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#she is literally sloshed
lesbx · 1 year
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my wifey drank way too fucking much and is currently in bed just groaning and moaning in agony. it sounds like shes already used the puke bucket i made for her. maybe twice
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readymades2002 · 11 days
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who even give a fuck. yknow
#getting drunk before work because who gives a shit ^_^d#yesterday was real fucking bad so im thinking like why am i even fucking trying you know none of these assholes even talk to me#unless its to go ermmmm i cant help noticing your department isnt achieving infinite growth when will you guys stop sucking#shit? just curious yhaha and if they want to talk about me they go behind my back and ask other people why im cutting#which a) i wear short sleeves this isnt a secret im keeping and 2) fuck you for deciding its your business and then NOT EVEN#ASKING /ME/ but whatever thy want to get pissy at me for their own failure to communicate fucking let them i dont care#ive been killing myself for this stupid job for a year now i wake up in the morning and my first thought is how bad my knee hurts#im one of the best we've got and what do i have to show for it no one fucking talks to me i dont care#no one will go 'hey did you get fucking sloshed before coming here' becaus etheyre scared of talking to m e for some reason#i literally dont know but if they ask then like who fucking cares this isnt on me i dont feel human doing this job i dont feel like a perso#no one treats me like one unless i waste time quote unquote to not do my job and talk to people who like care if i live or die or whatever#so like who fucking cares even ill do whatever i want ill get drunk before work ill do shit at my job ill talk to someone i love fuck it#whatever!!! should have acted like i was a person instead of ignoring the people youre throwing into a meatgrinder for profit i guess#who fucking cares!#already had my MOTHER get weird about me buyng booze for reasons that are none of her fucking business and that she#wouldnt know the details of anyway if she hadnt been snooping because i have no privacy and no space of my own lol#so might as well drink it i guess it was 30 bucks anyway and i dont have any fucking moneyyyyyyyy so what am i#who am i fucking KIDDINGGGGGGGGGG lol its fucked its all fucked!!! whatever!!! who give a shit!!! nothing fucking matters
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ganseythethrd · 2 months
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EEEE
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thesturniolos · 21 days
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make you mine ~ m.sturniolo x reader (she/her)
જ⁀➴. summary: i mean you know what they say, keep your friends close but always keep your enemies closer- just how much closer?
જ⁀➴. warnings: filthy smut, fingering, dumbification, degradation, praise, rope bunny, spitting, spanking (i’m sorry), dom!matt and sub!matt, jealousy, brat!reader, a little angsty (cause yk i fw that too much)
જ⁀➴. this is for @annamcdonalds67 challenge!! i will be basing this fic off of madison beer’s ‘make you mine’ !
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
‘i wanna lay you down, i wanna string you up, i wanna make
you mine.’
do you know that feeling when you’re drunk, so drunk that your mind feels like a fog? like a layer of cloud and mist has settled into the crevices of your brain, seeping into your every thought. a fog so powerful that it alters your visions and brings hidden secrets to the tip of your tongue, the kind of secrets that would change something, anything once and for all.
and in that moment, the feeling of freedom outweighs all the consequences of letting that secret out. slowly, my fogged brain pieces together to allow my hands to fiddle with the padlocks of the secret. to untie the tangled chains, to swivel the tiny little key around on the pads of my fingers, to push the blade into the hole in the chest.
and just like that, a secret sworn to never be spread dribbles down the edges of the box and every thought telling me, yelling actually, that what i’m about to do is wrong is etched away by a metaphorical marker and nothing will stop me from what i want to do and what i’m going to do.
the dizzying noise of a thousand people, some my friends, most of them random people you’d find at classic LA parties, is silenced by the sound of my beating heart and the blood pumping viciously around my body.
it’s the kind of passion that comes from envy, that comes from jealousy, that comes from resent so blinding that every step you take feels like it could break the marble floor underneath your feet. or that steam pushing out of your ears could be visible.
it’s the kind of jealousy that comes from seeing a person you care so deeply about in a corner with some bitch who knows nothing about him.
like- she doesn’t know what he likes and doesn’t like, she doesn’t know that he has three books by his bed and that one of them has her initials carved into the fourteenth page. she would never know that his own couch has an imprint from where my fucking ass sits everyday. like she wouldn’t know that their shared ‘hatred’ wasn’t actually real. just like how she doesn’t know that he is not on the market and she has absolutely no fucking place in the world to have her wretched bones on his skin.
you’d assume that in a situation like this time slows like a movie but it doesn’t. it speeds and i can’t keep track of anyone around me or what song is playing or even what drink is sloshing onto my hand from my cup. i just know exactly where it’s going to go though.
before i step foot into the beaming light of the kitchen, two hands grab my hips and swivel me around. two hands that won’t be there in a minute if they don’t leave my body.
im met with a pair of very similar eyes and i suddenly feel very guilty for thinking what i thought a second ago.
‘hey! where have you been all night? me and nick have been looking for you literally everywhere.’ chris’ eyes look concerned but his smile is still in full tact.
‘i’ve been talking to people, catching up-‘
‘did something happen? cause you know, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody’ he laughs, his hands leaving my hips and i brush the area off where he touched, holding my head high to hopefully hide the seeving look on my face.
‘just people liking to get up in my business, you know how it is. ‘ i nod, sipping from cup, immediately regretting because actually wtf is in it.
‘okay, well- me and nick were about to leave, we’re just tryna round you and matt up.’ my teeth clench together at the sound of his name.
‘yeah, i don’t know chris. i might go home later, feels like we only just got here!’
‘it’s literally 2am, we’ve been here 4 and half hours already-‘
“come on, chris! when do you ever get to go to a party as big as this? go find a girl or something- give yourself a good time!’ his eyebrows furrow and he shrugs his shoulders.
“i guess so-“
“you gotta get over that bitch ex of yours anyways, perhaps this could be your perfect time.” and with that, he was fully listening. his shoulders now standing upright and his posture as straight as possible.
“you’re right, y/n. oh, look- there’s matt! guess he’s already a step ahead of me and you.”
my head spirals around is quickly, i think i saw stars. big, white, angry shooting stars. the sight of his hands clenching onto her ass, pushing her against a kitchen counter. her dress slowly riding up her thighs, thanks to his legs prying them open.
and with that, something ticks inside me.
i’ve been jealous before. hell i’ve been the most jealous in the room. but have you ever been so jealous that a rack of knives looked appealing and the bat that hangs above the wall in the living room looked handy dandy to do the exact job you needed to?
why was it always the bitchiest of girls who all the guys hate -but apparently not so because she’s tugging on one of their dicks by saturday.
well guess what? two can play at that game, bitch.
i turn around to find a good looking guy, not so attractive that i could become attached but not ugly enough for me to be gagging when i run my hands along his dick.
‘you. come with me.” i gesture, my fingers curving in to lure him into me.
his brows furrow and he scoffs, “why?”
“cause i fucking said so, come with me.” i drag his hand and he turns back to look at this friends with a sudden bright smile.
our hands are clenched together as i pull him through a small crowd towards the kitchen. the urge to instantly jump on him to rile matt up is incredibly overwhelming but desperation isn’t always the best look on me.
my hand reaches for a red cup, filled with what looks like classic punch and i pour it down the sink to fill it up with straight vodka and hand it to him. “drink up, buttercup.”
his eyes widen but he obeys and i watch as he drinks every last sip, my fists clenching from the idea of what’s going on directly behind me.
“ngh’ matt-“ i hear the girl moan and my head twists to see his eyes glaring into mine whilst sucking red marks onto her neck.
i scoff and drag my guy closer to me, all whilst maintaining eye contact to lick a stripe up his neck and shove my right hand up his shirt to feel his torso. the guy did have toned abs, i could feel from how rock hard he was against my fingers but unlucky for him, i was completely and utterly distracted by the guy i hated so fucking much opposite me.
hate so pure that the sound of his name made goosebumps run down my neck and my blood bubble under my skin. my eyes would sting from the gaze of his eyes, my eyelids burning from refusing to shut. it was hate so pure that seeing a girl on his arm made my throat run dry and my words choke. the rings on my fingers digging into my palms and my teeth scratching against one another as i clenched my jaw to see the hickies scattered on his chest.
my tongue caresses the skin of his neck, latching over what i think is his sweet spot, as he moves his hands down my body. i smirk as i see matt latch onto the bitch’s figure tighter, desperate to outweigh whatever i was doing.
i look up at the guy and say, “do whatever you want to me, right here, right now.” his eyes light up and his breath halts slightly.
“but we’re in here with so many people-“
“i don’t care.” my head turning back to look at matt who is still looking at me, a grimacing smile speaking across my face which makes his brows furrow deeper into his skin.
the guy grabs my leg to push it onto his, my front up against him and he latches our mouths together, his tongue immediately creating a space between my lips to enter.
after a solid minute of awkwardly making out in front of what felt like 30 people, a hand pushes my leg down from the guys hip and grabs my hand to pull me away from the crowd.
i’d be stupid if i said i didn’t know it was matt, of course i knew it was him. after all, he knew i had full control over him even if we were just enemies.
sweating bodies collided with mine and i squeeze my body close together to avoid elbows to the face. my heels making me stumble a little, alcohol still running through my system.
i look down to find a step up a winding staircase, a classic LA mansion.
20 steps felt like half a lifetime as matt still desperately drags me up them, whispering incoherent, angry remarks under his breath. until finally he makes it to the top and barges through the first bedroom he sees.
i enter quickly after him, my hand falling to my side as he slams the door behind us. i didn’t have time to react before he pushes my shoulder into the wall behind me, digging his nails into my skin.
his eyes are practically black with anger, his eyebrows fallen to his eyelids yet a disgusting grin on his face. his tongue slides along his teeth, before he spits, ” what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”
“whatever you’re playing, i mean it’s only fair.” i squeak back, my breath a little taken away from the sudden collide with my back and the brick wall. and of course the incredibly small space between our lips and the fact that our noses are touching.
“that’s not how this works around here.”
“then how does it? you get to go around with every girl in our state and i sit in the background watching?” what was that even supposed to mean?
he removes a hand from my shoulder and shakes his head, “people around here know they can’t touch you. they just know that, sweetheart. i assumed you would too.”
“and you’re allowed to have that bitch all over you? tell me, matt. how is this really fucking fair?” his hand comes up to my throat to clench it, light enough so i’m not choking but hard enough so that i’m gagged, my head lifted up a little.
“because how else am i supposed to get you to fucking take notice that i want you.”
i furrow my eyebrows, i try to speak but he clenches harder and the words don’t form in my mouth.
“every girl i have i imagine it’s you, every time i’m fucking a girl i imagine it’s your pussy im in, i imagine it’s your lips that im sucking on.”
i look dead in his eyes, my lashes blurring my vision slightly, his hooded gaze mesmerising me as i take in his every word
“every mean comment i made and every remark you made back riled me up. i knew it, you knew it, everyone else fucking knew it. im fed up of this bullshit circle we’ve had going on- i need you to see that you’re mine. when i saw you and that bitch in the kitchen, i smiled because i knew i got you. i got you to the point where you fucking admitted to me that im in your brain, you want me just as much as i want you baby.”
his tongue pokes out to lick a strip along my lip, he stands back to look at me in such a vulnerable position. my legs squeezed together in my little black dress and his hand wrapped around my neck as i look up at him with teary eyes and a dumb little smile on my face. it was just all he had ever wanted.
his hand leaves my neck, reaching up to grab my jaw and push my lips against his. a messy, tongue-filled kiss. his tongue sucks onto mine and i moan into his mouth, my legs moving forward to push him backwards.
he hums into the kiss, moving his head to suck on my lips whilst treading towards the bed in which he eventually pulls us onto. my legs scramble to straddle his lap and loop my hands around his neck.
he pulls away to pull the straps of my dress down as i look into his eyes, if somebody had told me two years ago that i was straddling matt’s fucking lap i probably would’ve slapped you around the face.
“do you know how long i’ve wanted you baby?” he says, yanking down my black dress to reveal a lacy, practically see-through bra that pushes up my boobs to accentuate them especially for matt’s eyes.
i shake my head, my hands clasping onto the hairs on the nape of his neck.
“too fucking long.” he rips off my bra, my mouth wide from how easily he broke the fabric, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he launches forward to suck my hard, pointed nipples.
my head thrown back as i grind against his jean pants, desperate to relieve the feeling in between my thighs. the tent of his pants brushing roughly against my region making me pull his head closer into my tits.
he pulls away to stare up at me, already looking a little disheveled, as he chuckles slightly, “you’re so fucking needy, who knew a pretty baby with a mouth as big as yours could be so desperate for my cock?”
i whimper at the sound of his patronising voice, my hips moving faster as he speaks but the loss of the soft pad of his tongue of nipples making my eyes water a little.
he grabs my jaw to force me to look at him, his fore finger and his middle finger squeezing together closely as he pushes them towards my lips. “open up, slut.”
i open my mouth for him and he guides his fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck on them, my eyes slowly fluttering shut and i hum onto them, wishing it was something else.
the tent underneath me twitching even under all this fabric and the hands looped around his neck untie to slowly run down his torso all the way to the zip on his jeans.
“you want it all don’t you baby? you act so tough but really you’re just a whore for me and my dick. it’s not even been five minutes and you’re already scrambling to undo my pants. that’s it baby, let me use all your pretty parts.” i pull them down to reveal his wet boxers and his huge dick.
this man wasn’t just packing a couple inches, it was enough to bruise the back of my throat and my cervix. my eyes light up as i hold it through the cotton of his underwear, drool begging to leave my mouth.
he leans back slowly, his elbows digging into the plush mattress underneath of us as he guides me closer towards his cock, pushing away stray hairs that curl around the frame of my face.
i pull down his boxers for his dick bounce straight up and hit his stomach, pre cum leaking from his bright red, swollen tip. and i hungrily scramble to grab hold of it, his words replaying in my head, i’m just a whore for him.
my hands smooth the veins along the bottom of his dick, slowly making my way up to kiss his oozing tip and i feel his body shudder underneath me. without a second thought, i shove his tip in my mouth and suck his cum off. my mouth hollows and i move my head up and down, determined to get some noise out of his pretty mouth.
“that’s it pretty girl, just like that- mmm” his head is thrown back and his hands come round to cradle my head, pushing me further onto his dick.
i moan which sends vibrations down his cock, his tip growing in my mouth as i swirl my tongue around it, the gagging sounds echoing in the room, riling matt up more and more.
