’t really alone in this court until he had been staring to long that he could feel the suffocating tension in the air.
“Well…” Y/N started, Azriel tried not to flinch as she sliced through the tension, not letting on whether she felt it too, “you may be here a while. I don’t see why you should hide away and force yourself to suffer. Why don’t you take the time to pick up some new hobbies?” The thought she voiced brought a dazzling grin to her face as if she couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than the thought of Azriel doing something new.
The suggestion made Azriel scoff.
“Oh yeah like what?”
“Like…hiking! That’s similar to training right? Or you could try baking. Or art is meant to be very therapeutic…ooh you could paint!…”
Y/N trailed off looking to Azriel who was stood with his brow raised as if he couldn’t think of anything worse than all the things she had suggested. Fear crept into him as he kept staring at her wide grin, as if she was already picturing him in an apron, decorating cakes in his kitchen. Wanting to step away from this situation and melt into his shadows Azriel just stood in silence.
“Rhysand wouldn’t want you to do nothing”
And that was when something snapped in Azriel. Pure rage at the thought of Rhysand feeling anything other than contentment at the suffering he has forced Azriel to enjoy. Y/N clearly realising she said the wrong thing as her smile wavers and she took a step back to avoid his shadows which were amassing around him, stammering apologies of how she was just trying to be helpful.
“Well don’t,” Azriel stated, void of emotions, “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it” and with that he took off, striding away and leaving Y/N behind who finally had the sense not to follow him. He made it back to his flat, not even caring that he didn’t grab the food he had gone out for and collapsed into bed.
His emotions hit him in powerful waves, the abandonment he felt from his friends, his brothers, sending shockwaves to his heart. Alone in his flat, tears fell down his face. Was this truly what he deserved for just trying to get close to Elain? To help her feel more settled into the night court with the rest of the inner circle, with him?
Azriel cried and cried until exhaustion overwhelmed him and he had no other option than to let sleep take over him. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when he was awoken by a soft knocking at the door. Anger coursed through him again at the thought of having to talk to you on the other side of the door. At the thought you may have been doing your job, watching him, reporting his tears and his begging to go home to Helion so he could report to Rhysand. He flung the door open, prepared to curse you and shout at you.
Only when he did open the door he wasn’t greeted by you. There was no one there. He could smell the sweet scent of vanilla in the air but his shadows told him you were long gone. His eyes fell to the floor where there was a basket full of food which he grabbed and brought inside and closed the door.
He emptied the basket, snacking on an apple from the goods as he did so. And when he reached the bottom, his hands faltered before taking out a simple black sketchbook and a set of pencils that were placed inside. Azriel let out a disgusted sound and tossed them on the floor.
Part 2
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(RAHRWAHRAHAHAHWAHRAWR 😩‼️)
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Childhood Bsf Soap! Who hates leaving you even before you start dating. He worries about you 24/7 while he's on a mission even if he knows you can take care of yourself.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who can't help but feel like you're already family. You're at his parents house every holiday get together and you're friends with all his cousins and siblings. You're his plus one to every wedding. It'd be so easy for you to take his last name.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who convinces you to move in with him. He says it's cost efficient but really it's because he can't stand being away from you more than he has to. He loves coming home to you just lounging or cooking bc it makes him feel like you're his little wife waiting for him to come home ☹️ he just wants someone to hold him when it's over. It also doesn't hurt that he gets to see you prance around with wet hair in just a t shirt (no bra 😏) and panties bc you hate the feelings of pants on your freshly moisturized legs.
This doesn't help the problem Childhood Bsf Soap! has of talking about you to his team like you've been married to him for years. Calls you his lass, the missus, his lady. "Can't make it to the bar tonight, the missus has been looking forward to this new movie so I'm gonna take my lass to see it." The first time he complained about your new partner his teammates were stunned bc this whole time they thought you were his gf/wife. Soap likes the idea of people assuming you 2 are a couple.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who has never liked any of your past partners and always made it very well known bc this boy can't hide his emotions. If he has to be around the person you're talking to romantically he's constantly like this 😡 in the corner literally POUTING. He'll even go as far as trying to convince you to break up with them for something. "They didn't even know your favorite childhood cartoon! They obviously don't care about getting to know you on a deeper level maybe you should end it now 😁"
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who already knows your relationship preferences and love languages. When he finally decides he's had enough of the just friends thing he takes full advantage of the years he's spent listening to you rant about love and ramble about your dream partner. All of the sudden he's hitting you with all the aspects you want in a partner and it's not an opportunity any sane person could pass up.
Childhood Bsf Soap! Who traps you in the bedroom the night before a mission. He got the call just after lunch and you haven't left the bed since. Hours later, his head is on your chest and you're lazily stroking his mohawk and watching some cooking show on the tv. He stays buried in you all night even after he goes soft just to be as close to you as possible before he has to leave. He's praying he's allowed to come back to you again this time.
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Umh 2nd ever time doing something like this 😬not as proud of this one bc I don't read much about Soap personally but I figured I started with Gaz so I might as well do another underated one. Soap needs some love too fr 💕 I really don't know what I'm doing y'all 😔😭
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1whore1gang · 6 months
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I wanted to try something
NSFW WARNING MDNI!!!!
Soooo I’ve went down the rabbit hole of werewolf!TF141 and honestly I’ve had some ideas pop up, so uh yeah this is what my brain does when it gets on tumblr
Warnings: sex…full blown smut, fingering, p in v, all the warnings y’all,….. i think i used ‘pup’ in here somewhere
MDNI!! NSFW!!
Omega!Reader x Werewolf!141
written as a f!reader
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It was like any other day, training with the 141. As the newest addition to this pack, you were pushed hard to be the best. Being one of two Omegas was even tougher, considering the other was your superior.
“Push harder rookie.” Soap’s voice rang out as you pulled yourself off the floor, exhausted and drenched in sweat. “Dig deep, you aren’t goin’ anywhere until you pin me down.”
