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#who i gotta beg for prompts
cowboy-anon · 2 years
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CW: Pet whump It’s Take Your Pet to Work Day and everyone is bringing like their dogs and cats and stuff and then someone walks in with their human whumpee on a leash-
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steddieas-shegoes · 16 days
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never gonna give you up
for @steddiemicrofic "fake" prompt that needed to include the words: and, around, desert, down, give, gonna, let, never, run, up, you
1987 words | rated e | no cw | tags: modern au, flirting, bisexual steve harrington, handjobs, some platonic stobin, ridiculous and unserious
😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎
"This might be the first time someone's deserted me in the middle of a date," Steve said into the phone.
"You aren't counting that one time Sarah left during the movie?" Robin asked.
"She had a family emergency!" Steve exclaimed.
"Right, and I'm definitely going on a date with a dude later."
"You're saying she didn't have a family emergency?"
Steve remembered that date, remembered how she'd even had tears in her eyes when she said her mom called and she had to run home.
"You're gonna unpack that all night, aren't you?" Robin sighed on the other end. "Steve, just go home. Take a week off from trying to get into some poor woman's pants. Leave some of them for me to get into. I beg you."
"What makes you think they'd come running to you?" Steve looked over at a guy standing at the counter of the diner, clearly trying to pick up his order. From the back, he seemed tall, but that could be the black skinny jeans and boots combo.
"Let me talk to them for one minute and I'll have them convinced."
The guy turned as the woman behind the counter walked to the kitchen, his eyes settling on Steve talking on his cell phone at the table in the corner. It's not like there were many people here on a Monday night, nothing else to look at but Steve awkwardly sitting by himself with two glasses on the table.
The guy started to walk over, and Steve recognized him immediately.
"Gotta go, Robs."
"What? How are you done wallowing already?"
He hung up before she could continue, putting his phone face down on the table.
"Well, well, well. Never thought I'd see the day where Steve Harrington shows back up in Hawkins."
Eddie Munson didn't know shit about Steve, never really had. He thought he did, just like everyone else in high school, but the gossip that followed him around never had much truth to it. He really only had two girlfriends for most of high school, and only one of them was serious enough for him to sleep with.
The sleeping around came after his move to Chicago, when he was constantly surrounded by women who would give him all the attention he wanted.
"Never really thought I'd be back," he said with a genuine smile. Kill them with kindness or whatever his grandmother used to say.
It seemed to throw Eddie off at least, his mouth opening and closing around whatever rebuttal he planned.
"So why are you here? Visiting the parents?" Eddie crossed his arms, leaned his hip against the edge of the table.
"Nah, came to visit Dustin Henderson. Staying for a few more days and thought it would be nice to take someone out. I guess she didn't agree," Steve shrugged.
Eddie glanced down at the empty spot across from him, the glass on the table with half of the drink missing. He looked back at Steve's face.
He sat down across from him and smirked.
"So. Come here often, sunshine?"
Steve snorted, shaking his head as he looked up at Eddie.
"Not as often as I would if I was coming to see you," Steve replied, taking a sip of his drink.
Eddie clearly wasn't expecting him to flirt back. He recovered quickly, though.
"I suppose we could fix that, then, huh?"
Steve looked him up and down, taking in the messy bun his curly hair was pulled into, the pen mark on his cheek, tattoos up and down his arm.
"I suppose we could."
Waking up in Eddie Munson's bed was definitely not what he expected when he arrived in Hawkins two days ago, but stranger things had happened.
He opened his eyes to sunlight streaming in through the curtains and Eddie's warm body pressed against his back.
Neither of them had gotten dressed after their shower last night, too tired to do anything more than rinse off the sweat and cum from hours of making each other come undone.
Steve let himself have this. Eddie would kick him out when he woke up, kindly of course, but he'd make it clear to Steve that this was a one night thing. No matter how good it was, Steve wasn't an idiot. He knew Eddie would never actually be interested in a guy like him.
"Mmm. Stop thinkin' s' loud," Eddie's lips brushed against the back of Steve's neck in a half-kiss, sending a shiver down his spine. "'s too early."