“fucking take it all baby- oh fuck, i know you can” he winces out, the grip on my hair tightening and i smile against the girth of his dick doing exactly what he says, hollowing my mouth and sucking all the way to his bone. his hips shove up to hit the back of my throat and my eyes flutter shut, the full feeling in my throat overwhelming me.
he guides my head by bobbing my head up and down in time with his hip thrusts, the sounds of my gargling getting progressively louder as he becomes more determined to cum down my throat.
a sudden halt to his erotic sounds, i feel my head being pulled up, a ‘pop’ sound coming from my mouth from the sudden loss of his dick in my throat. he laughs, smoothing my cheek with his thumb before gently slapping it and grabbing my chin so i look at him.
“you gonna let me make you feel good?” i frantically nod my head, the heat between my legs practically burning a hole thru my panties now.
“that’s my girl, you’re mine. aren’t you?” i nod and he tuts, “ use your words.”
“i’m yours.” and that’s all he needed before he picks me up like i’m a fucking feather weighing nothing more than a couple pounds and throws me onto the bed whilst he twists around to stand up off the bed, looking down at me.
“you know it, my little slut.” he pulls down my dress finally, he didn’t get to finish underdressing me cause the idea of finally tasting him was too much. but now that i can feel the cold air hitting the most private of places and his glare blazing up and down my body, i feel shy.
my elbows hover over my boobs as i try and scrunch up a little but matt’s hands pry them away and he spreads my legs before discarding my little black dress on the floor, i’m only left with my matching lace panties.
he licks his lips, his glare fixating on the wet patch created on my underwear, just for him. as he holds my thighs apart, he blows gently onto the fabric making it instantly cold and i shift up the bed a little, whimpering.
“this all for me, baby?” he looks up at me, caressing my thighs gently. the cold metal of his rings making my goosebumps more and more apparent.
“mhm.” my eyes flutter shut and i push against the force of matt’s hands, becoming increasingly desperate for any kind of pressure on my pussy. “please.”
“please what?” he smirks, his touch on my thighs now so light you wouldn’t even believe it was there. it was another level of teasing that made the core of your very stomach fuzzy and the lack of any touch adds to the sick feeling you have.
“just do something, anything.” he snaps when i say that, flipping me around quickly so that my body slaps against the mattress, my ass on full show to him, my thing not doing much too cover my the cheeks of my ass.
“i wanna feel the rush, i wanna taste the crush, i wanna get you going.”
the sharp sting of fabric ripping against my delicate skin and sudden gasp mixed with the breaking of sweet lace makes matt chuckle in the background before placing a harsh slap to my ass, sending me into the air as it was so unexpected.
“you gonna be good for me?” he smooths over where he slapped, secretly wishing it will make a bruise.
“yes, yes i’ll be good.” i beg, wanting literally anything.
as his fingers move closer towards my wetness, he suddenly moves away quickly before getting up and searching the room.
i look up and frown, “what the fuck are you doing?” i whisper a little, upset that he looks like he’s about to leave.
he doesn’t say anything but pauses once he gets to the drawer in the closet and laughs before turning around to reveal a belt.
“what are you doing? this isn’t even your room.” i say, relaxing yet still confused.
he walks over to me and forces my chin up at him, “keep speaking in that bratty fucking tone and i will leave you high and dry”
“well you won’t even let me get high so what effect is that gonna have-“ before i could finish my sentence he covers my mouth with one hand and uses the other to turn me around so my head is shoved into the pillows of the bed. he scrambles to grab my hands, pushing them against my back and fiddling with the belt.
“just you fucking wait and see, little angel.” he twists them around my wrists and tightens them so i can’t get out without any help.
his hands letting going of mine before i feel them suddenly exactly where i need them. a singular finger pressing down onto my bundle of nerves and my whole body jumps with just a simple touch, a pornographic moan leaving my mouth.
“does that feel good baby” i whimper back a desperate ‘yes’ and wriggle against the pad of his finger wanting him to move oh, so badly.
“want me to move my hand, darling?” i nod my head frantically hoping he can see me which i gather he can considering the low laugh that leaves his mouth and the sudden movement of his finger dragging down slowly through my folds.
“you want me here?”
“yes, yes. i want you there. i want you to move.”
“you want me to move?”
“please.”
“there it is.” and with that, the gentle movements turned into quick, hard thrusts. his two fingers sliding through my hole at an insane pace, not letting me readjust for one second, making my whole body lift from the bed, my hands shaking in the belt he tied me up in.
the cold metal of his rings mixing with the warm wetness coating his fingers, the sensation was immense. all before he flips me over and presses his mouth onto my clip sending me into fucking sub space.
“oh my fucking god! matt-“
he licks and kisses at my clit at a gentle pace all while his fingers strum in and out of my hole at an alarming speed, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have arm cramp even after one minute.
my ass doesn’t stay on the bed and my whole body is jittering at the sudden overwhelming sensation. the flicks of his tongue and the curving of his fingers making sure he hits my sweet spots makes the bundle in my stomach tighten up.
“please matt, i’m gonna cum!”
he carries on, his feasting at my pussy getting progressively more intense, like a starved man. he enters another finger into my hole, stretching me perfectly so that i am shaped for him.
he breathes against my heat, “let go, baby.”
and with that, i did. sweat running from my back and forehead, my tied hands desperately grabbing onto the leather and my toes clenching over his shoulders.
he licks me clean, pressing one last kiss to my clit which makes me jolt as he laughs a little to himself seeing my messy figure on the bed.
“you did so well, baby.” i smile at him, his head coming close to mine to kiss my lips.
“now you gonna help me out sweetheart?”
i nod and he turns me around to take me out of the tied belts and he kisses the red marks from where i pulled against the restraint. “you liked these?” i shake my head and he laughs.
i pull myself up from the bed and onto matt’s lap to face him, i latch my lips onto his and hook my hands around his neck pulling him closer to me. my naked body fitting perfectly around his warm body.
he moves his hands down my body, caressing my curves and humming against our kiss as i pull away and look down to stroke his dick to which he kisses and pulls himself into my neck.
i move myself up his body to push myself down onto his hard shaft, as he winces and throws his head backwards, moaning my name.
i pull at his hairs and rock my hips against him and watch his demeanour change as his hips desperately rutt against mine and i forcefully push my hands onto his thighs so that he’s restricted.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he groans as my grinding against him slows.
“taking control.” his eyes widen and i push myself up further so that i can plunge further onto his dick. my nails digging into his thighs as i watch his breathing get faster and moans leave his mouth.
“that’s not - ngh- how it works.” he argues with me which doesn’t last for long when i start to kiss his neck and suck on the lobes of ears in which his thrusts up into me become more persistent.
“i’m gonna cum-“
“not until i cum.” i say, chasing my high with him as i hear him whine into my ear, panting a little too.
“please, just let me.” he hugs me closer, my boobs crushed against his chest as he begins to rocks back and forth with me, moaning and groaning with his head in the air. so much for tough guy, huh?
“cum with me.” i bounce up and down as he thrusts up into me for the last time before releasing his cum, painting my walls as it oozes out of me as i collapse onto the bed next to us.
our heavy breathing and hearts beating is the only thing that can be heard.
matt’s hand slowly moves to bring me closer to him, i smile as i look up at his tired state.
“you changed quickly, mr tough guy to oh please! please, let me cum! “ he shakes his head and covers my mouth.
“shut up, you wouldn’t fucking let me .”
i laugh at him and he picks me up to squeeze me, so much for being enemies, huh?
“so-“
“you’re mine now right? like for real?” he’s not looking at me, rather picking at his nails.
i giggle and press my head against his forehead and nod, “of course.”
hope you all liked !! too many fucking words :)
tags: @wisteral @evieolo @ev3rgreenxtrees @estelleswrld @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @urfavstromboli @obscurechris @poopydroopt @plasticferal @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @m4ttslvr @mattandmilds @muwapsturniolo @mattsgirlfriendlol @kirby0strombolli @kvtie2 @kikisturnioloo @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @sturniolosstar @sturniolossmut @mattslolita @zooweemamas @chrattenthusiast @chrissgirlsstuff @bernardsbendystraws @ducksturniolo @dsturniolo @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @nicksmainbitch @noellesturniolo @yurtrrrr @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months
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Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader
Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?
Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.
Word count: 7k.
Warnings: Some injury detail.
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“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”
Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.
Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.
Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.
“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”
“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”
“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”
“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”
“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.
He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.
Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.
He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.
Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?
He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.
“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”
Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”
“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”
“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”
“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”
“I’m not saying that, Az—”
“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”
“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”
“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”
“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”
Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.
He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.
And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”
“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”
Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”
“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”
Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.
“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”
As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”
That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.
Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”
Az says again, “Fuck you.”
Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”
“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.
“Where are you going?” Az asks.
“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”
He has no idea how right he is.
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It starts with the fire going out. Always.
The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.
You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.
Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.
Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.
Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.
But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.
“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.
“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”
It.
“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”
“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”
You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.
Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”
The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”
You do not move.
“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”
They laugh at that.
You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”
He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.
“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”
If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.
“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”
“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”
There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.
“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”
You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.
You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.
You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.
“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”
And then they begin hacking at your wings.
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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.
You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.
The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.
“Will she live?” Your father asks.
“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”
“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”
“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”
“I will do with my child as I see fit.”
“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”
Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”
“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”
Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.
Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”
No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.
You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.
Bury the body.
Bury the body.
Bury the—
Your body lurches up.
Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.
The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.
They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.
You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.
“You were shouting in your sleep again.”
You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.
“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”
“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”
“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”
Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.
The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.
“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”
Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—
“I’m going, I’m going.”
The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.
Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.
Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”
“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”
“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”
She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.
“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”
She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”
You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.
Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.
And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.
But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.
You need to be away from them. To be on your own.
“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”
The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”
“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”
“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”
“Of course I will.” No.
She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.
But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.
“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”
“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”
She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.
You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.
You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.
So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.
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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.
The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.
He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—
“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”
Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.
Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”
Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.
The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.
See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.
Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.
It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.
It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.
Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.
“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”
Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”
There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”
At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.
“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”
“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.
It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.
But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.
Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”
No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.
He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”
He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.
Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”
“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.
Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”
“Listen, Cassian—”
“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”
All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.
All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.
But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.
She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.
“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”
Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.
Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.
“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”
Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”
Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.
“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”
“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.
Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.
“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”
True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.
She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.
So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?
This is fucking ridiculous.
She can’t be left to live like this.
“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”
Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.
Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”
Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.
“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”
Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”
“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”
The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.
But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.
“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.
She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.
“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”
Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”
“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”
Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.
But Az seems oblivious.
“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”
“She wouldn’t—”
“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.
Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”
Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”
Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”
“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”
“Cassian, that is enough—”
“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”
Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.
“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.
He barks a laugh. “No chance.”
“Kaeda just said she’d help—”
“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”
Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—
“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”
Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”
“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.
Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”
Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.
Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.
And then there were two.
Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.
“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”
A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”
“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”
Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.
“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”
She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.
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This is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.
This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.
You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.
And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?
These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.
You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.
You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.
No.
You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—
But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.
“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”
If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”
“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”
But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.
“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.
But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.
Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”
“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.
“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”
You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”
“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”
You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”
“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”
“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”
He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”
“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”
“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”
You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”
“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Why?”
“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”
It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.
Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”
“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”
Azriel stops short. Stares at you.
You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.
You’re not sure you can do that anymore.
Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”
“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”
Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.
You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.
And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.
“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”
You fold your arms. “Fine.”
“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”
“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”
“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”
You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.
So you say nothing. You just shrug again.
He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.
You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.
And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”
He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.
And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.
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azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd
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bandgie · 2 months
Text
On Your Knees
ONE | TWO
incel!Seungmin x fem!reader
warnings! MDNI18+, drinking implications (no one is drunk) dubious??, pussy eating, face fucking (m!), hate sex (but no sex) seungmin is an ass (low key misogynistic), reader is kinda mean note! this is not meant to represent Seungmin or any of the members in any way. I just like the trope :)
2.7k words
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The party was getting boring in all honesty. Truth-or-Dare is only fun for the first couple of minutes but gets repetitive. Same old questions on who you're fucking, if you're fucking someone, if you've ever fucked someone. The flat beer sloshes in your red solo cup as you sit on the floor of the living room.
You can tell Han is trying to come up with something interesting to ask Seungmin. Most of the somewhat funny questions were already asked, but Han still purses his lips as he thinks of something clever. 
"Okay, I got it!" He claps his hands. "Best pussy you've ever eaten. Go."
Ah, I guess that's something, you think as you divert your attention to the cross-legged man beside you. 
Seungmin is awfully quiet at house parties and looks as though he would rather be anywhere else. You don't like Seungmin, but you don't not like him. He's just a guy Han likes to bring around on occasion. You observe Seungmin raise an eyebrow, in surprise most likely. But what he says is even more shocking. 
"Never eaten pussy."
"What?!" Everyone collectively shouts at his admission. Now this peaks your interest as you stare wide-eyed at him. "No way," you can't fathom the thought of someone in college never tasting a cunt. "Are you a virgin?"
Your bold question makes Chan choke on his drink, coughing until the bitter liquid finally passes through. "Jeez dude, you just can't ask that."
"It's literally Truth-or-Dare. I literally can," you retort. 
The clamor of everyone settles as they wait for Seungmin to answer. Now that he can feel the pressure of everyone's eyes, he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "I'm not a virgin," he says. "I just don't eat pussy."
"What the fuck?" You make a confused expression. "You don't eat pussy? Fuck does that mean?" Seungmin finally casts his gaze on you, acknowledging your presence for the first time tonight. "Exactly what I mean. I don't like it."
"You don't like it?" Han sounds exasperated. "You gotta be fucking with me. There's no way you fuck a girl and not want to eat her pussy." Despite Han being an idiot half the time, you agree with him. Every guy you've hooked up with jumps at the chance to eat you out and you know plenty of them would do it for nothing in exchange. 
To meet a guy who's never had the opportunity to only means two things, and you're praying it's not what you're thinking. 
"I just fuck to cum. I don't really care if she finishes or not."
It's worse than you could have imagined. 
The room goes dead quiet and you suddenly figure out why Han doesn't bring Seungmin around too often. His stiff posture, his blank expression, the way he hardly regards you in any manner. It all points to signs of the worst type of man. 
"So like what?" You can't help the clipped tone in your voice. "You some type of incel?"
Chan, who likes to keep the peace, says your name in warning. "Don't start." Though he means well, the fact that you're the one getting in trouble for speaking up only fuels your fire. "Don't start? He's the one who started with his dumb incel shit."
Seungmin scowls, "Ugh. I didn't even say anything bad. You're being so emotional."
The tips of your ears burn red and you feel your entire body heat up. You can hear Chan trying to diffuse the situation, but you hardly care about maintaining 'the peace' any longer. 
"Oh, fuck off," you sneer at Seungmin. "You can't even make a girl finish. Fucking incel virgin."