You want to groan, complain, but you don’t. Instead you brace for impact as the sparing continues. Soap had you beat in just about every category when it came to fighting, this man was HUGE. You couldn’t keep up.
“I’m tapping out!” The words come out quick as Soap backs off.
“Already?” He questions. Soap was one of two members you’ve already met. You haven’t been here very long.
“Yeah, I’m calling it quits.” You push yourself onto your feet, panting. “You can’t expect this out of me on Day 3 can you?”
Soap only laughs, not even a glisten of sweat on him. “You’ll get there pup. Soon enough you’ll be able to take the big dogs down.”
Big dogs?? You think to yourself. There’s guys bigger than Soap here?
Meeting the rest of the team embarrassed you more than you care to admit. This team was graced with two alphas. When you got near the room they were in, every hair stood up on your body, their scent so strong it lingered down the hallway.
Weeks and months go by without a hitch, except for one, but we don’t talk about that…
You were sent on your first mission and it was the night prior when your whole world fell apart. You had just gotten out of the shower when your knees collapsed and your body felt like it was on fire.
“No, no, no…” You had felt sick the last couple of days but chalked it up to something you ate. You felt your skin becoming warm and damp with sweat as it all hit you.
You were in heat
You panicked, the pain engulfing every inch of you, the need for relief taking over your cognitive thinking.
You crawled over to your phone and texted the only person you could trust, the team Beta, Gaz.
Within minutes he was at your door, jumping inside your room to help you dress and get into bed. He was calm, assuring you it was all going to be alright.
That’s when you let out a horrific scream. You covered your mouth immediately, Gaz backing away. “What was that?”
Your eyes were wide. “I don’t know…”
You both froze in time, praying it didn’t draw either of you any unwanted attention. But, unbeknownst to you both, the other 3 men could smell you miles away.
Gaz stayed with you, trying to cool you off and keep you fed and hydrated, it was hours before another man showed up at your door….Soap.
He looked at you with worry, in his pajama pants and shirt. He didn’t even have shoes on…. “What’s going on? Your scent is intoxicating.” He slowly entered your room, approaching you with caution.
Gaz spoke for you, and when he did, Soap asked him to give you and him some space. Soap crawled in behind you, leaning your head against his chest. “Relax for me okay?” Soap was an Omega, just like you, but somehow his presence felt calming. It didn’t dull the ache you felt, but he brought a sense of peace to your mind.
Suddenly, you feel his hands roam down your body to your lounge pants and remove them down to your ankles, lifting your knees to spread your legs. “Do you trust me?”
You could only nod as the cold air of your room hit your bottom half. Soap’s hand took home inbetween your legs, his fingers entering you and filling the emptiness you’ve felt.
A moan left your lips as he moved, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder. Gaz watched on, waiting to be told how he could help.
As good as Soap’s fingers felt, you still felt the searing pain. It wasn’t doing anything to quell your problems. It caused you to question Soap’s methods.
But little did you know, Soap knew exactly what he was doing because it didn’t take long of his fingers in you until the two alphas appeared at your door. The sight before them causing them to become feral, primal even. “Look at that, they smelled us.” Soap smirked.
Looking at Price and Ghost, you couldn’t help but feel a bit exposed, but their presence brought a newfound relief to you.
Price moved first, coming to hover above you against Soap’s chest, his hand brushing your hair down as he spoke softly: “We’re gonna take care of ya.”
Price slowly moved Soap’s hand away, putting his own palm flat against you. His middle finger swiped up, taking in the feeling of you. His eyes closed as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.
Before you knew it, Ghost was now in place of Soap, his hips rutting against your ass, his hands on your chest. You had found yourself sandwiched between the two alphas. You were drinking in every moment.
Price slowly warned you as he moved, slowly letting you adjust to his size, purring in your ear: “That’s it, that’s a good girl.”
Ghost took care of every other area of your body, slowly caressing you in every way. His fingers grazed over your nipples and eventually would travel down to your clit to help you along.
Between both of them, it didn’t take long for you to come undone. Price continued through to his own release, burying himself deep inside you. The feeling was unlike anything.
The sounds you let out as the fiery pain left your body we’re heaven to the men’s ears. Price quickly moved to help clean you up as Ghost covered you with the hoodie he had been wearing. Ghost had marked your sheets with his scent, leaving you surrounded with it.
As soon as you were clean, the alphas left without another word, Gaz quickly coming to your aid with food and water while Soap sat with you, massaging your sides. They kept you company until you had fallen asleep, and they returned to their own rooms.
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gurugirl · 7 months
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The Church Picnic
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priest!harry x subby!reader | soft dom!harry x bratty/sub!reader
Summary: Harry's pet is being being a nuisance at the church picnic so he takes matters into his own hands when she can't seem to behave. Roughly based off this request.
Word Count: 2.2k
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, religious mentions, smut, sex in a public place, sub/dom dynamic
Forgive Me, Father masterlist
“I need to be spanked, Father,” Y/n whispered into Harry’s ear as he placed food onto his paper plate.
It was the church’s annual picnic in the big park at the center of town. Most of the congregation was there, as well as people invited to join who might be interested in attending the church. It was a way to attract new church members, as well as something fun and laid back for regular members to enjoy with games, food, and a raffle.
The priest had been making his rounds, talking to everyone, greeting the new faces, and making sure things were running smoothly.
Y/n had helped set up with five other church members. She had gotten there early and helped direct the vendors to where they needed to be and figured out where tables and chairs and games would best be placed.
Harry looked down at Y/n who had her plush bottom lip bit into her mouth and shook his head with a sigh, “When we get home I’ll take care of you.”
She was used to being “taken care of” every morning before their day started. Well, before hers started generally. Harry was an early riser. Often he’d leave just as the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and jog around the neighborhood for exercise while his pet was still in bed. Sometimes he’d come home and she was awake and waiting for him. Other times she’d still be in bed with blankets wrapped around her body.