Steve smiled to himself, let Eddie's arms tighten around him and hold him close for a bit longer.
"I should probably head back to the Henderson's. Claudia will be worried if I'm not there for lunch," Steve said quietly.
"Just text Dustin, tell him your date went well."
Steve shouldn't get his hopes up. It's not like he was gonna do long distance, and even if he would be willing, there was no way Eddie would.
"I can't lie to him," Steve felt his heart flip flop in his chest at the admission.
Eddie's head lifted and his breath hit the side of Steve's face instead of his shoulder. "Did it not go well? I thought it- well, I thought it went great, actually."
Steve turned in Eddie's arms, facing him, placing his hands on his chest. "It did go well! It did."
"Okay, then…"
"It's just this wasn't exactly a date, was it? You just felt bad for me, probably wanted to see if the rumors were true."
"What rumors?"
"You know. The ones about me sleeping around, being good with my mouth." Steve's eyes searched Eddie's, looking for any hint of recognition. When none came, he continued. "How I let anyone fuck me on the first date?"
Eddie's brows furrowed. "Is that what people say about you?"
"You don't have to act dumb, Eddie. Some of it's true."
Eddie's hands were rubbing up and down his back, making goosebumps appear on his skin. "You are good with your mouth. That one’s true. The rest though? I never believed any of that shit.”
“Really? Why not?”
Eddie’s hand traced along Steve’s only tattoo, a robin placed just under his collarbone. “Because I never gave much thought to rumors. Lord knows most of the ones about me weren’t true.”
Steve thought about all the rumors he’d heard about Eddie in high school.
Back then, he may have believed some of them, but he had firsthand experience with things getting out of hand.
“You can think what you want, but I brought you back here because I genuinely enjoyed talking to you at the diner. I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wanted to get rid of you. Trust me. I’m not really a one and done guy,” Eddie’s hand cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing along his cheekbone. “If you’re in a rush to go, I can’t stop you. But I think staying in bed with you all morning sounds pretty fuckin’ good.”
Steve’s breath hitched, his heart kicked up in his chest. “You know, I’ve actually never bottomed before last night.”
Eddie’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Never?”
Steve shook his head. “Never found anyone I could trust to be gentle.”
“Was I gentle enough? Shit, you should’ve told me. I used spit as lube, Steve! That couldn’t have been comfortable.” Eddie pulled away a few inches, mumbling to himself in a panic.
“Eddie.” Steve tried to get his attention back on him. “Eds.”
Steve shifted forward, his front pressing against Eddie’s, his half-hard cock finding friction against Eddie’s thigh.
They both groaned as Steve rocked against him again.
“Everything was perfect, Eds. Only thing that would make it better is if I get to watch you come again right now," Steve said against his lips, pushing his hips forward so their cocks brushed against each other.
"Fuck, keep doing that and you'll get your wish, sweetheart."
He was sensitive, worked up from the hot breath against his mouth, the tongue brushing against his bottom lip. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd been this wrapped up in someone, this attentive to the sounds they made, this focused on making sure they both felt good.
The friction was enough on its own to get Steve to the edge, and if Eddie's moans were anything to go off of, he was right there with him.
Steve never felt safe enough to be loud, not until he had Eddie begging him to make noise.
"C'mon, Stevie. Wanna hear how good you feel. Sounds so good when you can't hold it back," Eddie's hand gripped his hip, tugging him closer. They were both leaking precum, dripping down each other's lengths and losing track of where one of them ended and the other began.
Steve couldn't hold it back, didn't want to anyway. Letting Eddie hear how good he felt was a need.
"You gonna come with me, sweetheart?" Eddie gasped out as he wrapped his hand around both of them, slowing his hips to focus on moving his hand, finding the perfect angle and pace to get them both over the edge.
Steve bit his lip and nodded, barely holding back a whimper as Eddie's grip tightened around them.
"Come for me, Stevie."
Eddie's voice had a direct link to Steve's cock, maybe through the hand wrapped around him. Steve came with a shout, curling forward so his forehead fell against Eddie's shoulder.