Now that does it for him. You see Seungmin tighten his hands into fists as his neck grows red. "I'm not a virgin. And I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to." He enunciates his words harshly, some speckles of spit landing on your face. Both of your jaws are tense, teeth clenching as you glare into each other's eyes.
A vein sticks from his neck and his lips are stretched back into somewhat of a snarl. With a flushed expression, you easily see his cheeks heat up in anger. It's here that you realize he looks good when he's mad. You hate it.
"Okaayyy!" Chan claps his hands three times loudly. "I think it's time to call it a night." Everyone tries to stand and talk about anything else, but Seungmin and you are too busy having your own little conversation to notice. 
"Never eaten pussy, can't make a girl come. Why you lying about being a virgin?" You mimic the vicious on Seungmin's face. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, "Whoring yourself out for a fuck. You're everything that's wrong with women today." 
This makes you laugh, "At least they make me cum."
If you thought Seungmin was mad before, he's furious now. You must have struck a nerve because he stands suddenly and spins on his heel to leave. 
But you're not done with the conversation. You raise on your feet and follow him, never ceasing to stop your vicious spewing, "Just be honest with me, Min. It's okay to have never felt a woman's touch. Not that you ever will, being an incel that is."
Seungmin hurries up the stairs of the house with you on his tail. You can't see his face, but you can feel the anger rolling off him. 
He suddenly stops in his tracks, making you effectively bump into his back. "I'm not an incel," he keeps his voice low, but strong. "Eating pussy isn't even all that. You just have an ego bigger than your tits."
You try and play it off with a scoff, but you feel your face heat up. You grope your chest offendedly; you like your boobs. "Not all that? Come here." Pushing on Seungmin's back, you lead him to the nearby bathroom and shove him inside. He stumbles and trips over his feet, shooting a hand out to balance himself on the counter as you close and lock the door behind you.
"Fuck was that for?" He whips his head around to glare at you, but he's surprised to be met with an eerie smile on your face instead. He gulps nervously, "What are you looking at?"
You shrug nonchalantly, "Looking at someone who's going to eat me out." Seungmin looks as though you've slapped him across the face as his eyes widen. "What? Who said I was gonna do that?" 
You're already hiking your skirt up to your torso, biting the cloth between your teeth, and showing the pretty little thong you put on in hopes of a hookup. It barely manages to over your clit and you can see the outline of your pussy underneath the material. With one hand, you use the tip of your finger to draw soft circles on it. Seungmin drops his eyes to your clothed core.
His Adam apple bobs.
"Come on," you wiggle your eyebrows playfully. "Get on your knees for me."
For a second, you think he's gonna walk out. He was so persistent about not wanting to eat pussy and his shitty attitude was...well...shitty. You begin to think that there's no hope for Seungmin, but he proves you wrong by bending one knee and looking up at you.
"I'm just going to look," he says more to himself than to you. "Just so you could stop your whining." 
His hands grip the plushness of your thighs as he stretches the skin. The lips of your pussy peek out at the movement, but Seungmin is far from disgusted. His ears pick up on the sound your cunt makes when he uses his thumb to pull and push the skin together. Slowly, he moves his hand up to pull your thong down, exposing the very thing he claims to revolt against. 
You shiver against his warm breath, his warm touch. You reach your hands down to pull up on the skin of your pelvis to further stretch your pussy. "Getting a good look, Seungmin?" You giggle at the annoyed expression on his face. His lips may be pulled pursed into a frown, but his eyes are wide with lust.
Seungmin is trying his best to hold back, but it's near impossible. Everything about you surrounds him: your smell, your soft skin, the way your voice echoes in the bathroom. He shocks himself with how much he enjoys watching your clit peek from your pussy lips and how the first signs of arousal make your entire cunt shine. 
"Shut up," he mumbles. 
You're thinking of a witty remark to snap at him, but you're instead pleasantly surprised with his lips ghosting over your core. Your body stills, letting Seungmin explore pussy on his tongue for the first time. He runs his lips over your own, feeling how soft and warm it is. Seungmin already knew how hot a cunt is, but tasting it on his lips is a whole other level of heat.
"Mmm," you hum at the sensation. "What happened to just getting a look?" 
Seungmin looks up at you, mouth still attached to your core. His nose bumps on your lower stomach with his hair tousled over his face. Before you can think, you brush the bangs from his face to get a good view of his form. The sight makes you groan, bucking your hips further into his face. Seungmin makes a hmmf! sound as you bury his face deeper into your pussy, but he makes no move to deny you.
It's not until you start rocking your hips that he finally sticks his tongue out. He starts at the peak of your pussy, letting the nub roll over his tongue experimentally. Seungmin notes how your legs shake when he does that. He feels your hips still so he could properly suck on that part of your cunt. 
The taste of you settles on Seungmin's tastebuds and he finds his tongue digging deeper into your lips. They dip down to your labia before going back up. He likes how soaked you make his wet tongue, how your hands twist his floppy hair to drive him deeper. He hates how much he likes it. 
Truthfully, you're in the same boat. His mouth may not be experienced, but you upsettingly like how he lets you ride his face. "See Sungie?" You say his name mockingly. "Not too bad, is it?"
Seungmin doesn't stay put in your cunt. This time, he pulls away from your throbbing core to talk back. "I never said it was goo- mmf!" As lovely as it would have been to hear his voice, you reason that his words may not have been as nice. You had gripped the back of his head and forced him back to your center, uncaring how he gently slapped the back of your thighs in disapproval.
"Just shut up and stick your tongue out." You're impatient needless to say. Seungmin can tell by how you keep one hand steady on his head while the other gives his cheek light taps. "Open up, come on." You probe the man between your legs until he finally relents, widening his jaw so your entire clit fits in his mouth.
You hum at his mouth taking your core in, "Good boy. See? You were made to eat pussy."
Then you hook one of your thighs over his shoulder and wrap that leg around his body until his face is pushed against you. His eyes widen, screaming at you as if saying this wasn't part of the deal! But the panic only makes you laugh. He can pretend all he wants, but you know the bulge in his pants all too well as you look down on him.
Grinding on his face is easy with you in complete control. You sloppily rub your cunt all over his tongue with his head following your movements. Seungmin groans and grunts in your cunt, but it's far from the disdain he was filled with earlier. His hips thrust into the air at the feel of your essence dripping down his chin.
His jolts make you chuckle breathlessly. "Fuck, just look at you. You wanna cum? You wanna cum, don't you?"
Screw his pride, screw any stupid podcast he's watched, he needs to cum. He wants to feel your pussy clench on his cock, not his tongue. Yet, he can't find it in himself to tear himself away from your clit. If you taste this good already, he can't imagine the savor of you creaming on his tongue. 
To not let a second go by without his mouth on you, he nods, looking up at you pleadingly. He's sorry for being a dick, for being an incel. If you let him finish in you, he'll never-
"Sucks to suck," you shatter his dream. "You're gonna make me cum. Don't move."
And he doesn't, but it's not because he means to obey you. You have Seungmin on his knees, mouth enclosing over your pussy while you tug on his hair and hump his face and you're not going to let him finish? At all?
Then there's no point of him being here. Seungmin should tear your grip off him and leave the bathroom, but he can't. Fuck, he can't. It's like you've put a curse on him, glued him to the floor with his jaw unhinged and tongue out as you grind on his face. 
It has to be witchcraft because why else would he still be here? Does he really like the taste of you that much? Maybe it's how you look; flushed, sweaty, close to a high Seungmin's never been able to bring a girl to. Seeing you so close to your orgasm makes him eager to stay, eager to please. And god, he loves how your clit twitches in his mouth.
"Shit," you curse. "Gonna cum. Imma cum all over your face. You want that? Want my cream all over your tongue?"
Seungmin would rather die than tell you the truth, so he responds by sucking harshly on your clit. The suction is enough to tip you over the edge, digging your nails into his scalp as you bend the upper half of your body over him. 
Your cunt pluses around nothing, but that hardly matters when you hear Seungmin gulping down your release. The very same man who claims to not like eating pussy, to not care if his partner finishes. That man eagerly licking you clean with his eyes rolling behind his head. 
You shiver and mewl as you cum, softly grinding your hips to come down from your high. "God- fuck! Put your tongue in my pussy."
He does, finally getting a feel of your walls for the first time. They squeeze and pulse around his tongue and he gives a few testing thrusts that you respond to positively. 
Fuck, you taste even better inside. 
Seungmin can't stop fucking his tongue deep inside you. Not even as you wrap your leg from him and straighten up. A part of you debates on whether or not to let him keep going. At this rate, he might make you finish a second time, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of that. Plus, you've been gone long enough for the other men to question your whereabouts.
You place the palm of your hand on his forehead and push him away. The shove makes him detach from your cunt with a lewd pop! as he catches himself backward on his hands.
"Geez. You're gonna lick it off," you pick your underwear up and step through the leg holes, ignoring how uncomfortable it feels on your sensitive cunt. Seungmin seems in a daze as you drop your skirt from your lips and adjust the material. Even as you walk closer to the mirror and touch up your make-up, Seungmin stays in place on the ground. 
He liked it. Dear god, he loved it. Even with the tent in his pants, he hardly seems to notice how his cock throbs when he can still taste you on his lips. You only face-fucked him to prove a point, but you changed the trajectory of his life forever.
Yet, you wash your hands and use a hand towel to dry yourself like you didn't just make Seungmin question his entire purpose. You throw the rag to the man on his knees, managing to land it on his lap. "Your face is soaked. Clean it before they see how much of a munch you are, yeah?"
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a/n: idk why I was at work was thought "yk what would be hot? making an incel seungmin worship you" and boom, this was birthed. I kinda wanna make a part two I have ideeassss also two fics in one week?? who am I? thank you for reading!
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cozymaples · 5 months
Text
total eclipse (steve harrington x reader)
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a/n: ohhh man. this is a long one, but do i have a treat for you. with the weather getting colder i just...could not contain myself !!! brain go brrrr. literally! | (tags: @madtheivery) warnings: afab!reader, virgin!reader, friends to lovers, oral!f receiving, fingering word count: 3.4k
Steve doesn’t like you.
That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Because if he lies to himself this way, it’s half true. He loves you. He’s not sure which is harder to ignore-the strain of his cock in his jeans whenever he sees you, or the way his heart feels like it’s going to pummel out of his chest when you leave. So now, he’s been at this party for far too long, marinating between a sea of bodies that he can’t seem to push through; only to try and find you. 
You’re making it difficult, though-lodged into the side of your boyfriend. Well, sort-of-boyfriend.
His hand rests firmly on your shoulder, the cheering and hollering of his winning cup in beer pong only tugging you further into him. You smile uncomfortably, jostled around as he earns slaps on the back and high-fives from his teammates. 
Steve can only watch from afar, finally parting through the sea of people. He sighs to himself amongst the ruckus, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before rubbing his temples. It’s subtle, but you notice. What’s better-the fact that your boyfriend doesn’t seem to. To ease any suspicions of him checking in on you, he keeps Robin glued to his side at all times. Though, it’s an equal split down the middle of eagerness to accompany the other. The pair hardly went anywhere alone, and you think it’s kind of sweet. Robin clearly needs Steve’s help of being a ‘ladies man’, and Steve clearly needs Robin’s help for the opposite. Which is why she tugs at his sleeve, tsk-ing before sighing loudly. Steve clears his throat, an immediate turn of the heel as he looks at her. He gestures defensively to the scene in front of him, before raking his fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t gonna say anything-” He starts. “Yeah, that’s the problem, Harrington!” Robin whines, verbally smacking the back of his head. “Wake up! You seriously think she looks happy to be with that beast?” Steve averts his gaze from Robin once more, glancing over his shoulder to look at you. He thinks Robin’s choice of word beast is harsh, but as he watches you get tugged around through second-party celebration, he can’t help but agree. 
“No!” He whines, finally succumbing to Robin’s antics. “Okay? No! Of course she’s not!” He sighs with defeat, running his fingers through his hair again, brows scrunched with frustration. Robin chuckles, “Jesus, that hair is like a stress ball for you, huh?” He narrows his gaze, paired with an eye roll as he indulges in her amusement. “Yeah, yeah. Alright. What’s your point?” He asks. But he knows what her point is. Her point is-”That you need to tell her! You could be changing lives, Harrington! Think about it,” She starts, and he groans, accepting the speech that’s about to come. “You could love her, I mean, really cherish her,” She says, and she’s not wrong. Her arm snakes over his shoulder, pulling him closer to her. Her spare hand nurses a red solo cup, the drink sloshing against the sides as she uses her hand to gesture. “I mean, he’s gonna make her a trophy wife. And you know what happens to trophies, Steve?” He’s not sure where she’s going with this, but he humors her anyway. It’s as if she can hear his brows raise with curiosity, immediately continuing. “They get left on shelves, Harrington. Filled with lonesome and littered with dust, too damn useless now to remember what they were good for in the first place!” She finishes. His eyes widen. 
Shit. 
He can’t believe that Robin’s analogy has not only made sense, but now kicked his ass into high gear. A trophy? A trophy? Not on his watch. Not to be collected by dust, or gawked at by others. No. Not you. He decides, not realizing he’s made his way across the room, now standing directly in front of you. Your “boyfriend” has now parted from your side, and your brows raise with curiosity, but also surprise. “Hey..” You say, wondering if Steve even knows where he is, considering you haven’t spoken in two months. “Hey,” He retorts nervously, nodding once. “So, uh..where’s your boyfriend?” He asks. You chuckle at the notion, but you can’t really blame him for wondering. “He’s not my boyfriend.” You say, and Steve gets that look in his eye-the one that only surfaces when he’s genuinely surprised. You hold eye contact for a minute, gazes locked on each other as his features soften. “Oh.” He says, and there’s no snark to it. You can tell he wants further clarification, but minds his manners, which you love about him. 