Either way, they both got what they needed before they had to get into their tasks for the day.
Except for this morning. Harry had to leave early to go to the church before he could get to the park. He and the elders and leaders had some things to do as well as pray over the event before it began. So not only did he not get to have his regular morning workout, but he also didn’t get to enjoy his pet either.
“I need your hands on me now,” she pushed quietly with her words.
Harry turned from the table of food and began to walk away. He knew what she was doing. She often got like this. He imagined she was asking to be spanked because she she hadn't been given proper attention that morning. Or maybe she simply wanted a spanking and probably an orgasm. Either way, Harry couldn’t think about it too much because he was among his members and other leaders of the church.
Y/n casually followed behind him. Not bothering to try and keep up with his long-legged strides because she knew he was headed to a picnic table to sit and eat. She was confident that she was going to get her way.
Harry slid into the bench of the picnic table at the end across from Mr. and Mrs. Jeralds.
She slowed her steps when she saw who was next to.
The Jeralds.
She’d been avoiding them since the night after the prayer meeting when she was sure that they’d been caught with Harry calling her a good girl. So far nothing had come of that little oversight. The Jeralds either hadn’t actually heard or seen anything (in which case Y/n was relieved but perplexed because Harry had been so obvious with his hands on her neck, the way he’d been stood so close, and the words he spoke) or maybe… they just decided to not tell anyone. Y/n figured it was the latter because she’d seen the looks from Mrs. Jeralds’ end and noticed how her demeanor had changed around both herself and the priest.  Wondered if Mr. Jeralds had told her to keep quiet and not cause a scene.
Walking behind the Jeralds she kept her eyes on Harry to get his attention. When he looked up at her she tilted her head toward the pavilion and raised her brows at him. But he didn’t budge. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. And she, of course, wouldn't make this easy for him either.
He watched her pout and cross her arms over her chest as she sulked away. He was sure she wasn’t done with her little show. Would probably have to really keep her in check in front of everyone. He could tell she was in a mood. Though, he trusted she wouldn’t do anything to out their little secret she could get bratty with him.
Not long after Harry had finished his lunch he spotted Y/n talking to a young man who he’d never had the pleasure of meeting. So he approached the pair, not because he was jealous, but because he wanted to greet the new face.
Shaking the guy’s hand and introducing himself he learned that the man was Mrs. Jeralds’ cousin. The one she wanted Y/n to meet. He frowned at his pet as she put her hand on the young man’s shoulder, “And he’s working at that place downtown, Debrille,” she turned to look back at the guy, “You’ve gotta be so smart to be working there, Austin.” She spoke and Harry knew she was trying to make him jealous.
He watched the two talk for a moment, his pet’s hand never leaving the guy’s shoulder before interrupting, “It was nice to meet you, Austin. Y/n, I think Cheryl was asking for you back there. You should go see if she needs help.” He lied. A small little fib to get Y/n to move away from the handsome young man. He was not jealous of course. Just annoyed.
Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes at the priest (not within eyeshot of anyone) but deep down she was patting herself on the back for a job well done. She was wearing away at him.
After Y/n had helped the kids with the one-foot race and pairing them up she saw Harry speaking with an older gentleman and even though she knew it would be rude to interrupt she couldn’t help herself as her dirty thoughts and her needs were outweighing her good senses.
“Father, I need to ask you something if you don’t mind. It’s urgent.”
Harry squinted down at her and looked back to the man, excusing himself from their conversation. He followed her to a spot that she felt was private and looked up at him with eyes that told him what she wanted before she even said it. She knew when she rounded her eyes and made her voice breathy he had a hard time resisting her, “Father… I know you’re busy but the pavilion has a clean family bathroom with lots of space and a big bench. And I need you so bad. I’m not gonna be able to wait. Please.”
Harry looked around him and back down at his pet, “I told you to be patient.”
She shook her head, “I can’t be. I’m gonna explode. If you knew how wet I was right now… oh god…” she quietly moaned and lifted her fingers up to her neck where her pretty gold choker was, “I’m about to just go in there and take care of myself. It’ll only take five minutes. Less probably.”
Harry took a deep breath and shook his head, “You’re being a brat. You know I can’t–“
“You’ve fucked me in the rectory and in the confession box at the church before. Why not here?”
Harry clenched his jaw. She was trying his patience.
“Because if anyone sees us leaving the bathroom or going in together… and I because I said.”
She pouted smoothed her hands down her dress, “Gonna go in and take care of myself then,” she turned to walk away but Harry grasped the back of her arm, stopping her from taking another step.
“Fine. Go in and lock it behind yourself. I’ll be in there in five minutes with one knock at the door. You better not touch yourself either.”
Her pout instantly lifted as she smiled, “Ooh… thank you, Father!”
Harry didn’t know why he was giving in but he knew she wasn’t going to stop and if he knew that she was in that bathroom touching herself he’d have been a mess watching the pavilion until she emerged. He’d give her what she wanted but it wouldn’t be without consequences later.
When Y/n heard one knock on the door she hopped up from the bench and slowly opened the door for her lover.
Harry stepped in, closing and locking the door behind him.
“4 minutes is all you get. You better come in less. And later, you’ll be paying for this behavior. You are not getting off scot-free.”
Clapping her hands together she turned around before lifting her dress and pulling her panties down, “Spank me and fill me. Please, Father.”
Harry rolled his eyes but the reality was he was already hard thinking about how risky they were being and seeing her bare bottom, bruised and marked from his hands and the various paddles and instruments he’d used on her, he was aching to put himself out his own misery.
He guided her to the bench with his hands at her round bottom and swiftly undid his pants, pulling his cock out and then swatted her bum with a harsh smack.
She moaned and lifted one knee up to the bench, keeping her other foot flat on the floor, and leaned over to put her hands on the wall. With the slight spread of her thighs and the way she’d lifted her leg, he could see she was indeed already completely wet for him. Just as she said.