He was overstimulated, fighting the urge to buck into his hand and pull away at the same time.
Steve pulled his head back to watch as Eddie groaned, cum hitting both of their stomachs as he worked himself through his orgasm.
They both lay there in silence, Eddie's grip loose around them as they both softened. They'd need to clean up before the cum dried in Steve's chest hairs and made them sticky, but moving seemed like an impossible task.
"You live in Chicago now?" Eddie asked suddenly, making Steve jump. He rubbed his cleaner hand on his back in silent apology.
"Yeah," Steve breathed out. "With Robin Buckley. From band?"
"I know Robin. She used to come to my shows before she moved."
"Small world."
Eddie snorted. "Just Hawkins." Eddie sat up, pulling Steve with him. "You know, the guys in my band have been considering moving to Chicago. Think it's a good place for a metal band?"
Steve searched his face for any clues as to what he was really asking. Certainly he didn't expect Steve to know if a metal band would feel at home somewhere.
"I…guess?" Steve answered.
"I'll just text Robin," Eddie wiped his hand on the sheets and reached over to the bedside table to grab his phone.
"Wait. You keep in touch with Robin?" Steve felt like he was being pranked.
"Not as much as I should, but yeah. We caught up last time she visited her parents." Eddie typed on his phone for a moment, then looked up at Steve with a smirk. "Problem with that?"
"No, I'm just kinda shocked she's never really mentioned it." Steve stood up with shaking legs. "I should probably grab a shower and go."
"You normally a runner?" Eddie asked, amused.
"No? Why do you ask?"
"It's just the second time you've been rushing to leave. Thought I told you I wanted you here."
Steve knew what he wanted, and he knew it was too much, too fast, too ridiculous for Eddie to even consider it.
But maybe, if he played his cards right, maybe he could have Eddie for more than today.
"Shower with me?" Steve settled on, pouting his bottom lip out.
"And then?" Eddie pushed.
Steve didn't know what to do, but he knew what he wanted.
"And then we'll go back to the diner and actually eat something together." Eddie nodded, encouraging him to continue. "And then you give me your number."
"For?"
"Planning our next date."
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oozedninjas · 1 month
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Spring fleeting
A/N: Fucking rude of me not to have fed my pretty girlies in this much while. In compensation, I offer you: a mating season special!!! You can shoot in a prompt and I'll turn it into a short smut ;) ily!!
Warnings: 18+ / MDNI / Smut / NSFW / edging, orgasm denial, dom!turtles, oral sex / General verses / Mutant guys are 25-29 y/o and they're suffering from spring heat!
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Leo doesn't want to breathe because if he does he might get carried away by your scent. He watches from a safe distance never leaving sight of your neck and shoulders. Fuck, he wants to bite them, suck on them, lick a stripe over your pulse line that would cut your breath sharply. Shit, he wants you to hold from the upper end of his shell, begging. Before he registers he's calling your name. Let him lure you elsewhere, yeah?
Raph loves fucking you stupid. Your eyes closed and gaped mouth have him on the verge of coming. Words scarcely coherent enough to moan for more. He's balls deep in you, aching to fill you up once more. But Raph edges himself, just for the bliss of numbing everything away with each crashing orgasm. 
He trembles inside you, cum dripping from your abused cunt as he thrusts. Fuck you love him, you're crazy about him, and he just grins, amused at your stupid failed attempts to communicate it.
Donatello's knowledge of each sensitive part in your body borders on mean when he uses it like this. From your neck to your back, to your lower half. He's held you still for what feels like ages, nibbling, marking, and kissing the bruise after. But none of what he's done equals the cruel way he's sucking your clit: just enough to make your back arch, but never quite granting release. 
Begging wouldn't suffice, it wasn't about that. It was about him showing you how fucking good he could make you feel if you let him, how hard you could come just by his expert tongue. And shit, who are you kidding? You fucking adore it.
Mikey loves how hot you look riding his cock. He's got the best of views! Everything in you is perfect. He reaches up, palming every bit of skin he can get his hands on, squeezing, pinching, scratching. He loves it when his touch makes you weak enough to lose the rhythm, seemingly tumbling over his plastron, finally giving out. 