Unbeknownst to him, the ‘love’ thing going on was definitely a two way street. And now, for the first time, you don’t want him to think it’s a dead end for him. Not a second longer. “He hasn’t been..ever.” You say, and as the words tumble out of your mouth, you hear the truth in them for the first time. They hold weight now, standing in front of Steve, whose eyes haven’t left you for a second. Your back is firm against the wall behind you, the bustling of partygoers that had once swarmed you now sounding like white noise. “We were just..” You shrug, sheepish of the words you want to say. “..Fucking.” You say, quickly clarifying as his eyes widen with despondency. “But not actually-I mean, that’s what he tells people.” You’re fully engrossed in it now, the regret and disgust enveloping you in an embrace that you don’t want. “Never exclusive, considering he was fucking half of the cheerleaders,” You say, knowing that you trust Chrissy as your source. “I just..didn’t wanna go all the way. Not with him.” You decide that’s enough rambling, sparing him the details of what you did to compromise in place of sex. Steve extends his hand, an offering he’s hoping, pleading silently that you’ll take. You know if you take it, this is the end of everything you’ve known, and the start of everything you want. “Come with me,” He asks, voice soft, tender. “Please,”
And that’s how you’ve ended up sitting in the backseat of Steve’s BMW, filling him in on the past two months. “I was just..settling. I knew what I wanted, but..I just didn’t think to take it.” You confess, feeling every thump of your heartbeat ripping through your chest. It aches, yearning for the man in front of you. The silence between sentences is heavy, both of you terrified to spill to the other-terrified that if you speak now, it’ll all be for nothing. That it won’t be the same. “What did you want?” Steve asks, clinging to every word you say as though it’s oxygen itself. You feel a lump rise in your throat, threatening to tear out if you don’t speak now. Steve hasn’t touched you, not laid a hand on you this entire conversation. “You.” You exhale,, the years of everything you could ever want to say to him now fastened into a single word. Your heart rate increases rapidly, and you feel like you’re going to pass out if he doesn’t say something. The bellowing of drunken teenagers belting Total Eclipse of the Heart escapes from the four walls of the house, despite the fact that Steve’s got you parked halfway down the street. “Me?” He asks, hoping, praying that you mean it. You swallow harshly, nodding. “You.” You confirm, terrified that years of friendship on the invisible string you’ve tied between the two of you, sealed by fate itself, will snap. Wondering now more than ever if you’ve somehow misinterpreted every interaction between the two of you; every lingering gaze, every comforting shoulder he gave you cry on. Steve rushes his palm to your cheek, cupping your face as he presses his lips to yours. It’s deep, and tender, like you’ve allowed him to finally breathe again, as though he never has before in his entire life. 
“God,” He breathes, murmuring the phrase against your lips. “I love you,” He says, and it punches the air out of your lungs. The teenagers continue their belting. “I love you,” You confess, and it bursts out of you, finally able to say what you’ve been dying to say for years. Your ‘I love you’s’ tumble out of both of you, overlapping between the kisses he’s pressing to you, over and over, and over. The soft giggling that you share between the two of you is innocent, nearly in disbelief that this kind of happiness can possibly be real. Your lips are swollen, cherried red from the amount of kisses he’s graced you with. His hand rakes through your locks, and you lean into the touch, gazing up at him dreamily. 
“Be with me.” He says. You stare back at him. “Be with me,” He repeats, his thumb stroking your cheek. You sit in disbelief. “Yes,” You say, terrified. He can sense your nerves, soothing you with a gentle kiss. “M’not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.” He assures you, gently tilting your head to the side by your jaw. “Now that I’ve got you,” He says, spoken between kisses. They line your jaw, traveling down your neck. “I love you so bad,” He coos, and you sigh with satisfaction. You wish his kisses lingered longer, feeling your stomach flip with lust-but you don’t want to ruin the moment. Don’t want him to think of you the way other guys have. “Always have,” He continues. You try to ignore the warmth in the pit of your stomach, yearning for his touch. It’s as if he reads your mind, continuing to cradle your jaw in his palm as he sucks gentle marks into the flesh of your neck. “Is this okay?” He asks, earning a soft moan from you. “Uh-huh,” You breathe, and he pauses. “Yes,” You assure him, and he continues. 
Steve, too, doesn’t want to treat you like any other man has. He never will. He’ll treat you better. The best. He knows it. Now, all he needs to do is show you. You take his free hand, slowly guiding it to your knee. It’s bare, your skirt hiked up from the way you’re angled in the backseat. He pulls back to look at you, pupils widened, hesitant. “Wanna take it slow,” He says, and you sigh. “Wanna take care of you.” He says, rubbing gentle circles into your knee. You don’t know what to say, or how to say what you want to. But you figure this is your chance to prove to him that you don’t want it to be like every other guy. He’s special. “You know how I told you that..nothing ever happened, between me and him?” He nods, humming softly. “It’s..never happened. Not with anyone.” His thumb halts, the circles he’d been tracing now stopping in their tracks as the silence lingers between you, the hum of the running engine in the background. Steve’s not an asshole-not one of those guys who obsesses over virginity, “deflowering” whoever they get their hands on. But he’s gentle, wanting to handle you with care. Because you’re special to him. Because he loves you. “Oh,” He says, that same look of surprise from the party gracing his features. You can tell he’s not judging you, or surprised that you haven’t done anything. He’s just…surprised. “Yeah..” You trail off, and he grins lightheartedly. “And you want me to..in the back of this shitty car?” You exhale a laugh through your nose, raising you brows for a moment. “No, but..I want to. With you.” 
So, that’s how you end up in Steve’s bed, the clock on his bedside table reading 2:23 a.m. His head is delved between your thighs, working his mouth tantalizingly on your clit. His shoulders shelve your legs, holding you steady under your thighs. “Steve, please-” You writhe, unsure of what you’re even asking for. You just know that you want more. “Soon, baby.” He promises, his voice muffled into the plush of your thighs, pressing kisses along them every time he needs to speak. He’s intentionally taking his time, basking in all the experiences he’s  getting to show you. How good he’s going to get to make you feel. “My pretty baby.” He coos, tongue working against your pussy once more. You throw your head back, tugging at the locks of his hair, gasping and panting as moans spill from your lips. He wants to take his time with you-find out what makes you tick. So far, he’s gathered that marking you and working his lips against your clit makes your head spin. But he wants to know more-wants to know everything. 
“Want you inside-” You beg, finally casting your gaze downward upon him. Before he looks up at you, all you can see is tousled chestnut waves,tightened by your grip, broad shoulders, and large palms. “Can’t take all of me yet, baby,” He says, your pussy clenching at his tone. It’s almost condescending, and your brain goes fuzzy registering all of the experience that he has. “Gotta work you open first.” He pulls his face from between your thighs, pressing his thumb gently to your clit, working delicate circles into it as he looks up at you. “Think you can take my fingers, honey?” He asks. Your brows are furrowed with desperation, soaking up every ounce of pleasure he grants you. You hold onto it, not wanting him to take it away from you. “Yeah,” You urge, nodding. And even if there’s a little dishonesty His gaze harbors caution, not wanting to go too hard on you. He gently slides a finger inside of you, causing you to hiss through your teeth. “Too much?” He quickly asks, and you shake your head. “No, no-just-keep it there for a second,” You urge, the muscles in your stomach tightening with anticipation. It hurts, but only a little. Still, you need to let yourself adjust. You quickly do, the pain subsiding, melting into pleasure as you finally adjust to his size.
 He continues, finally working two fingers into you. He’s been knuckles deep in you for a while now, his mouth sucking gently on your clit to ease any discomfort. Your head feels dizzy, and all you can focus on is the pleasure he’s granting you. No one’s ever taken care of you like this before, and he’s urged you to just feel it. To just feel good, and not focus on anything else; just the sound of his voice. He finally climbs up from between your legs, hovering over you as his forearms rest on the mattress. “I love you.” He says, honestly. You nod in agreement, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. “I love you.” And in this moment, you know it’s forever; that everything you had gone through to get right to this moment was worth it-that it all had a purpose. He slides his cock along your entrance, gliding into you slowly. You hiss between through your teeth, and he quickly reaches for your hand. “You’re okay, baby-right?” He assures you, but he’s also asking. You’ve never seen someone balance the scales so well. “M’okay,” You nod. “Promise.” He continues, “S’the same as my fingers, baby.” He explains; soothes. You can tell by the way his breath shudders; he’s having a hard time keeping it together, that it’s taking everything in his power to not pound into you-to watch your eyes roll back into your head, all because of him. But, he’s a gentleman. “It’ll go away-feel good.” You start to feel yourself adjust, just like how you did his fingers. A moan slips from your mouth, a sign for him to finally move. “Move,” You plead, and his eyes light up. Not because he gets to fuck you, but because you’re okay. “Yeah?” He asks, his breath hitching in his throat.
 He starts slow at first, studying your features, still on that journey to find out what makes you tick. “M’gonna be gentle, honey. ‘Kay?” He nods, and you return the motion. “Wanna see-” He starts, slowly lifting your leg up. His frame leans into yours as he does so, his cock reaching deeper inside of your pussy. “Oh-” You gasp, moaning softly as he hits that spot inside of you. A spot only he could reach, and the only one who ever has. “There.” He notes, chestnut hair falling to frame his face. He can’t help the smug grin that tugs onto his features, tongue-in-cheek as he looks down at you. Your pussy is dripping, and you can’t take it anymore-tortured from the foreplay he’d given you. “Please, God-Steve. Want you to move, please fuck me-please-” You say, nearly babbling. He nods, soothing you as he hushes you. “Shhh, alright. Alright, baby.” He chuckles, and he moves his hips, his broad shoulders shelving your leg that he’s got ahold of. He keeps it steady, wrapping his arm around it as he fucks into you. Harder, and faster. Moans start to pour from your mouth, and you’re unable to contain any sounds that you make because of him. “Yeah, that’s it.” He praises, fucking into you harder. He doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second, reading any and every facial expression that you make. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” You nod rapidly, feeling his cock slide in and out of you. It’s like nothing you’ve felt before..ever.
”Yes-fuck-” Your brows furrow, scrunching together as you feel a warmth build in the pit of your stomach. He’d denied you an orgasm with his mouth, and his fingers, so you’d be ready to completely unravel for him. Any time you felt like you were getting close, he’d stop. You’d wondered why, until now. “Wanna see you. Wanna see your face when I give you your first.” Your head lulls back as you moan for him, tugging at his biceps, needing him closer. You’re nearly skin to skin, his hair hanging forward as it brushes against your forehead with each thrust.Your leg is still lifted, just bent now, causing your stomach to bunch with rolls as he presses his chest into you. “Come on, honey.” He coos. “Come for me.” It’s the first orgasm you’ve had that wasn’t by your own hand; finally by the hand you’d wanted it to be all along. You pant beneath him, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as you come undone for him. Your cheeks flush pink, rosied and fucked-out as your nails dig into the flesh of his biceps. “Uh-huh, there it is.” He chuckles, feeling his own orgasm approaching. You’d been on birth control for all sorts of reasons that..had nothing to do with sex. Until now. “Come in me,” You say, nodding rapidly. His jaw goes slack, shuddering gently at your words. “Can’t say things like that, baby. Can’t-” “M’on the pill, Steve-please,” You beg, “Promise, I love you.” Something shifts in Steve, and his full weight rests on top of you, pounding relentlessly into your pussy. He buries himself in the crook of your neck, sloppily sucking hickies into the flesh, leaving purple bruises in their wake. “I fuckin’ love you.” He breathes, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. He’s still holding your hand, finally spilling over inside of you. His moans are staggered, jolting out of him as he finally regulates his breathing, rolling over beside you as he pulls himself from you. He immediately pulls you into his side, feeling the fresh linen sheets bunch up beneath you both. Your eyes have adjusted to the moonlit room, studying his features in the dark as he looks at you. He’s lovestricken, doe-eyed with a wide grin on his features. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” He says, and you roll your eyes with sweet embarrassment. “Stop! No you were not-” You tease, laughing softly. “I was-!” He retorts, brushing stray hairs out of your face as he smiles. “Always have been.” You stop your laughter, feeling it melt into a soft grin as you bask in the moment of his confessions. “And so have I.” You say. He pulls your face to him, pressing his lips to your forehead. You sigh with relief into his arms, feeling yourself doze off as he murmurs against your flesh, knowing that forever starts tonight. “Always will be.” 
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southislandwren · 2 years
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i've successfully poisoned my boss's mind with instrumental music so i'm making a playlist of chill instrumentals so when im gone she can relax without having to find her own songs
#today in the car she was like oh this music is so calming#and fucking kass's theme was playing. which is not like a chill song at all.#so im gonna make her a playlist so relaxing it knocks her fucking socks off#diary post#also she woke me up at 5:26 for a down cow and i arrived at her farm at 5:40 and its a 10 minute commute.#i got the commute down to 7 minutes and basically speedran getting ready for the day. it was fucking insane#but im fucking exhausted and tomorrow will be another long day#so i'll hang out for a bit but hopefully be asleep by like 8:30#edited to add more because i have Thoughts and no one to share them with#she is literally everything i want my future to be. almost down to the minute details.#its so good for me to see that school IS useful and i DO have a future where i can be happy#this summer fucking rocks#edited again to add. when I visit her in September we are getting fucking SLOSHED. the events on a Sunday I think#so we’ll get drunk Sunday night and then I’ll help on Monday to reduce the ill affects of the hangovers#(this little baby turns 21 in august but after I’m back in school. so unless she bends the rules for me. we’ll have to wait until September)#or maybe on my way to Christmas break at home I’ll spend a night with her and we can hang out and drink#I have like negative interest in alcohol but I think if there’s ever a situation to drink it’s with my 40 year old best friend#anyway tomorrow is farmers market with the husband and I’m lowkey not excited bc he’s a massive asshole but whatever. I’ll cope
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wynnyfryd · 5 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 23
part 1 | part 22 | ao3
cw: alcohol, recreational drinking
Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?” 
“What? You look cute!” 
“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”
“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”
“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.” 
“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”
“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."
“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.
She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.” 
“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.” 
“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”
Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”
They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.
In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.
The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls. 
Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.
Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.
Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.
“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”
Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.
Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?
He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!
“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?” 
“Yes, please.” 
The drinks are strong.
Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging. 
They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move. 
He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.
The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger. 
Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.
She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.
“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.
Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"
Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on. 
Well, shit.
part 24
tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot
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minarinnn · 5 months
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“RELIEVING STRESS”
content/trigger warning: characters are aged up, afab!reader, piv, dom!reader, sub!bachira, groping, creampie
@daburgershop
sypnosis: after having a stressful day your boyfriend suggest a way to relieve that stress
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your day couldn't have gone any worse. first, you didn't hear your alarm and you only had about 20 minutes to get ready for work. second, you were in such a hurry to get to work that you forgot to eat the pancakes that your boyfriend had made for you. third, your super annoying workmate (who's secretly hooking up with your boss) spilled coffee on the new printer the office had bought and then blamed it on you. fourth, your dick of a boss believed her and is taking money from your paycheck to fix the damn printer
with a clenched jaw and forceful movements, you unlocked your apartment door, stepping in and slamming the door behind you
your boyfriend, who laid on the couch, immediately sat up. a happy smile and sparkling eyes adorning his face. "how was your day?" he asked, walking over to you. you couldn't help but roll your eyes at meguru's question, having the worst day imaginable and now having to deal with your naive boyfriend on top of everything else
"do you really want to know?" you spat in response, taking off your shoes and dropping them by the door. you took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, feeling your frustration, anger, and irritation building up inside you. meanwhile, meguru had successfully wrapped his hands around your waist, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck
"go on, tell meee" he purposely dragged his words, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. you sighed in defeat, knowing that he was just gonna keep insisting if you decided not to tell him
"y'know that bitch that's sleeping with my boss? yeah well she accidentally spilled coffee on the new printer and when he asked who did it, that fucking hoe blamed it on me. can you believe that?! anyways, he believed her, obviously, and he said that the repairs were coming out'a my paycheck. and it literally wasn't my fault! he's such a di-" "so you're stressed?"
you could feel your boyfriend smiling against your neck, his hands rubbing circles on your hips, gradually going lower. "if you couldn't already tell, i am" you huff. "i know the best way to relieve stress" he giggled, gently squeezing your ass and leaving wet kisses along your neck "wanna know what it is?"