Harry gave her another heavy-handed smack before taking his cock in his hand and pressed it through her already-slick pussy lips, “Such a nasty thing. Walking around during a church function with your panties all wet for the priest.” And without further ado, he drove himself into her sodden cunt, dipping himself in nearly to the hilt. Her cheek smushed into the wall as she quietly gasped with a smile on her face.
Giving her bottom a few more slaps he slowly began to pull back before he thrust back in, this time until his hips were firm against her bottom, and she groaned lowly, “Yes, Father. I’ve been so nasty imagining your cock drilling into me and making me whole all morning long.”
Harry began to fuck into her pussy in quick and hard thrusts, his hand landing over her plump and marked bottom repeatedly with loud smacks.
He knew he could come in under four minutes if necessary. He just wasn’t so sure she could.
“Better come fast because I’m gonna finish and leave you here without an orgasm if you don’t. Either way, your punishment tonight will not be kind, pet.” He spoke as he slowed his thrusts and tugged her hair in his hand, yanking her neck back in the process.
Her fingers found her clit at his warning and he continued his punishing plunges. He was glad it was so loud outside because the sounds coming from inside the bathroom were lewd and sinful. Skin wetly smacking and hushed moans and gasps, Harry’s occasional grunt.
Harry’s thighs began to tremble as he pumped himself in and out quickly. He adjusted his cadence to slow down so he could really feel her pussy gripping every inch of him tightly and coating the length of his cock. He felt his balls tighten up against his body and Y/n could hear the moan falling from his chest, getting louder. She knew her priest was about to come.
“Give me your come, Father. Fuck it all into my pussy. Want all your creamy come inside of me,” she moaned her words as her fingers slid quickly over her clit and she felt the tingle of her orgasm approach.
“Fuck, pet! Fuck…” Harry panted as his cock throbbed and he watched the spectacle of his cock disappearing into his pet’s little wet pussy over and over again. He kept his hand in her hair, gripping hard as he had her face pushed into the wall.
When her stance stiffened and he felt her squeezing and pulsing around him he knew she was coming. Her mouth was dropped open, not a sound coming out, as he poured into her, rocking his hips into hers and then pressing in so his balls were tucked against her. He let go of her hair and held her bottom, draining himself into her and gasping as he did so.
When he’d recovered he issued her two more swats to each cheek and carefully pulled himself out so he didn’t drip his come or her arousal onto his pants.
She kept herself leaning against the wall as she caught her breath, ass still on display.
Harry watched his come leak from her and drip down her thighs. He leaned over her back and spoke darkly into her ear, “Clean yourself up and get back out there to help. You are not getting off easy with this behavior.” Another harsh swat to her bottom and he left her there in the family bathroom against the wall on the bench.
She smiled. She always got her way. And getting her way also included a severe punishment for being naughty. Exactly what she wanted. She had her priest wrapped around her finger.
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ghostfacd · 11 months
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WE DON’T HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT. — king george iii
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— “I CAN WALK YOU HOME AND PRACTICE METHOD ACTING.”
pairing; king george iii x fem!queen!reader
summary; you and the king weren’t inlove. it was as simple as it sounds, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
genre; angst, crying, reader deserves better, mentions of sex but no smut, based on “cool about it” by boygenius
author’s note: this song makes me cry so of course i had to write an angst fic to cope 😭
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When you and King George III got married, you knew the marriage was destined to fail.
It was a sensitive topic—you and the King’s marriage. You were still young; he was still young. You wanted to live your life and he wanted to live his. But both of your parents had other plans.
The two of you didn’t even know each other before the label was sealed and you two were pronounced husband and wife. During the first few months in the castle, you and George have grew not only distant, but greatly depressed.
It started off small, with you missing your castle, your bed, and your siblings. You were feeling homesick, and your own husband could not be there to comfort you. He had problems of his own.
He was quiet and calculating. The King rarely showed emotion, much less sleep in the same bed as you unless it was for the conceiving of the next heir.
The only time George had shown any care towards you was the birth of your first son, Prince William. You were in labor, and pain struck through your entire body. With shaking hands, your husband placed your hand in his, letting you squeeze it tightly for support.
When the cry of the new heir rang through the hospital walls, George cried. The King of Great Britain and Ireland had cried. He cradled the baby close to his chest, admiring his nose, small hands, and eyes.
For the first time, you and George had felt a connection. It wasn’t love, but rather, a mutual understanding that it was both your duties to serve this country, and by that, it meant that you had to keep your composures for your son.
“Oh Will,” you say as you hold your baby close to your chest one night. “My beautiful prince.”
George walks in a bit later when William is sound asleep. His eyes look tired, however, there’s a soft glow in them that seems to be reserved only for William. When you gently place your son down on his crib, George leans in to give the baby a kiss on the forehead, smoothing out his tiny tufts of hair.
Though the two of you don’t talk, George looks at you with a certain look on his face, one that you both silently understand. All of this is for William, the future King of Britain.
So when William had gone sick in the middle of a very cold January, the two of you were losing your minds. The boy was now four, very intelligent and well spoken for his age. He had gotten a terrible fever and was on his bed for the entire month.
Maids and servants would come in, changing the young prince’s sheets to keep him cool, put cold towels on his forehead, and feed him soup to make sure he got all his nutrients. He still wasn’t getting better.
“Will?” You say, opening up the door to his bedroom quietly. It made a small creak, alerting the now awake Prince.
“Yes mum?” His voice was hoarse, and it broke your heart.
“I came in with water, please drink it my darling,” you give your son the warm glass, helping him sit up to drink it.
You run your hands through his hair, rubbing his back softly. You prayed to God everyday that your boy would recover soon.
“Mum.” He says, looking up to meet your eyes. He had your eyes, but his face resembled that of his father, your husband, the King.
“Yes darling?”
“How come you and father never show love towards one another?”
The question caught you off guard, your eyes forming into a sense of panic. But you quickly cover it up, not wanting to worry your son.