He's softer when he's had enough, and brings your mouth to his gently, big hands covering your back, pushing you down to his chest before he thrusts up. He reaches that sweet spot so easily like this, and your clit rubs so deliciously over the lower part of his plastron. Come on, don't hold back, you don't gotta do nothing, just relax.
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mulansaucey · 2 months
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Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts.
Azriel x Reader
Prompt: Rita has a new supply of Moonshine and gives a jar to the IC. This creates a blacked out drunk Azriel.
Warnings: alcohol use, flirting, suggestive, mentions of sex, drunken behavior. Let me know if I left anything out.
Note: Literally sitting in bed when I had this idea. This is just for fun and I hope you enjoy!
Music playing in the halls of Rita’s surrounds the Inner Circle as well as laughter. Shot glasses banging against their table, squeals of joy from seeing the glasses of those pretty cocktails that Feyre and Mor like so much, and the beautiful smile that graces my mates face. Tonight is for fun and bonding.
Azriel has been on a month long mission just returning to me a few days ago where we cooped up in our cozy home, enjoying the song of our mating bond before returning to society. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in my chest. Color, music, art becomes void. Life is not as exciting without him by my side. Even after decades of being married and mated the bond is still alive and thriving as if it was still the night he took a bite out of that meal I made him to accept him as my mate.
I’m an accomplished fae. I’ve strategized wars, wrote countless books on the plant life of Prythian that has helped healers cultivate new medicines, and have helped the Inner Circle for almost two centuries now. When he’s away, I keep myself occupied and have my job to thank for that but that aching feeling doesn’t go away.
That’s the strength of a mating bond, it brings males to their knees. It brought Azriel to his. Our souls submitting to one another and refusing to settle for anything less than each other.
“What’s so interesting, love?” Azriel teases as I can’t my eyes off him. Those hazel eyes trail over me, even in the haze of faelights it feels like he can see every inch of me. He bites his lip as if he’s recalling just a few hours ago when he was biting the meat of my thighs. I know I am. Heat rises in my cheeks as he laughs and leans down to the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. The bond between thrums with satisfaction that our beings are even closer now. His hand finds the back of my neck and he caresses.
“You, my heart. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.” I tease him back.
The shots making my mind looser and my flirty tendencies arise. I’m a horny drunk when it comes to this male. Who wouldn’t?
Azriel raises his brows and smirks. He leans down to press a sweet kiss then pulls back.
“You are lovely in this dress. I can’t wait to rip it off you tonight.” He says as he presses sweet kisses along my cheek and jaw.
“Azriel you better not! It’s embarrassing having to keep going to the tailor because you have no self control.”
“Self control? We’ll see how much self control I have later, you’ll begging for me I promise you that.” He laughs.
Suddenly a heavy presence can be felt behind us. I don’t even have to turn to know it’s Cassian.
He slaps the back of Azriel’s chair and loudly yells, “Stop the heavy petting and come to the bar, Rita just got a new drink called ‘Moonshine’ it’s apparently a lot stronger than any wine or whiskey.”
Cassian doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up while yelling over his shoulder, “If you want her, Az you gotta come get her!” We leave a trail of giggles as my grumpy mate follows.
Azriel trusts his brother and knows Cassian just missed him and wants to have fun. It’s why he doesn’t cut off his hands for touching my body.
Cassian drops me on a bar stool and leans over to drop a sloppy kiss to Nesta’s cheek as she bats him. From the corner of my eye though I can see her pulling him back to her to give him a proper kiss. I’m happy for my friends as they had a very tumultuous start to their mate ship. As I’m trying not to be nosy in my friends business Azriel comes to stand behind me, strategically blocking me from any other males or females view. Azriel is selfish when it comes to me. I can’t blame him, he’s waited centuries for me. And I him.
Rita walks up to us with a jar of clear liquid. It looks innocent, like water, but knowing her that liquid will make you regret ever being born. But that’s the appeal to Rita. She knows how to have fun and has quality supply.