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the sound of skin slapping against each other filled the apartment. meguru sat on the couch while you bounced up and down on his cock. your hands on his shoulder and his on your hips, following along with your steady rhythm
"fuckkkk, don't stop, please" meguru shamelessly moaned out. the sounds of sloshing and skin slapping echoed throughout the apartment. "aghh,, don't be so loud- ahh,, the neighbors are gonna complain again" you spoke, one hand grabbing onto the back of the couch for support, the other wrapping around his neck.
"ahhh fuckk- i really don't careee" he grunts out, head laying back into the couch "it's not my fault their sex isn't good". you couldn't help but giggle, your hand grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you. "try to stay quiet, yeah?" your voice was barely above a whisper and your face held that mischievous smile that he loved
"but you feel so gooddd" he whined, giving you his yellow, puppy dog eyes. your pace slowed down, soon coming to a halt. a mischievous glint in your eyes as he whimpered. your gummy walls clenching around him. fuck he looked so hot when he's needy
"why'd you stop?" he breathed out, whining and pouting at like a baby. "meguru, promise to be quiet.. for me?" you ask, tilting your head to the side. both your eyes filled with nothing lust
bachira hesitated for a moment before eagerly nodding his head, his eyes locked on yours “i promise.. i really do”. his nails were digging into your hips, desperate for you to move and to finally aid him in his release. with a small giggle, your began to move again, earning a moan from both you and meguru
after a few seconds you could feel his cock twitching inside of your fluttering walls that clenched down on him like they never wanted to let him go. meguru bit his lip to try and be as quiet as possible. his teeth tearing through the sensible skin
“mmm, im.. s’close- oh fuck” you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach. meguru only nodded, moaning small ‘mhm’s’. he bucked his hips, meeting you halfway and thrusting up into you, hitting deeper than he was before. that’s all it took for you to cream all over his dick
your boyfriend soon coming undone inside you, his thick seed painting your velvet walls white. watching it leak out from your pretty hole
heavy breaths were heard from both you and him. your chest rising and falling in unison as you both stared into each other. “i think i’m… feeling less stressed” you pant out. “glad i.. could help” he grinned, planting a small kiss on your lips
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© MINARINNN 2023 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.
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neonghostlights · 8 months
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Fuckboy!werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
Based off my little drabble here.
Warnings: Eddie gets called a man-whore (not by reader), mates, cussing, mention of almost hitting an animal with your car (doesn't happen but almost does), parental and grandparent death (readers whole family is dead) 18+ only, minors dni
Wordcount: 3.9k
Series masterlist
Hawkins was fucking weird. 
You should have taken the hint when you stopped by the lone gas station about an hour before reaching the town and asked the clerk for directions to make sure you were going the right way. He laughed at you like you were joking as soon as the question left your mouth. When he eventually figured out by your blank faced expression that you were indeed dead serious about trying to get to Hawkins, he gave the directions you needed with a quick “good luck with that.” 
You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t make you second guess this move. But now that you had arrived at your destination and mostly settled into your small home at the edge of the town, it just seemed like a normal place. It was a small town with everyone seeming to already know everybody, leaving you the odd man out. Everyone that you had come across so far was mostly kind to you and welcoming considering the circumstances. 
Your aunt used to own the home you had now taken residence in. She passed suddenly, leaving you as the only living descendant to inherit her things. You almost sold it off, but for some reason the town of Hawkins called to you, making you think that maybe it was meant to be. Before you knew it you were packing up your things, quitting your job at a grocery store, and making the sudden and long drive. 
Your new home was a double wide trailer that sat on a secluded piece of land. Your aunt seemed to really like her privacy. There were no other homes for miles. The trees and forest surrounding your expansive yard gave you enough privacy to walk outside naked if you wanted to with no worries of anyone ever seeing you. 
You had never met your aunt before. You had been raised solely by your grandparents since your mother passed and your father wasn’t ever in the picture. 
You knew your aunt suddenly left their home young, leaving your mother and grandparents behind, and never looked back. But you never knew the details behind it. You always thought it was odd when you were younger since you thought your grandparents and mom were the best people ever. But now as an adult you could see how some people needed independence. 
Even if that independence was a secluded house in a small town that literally no one else has ever heard of.  
You stared out the car window at the rain that started last night and never let up. Your windshield wipers squeaked furiously as they rushed back and forth on the highest setting. You were already parked in your work parking lot, preparing yourself for the run you were going to have to make into the building. 
Water sloshed up the legs of your jeans as your rain boots splashed through every puddle that you couldn’t seem to avoid. You were drenched by the time you made it to the door. The bell on the handle dinged at your arrival and you wiped your boots against the mat furiously even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good.
“Hey!” Jessie called as she peeked her head around a shelf. 
You waved in response and made your way behind the counter and threw your bags underneath of it. You had been working at Bee’s Books for a month now and you liked it so far. You were hired on the spot when you came in asking for a job application, the owner was impressed by you and desperate enough to practically throw the job at you. 
It was a large store, surprising for the size town it resided in. You fell for the charm of it and the employee discount you got on all of your book purchases. 
“I thought Tina was working with us today too?” You asked as you snapped your name badge in place over your sweater. 
“She is,” Jessie said as she dropped the stack of books onto the counter. “She’s in the back doing something. You wanna put these up for me in the fantasy section while I put these in young adult?”
You nodded, picking up the stack of books and making your way to their designated section. The stack was thick and heavy, already making your arm ache only seconds after picking them up. You set your chin on top of it to better hold it in place as you walked through the rows of shelves. 
Jessie and Tina were nice and all, but you had a feeling Jessie liked to dictate jobs at you that she didn’t feel like doing. You already guessed that she would probably be up at the counter giggling with Tina instead of putting away the other stack of books like she said she would. 
It was hard being new in a town where the people all grew up together. You felt like an outsider, like everyone was being nice to your face and then whispering behind your back as you walked past. You wondered if part of that was because your aunt was eccentric. 
You slowly shoved the books into their designated spots on the shelf, not rushing to get back up to the front. If you were honest, you would live in a book store if you could. When you were young your mom used to bring you to the library that was down the street from your grandparents house every saturday. You would both spend hours flipping through the fantasy section with not a care in the world. 
After she died, those visits to the library became more lonely but you still did it because you enjoyed it so much. 
You heard the bell ding from the front door and the chatter between the two girls up front stop suddenly. 
The hair on the back of your neck started to rise and a chill broke out on your arms. 
You blamed your clothes still wet from the rain. You rolled your shoulders back, trying to calm your sudden chill before reaching for another book from the stack cradled in your left arm. 
You could hear the sound of wet sneakers against the carpeted floors approaching, along with the sound of enthusiastic chattering. You couldn’t hear Tina and Jessie up front anymore and you assumed it was because they were off helping customers. 
The sound of whoever was approaching got closer and you turned and faced the shelf again, hoping they wouldn’t need anything from you. You weren’t the best at the customer interaction side of this job and would rather hide behind the shelves than talk to someone. 
 You heard the sound of the walking stop but the chattering of a younger voice kept going in a one sided conversation. 
You glanced up, offering a polite smile. A teenager stood there, looking no older than fifteen. He had curly hair with a round face and dimples. He spoke enthusiastically to the person standing beside him, not caring that he was being ignored. 
You looked over to the person he was with to see his eyes were already on you. He had long brown hair and dark eyes that reminded you of melted chocolate. His skin was pale but you could just barely make out the light dusting of freckles across his nose if you focused as hard as you were right now. 
He dressed in all black, from his leather jacket to his shirt, jeans and thick boots. His hands were decorated with chunky metal rings that reminded you of costume jewelry. He let out a woosh of air from his lungs as he reached out to the wooden shelf beside him. The rings thudded against the wood as he grasped it so tightly that you thought it might splinter. He wobbled slightly, almost as if he was drunk. 
His full lips were slightly parted as he kept staring at you. 
You wished you could set down the stack of books somewhere so you could rub your arms in an attempt to fight the goosebumps plaguing up and down your skin. 
The boy beside him stopped talking, looking up at his friend with confusion. 
“Eddie? What’s wrong?” The boy asked with concern, nudging his friend's arm. 
Eddie, which was apparently his name, didn’t react to his friend's touch. He continued staring at you with a look you couldn’t decipher and it made the goosebumps spread across your skin with a vengeance. 
“Are you okay?” You asked him, wondering if you should yell for Tina or Jessie to call an ambulance. 
He blinked a few times at the sound of your voice, seeming to have been pulled from whatever trance he was in. 
His friend tugged on his arm. “Eddie?” 
He pried his eyes away from yours to look at his boy. He released his tight grip on the shelf and you realized his full body was trembling. You wondered if he was cold too. 
He didn’t say anything as he quickly turned and rushed away from you, leaving his friend behind. 
The boy let out a small, “oh.” as he stared at you with a wide eyed look. The look of shock didn’t last long before his open mouth spread into a smug looking wide smile. His face changing from shock to joy in a heartbeat. 
“Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. 
He backed away slowly, still with a smile on his face while you stared at him in confusion. 
“It was very nice to meet you. I’m Dustin,” he said before turning around and running in the same direction as Eddie. 
You blinked a few times, trying to process what the hell just happened. Your eyes met with Tina’s who was peeking around the shelf with an annoyed look on her face. She rolled her eyes and made her way back to the front. 
“What the hell?” you said out loud, talking to only the books. Confused on what had just happened in the past few minutes. 
You put the rest of the books away, heading to the front of the store to see if Tina and Jessie needed help with anything. 
They were huddled beside each other at the counter, leaned close and whispering frantically in hushed tones. Tina’s hands were waving in the air. You wondered what had happened to piss her off. 
They didn’t look up until you were behind the counter and grabbing more books to put away. You noticed them sharing a look with eachother out of the corner of your eyes before Jessie turned towards you. 
“Hey. What did Eddie Munson say to you back there?” Jessie asked, her voice going higher in false politeness. It reminded you of the customer service tone she used when a customer was asking too many questions or messing up a perfectly designed display. 
“Uh, nothing?” You shrugged while stacking the books onto the cart. There was no way you were carrying all of these this time. 
“Well, it looked like something happened,” Tina snapped, not bothering to be nice at all. 
You looked up at her in confusion. Jessie and Tina had never acted like this towards you before. Tina’s eyes were red and watery, like she was on the verge of crying and it made you feel bad. 
“Nothing happened. He didn’t even say anything to me. He just stared at me for a second and then walked away,” you offered, hoping this would make things normal again so you could just do your job and then go home. 
Jessie rubbed a soothing hand up and down Tina’s back. 
“See. I told you,” she cooed, trying to make her friend feel better. 
You set down the book you were holding. 
“I’m confused,” you admitted. “Did I do something wrong?” 
“No,” Jessie offered with a small smile, still rubbing Tina’s back as she placed her head in her hands. “Eddie Munson is just a jerk is all.” 
“Oh. Yeah. He did seem kind of rude,” you admitted, not really caring for this conversation much at all. 
Tina snapped her head up and stared at you with narrow eyes. 
“I thought you said he didn’t say anything to you,” she wailed. 
Jessie shot you a look, silently telling you to shut up. 
“He didn’t!” You exclaimed, feeling the need to defend yourself. “He just stood there and walked away!”
Tina nodded, wiping underneath her eyes with the tissue Jessie handed her. 
“What’s the big deal about him anyways?” You questioned, needing to know the story behind this to ease your own curiosity. 
“He’s a man-whore. He makes girls feel special and then just dumps them after he gets what he wants. If you’ve talked to any girl in this town then he’s slept with them,” Jessie said, sounding like she was telling a story about the boogeyman and not just some guy that wears a lot of black and stares at people in weird ways. 
You wanted to ask Jessie if she was included on the list of girls Eddie Munson had fucked over but you wanted peace for the rest of the day. 
You couldn’t help the sudden feeling of disappointment that settled into your gut at the information you had learned. It wasn’t like you knew him since he literally didn’t say at word to you and the whole interaction was weird but for some reason your brain had told you that he was harmless. Your chest felt strange, like the feeling of seeing your crush holding someone else's hand. Which was weird, because although Eddie Munson was beautiful you had only seen him for a few seconds. Surely not long enough to form any attachment. 
He was a stranger. 
“I’m sorry, Tina.He sounds like a real asshole,” you said wholeheartedly. You meant it. It seemed like Eddie Munson had truly broken the poor girl's heart. 
What an asshole. 
Tina sniffled, nodding in agreement. 
“So, if I were you I’d stay far away from him,” Jessie warned, sounding more like a threat. 
“Trust me,” you sighed, “I am definitely not interested.”
You grabbed the handles on the cart, pulling it away from the awkward conversation. Tina and Jessie started whispering again as soon as you walked away. 
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The rain was pouring harder than it was earlier. 
You were contemplating making a run for it to get to the dry safety of your car but you couldn’t bring yourself to move from under the awning that hung over the store's front door. 
It was dark out now, night time coming in behind the gloomy rain clouds. The lights of the parking lot could only illuminate so much with the heavy gushes of rain coming down. 
Jessie came out of the door behind you, jumping slightly as she noticed you. 
You smiled awkwardly, the air still feeling weird from earlier. 
Jessie and Tina had kept to themselves for the rest of the day. You didn’t mind, enjoying the solitude of stacking books on your own or taking inventory. 
Tina had already gone home, running to her car as soon as she finished her last task. She got lucky with there being a break in the rain when she left. You wished you had hurried out at the same time as her. 
Jessie stuck around though to finish counting the register, saying that she had a family member coming to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to drive in the weather. She had even asked your boss if her car would be okay in the parking lot overnight. 
“Why are you still here?” She asked as she came up beside you. 
“Not ready to go through the rain. Hoping it’ll lighten up soon,” you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself tighter.
Jessie nodded, looking out at the parking lot and the street before it expectantly. 