“What do you mean Will?” You ask, running your fingers through his hair gently.
“I mean, sometimes when I look out the window, I see visitors outside Buckingham with their parents. They look so happy Mum, their parents look so happy with one another. But I never see you and Father smile at each other, or sit in the same table for dinner. Why Mum?”
You didn’t know how to explain to your son that his parents didn’t love each other and that the whole marriage and his own birth was simply for the next generation of royals.
“Your father and I are simply busy,” you say, making sure to be careful with your words, “he’s the king, he has a lot on his plate my dearest. But we both love you very much.”
“But you don’t love each other.” William whispers underneath his breath. You don’t catch it, which he is silently thankful for.
“Well, Mum has to go,” you say, standing up to adjust your gown. “Feel better my darling.”
You place a kiss on his forehead, and he closes his eyes, ready for another nap.
That night, you sit in the middle of your large bed, tears filling your eyes. The doctor had told you that you were with child, about 3 to 4 weeks. You of course didn’t tell anyone, not even George. Your emotions were all over the place, from your firstborn being extremely sick to this news of you being pregnant.
Your head looks up at the tall ceiling, which was covered in gold and decorated beautifully. Even though you were inside a glorious palace with servants left and right, you have never felt more alone.
A sob leaves your mouth as your breathing gets heavier. You knew it was stupid of you. A queen must always stay composed, but the news of you having another child absolutely wrecked your soul. Of course you loved your child, but it was going to grow up in a loveless home being only being known as the spare, important only if your firstborn were to pass away.
“YN?” A knock comes at your door, the voice of George coming from the other side.
George? You think. Why was he here?
You quickly wipe away your tears, walking up to open the large doors. George’s eyes meet your bloodshot ones, and for a moment, they softened.
“What is wrong my queen?”
That was the only thing it took for you to lose it completely, falling into his arms with sobs wrecking every part of your body.
“Hey hey hey,” George coaxes as he carries the two of you onto your bed, placing you down gently.
You crawl into his arms, wrapping yourself in his embrace. He doesn’t stop you or tense up, instead, letting you place your face into his neck.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” George says softly as he pats your back. Your breathing was uneven, and you were sure you were staining his clothes with your tears.
You guess this was a good way to practice method acting. Pretending that George cared deeply about you, pretending that the two of you were inlove, and pretending that you were one happy family.
Maybe then, William and your new child would grow up happy, fooled by the thought that their parents were happy with one another.
Maybe, it would possibly fool you too.
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igotanidea · 2 months
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Dirty work: Jason Todd x reader
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A/N: I am a firm believer that even in his post-patrol haze and surge of energy all Jason Todd needs from his beloved princess are hugs, not fucks and i will die on this hill.
***
The adrenaline was still fuzzing in his system, even after hours and hours of his night job in Gotham. It was stressful and hitting on all his sensitive spots hidden so deep under the surface. Muscles moving in the trained motion he practised milion times before, each instinct spurred on by imagination running wild.
Hurt, scared, innocent kids, left to tend to themselves on the streets.
Ordinary citizens exposed to the aftermath of whatever drama and destruction the mobs and gangs decided to wage that night.
Terror on the street on women who were working the night shift, trying to make a living, make ends meet.
And the same shit going on over and over again every fucking night, because fucking someone had a fucking moral code. Because fucking someone refused to put an end to something terrible, too afraid to stain his fucking soul.
Red Hood didn't have a soul to save anymore.
Not after everything that happened in his life.
Dirty wokrk, but someone had to do it.
One life taken, dozens of other's saved. Felt like constantly being at war and the heat of the fight made it so much easier to forget about the sacrifices made along the way.
Red Hood was strong, tough and ready to take on the hardest responsiblity of cleaning Gotham of scumbags and crimnals.
But after?
Once the first rays of a morning sun loomed on the horizon, Jason knew it was time to go home. Take off the mask. Became an ordinary man once more.
Hoping, wishing and praying she wouldn't kick him out again this time. That she would take him, despite the blood on his hands, the injuries on his body and deep scars on his soul.
Not a Red Hood anymore.
Jason Todd. Human. Man. Boyfiend.
The energy was still high when he climbed to the apartment and stood on the wooden floor, carefullly avoiding that one screetching floarboard, almost stepping on his toes to not wake her.
"Jason."
Years of vigilantism and dealing with shit.
Hightened instincts and senses.
And yet, Y'N's voice in the morning, in the empty, quiet apartment made him jump from surprise, causing her to giggle, causing the surprise to give way to a wave of warm feelings.
"Morning, sunshine."
"Depends. Did you bring me breakfast?" she teased
"Since when do you eat breakfast?"
"It doesn't matter if I do!" she got out of the bed, yawning widely, rubbing her eyes and stepping closer to him, taking his helmet off, mindful of the explosived installed there (biting her tongue to not say something about using a protection that was simultaniously life threatening) "You are supposed to preach me about not eating healthy and feeding me with the best groceries. Croissaints, fancy salads, low fat cheese. All that stuff!"
"Are you for real?" he frowned in confusion upon her words. What was going on here?
"Nah, I'm joking cause I can tell that under all this pose you're tired. Though maybe a bit of laugh would do you good. Even if it;s at my expense" she smiled cupping his cheek and meeting his eyes "What do you need? hugs, kisses, cuddles? Or somehing more intense?" that was an obvious hint she was willing to help if he needed some action to blow off some steam.
"Can you just be with me? I just need your presence next to me. Knowing this is all real and I won't wake up alone again." hearing those words coming from Jason was the biggest leap of faith. He was not the one to admit to feeling tired or that something was weighting on his conscience once out of the mask. Never in the million years. But with her - it was simpler, easier, knowing she would just listen and observe rather than fill the silence with silly questions and talking and preaching and lamenting about his behaviour.
"I'm here. I promise, it's all real. You're not alone." She nodded calmly.