“Alright ladies and gentlebats this is Moonshine. It’s technically whiskey but its process makes the alcohol stronger and you drunker quicker. I will give you a shot, on the house, if you like it I’ll sell a jar to you. This stuff is no joke and illegal in some courts. More recently our High Lord and Lady gave me the okay to produce it.” Rita winks to Feyre and Rhys.
We all look over them and Rhys shrugs, “Feyre wanted to try it, I couldn’t say no.”
We all laugh at the lack of ability our friend has to say no to his wife. I see Feyre eye the glass with excitement.
“Feyre you do the honors of first shot!” I yell out as she takes the glass and downs it in one gulp.
She freezes and we wait on bated breath. Her eye twitches and she gives a full body shiver. We break in laughter at her funny reaction as she immediately takes her fruity cocktail from Rhys, who was mid sip, and takes a few gulps.
Feyre’s face twist in disgust as she tells us, “That’ll definitely get you fucked up, I feel like I’ve grown chest hair.”
Laughter fills our area again. Rhys presses a kiss against Feyre’s head as he reaches for his own shot glass. Each of us besides Amren and Varian, who are currently in Summer, reach for our own. I clank my shot glass against Azriel’s and down my shot. I immediately regret this decision as pure alcohol burns my throat. It’s worse than the tonics Madja gives us. At least we get some what rewarded for that. I put my glass down and look over at my mate. His free hand softly rubbing my upper back, he downs the shot and smack his lips.
“It’s definitely strong but I don’t mind it.” Azriel says to the group.
I pout at him and say, “Of course it doesn’t bother you, Shadowsinger.” He rolls his eyes and moves his hand from the back of my neck to the front. Slowly moving my head back so far I have no choice but to look at him and only him.
“It’s Shadowsinger now is it?” He smirks down at me. Before I can reply peanuts that Rita supplies generously across her bar are being pelted at us. Azriel loosens his hold on me as we both turn to our family.
“You two are like bunnies, I feel like I need to spray you two with a bottle of water.” Nesta says.
I gasp and laugh out, “Like you have any room to talk! The House of Wind is contaminated with you and Cassian’s fluids.” All I get is more peanuts being thrown at me. The two of us dissolve into giggles as I throw them back at her. Cassian and Azriel having to take it away.
Cassian then turns his attention to Rita watching us in amusement.
“We’ll take a jar please, you always know how to make me feel good.” He winks at her. Rita rolls her eyes and passes him the jar.
“I’m charging you extra for that little stunt.” She says back to him.
“Oh c’mon that was a compliment! You’ve got the best stuff in the city.” He argues as Nesta shushes him. Nesta opted out of drinking, instead preferring to smoke mirthroot.
We all go back to our designated booth empty shit glasses in tow. We decide to play truth or drink. Azriel being the secretive person he is rather take the shot then tell the truth. I have a feeling he just wants to indulge the rare drink. I don’t blame him, he works hard for his court and he’s allowed to drop his inhibitions. Ever since we’ve gotten together I’ve taught him about self care and allowing one self to enjoy the moment. The centuries of training and spy work are still instilled in him, something even I can’t take away. But with the love of his mate and family he’s allowed himself to be happy.
I didn’t like the moonshine so I stuck to my cocktails then water, as I had a feeling someone needed to be more sober than the others. Azriel takes his eighth shot when he freezes. I still, looking around to see if anything was amiss. When I look back at him I see him smiling.
“You are a rare jewel.” He says so casually. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world. He reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes when instead he pokes me. This clumsy move tells me, he’s drunk. He giggles as I jump back slightly from a literal finger poking my eye.
“I’m so sorry love. Wow your skin is so soft.” Azriel starts touching my face in fascination. He then pulls me into his strong embrace. The awkward is angle but he just sighs constantly. Happy to be holding me. He starts petting my hair as if I’m a cute kitten.
The confused yet amused looks across the table have me pulling back from my mates embrace when he loudly says, “Noooooo, don’t leave me. I was so comfortable.”