About fifteen minutes pass by with you both standing in silence. Water dripped from the awning and splashed at your feet rhythmically. Neither of you said anything about it or made any attempt to move.
The rain hitting the pond that used to be the parking lot was the only sound to be heard. 
You wanted to leave so bad. You just wanted to say screw it and sprint for your car to brave the drive home. But you didn’t feel right leaving Jessie here by herself in the bad weather and darkness. 
“Do you want me to drive you home so you don’t have to wait any later?” You asked, checking your watch to see how far it had passed since closing time. 
You just wished the rain would lighten up now so you could just leave and go curl up in your bed with one of your new books. 
Jessie shook her head, face falling as each car passed the parking lot without turning in. 
The rain finally lightened to a drizzle and you groaned in relief. You stepped out from under the awning, turning back to check on Jessie. 
She stepped out from under the awning too, following you to where your cars were parked. 
“Guess he isn’t coming. Asshole,” you heard her mutter before she climbed into her car and pulled away.  
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The rain finally stopped the next day. 
You woke up bright and early on your day off, much earlier than you really wanted to be up.
You dressed for the day, needing to run some of your aunt's things to the storage unit in town. 
When you had moved in, there was an abundance of stuff everywhere. After living here for a month, you had managed to pack it all into boxes and take it to the storage unit until you could find the time to go through it and decide what you wanted to keep or donate. 
You had a feeling you would end up donating it all like you did with your grandparents things, except the sentimental stuff of course. 
Your aunt liked to collect figurines and paintings of the woods and wildlife. You thought it was odd, since she quite literally lived in a home that was surrounded by woods and all she had to do if she missed it was just look outside. 
The paintings were of various animals, a few bears, a duck or two but the largest painting she had was of a large gray wolf. 
The painting was massive and in a thick dark wood frame that matched the wooden paneling on the walls. It took up most of the living room just behind the couch, positioned in a way where you would have no choice but to make eye contact with it as soon as you walked in the door. 
You took it down the day you moved in. The yellow eyes painted onto the beast seemed to follow you with every step you took in the trailer. 
So you were getting rid of it.
It had spent its time since you moved in with it propped against the wall with a sheet draped over it. You decided today was the day to finally drag it out to your car and pray that it fit into the backseat. 
You propped the front door and screen door open with the heaviest boot you had and grabbed the painting to drag it outside. 
You got it halfway through the door when something on your front porch had you pausing. 
At your feet, on the wooden planks that made up the porch were large muddy paw prints. Whatever animal it had come from was massive. The prints were larger than your own hand, making your shiver a the realization that whatever it was came right to your front door when you were blissfully unaware in your bed. 
Despite the sun shining, you now had an ominous feeling in your spine. 
You quickly pushed the painting back inside, letting the doors fall shut behind you.. 
You’d take the painting tomorrow instead. 
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You got off work again when it was dark. 
Thankfully there was no rain this time. 
You were able to scrub the paw prints off your porch and take the painting to the storage unit this morning before work. 
After discovering the muddy prints at your doorstep the day before, you locked yourself in your house and rethought your move to Hawkins. 
You had spent all last night tossing and turning in your bed in fear of what could be lurking outside. You had probably gotten up and checked the lock on the front door at least five times before finally dozing off into a restless sleep. 
But you had made it through the night and when you checked outside this morning only the old paw prints remained with no new signs of your visitor. 
You turned down the curvy road to head to your side of town. 
Today had gone back to normal with Tina and Jessie back to their normal selves with no talk of the guy that had broken Tina’s heart. 
Now that you were farther from the center of town, there were more trees and less houses. You were the only car on the road, the last headlights you had seen were a few miles back. 
You were so close to your home when you saw something large run through the road. 
You slammed on your brakes, the tires locking up and squealing as the car skidded and stopped with a jerk. 
Your heart raced as you tried to calm down. Your eyes scanned the road, looking for whatever it was that was just there. 
You slammed your hand on the off button on your radio, silencing The Rolling Stones abruptly. 
Through the flickering headlights, you could make out something standing on the left side of the road. It slowly stalked into view until you were leaning back in your seat, frozen from fear. 
It was the biggest damn wolf you had ever seen in your life. And it was standing right infront of your car, staring straight into your eyes. 
It was hard to see in the poor lighting, but its coat was somewhere between a midnight black and a chocolate brown. It was tall, taller than your car. It kept its head hunkered down low to look at you in the driver's seat. 
You wondered if you should break eye contact but you were pretty sure that you had seen somewhere that you were supposed to act like you were bigger when you came face to face with a wild animal. 
Although you were in your car, you were sure that if it wanted to get you it could. Hell, you were sure that it could crush this thing with a flick of its tail if it wanted to. 
A loud howl came from the right of your car. You jumped, foot easing off the brake and making the car lurch forward. You slammed your foot back down, stopping the car before it could hit the animal.
The wolf blinked a few times, not even flinching. It turned, slowly stalking to the right side of the road and giving you time to move. 
You felt its eyes on you as you sped off past it. 
Yeah, Hawkins was really fucking weird. 
Next Chapter
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Text
Grian had barely moved.
He stood on the pier, still as a statue. The only sign of movement was when his line shifted. With a deft flick of his wrist, the rod would jerk up, and his catch would detach from the hook and land neatly in his waiting inventory. He’d mastered the action by now, replicating it almost exactly at irregular intervals.
His legs didn’t burn. His arms didn’t ache. He felt oddly at peace, serene, a fish gently following the current.
No, more than that. The current itself. On occasion, Grian could hear the ocean beckoning to him, and he’d walked into its clutches just for a moment.
Of course, to an outsider, he just look like he was wading into the water and coming back out with his pants soaking wet. Gem informed him he looked like a madman.
“The ocean talks,” he told her.
“It should tell you you’re insane,” she said, before bounding back to her ship and casting her own line as well.
“Well, you fish as well!” He yelled.
“At least I don’t try and drown myself like some sort of…” Gem’s voice faded out.
Grian sighed, shook his head and turned back to the water.
Not that he would admit it, but there were some signs that Gem was right. Him slowly turning into water, for one.
That is, seawater, not some block of sloshing liquid. He’d even consulted Jevin, who said it was definitely not slime. He’d cautiously licked his own hand and found it salty.
Whatever it was, his hands were turning less solid everyday. Sometimes they passed through the rod entirely, and he would yelp and fall into the water with a splash. Then he’d get up and it was fine again.
He swore Jevin to secrecy. He didn’t know what the other fishermen would do if they found out that he was literally becoming the ocean. Gem would gloat, for sure.
But all this he treated with a dismissive nonchalance compared to the fishing.
Oh, he switched it up a bit. Two, no, five rods.
If only something could mend him, yeah? Like, a mending book? I’ve fished thousands of times and you’re giving me rubbish!
He yelled at the ocean.
Two days later he wondered if it was mad at him about it because the slightest bit of tension started to enter his legs.
He sat down. His body ached anyway, after weeks of fishing day and night. His eyes felt sore, but he refused to look in a mirror to confirm that there were eyebags.
Should he apologise to the ocean? No. That was definitely crazy territory.
As if turning into water wasn’t, his brain screamed at him. He ignored it.
“You’re crazy,” Gem told him plainly, as she boated past.
“I just need mending,” he said. Gem left to build or something. So far, Grian had built half a base and a pier for fishing.
Oh well. That wasn’t really important.
He sat and fished.
-
i’ve been wanting to write something for grian since he started fishing… oh boy
this post also serves as a self-reminder that i have other blorbos besides gem and pearl
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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Unexpected expectings universe where Joel loves their kids so much it makes him selfish and he wants another. So they’re fucking and he’s begging to come inside her and for another baby 😭
so here's the thing
warnings | 18+ alcohol consumption, allusions to smut
having Libby was already a huge emotional, psychological, logistical challenge for the both of them. i just don't think they'd ever even consider having another baby, at least not when they're in their right minds.
however...
There is one time, a little bit after Libby's second birthday, that Tommy manages to get Joel completely sloshed at the Tipsy Bison after a shift. The stubborn fool just cannot back down from a challenge, something that Tommy knows all too well, and had used to his advantage when he bet Joel that he could outdrink him.
Joel goes stumbling home, and when he finds his woman sitting on the couch, bare legs up while she reads a book, his mind goes a little paleolithic.
All she gets from him is a warbly smile before he's literally laying down on top of her, burying his face in her neck and taking a deep inhale of her scent.
"Smell so good, darlin. Always smell so good- and soft-" he cuts himself off with a hiccup that jostles the both of them with its force.
"So soft and pretty- I wanna-" another hiccup, her frustration growing as his words slobber over her neck.
"Wanna see you all soft and round again- give you another-" hiccup, she shoves at his shoulders, trying to get him to at least lift his face from where he's nuzzling into her shoulder now.
"Give you another baby" Oh shit. She freezes under him, before pressing her palm to his forehead to finally get him to look at her. His eyes are glassy, a dopey little smile hanging on his lips, and it all clicks for her.
"How much have you had to drink?" He grunts, shrugging a little. The moment she takes her hand away from his forehead, his face drops back down into her neck, a little "oof" leaving his lips.
"C'mon, mama. You're so- so good with our girls- lemme give you another one." His words are a thick slur, mumbled together between startling hiccups. She's heard quite enough, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to coax his head back up.
"Oh, Joel. What am I gonna do with you?" His sweet little smile turns into a smarmy grin at that.
"Well I've got a few thoughts actually." She has to laugh. It's rare to see Joel Miller so completely off his head. Unfortunately, he takes her giggling as a good sign, and swoops in for a sloppy kiss. The taste of him confirms her suspicions, and she promptly shoves him off of her. He flops back against the couch cushions, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm.
"You want it like that tonight? I don't mind it a little rough, darlin." Jesus h. christ. She's never going to let him live this down.
She wordlessly gets up off the couch, grabbing both his wrists to haul him up onto his feet. He slings his arm over her shoulders, hanging a lot of his weight off her as he noses at the side of her face, all while she tries to drag him further through the house.
"You takin me upstairs, mama? I like it when you take charge." She passes right by the stairs, hauling him to the back of the house and out the backdoor, onto the porch in their backyard. She manages to get him down the stairs of the porch and onto the grass, the stupid grin on his face still present as he looks down at her.
"What're we doing out- outside?" It's more of a whine than a question as he tosses his head back on his neck. She has to stifle another laugh.
"You stay right there, ok? I'll be right back with a surprise." That grabs his attention fast, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.
"A surprise?" She nods, trying to look as serious as possible.
"Mmhmm, but you have to wait right there." When it seems like he really is going to stay in place, after a few failed attempts in which she had to shove him back by his shoulders, she turns to walk around the side of the house. She cranks on the spigot to the garden hose, unraveling it and dragging it back with her.
He grins at her when she pops back around into the backyard, opening his arms out wide.
"I'm ready for my surprise, dar-" Joel doesn't get to finish that particular sentence, not when he yelps as she pulls the hose from behind her back and sprays him with a jet of cold water. She drenches him, even as he lets out a string of curses. His shirt is soaked, sticking to his chest, and his jeans are a much darker shade of blue. His eyes are wide as he looks at her, stuck shocked where he stands.
"When you're sobered up and done acting like a fool you can come inside and dry off."
The next morning, squinting behind a pounding headache, he has to beg her not to tell Tommy about what happened. He'd never let him live it down. She agrees, but on the condition that he has to take on toilet training Libby.
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mandowifey · 10 months
Text
Porogue.
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Father Paul/John Pruitt x Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, P in V sex, unprotected sex, dry humping, mutual masturbation, lots of priest play, biting, pining, dom!Paul, semi established relationship, cum play, mentions of cervix, mentions of bite wounds.
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
It's a storm to end all storms.
That was what Beverly Keane proclaimed at yesterday's service. The woman had a penchant for dramatics and often spoke with puritanical judgment. Folks were accustomed to the devout woman's manic ramblings, which meant she was never taken literally. However, when the Coast Guard reached out to warn the town to evacuate not but four hours before the storm was due to impact, Bev Keane stood, smug and proud.
"I had warned you, all of you."
Towns folk rushed towards the docks with their families, arms full of the few precious belongings they had. Sturge was helping them up the ramp and into the ferry, trying to explain that there was no need to panic. Dark waves sloshed and rolled under the boats. People were gasping and crying out below the blackening sky. Hysteria at its finest.
"You lot wrought this upon yourselves," sighed Keane, who stood on the dock, hands linked together. "Those of us who remained loyal to our faith, who filled the church every day and lived our lives devout and holy have no reason to fear. The Lord recognizes his own and will shephard us unto his raft to guide us through the storm."
Over half the population fled Crockett that dreary afternoon. Those who remained boarded their windows and hunkered down to ride it out. While the last ferry departed, Bev Keane smiled and turned to head back up the trail. Confident in the hopes that God would sort things out in the end.
° ☆ ° ☆ °
Candles warmed the room around you, while flashes of lighting illuminated the windows and caught your eye. When thunder clapped and shook the wooden frame of the rectory, you would suck in a sharp gasp and tense, which drew a low chuckle from the man above you. Rain impacts noisily against the glass windows, causing a steady hum.
"Relax."
A hand closes under your jaw and tips your head back, exposing the curve of your throat. Lips press against your skin, making you rumble and start to smile. "You are so strange," the words leave your mouth in a breathless sigh. "How can you not be at least a little afraid?"
He chuckles again, and you feel teeth graze your flesh. "I have much more important things on my mind." There was a pull to his words that brought moisture between your legs. Heat consumed you, twisting through your limbs and fogging your thoughts.
"Looks like you do too." His palm cups your mound. Embarrassment overtakes you as you realize you had soaked through your underwear. "Messy little lamb." Lips slotting together, the man kisses you with intensity. He parts your mouth with his own and scoops his tongue between your teeth. You can feel the way his nose pushes to your cheek and taste the remnants of the tea he had earlier.
Words fail you as you cave below him. The bed moves under you as he shifts your bodies and lays himself between your legs. Another flash of lightning, another gasp, this time it's for him. He presses the aching bulge against your core and leans his weight into you. You feel so small with his body caging yours, and the contact makes you simper.
"O-oh, P-paul,"
"I'm sorry?"
Paul's voice was lile velvet in your ears. Candlelight flickers in those obsidian eyes of his, and you watch his angular brows start to vex. Heat burned in your stomach, and you paw at the blankets beneath you.
"F-father, p-please."
A smile breaks the tension, and he drops his head down to gently kiss the middle of your forehead. He rumbles his praise against your skin, balancing himself on his knees and one hand while the other pulls your leg around his hip. You tilt and groan unabashedly as Paul starts to grind into you. The friction of his clothed cock pressing and sliding over your crease had your clit engoring with blood.