Jason produced the tiniest smile and let her guide him to the warm bed with the soft sheets smelling like her, with her arms wrapped around him like a soft cocoon.
And it was just fine.
No need to talk or to explain or to fight anymore.
Getting rid of this feeling that nothing made sense, his efforts were futile and no one would ever understand him.
Finally, a little bit of peace and maybe - just maybe - the tiniest amount of happiness brought by the steady beating of her heart in his ear and the gentle movement of her fingers in his hair.
True meaning of intimacy between two people.
Bonding for life.
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hellavile · 1 year
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SMITTEN ☆ eren yeager.
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★ 𖥻 synopsis. being cuffed to the bed was the last thing eren expected on your date night home.
‍     ‍ ☆. warnings — 3.5k nsfw, pwp, lowercase intended, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, black coded, girly girl reader, mechanic!eren, bondage, established relationship, riding, switch!reader, switch!eren, eren’s sensitive, chubby!reader, readers needy, male oral, finger sucking, eren is fussy, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, kissing, mutual praise, voice kink, vulgar language, edging, pet names ex. mamas. baby. princess. daddy. minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated! <3
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“baby. . . you're in so much fuckin’ trouble when i get outta these.”
eren knows how much you love him. how much you appreciate him, care for him, wanna be with him for the rest of your life. the matching ‘till death’ tattoos imprinted on the inner corner of your ring fingers proving so. he makes sure you're always taken care of financially, mentally, and even physically. works from sunrise to sunset, praises you with kisses all over your precious face for making him a meal every day. buys you whatever your heart desires. runs you bubble baths when you aren't feeling well. gives you full body massages which usually leads to him burying his face between your plush thighs. eren loves you. eren needs you. without you he isn't sane. you complete him. so because he treats you like a queen, it's only right that he receives king treatment.
while eren made his way home to you, the only person he wanted to see after a tiring, stressful day with customers who complained about their cars to him and loud-mouthed, gossipy employees at his auto shop . . . he was surprised to see that you set up a romantic atmosphere. eren is greeted with a soft, neat kiss to his pouty lips. his biceps tensing as he wraps both arms around your body in a tight bear-hug, giggling as he lifts you off the ground.
you've got scented candles lit around the loft with ceiling high windows, a bottle of stella rose black and a classic meal of creamy mafaldine tuscan chicken pasta prepared. strawberry cheesecake in the fridge for desert. eren’s eyes soften, picking you up and carrying you to the dining table to eat your meal, not before showering you with more kisses and a hundred thank you's.
you enjoy your meal under the moonlight, sipping wine and having deep conversations which you envied because there's always something the two of you can talk about without getting fussy. debates, political topics, wellness, issues with each other. remaining mature since you have the best communication. you wanted to let him know that he's been so understanding, so attentive to your needs and you felt like you needed to do more to show him you want him to feel secure. that this is a forever love and you don't take him for-granted, not for a second.
“baby, never think that you don't do enough for me. i make the decision to cater to you and i have no issue in doing so. you deserve this lifestyle. being in my presence is all i could ever ask of you. i pray everyday that i don't fuck up what we have. you're my girl.”
and immediately, you're taking the air from his lungs when you pull him close with your arms lazily thrown over his shoulders while you kiss him deeply. madly in love. it's a scary thing sometimes. and it's crazy how such a sweet moment turned into a salacious act like this. after finishing a film in the living room cuddled up with your pets, a cat for you and a dog for him, you tell eren you have one more surprise. standing to your feet with a cheeky smile, holding both hands out for him to grab. eren is curious, raising his brows before standing to his full height, towering over your figure and it never fails to make your skin heat up.
“don't pull no scary shit,” eren runs a tatted hand through his long hair before holding yours.
“shush, i promise it's not that.”
eren can't see you biting your sanrio themed acrylics with excitement, too busy staring at your bare ass underneath that slutty slip you have on. he recognizes it, in fact. an old piece by victoria's secret you've been searching on depop for like a madwoman. it's a mesh coquette cherry colored slip dress with a ruffled trim tulle skirt and damn did you wear it so good, the slip hugging your curves just right. his mouth waters, instinctively smacking your ass as you step into your shared bedroom.
before you could speak, as you turn to him he's already pulling you in by your waist, using his foot to kick the door closed so the kids wouldn't interrupt. they liked to jump on the bed mid-fuck a lot. you try not to melt in his hold, his lips gliding with yours, molding your ass in his hand, moaning from your taste.
“er—”
“who said you could look this fuckin’ good, unh?” swatting your ass again, the force knocks you closer into his chest, face burning when you feel his dick thickening in his jeans against your tummy. print evident.
“it's all for you, ‘ren,” chewing your lips with a smile, you give him a quick peck before releasing his hands from your ass. “but first, i need you to take your clothes off.”
“ooo,” he sings. “you feed me some good ass food, get all touchy and cuddly, and now you tryna fuck me?” eren tongues his inner cheek with a smirk. “nasty.”
“shut up and strip.”
“yes ma'am,” eren hums, still giving you those flirty green eyes as he stretches his arms behind himself to tug at his stained white tshirt, usually getting his clothes dirty when working. he still manages to smell so good though. a mix of musk with his daily cologne and body wash. you'll never forget the time when he came home one day, car grease on his hands nearly turning them black. hair messy and a dangerous look in his eye when he caught you in the kitchen with an apron baking a pie. bending you over the sink, hiking your pink sundress up on your waist and holding you still as he fucked you hard. rough hands groping every inch of your aching body. keeping you balanced by your forearms he held back while he ground his cock deep into you, expletives spewing, sweat coating his forehead, and nutting copious amounts of cum. point is, you love when he's fresh off of work. makes the thrill all the more inviting.
jeans come next. and that's when he takes his time, eyeing you as he torturously drags the zipper down before dragging the black fabric down his muscular thighs, dick bulging in his tommy hilfiger briefs. commentary ensues. “gonna kiss it for me?”
you shake your finger at him, a tiny tsk following. “don't ruin the surprise, keep going. wanna see you.”