I can hear and see Rhys and Cass laughing and clutching each other. Azriel RARELY gets drunk. I feel bad, maybe I should’ve limited how much he could drink since it’s not his usual stuff. Azriel has a fairly high tolerance for his usual whiskey or beer. Eight shots of his regular choice of drink would be nothing but him drinking moonshine has him reacting differently. I feel a little guilty but Azriel has carried me home and taken care of me plenty of times. Tonight I promise myself to return the favor.
“I know my heart, but I need a glass of water and so do you. I’ll be right back, I promise.” I caress his face and he looks at me with so much love I almost don’t want to go even if it’s a few minutes.
“Okay, hurry back. Take a shadow.” He says with a pout. A shadow always sticks with me regardless of his command or not. I shove my love down our bond for his thoughtfulness. Azriel gives me a goofy grin and pushes his love down to me.
“I need a drink, c’mon. Lover boy will be just fine.” Feyre says as she drags me away from my mate.
His eyes trailing after me until Cass and Rhys grab his shoulders to get his attention. Knowing my mate is in safe hands has me turning to Feyre. We talk a little about her art studio and Nyx. She confesses to having a bit of Mom guilt when she goes out. The alcohol making her a bit weepy from missing her son. I distract her by dragging her to the dance floor, after checking to make sure Azriel was still with the boys and has a glass of water.
After a few songs Mor and Nesta join us. I still keep an eye on my mate, making sure he’s okay and having fun. The next time I turn my eyes to him he’s gone. Panic fills my chest as I look around the bar for him. When I look up to the second floor I see him and his brother attempting to climb the rail. At that moment I decide it’s time to go home. I grab the girls and haul their asses the second floor before any of our mates cracks their skull open. The boys had way more moonshine than we did.
We successfully get them away from the railing, I grab Azriel’s face and he gently shoves me off of him. I frown at him, water lining my eyes at his rejection towards me. I go to ask him what’s wrong but before I do he tells me, “I am a mated male! You can not touch me.”
He sways a little grabbing onto Rhys for support. Rhys is already getting yelled at by his High Lady but she stops to turn to Azriel in amusement.
“What did he just say?” Feyre says to me. I stay silent for a moment realizing the situation. I slightly smile at my mates loyalty even though it is me who is touching him. I tell Feyre to grab Rhys and I can handle Azriel.
“Azriel, my heart. It’s me, I’m your mate.” I tell him gently helping him find his balance.
“I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mate. She will take care of me. I don’t need you.” As he’s still struggling to walk. I ignore him and help him down the stairs all the while he’s protesting insisting he has a wife and mate waiting for him at home. I roll my eyes fondly. Knowing it’s going to a rough walk home. He insists that I only touch his arm.
“I am a gentleman and my wife would be mad I let you walk home alone but I am not sharing a bed with you. She is only one I share my bed with. I love her.” He says to me, total seriousness.
I take a look at him noting his shirt is wrinkled from Cassian constantly grabbing onto him, his hair is wild, and his walk is staggered. I make a mental note to never let him drink Moonshine again. He trips slightly making me grab onto his back and front. He looks at me weirdly and takes my hands off his body.
“I don’t know youuuu. My body is reserved for my wife, I am fine with walking on my own.” His words are sloppy and he trips again. Laughing at him I ignore his protests and guide him to our shared home. The walk is a struggle as he keeps tripping yet insisting I keep my hands off him. I shove my love down the bond hoping he’ll recognize me that way. I feel more assured that even if I wasn’t with him and he was drunk he’d always come home to me. I hear him sigh with content and he lazily slaps his chest.
“This here, in my heart, she’s calling to me. I need to go home to her. I can feel her. I want to go home.” He pouts.
“Okay big guy, I’m gonna get you home to her. I’m sure she misses you.” I say, playing along. If I play along I’m hoping it’ll make him more amiable.