Head tilting back, your mouth hangs open as soft groans waft out. Paul was watching you, admiring every line in your face as he began bucking into you. Your body bounces, your cries coming out louder as he thrusts as though he were fucking you. The impact had you soaking more than before, leaking a spot on the blankets.
"U-uhn, hnn, p-please-" You felt frantic, desperately craving the Priest to bury inside and claim you as his. To carve through your insides and nestle himself in the furthest reaches of your cunt. The ache within your body called to him, your scent nearly driving the starving man mad.
"Patience is a virtue." Paul sat back against his legs before placing both large hands on your hips. Fingers gripped bruisingly tight as he hoisted you upwards against him, locking your pelvis to his so he could continue rutting. The man sighed, his eyes closing as he grunted and panted softly. Both of you mutually wind your bodies together in a frenetic desire.
Panting fills the empty space, and you're using the massive bulge between his legs to chase your release. Paul used you, too. His hands greedily squeezed and pulled you while his hips bucked to yours. "T-that's it." He gasps, his large thumbs pressing down into the front of your pelvis, causing a pleasant pressure inside of you that made you mewl.
Ravenous, the holy man watches as you fall apart. Chest heaving, skin flushed, and nipples showing through your tank top. "Look at you, little lamb," His voice purrs. "So beautiful, a spectacle to watch unfurl." Rolling his hips forward, Paul grinds his cock into your core and makes you whine. You are gradually rising now, the friction pushing you higher and higher. Smiling, he smoothed one large palm over your stomach as he moved it onto your breast. "Let me hear you." He pinches your pert nipple between his thumb and index finger, causing you to arch and cry.
"That's it, good girl."
Your face burns. Sweat builds in a thin layer on your skin as the sensation of bursting swells inside of you. Paul lifts off his legs to get a better angle and alternates slow grinds with firm, steady rocks of his hips. Each impact jostles your smaller frame, bouncing you under him and pushing cry after cry from your parted lips. "I-im g-gonna-" It was hurtling towards you full speed. You knew there was no use in trying to fight it. You could feel the burn of his eyes on your face, watching you as you fell apart.
"It's alright, my angel, let me see you."
Paul leaned over you, bucking himself against you just right. Your clit throbs, slick soaking through your panties and onto him as you gasp and jerk. Fireworks spark in your belly as the rush hits you. Your cunt clenches sporadically, your body shaking as you cum. Reaching your hands up, you curl your fingers into his arms, thighs shaking as he continues to grind against you. Paul coos, mesmerized by your face. When you rest back and relax, he leans and opens his pants to spring himself out.
With your head still spinning, you hardly notice him fist his cock. Eyes transfixed on your soaked underwear, the Monsignor inches closer and strokes himself against you. "S-such a messy lamb," his voice shudders with pleasure as his palm slicks across his length. "S-so beautiful." He sounds like he may cry, his dark eyes heavy with lids and lips parted. You look up at him, feeling your heart race at the sight. "P-please father, I need you to cum." Paul jerks, startled by your words and breath stopping in his throat.
That undid him. He bucked against his fist while you pulled your panties to the side. Whimpering and looking down, he groans as he cums. Hot, thick ropes spraying across your folds and fingers. You feel the heat as he drips inside your crease. "O-oh." He bucks one last time, a final spurt landing on your clit and dribbling downwards. Paul looks disheveled, breathless, as he settles down from his own high.
You were ready to speak when he dropped over you, impacting your lips with his own. Paul slips his large hand between your legs, using his nimble fingers to collect his cum and push it into you. You gasp, groaning into his starving mouth as he sinks inside your cunt to the knuckle. "Mh, p-paul-" He kisses your words and swallows them whole, adding a second digit which causes you to shriek into him. He pumps them inside of you, trying as hard as he can to reach your end with his seed.
Mouths and tongues lashing together, Paul slows his fingers right as you begin to buck against him. "So needy tonight," remarked the holy man as he licked over your kiss swollen lips. "I suppose you have been good enough to earn a little more. What do you say, my lamb?" His fingers curled inside of you, applying pressure to your gspot and bladder. Sparks flash behind your eyes, and your back lifts off the blankets. "Y-yes, p-please father Hill." You gasp, struggling to bring your eyes to his. The man flashes his teeth, and his eyes crinkle along the edges. His digits squelch inside of you as he begins to pump them faster.
"Since you asked so nicely." Paul nods, drawing his fingers out while you whine.
The loss of him makes your cuntache. Feeling no need to rush, Paul takes his time removing your sodden underwear and his pants. Carefully, he lays beside you and shifts you on your side, facing away from him. As he closes the distance between your bodies, you feel the cold press of his skin behind you. Paul lifts your leg and kisses behind your ear. "Keep this up for me, please." The delicate tone in his voice makes you throb, and you obey.
You feel the familiar prod of his cock and angle your hips back to make it easier for him. Paul guides his tip to your sopping opening and grunts with you as he presses inside. With a sudden snap of his hips, he submerges inside your heat and bottoms out. The stretch is immense, and you can already feel the tip nudging at your end. "G-god!" Your lip quivers and leg shakes, the muscle burning now.
As if he knew, Paul curls his frigid hand under your knee and holds your leg. Lips kiss at your shoulder as he starts liesurely rocking inside of you. The drag burning your cunt and making you whine. Eagerly, you shove yourself back against him, nearly sobbing each time he pushes fully inside and reaches your furthest depths. You're keening, whining, noisily falling apart for him as he rocks. Paul smiles against your skin, peppering you in soft kisses as he takes his time.
Thunder rattles the wooden frame of the rectory, but you hardly notice. Paul drives himself inside you faster now, spearing every inch of his aching cock deep inside your heat. More sparks are flying now, he's brushing everything right within you. You can hear him grunting and gasping behind you, his breath fanning your skin as he bucks his hips. His fingers dig into your skin as he plaps noisily against your ass. Paul grunts, his movements stuttering and becoming uneven.
It spurs something in you, and you fuck yourself back against him. "P-please, please!" You cry as he desperately stuffs himself inside you. Paul bites your shoulder, muffling his groan as he sinks to the hilt. You flutter around him, your abrupt orgasm taking you by surprise as you clench on his throbbing cock. Groaning louder, he bruises your skin as he empties directly against your cervix, the hot flood of his cum making you whimper and grind into him.
As he calms, he lowers your leg and pulls you into him further by wrapping his arms around you. Paul enjoys the rapid patter of your heartbeat, and he licks over the bitemark he left. You were melting, sinking back into him and closing your eyes as you smiled. "Thanks," you giggle, feeling him pause in licking you. "For distracting me from the storm. I think it helped quite a lot." His chest rattles with a soft chuckle. The two of you remained embraced while it continued to pour outside, safe and warm together from the storm.
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lesbianoms · 4 months
Text
Fantasizing about going out on a date with an older woman who seems pure and vanilla on the surface. We end up talking about personal stuff and somehow end up on the subject of kinks.
After a while I reluctantly reveal to her that I’m into vore, and after telling her what it is her eyes widen in surprise and she just says, “oh.”
We say goodbye to each other and I go home, agonizing over the date and her mannerisms and overthinking literally everything like the gay little disaster I am.
And then I get a text. From her. And it’s a video.
I open it up and she’s standing in her bedroom, grinning warmly. She explains, “I thought about what you told me, and I wanted to do something special for you.”
She picks up a container and there’s a tiny inside, a man, who looks 0% frightened and 110% pissed off. My jaw probably drops at this point.
“Don’t ask how, but I managed to get my ex-husband shrunk down to a more… bite-sized helping.”
He looks about 4-6 inches tall, like he fits perfectly on her palm. She picks him up by the collar of his shirt, licking her lips. Her ex starts thrashing and shouting at her to let him go, put him down, how she’s a psycho and he’s glad he divorced her, etc.
She completely ignores his protests and his shouts of anger and just smiles into the camera.
“This one’s for you, sweetie~”
She lowers him towards her mouth.
“You crazy bitch! Let me go! I swear to God I’ll-”
Slurp. Her lips close around him before he can finish. I hear a loud gulp on camera and she tilts her head up as she slowly, seductively traces his shape down her throat.
Then she lifts up her shirt revealing her bare tummy. She hums softly, posing with her arms above her head, and the video is in such high quality that I’m able to see the exact moment he lands in her stomach.
She lets out a small burp, chuckling as she pats her belly. Pulling the camera close, she says in a milky purr, “Wanna listen?”
Immediately she presses her phone up to the center of her belly, and I hear the loud roar of her stomach fill my headphones. Between all the glorps and gurgles of her sexy stomach, I can hear the muffled sounds of her ex-husband’s voice. He’s cursing her, screaming at her and demanding to be let out.
“Bet you wish that was you, huh?” she asks. Her mature voice goes even lower as she teases me.
The video focuses on the close-up of her belly for a few minutes. She’s moving it every now and then so that it slowly sloshes up and down, like a belly dancer. I can hear the digestive groans of her ex inside, being felt up and squeezed by her walls. The sounds both relax me and turn me on, and being able to watch him squirm inside of her is really something else ❤️
“Come with me.”
She takes the camera with her as she walks down to the kitchen, where she opens up the fridge and takes out a bottle of wine. She places the camera on the kitchen counter, angling it so that the view is just under her belly.
I can see the writhing form of her prey as he gets churned around by her stomach walls. She uncorks the wine, pours herself a glass, lifts it up towards the camera in a toast.
“Cheers,” she says slyly, and she begins downing the glass.
I can hear the wine filling her up and entering her tummy, sloshing around inside as the wiggling lump of her ex-husband cries out. He disappears from view for a second until she pushes out her stomach, and I hear the bubbling of brewing wine mixed with the occasional groans of a liquid-filled gut. I can only imagine him sloshing around in there with the wine…
“Oh, I’m gonna feel that in the morning-”*uurrp!!*
She walks back to the bedroom, pressing the phone to her belly so that I can hear each slosh of its contents as she ascends the staircase.
“You know, I can feel that bastard struggling in there... I think he's trying to give me indigestion. Like he hasn’t already given me enough bellyaching when we were married! ... I'm sure you'd be much better behaved~"
Hearing back into the bedroom, she lays on the bed. She points the phone down at her tummy and pats it. The noises from inside are clear as day on the video.
About a minute or so of rubbing her active belly, she pulls down her jeans and tugs on the band of her underwear so that more of her lower belly is visible.
“Wanna see something cool?” she asks.
She puts the camera down with her other hand and feels around for her ex-husband, pressing down on a slightly bulging spot on her tummy.
“There he is,” she mumbles.
Then, she takes the front of her fingers and massages deep into her belly, kneading, pressing into her gut with an audible glorp.
I watch as she pushes the shape along her skin, towards her pelvis, and with a rush I realize what she’s doing. A particularly loud gurgle sounds out from her middle as she guides him down into her lower belly. I hear his muffled moaning as he shifts through her.
“Oohhh, I think he’s in my intestines now~” she says seductively.
I can see the wiggling form below her belly button, and I imagine what it must be like for him in there. So tight, and hot, and wet, and slippery… I wonder how much he’s filling out her bowels as he moves around inside…
She hums in delight and traces circles around him. His struggles pick up the pace as he seemingly tries to fight his way out of his ex-wife’s body. She squirms in pleasure, twirling the elastic band of her underwear and rubbing her lower belly with her other.
Eventually her body tires him out, and when his movements begin to slow, she pulls the elastic out and snaps it back so that it covers the bulge he makes completely. Covered by both flesh and cloth now, her belly bulge of an ex-husband whimpers faintly. His fate is sealed; her stomach gives a satisfied grumble.
Lifting the camera, she says, “Did you enjoy your surprise, honey? Ah, I hope you did. I can’t wait to see you again… and I’d love to feel you inside me. I’m still new to this whole thing, maybe you could give me some pointers. And I’m sure your cute little body would fill me riiight up~”
She looks down at her abdomen and frowns, huffs out a sigh, and finishes with, “Gotta go now, my hubby isn’t- *hic* quite agreeing with me…”
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pinkwright · 1 year
Text
baby, let me know if u wanna roll | shuri udaku.
ƸӜƷ
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pairing — panther!shuri x partygirl!y/n
trope — bestfriends 2 lovers
inspo — hip hop star by beyoncé feat. (big boi & sleepy brown)
warnings — fingering (both receiving), cunnilingus (reader receiving), possessive!shuri. enhanced!shuri as in the panther spirit inside her is almost personified (??) (idk how to describe it), confident reader, sub!reader, soft dom!shuri, handsy!shuri, overstimulation. dirty talk, humiliation kink, needy!shuri, jealous!shuri but literally so slight like just blink n you'll miss it, the alarm in the beginning is an alarm for five mins before midnight, n yeah.
a/n — if theres errors thats my bad, hope u enjoy ! <3
⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @shurismainbxtch @verachii @rxcently @shuriszn
bad boots on, pants down low. i’m a rockstar. baby, let me know if u wanna ride with a hip hop star.
the swing of your hips is entrancing, the heavy bass guiding the silky whining of your waist as you let the music flow through you. the hem of your skirt is sitting dangerously high on your thighs, the length of your legs glistening under the flashing lights when, suddenly, the vibration of your phone jolts in your hand, which makes a smile break through your lips before you spin on your heels to gaze up at the elevated platform ahead.
the familiar figure leaning over the railing already has her eyes on you, her fingers stroking her chin as she lets her eyes slide down your figure, and the smirk she flashes you sends you reeling. your smile widens before you lift your arm and gesture to your wrist with the pointer finger of your opposite hand, the drink in your hand sloshing in your excitement, as you make a rapid cue to your imaginary watch.
shuri raises her eyebrow in amusement before slightly jerking her head back, calling you to come to her while her hands move to adjust the silk over her torso. the click of your heels washes away with the volume of the lively club, the smile on your face light as you make your way through the bodies of the familiar faces you had invited to tonight’s event, offering short but friendly greetings.
you dance your way through the crowd, ever the party girl, making your way up the stairs that lead to where shuri was, the entrance to the platform secluded from the chaos that was the heart of the club, and you glide through the hanging crystal curtain that acted as a makeshift door, quickly glancing at your phone, seeing the time switch to midnight, then you’re lifting your gaze to sweep over the space, your sight quickly landing on her.
the smile that hasn’t left your face widens as you make your way towards her, quickly placing your drink on the centre table as you walk before you take to sweeping your gaze over her, she is turned toward you, and her back is pressed against the railing that overlooks the dance floor. you lean yourself between her spread legs, bringing your arms around her neck as you heavily press into the warmth of her body, and the squeal that escapes from you brushes against her neck, making her chuckle lowly.
her own hands place themselves on your hips before sliding up along your waist, her tall frame leaning forward into the gentle pull of your arms, and as she brings her touch to the bare skin of your upper back, she firmly presses you into her, “happy birthday, babe.” your hands are trailing along her strong shoulders as you pull back from the dip of her neck to press a kiss against the skin of her cheek, “the mighty panther’s finally the big twenty-two.”
a heavy laugh crawls from your chest as you jerk in her hold, her hands dropping to squeeze your waist as she rolls her eyes at your teasing, a smile pulling at her lips as she looks down at you. there’s a loud call of her name that has her eyes reluctantly pulling away from yours, your body detaching from hers as there’s soon a multitude of birthday greetings flooding shuri, a genuine smile lighting up her face as she happily receives the warm cheers and hugs.
the music is cutting off, the flashing lights dimming, just as you planned, before the double-tier cake is brought into the room and placed on the big table in the centre, the cheers from the club are steady as you go to grab shuri’s hand, pulling her to take her seat in front of the cake as you stand beside her seated figure.
a bashful smile spreads across her lips when everyone starts singing for her, her arm shooting out towards you at the giggle you let out at the sight, pulling you to sit on her lap before her warm hands slide up the skin of your thighs, coming to rest heavily just before the hem of your skirt, her long fingers falling between the crevice of your legs as if they belonged there.
shuri’s the life of the party, the crowd circled around her as she dances, the people moving with her, and her energy is plausible, raising the energy of the crowd around her to where everyone was having an unforgettable time alongside their queen. you smile fondly, shifting slightly on the barstool before lifting the sweet cocktail to your lips, sliding your eyes to the busy bartender to resume the conversation you were having with him, a light laugh slipping through you at his joking words.
five minutes of back and forth chatting pass before strong arms circle around your waist, shuri’s head coming to rest along your shoulder before she hums, using her strength to firmly pull you off your seat, your hand coming to rest over hers as you startle, your drink forgotten on the bar. her sharp eyes, unbeknownst to you, cut harshly at the man before you, the sheer authority flowing through her causing his gaze to lower as he clears his throat.