“i feel like i'm being filmed, there better not be a camera,” he rolls his eyes, finally discarding every clothing piece on his body, your legs clenching tighter together where you stood as he moans when his dick hits his tummy. the tip is drenching precum it's almost inhumane. you needed to lick that up real soon.
“you wanna be?” you question, serious.
eren deadpans. “be for real.”
“you can wear a mask!” you protest, actually enjoying the idea. “mhm, you'd look so good with a balaclava on.”
“no.”
sucking your teeth, you continue with your plan, walking towards the closet to find a little box with his gift inside. holding the black and red compartment, you face him with a cheshire cat grin. “get on the bed and lay on your back.”
eren’s too horny to argue right now, still anxious about what you're planning, but does what you say nonetheless. naked, heavy, tall figure dipping the bed with black satin sheets and pillows as he sits up against the headboard, tucking some strands of hair behind his ear, wrinkling his pierced nose. “i don't like you.”
“you will in a minute. close your eyes. no peaking or i'm going to bed and your gonna have to fuck your hand instead.”
flaring his nostrils, he closes his eyes. you try your best to be silent with your present, removing the lid to take out the baby pink fuzzy handcuffs you ordered a few days ago. thinking this would be the perfect time to put them to use. he's quiet, leaning his head back when he feels you climb on top of him, stifling a breath when the mesh from your slip grazes the head of his dick. beyond sensitive. taking one of his wrists, you unclasp one cuff and chain him to it, eren’s eyes shooting open before you restrain him to the headboard completely.
“no fuckin’ way,” eren licks his lips as he shakes his head, a menacing glare in his eyes as you sit on his abdomen and keen in achievement. “baby. . . you're in so much fuckin’ trouble when i get outta these.”
“why? scared i'll slut you the fuck out, baby?” a sadistic smile casts your face, eren nearly trembling from your words. what exactly did you have in mind? he had no idea. but he's kind of . . . amused? aroused mostly. it's rare when you tap into your dominant side. loving to be his pretty little submissive.
“if you wanted to bounce on my dick so bad you could've been straightforward.”
“mhm, this is more fun. i get you all to myself. i can do whatever i want. promise it's all for you. just wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you suck on your lip and press your weight down on him, trailing your hands up his chest to his tatted neck, eyes drifting low and moaning from how good the view was. he's truly an ethereal man.
“g’na fuck me empty, princess?” his voice drops an octave, knowing what that does to you. the way his voice summons you to do things will never make sense.
“till your shooting blanks,” you grin.
“well, if that's the case,” eren ponders, inching his face closer to yours, accepting his fate and playing your fantasy. "then put that pussy where it belongs, princess.”
it's not in his position to make orders, so ignoring him, you scoot backwards so his angry dick is in your face and your ass is arched into the air for presentation. “wanna suck it first,” you mumble, delicately wrapping both of your soft hands around the vein protruding, throbbing weapon. just the right thickness to make it impossible to fully engulf it in your throat.
eren spreads his legs, and the act is so sexy yet desperate. hissing as you watched you intently through his long lashes, your lips hovering over the leaking tip before taking it gently into the warmth of your mouth. suckling it like your favorite flavored lollipop.
“goddamn, baby,” he stretches out his arms as a force of habit, ready to hold either side of your face so he can work his pretty cock in nice and easy. but he's irked the minute the chains clink on his wrist, remembering he's bound. he sighs out, fixing to say something until you remove one hand off his cock and massage his balls while taking him further down your mouth. working both hands simultaneously. saliva building, bubbles forming the quicker you bob your head and stroke his dick.
“yea, stroke it while you suck it. mm,” eren's eyes are scrolling back, thighs twitching as he lightly moves his hips as you gag and suck. releasing him with a wet pop, maintaining eye contact as you slick your puffy lips along the sides of his cock, darting your tongue out and moaning deeply. your ass moves in the air as if you're getting fucked from the back, rolling and rocking back. pussy sluice in your thin thong, needing him now more than ever. one more thing though, and it's his damn favorite.
“wait, baby. don't . . .” a gasp flees from his agape mouth as you nudge his balls with your tongue before sucking one of them into your mouth, keeping your rhythm stroking mostly the tip, spreading your fingers languidly, sticky with his precum and your spit. you know that's his sensitive area, the breaths leaving him frantic. you can feel the blood rushing in his cock, rotating your hand and sucking the heavy sack as the whimpers that vibrate in your throat travel to him.
“f-fuck, { name }. g’na cum. keep goin’.” the chains clank along the headboard as he struggles, spreading his legs even wider, his tummy sinking in as he buried his head into the pillow behind him. the ball in his neck protruding and you watch him, so in love, so intrigued . . . you stop. and he whines, which is the last thing you expected to hear from him. it's so needy that it makes your clit throb even harder.
“fuck!” he curses angrily, groaning with pain and pleasure stirring inside. his dick jumping for attention. “don't fuckin’ tease me baby, or i swear to god i'll fuck you sore.”
“yea, whatever,” you giggle, purposely pissing him off further. “you mad, daddy?” you pout, tone teasing. reclaiming your position previously as you hover above him, his jaw clenching, black painted nails balling into fists.
“you know i'm fuckin’ mad. stop playing, { name }.”
he's got a lot to say but he shuts up the instant you tug your lace thong to the side and reach behind yourself to sink slowly onto the tip. both hands lay flat on his stomach as you ease down, eren mumbling ‘slow, slow’ as you sink halfway down before riding back up. your nails dig into his skin briefly, the relief you receive maddening. it's such an easy fix when he's available. eyelids squeezed shut as you accommodate his size, the fire in your chest blazing.
“oh my god,” you suck on your lips, face screwed once you pick your pace, rising and dropping your ass effortlessly, like a mystical creature. your hips move like waves, grinding slow to feel him reach that spot within you, moaning and tossing your head to the side.