“She does! I can feel her even when I’m miles and miles away. I miss her too. Sometimes when I’m in the same room as her, I miss her. I just want her all to my self.” He confesses, I notice he’s started to slowly relax letting me guide him home. The thought of seeing me being his motivator. My heart is fluttering seeing him like this. Azriel is usually so smooth and calculated. His words to me sound like poetry, like a crafted song made just for me to hear. Now he’s confessing his love to, how he perceives, a stranger. Apart of me knows that he must know it’s me. Even if it’s deep down. But I can’t help but feel so special to him.
I finally spot our home, the sight of our porch makes me let an out a sound of relief.
Azriel looks to what I see and goes, “How do you know where I live? I don’t remember telling you. I wouldn’t have told you! I told you that I don’t want to go home with you.” He pushes himself away from me stumbling to our small gate. He struggled to unlock and me being exhausted from helping a 6’5 Illryian male slap his hands away and move to open it. He rubs his hand where I slapped and looks at me with a pout.
“Oh you’re okay! Stop being a baby and come inside please.” I tell him, laughing lightly at him. He moves to walk past me but turns before I can even take a step on the porch.
“This is as far as you can go. My wife will not be disrespected by having another female in our home.” He says with a serious face. The message isn’t as threatening since he’s still swaying and eyes glossed over. I smile at him and make a move to walk around him but he pushes his arms out, clumsily I might add, and repeats what he just said. I hold my arms up in surrender to this ridiculous statement.
“Azriel, my heart. I am your wife, you are mated to me. And I want to be in our bed and snuggle. Don’t you?” I ask giving him my best puppy dog eye. I don’t even know if it’ll work if the liquor made him forget who I was entirely. He goes to reply when he bends over to his side and pukes. I rush to his side and rub his back. He stand up again and leans against a pillar on our porch. His face smushed against it I can faintly hear.
“I want my mate…I’m not going home with you.” I roll eyes, trying not to get upset with him because it isn’t his fault and I know I’m not a doll to be around when I’m drunk. I walk towards our door, it unlocks automatically due to the ward Azriel insisted on placing. I try to gently push him inside. His wings knocking over a vase I was gifted from a past High Lord of Summer, I grimace as the antique lays broken on the floor. He looks around for what made the loud sound and he gasps loudly as if I was the one broken on the floor.
“My wife is going to kill me! Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my gods I need to go to summer now! I need to go before she notices it’s broken.” He says making a move for the door. I immediately put a stop to that and drag him to our bedroom. I think he’s exhausted himself and flops down on the bed. Not making any moves. I start unlacing his boot and once I’ve got them off I go for his pants.
He slaps my hands away and goes, “I can undress myself. You have no right to touch me there! Go home before my wife finds you, she’ll kill you. My mate is verrrry possessive of me. She won’t like youuuu.” He sings at me.
He starts giggling and taking off his pants and shirt while moving to grab my pillow and holds onto it like it’s the answer of all his prayers.
“I miss her so much. I’m in bed but she isn’t here. It smells like her, I never want to smell anything again. Only her.” I make a face at him, I didn’t see how that makes sense but he’s drunk so I don’t question it. I make sure he has a glass of water and is tucked into bed before I make my move to join him. As soon as I start to move the cover he jolts back up, still clutching my pillow.
“Thank you for taking me home but I insist you take the couch. I will never share a bed with another female. I will not have our marriage bed tainted by a stranger.” He says eyeing me like I’m the King of Hybern resurrected.
“Enough, sweetheart. Tonight has been really funny and sweet but I want to sleep. Don’t you want to cuddle?” I say, I glance at the clock noting the late hour. He doesn’t make a move and stays silent. Giving me the answer I needed.
“As I stated you can take the couch as thank you but you have to leave before my WIFE comes home.” Azriel states, emphasizing the wife part as if I’m the drunken one.
“Okay I give up, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight my love.” I say stealing a quick kiss from him that leaves him stuttering and blushing.
“Y-you just kissed me! That’s so rude, that’s-“ I close the door cutting off his rant. I go down the hall for our closet where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. I settle in our large and comfy couch that Azriel insisted on getting when we moved in. I’m now thankful he insisted. I start laughing recalling the night. Tonight was stressful but has shown me how loved I am. I have a male who’s loyal and kind. Even when he thought I was a stranger he wanted to walk me home so I wasn’t alone. I’m thankful to call him mine. I’m thankful to be his. I drift off to sleep with a soft smile, excited to tease him to no end in the morning for this stunt he pulled tonight.