“dance with me, my love.”
she’s already pulling you towards the dance floor, the crowd parting for her as she walks with you in tow, choosing a darker spot in the space before she spins you around, letting go of your hand to slide both her hands under the loose fit of your top and settle them on the heated skin of your waist. her head dips to where her curls skim over your neck as she pulls you closer, pressing your hips against her, then her hands are guiding you to whine against her slowly but firmly, your breath catching at the way she manhandled you as if she owned you.
the thought makes you chastise yourself, you were friends, that’s it, but it doesn’t stop the clenching of your thighs when her wandering hands travel your moving form; the right sliding further up to rest just below the band of your bra, the entirety of her palm pressing over the rise of your heaving ribs while the left hand slid down the front of you, over the top of your thigh, where it pauses over your skirt, the firm press causing the hem to rise.
the placement makes you gasp, and shuri feels it under her grip, feels you, and it tempts her, you tempt her. she shifts her hanging head to where her lips can skim over your sweet skin, her mouth parting against your exposed collarbone causing your head to tilt, wanting more of her. that makes the taller girl insatiable, and calls forward the predator within her, she can hear the depth of your breath, feel the pump of your blood under her fingertips, smell the desire you have for her, and it makes the panther purr in response.
and before you can blink, shuri’s pulling you through the crowd and out of the club. when you come out of the daze she spun you into, you’re already seated in the passenger seat of her car, and your jaw is dropping in disbelief, as she drives off. “shuri!” you screech, “you can’t just leave your own fucking party like that!” and the sound makes her laugh, and shake her head before she responds, her voice cocky and low.
“i do what i want, s’thandwa.”
the words dry up your throat, the effortless air of dominance surrounding her permeating your skin, unconsciously coaxing you to submit to her, and you let your lips part before letting out an awkward chuckle. the heat inside of you scratches at your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe, shuri smirks before she parks in front of the palace, seeing a second car pull up beside them that she ignores; stepping out to pull you towards her chambers.
“ayo and aneka, you’re dismissed for the night. y/n will be retiring with me.” she calls the words over her shoulder, using what you always tease as her 'queen voice'.
the heat rushes to your face as you continue your journey, your sleeping with her wasn’t uncommon nor was it new, but the implications of the words always embarrassed you, because all you ever did was sleep. to foreign ears though, it sounded like she was on her way to tear you apart, to completely ravage you in the time you spent together behind those closed doors.
your train of thought is interrupted when shuri’s bedroom door clicks closed behind you, the girl kicking off her shoes before kneeling to slide off yours, her hands gentle as she manoeuvres you by your calves, her fingers working to slide the shoes off and you place your hand on her shoulder to steady yourself.
when she rises, she makes sure to follow the length of your legs, a gasp cutting through the atmosphere as the movement of her hands causes a slight lift of your skirt before it drops again when her hands come to hold your triceps, and she’s standing upright. she’s not letting your gaze leave hers as she walks you by your arms to her bed, and you follow, follow her like a lost puppy. the pulse between your legs intensifies when she gently pushes you onto her soft silk sheets.
you’re giggling lightly at her cheeky smile, her lithe figure throwing itself atop you before her arms come to split your legs as she settles between them. her head is against your chest as you lift your hands to the soft coils of her hair, and shuri lets out a satisfied sigh. the atmosphere is comfortable as you play with her hair, her head is laid sideward on your chest so shuri can listen to the steady beat of your heart, and she finds herself quickly agreeing with the panther inside her when she deems it to be the sound of their home.
although, as time passes shuri begins to get restless, so words flow out of her mouth to distract herself, “thank you for tonight, s’thandwa, you know you didn’t have to go all out like that for me.” her hands tighten their hold on you in gratitude, bast, what would she do without you. your chest shakes lightly in a fond giggle, your lips parting in protest, “nuh-uh, i had to go all out for the person i love, please be so serious, and don't thank me, babe.” when your laugh quietens down, you fondly add to your tender words.
 “anything for the birthday girl.”
and the words jar her, suddenly, the heat of your body against her, the thrum of your heart in her ears, and the softness of your skin underneath her has her feeling absolutely primal, itching to claim you. she exhales as she slides up against you bringing her face to rest in the dip of your neck as she breathes you in, the action making you gasp lightly causing your hand to slide gently to hold the back of her neck, the other dropping to hold your rising skirt down.
there’s a pause before she’s humming, “you smell good.” another pause, then her lips are sliding across your skin, her mouth parting so she can taste you, murmuring into your skin, “so fucking good, baby.”
the gasp of her name is loud, and you’re instinctively bringing your two hands to grip her shoulders tightly, trying to ignore the heat of her coiling muscles under her thin shirt, your legs clenching around her hips, “we shouldn’t, shuri.”
your words are breathy, unconvincing even to yourself and the dripping wetness between your legs. her lips continue their trail against your neck, your head tilted to allow her to continue, and her rough hands tighten around your thighs, spreading you further open for her before her words seep into your pliant body.
“it’s my birthday, baby.” the words ignite the heat inside you. “you gonna let me touch my pretty girl?” and it has your mind spinning, your nails digging into the silk of her shirt as she sucks your skin into her mouth, “let me, baby, please?” the raw need in her voice has your head nodding aggressively, your hips bucking up into her as you whimper.
she pulls her face back to look into your eyes and her face is serious as she stares into you, “need you to use those words for me, baby.” you’re gasping out pleas that make her hum, before she's sliding her hands down your quivering thighs, her torso lifting off of you as she grips under your knees to gaze at the soaking lace between your thighs, letting out a deep groan at the sight.
“that’s my good fucking girl.”
you shy away as she looks at you, she’s soaking up the sight of you so deeply that it forces you to shut your eyes as you whine, long and needy, your head turning to bury your face in the sheets that smell like her, your legs failing to close around the grip she has on you.
the sight of her stubborn, headstrong, and independent friend whom she’s, quite frankly, in love with, being so meek and pliant under her has shuri’s own core clenching, a taunting laugh escaping her lips as she finally slides down the bed to lay on her stomach, her head between your legs.
“look at me, y/n.”
her hands rip the dainty material around your hips, and it makes you momentarily clench your eyes even tighter, fisting the sheets beside your head before you reluctantly flutter your eyes open, your hips bucking when you catch the sight of shuri between your legs. she's gazing at you so erotically it makes your cheeks burn with blood, your body clenching tightly with embarrassment as you force yourself to breathe deeply.
“want you to watch me while i eat my pretty baby’s pussy for my birthday, okay?”
the words make you moan, your thighs are straining against her hands that press on either side of your exposed heat, and she’s holding your thighs open as she licks her lips, the action making you burn, and you’re crumbling under the humiliation coursing through you. your eyes are stuck on hers as if you’re in a trance, her tongue sliding out before she glides the muscle across the entirety of your pussy, letting out a tortured groan that has you clenching hard, a loud moan punching through your chest.
your hips are jerking into her tongue as she works through your seeping folds, devouring you tirelessly, and it makes it difficult for you to breathe. your stomach clenching tight as you bring your hands to her hair, your head dropping back as you arch further into her mouth, murmuring incoherently.
“please, please, oh my god, please.”
your hips are canting against her lips, her tongue sliding over your clit making you cry out loudly, the coil in your lower stomach tightening as you gasp wetly, then shuri’s pulling her mouth away from you, her arm coming to press your hips into the mattress when they chase her, halting your movements.
“i thought i told you to keep your eyes on me, princess?”
her words are warning, slicing through your dazed state as you snap your head up quickly finding her eyes on you, “there we go.” she coos the words out, her hand sliding over your clit before circling the ring of your clenching entrance and you’re begging her to touch you and it makes feel shuri high, feeds her alter’s predatory nature.
she slides her long fingers into you, her pace hard but controlled as she thrusts in and out of your warm walls, groaning before she sinks back down to wrap her pretty lips around your pulsing clit, and the action has your breath stuttering. your body tightens again before shuri brushes roughly against your spot, her lips suckling your bud as she hums into you, and you’re crying out as you orgasm, your legs trembling as you arch your back.
shuri’s whispering praises into your spasming pussy, her fingers still slowly pushing through you, carving her place inside you, inside her pussy and the thought makes her purr, her pace slowly picking up, and you whimper. your hips chasing her fingers and she chuckles at how needy you were being, “can’t, c-can’t, please.” your voice is wet with tears, and her voice is soft as she coos at you lovingly.
“thought you said anything for the birthday girl, baby?”
your hips desperately chase her now still fingers, unconsciously using them to pleasure yourself and shuri’s grunting as she slides her eyes along your figure, “fuck, that’s right, use my fingers to make my greedy pussy come, s’thandwa.”
her words spur you on, the tears trailing down your cheeks as you chase another release, your thighs trembling violently as shuri just watches you, watches how you use her and her eyes are sharp, glaring at your dripping cunt as you clench around her. she sighs before lifting her free hand to press against your lower stomach, then her fingers are unrelenting, ruthlessly dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting the tissue inside you over and over again.
“i’m coming, i’m coming, shuri, please, don’t stop.”
your voice breaks around the words as you sob out, the ball in your stomach releasing so heavily that your body jerks aggressively, your breathing heavy as shuri soothes your cries, dropping gentle kisses along your quivering thighs, squeezing your skin to bring you back to her. she lifts herself to peck your parted lips, her teeth digging repeatedly into the soft pillow of your bottom lip as she waits for you to calm down, humming at the taste of you, and the slight pinches of pain make you whimper softly.
“bast, baby, you make me so wet.”
her words are breathed into your mouth, and they make you so warm, the idea that someone so powerful was dripping because of you, when you hadn’t even touched her, the notion makes you gasp. “can i touch you?” your voice is shaky, and so needy, that it makes shuri exhale heavily before she rolls to lie beside you, her hand reaching for the thigh of your leg furthest from her, to bend it across her lap, pulling you to press against her side.
your heart is pounding as she reaches for your hand, guiding it down her tense stomach before she lowly orders you to unbutton her pants, your trembling fingers comply before she grabs your wrist gently and slips it past the band of her underwear to rest directly on her wet pussy. and you gasp so hard, your body bucking against her when you feel just how wet she was for you. the lithe girl lets out a soft sigh as she brings her head to your neck, her breath fanning against your ear as she guides your fingers through her.
“just like that, baby.”
her voice is breathy, low, and so soft, that it makes you clench, your fingers slipping to circle her clit, desperate to hear more from her and she moans out in response, her hand just gripping your wrist, no longer guiding you. she’s breathing heavily into your neck as you increase your pace, drawing tight figure eights along her, the sweet, breathy noises falling from her prompting you to slide your fingers to her entrance and she stills when you press against her opening. your voice is soft as you shyly ask her, “is this okay?”
in response, shuri’s hips buck against your fingers, and her words are needy in your ears, “please, baby.”
the fire in your chest burns brighter before you’re slipping your digits into her warmth in response to her breathy plea, her walls clenching around you when you go to thrust gently in and out of her and shuri’s moaning out, her slim hips canting to the steady rhythm of your thrusts and the sight makes you unbelievably horny.
when you add another finger and angle them upwards, the panther’s hips stutter as she wetly gasps around your name. her head lifting as she brings her stagnant hand to curl around your throat, bringing your gaze to hers as she pants against your parted lips.
“that’s it, make me come, baby, please.”
shuri’s pleads are light, breathed softly into the air but still commanding, and it makes your aching pussy clench, how was someone so deadly so soft against you, bathing in the throes of her pleasure so gently. you increase your pace, making sure to graze her soft spot with each deep stroke you give, and then her body is stilling.
her mouth lets out the loudest moan you’ve heard from her, one that contrasts so greatly with the rasp of speech, her voice is deep and heavy as she switches to her native tongue, speaking the words into your mouth, “ndiyaphila, s’thandwa sam’ (i'm coming, my love.).”
her shaking thighs close around your working hand as she shakes through her orgasm and the sight makes you whimper, your hand only stopping when she grunts and tightens her grip on your wrist, sliding your hand out of her pants before clenching her thighs tightly again.
her shut eyes flutter open to gaze intensely at you when you’re being too quiet, her mouth dropping open when she sees you bring your fingers to your lips, sucking them clean gently with a hum before releasing them with a soft pop, startingly when you open your eyes and meet her blazing eyes.
the queen’s eyes close to gather the last strands of her self-control before she breathes out heavily, “fuck, you want to kill me, princess.”
then you’re squealing as she throws herself onto you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she pushes your bodies to lay on her bed, pressing you tightly against her as you giggle, shifting to snuggle against her; not worried about your party clothes, nor about the volume of your laughs – just existing with each other and basking in your shared love.
do i blow you away? do i stimulate your mind? would you taste my love, if i gave you time?
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