“so fuckin’ wet, baby. listen to you. listen,” eren’s eyebrows are knitted, jaw unlocked, completely entranced by the way you move, the two of you panting heavily, listening to your slick coat his dick lewdly. ass clapping onto his thighs you lean back to grab onto with one hand to balance yourself. cupping a handful of your tits and whimpering as you fuck him quicker.
“unh, if you could see what i see, baby,” eren chokes, rocking his waist with yours to heighten your pleasure. it felt so good to take control. “you look s’ good when you fuck me.”
“love how you feel inside me,” your juices drip down his balls and onto the sheets, squealing as you lean forward to angle your faces together, his hands reaching far enough to graze your hair and cheekbone. focusing on the look in your eyes as you steady yourself on the tips of your toes before slamming your ass down harder, the two of you gasping in sync. “fill me so fuckin’ good, baby.”
eren thinks it's so ironic how your lettered necklace dangles over his face, making a noise he's never made before, focusing on the silver swaying. now he gets how you feel when his chain swings over your face when he fucks a dent into the mattress shaping your silhouette. he's succumbing to you willingly, breath hitching from the euphoric roll and dip of your thick hips, wishing so badly he had access to grip and grind you down on his dick harder.
this position weakens you both, your knees buckling and his waist twitching. your voice quakes and you cum without warning him, flopping onto his chest as your hips stirred lazily. eren’s close yet again, can feel it but can't get to where he needs to be without you. he needed you to move.
“c’mon, princess. fuck me, lemme cum,” he sounds incredibly submissive, that whiny tone partaking his usual asshole demeanor. it was such a turn on seeing his face switching from grumpy to ‘please baby fuck me’. eyes low and seductive. begging sounded good on him.
you sit up, cupping either side of his face before kissing him. eren rushing the kiss meaning he's extra greedy for it. gliding his lips over your chin, groaning in your mouth and sliding his fat tongue over yours, a sloppy french kiss. your mind goes blank when you feel his tongue on your neck next, wishing it was between your legs right now. that thing is a demon. the way he fucks you with it makes your soul leave your body every time. he's a gift from the gods, truly.
“not yet.”
“not playing fair, baby,” eren clicks his teeth, bushy brows entwined to showcase his frustration. he's so cute when he's upset. “all i wanna do is touch you. why's that such an issue? if you're gonna fuck me, do it right.
you huff, knowing he's saying anything just so you'll unlock the cuffs. “talking too much, ‘ren.”
a dark glint is in his eyes, those jade irises no longer it's stunning bright shade. his voice becomes gravely as he says, “am i? that's cause i wanna lick your fuckin’ clit. n i can't do that properly without touching you. she's soakin’ all on me.”
“mmm, wanna put your mouth on my pussy?” your voice softens tauntingly, trailing your hand down your stomach to slowly roll your fingers over your engorged clit. eren’s mouth waters.
“yes,” he clenched his jaw. you're so goddamn infuriating.
“she needs more. i wanna stay full while you eat it.”
“i’ll put my fingers in it. you like those, baby, right?” his eyes go all big like a puppy. “taste you while i fuck you open. jus’ like you like it?”
as tempting as that sounded, again, he’s in no position to make demands. ignoring the way your tummy flutters from the delicious thought, you're back to fucking him nice and slow. overstimulating yourself and edging him. it's so painful he just wants to cum. he wouldn't necessarily consider this a gift. you've just gotten in your head and took advantage of the situation. but that's okay, ‘cause he's gonna fuck you sore like he said. your necklace hits his forehead, chest in his face as you clap back on his pulsating dick. sucking his fingers and squeaking unexpectedly, eyes widening as eren plants his feet into the bed and pistons his cock up into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.
“eren, wait. . .”
“shut the fuck up,” eren growls into your neck, fucking you as best he could with his restraint. your screams fill the air, unable to hold him still. there was no point. he was pissed off now and wanted nothing more than to fill you deep with his cum as punishment.
and for some reason you underestimate eren's strength, because in a matter of seconds he's yanking his right arm forward and breaking the cuff with just a blink of your eye. you can't even comprehend what the hell he just did because he's grabbing your neck and pining you beneath him to fuck you deeper. nothings processing in your brain but the sound of his thighs clapping with yours, the grunts from eren and your second orgasm shooting through you. arching your back into him, his hand constricting some air in your esophagus which only intensifies your pleasure.
“i hear you, mamas,” eren releases his grip on your neck just a little, pressing his nose to yours with a clenched jaw, his one arm hanging above you since it's still chained up. eren shifts his body slightly down yours to put your legs over his broad shoulders, slipping his dick back in and folding you in a mating press.
“this is what you get for fuckin’ with me,” the way he's fucking you has your toes cramping and your voice disappearing. you can't scream anymore, sounds of pleasure dying down to cries and whimpers, tiny figure compared to his jolting beneath him. eren’s whines are muffled by the pillow he buried his face into as he shoots his cum into you, filling you up warmly. his orgasm so overpowering he can't help but still fuck through it. wheezes and ragged breathing is all you could hear since you had zero energy to open your eyes.
throwing your arms around him to claw at his backside. eren’s still moving inside of you, your legs shaking the further he pins them down with his one hand after sitting up on his knees, looking down at you, long hair sticking to his fucked out face. he takes two of his slender fingers to tug down your bralette to retrieve the key you stored in there. freeing himself and tossing the cuffs somewhere in the room.
“cheap ass cuffs,” eren says, spanking the outside of your thigh. “gotta give it to you, i enjoyed that.”
you perch up on your elbows, happiness shadowing you. “really?!”
“just don't try that shit again. now lay on your stomach and lemme eat your pussy.”
☆. tags ; @poutsiez @angelktski @monirei @sailewhoremoon @taureanstargirl @moreclass @aichaaa @yoshimurah @slayy697 @xblackreadersupremacy @st4rslvtt @shamelesshoefairy
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© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life <3
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