——
Sunlight enters my home, the warmth of it caressing my cheek. I nuzzle closer to the warmth when I realize it’s Azriel’s hand. He’s sitting on the floor, his hair is a mess and he’s laying his head down close to mine. His eyes look groggy and I can tell he didn’t have a good sleep.
“Where were you last night? I couldn’t sleep without you.” He whispers gently, as if the sound of his own voice made his head ache.
I start laughing loudly, Azriel flinching back and rubbing his head. I start laughing so hard I start crying. My mate looks at me unamused.
“I’m sorry my love. But you literally kicked me out of our bed and made me sleep here. You insisted.” I tell him, laughter seeping through my words.
His mouth drops down in shock. He’s still rubbing his head and I feel bad so I start massaging his scalp the way I know he likes. I gets himself up off the floor and into my awaiting arms. Azriel secretly loves being the small spoon so I baby him and rub down his back and up into his scalp. The mating bond compelling me to make sure he’s okay and loved.
I start recalling the night for him. Apparently after that eighth shot he completely blacked out. He doesn’t remember a single thing from last night past that point. He grumbles and hides his face in my neck. His words coming out muffled.
“I’m so sorry. I hate not being in control like that. I’m sorry for treating you like that.” He says while pressing kisses on my neck and he squeezes me even tighter.
“It’s okay, you’ve taken care of me plenty of times when I’m drunk. I’m glad you were having fun and it was really sweet of you to defend my honor and our bond even if it was me. I love you so much for it.” I tell him making sure his eyes were on me. I cradled his face, caressing the scars and stubble that reside there. He leans down to give me soft kiss once, twice, three times before he nuzzles his nose against mine.
Azriel may be hard to read, stoic, and cold to everyone else but here, in the privacy and intimacy of our home he’s lovable and soft. A privilege to be able to see this of side. The decades of trust and memories helping him become a more loving person.
“How are you feeling though?” I ask him, he groans and lays his head down.
“I feel like absolute death. Actually death would be more merciful than what I’m feeling now.” My mate, the dramatic. I go to move to make him some tea and a light meal for his tummy but he just holds me tighter.
“Just stay for a little longer, I finally feel better now that I’m with you.”
Who am I to resist and say no? So I settle in and relishbeing with my mate and husband. Enjoying a quiet morning after such a loud night.
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capslocked · 6 months
Text
KINKVEMBER DAY: 5
[prompt: face sitting]
male reader x ahn yujin
3.5k words
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Yujin is giving you shit when it happens.
It’s been a little over an hour since she turned to you, bored and pouty about it, and asked if you wanted to fuck again.
She gives you shit in the way only the prettiest girls can get away with. Perfect smile, like she's innocent. And all low and breathy in her throat. Hitched around the vowels of your name. Threatening enough that you thought about just immediately capitulating. It was tempting. 
"Or you could stay on the floor like a lame loser bummin’ around in your pajamas." She leans up on the arm of the sofa. "Either way."
Yujin stretches and her sweater is huge. One of those cozy campus crewnecks that everybody seems to have, oversized and inviting and right. Her shorts are ridiculously small, just enough of her stomach peeking out over her waistband for you to want to feel it, touch it, have the pleasure of sinking your tongue into the shallow groove.
She's teasing you because she never quite knows what to do with her energy. Lacks an outlet big enough, really, but is also selfishly delighted in getting any response at all, no matter how halfhearted it might be. You stare at her. You watch and don't speak when she runs her fingers up her stomach to pull her sweater up with it. You groan. She grins. She is pretty, her lips full and eyes soft. The laugh that follows her is because it's always obvious when she's won and you wish your body wasn't so prone to giving away your weaknesses.
"Hey." She blinks slowly, lifting one leg up. Her bare foot, warm, toes flexed, against your thigh, nudges against you once, and again.
"How many orgasms until I feel a little more forgiving towards my good friend who, I know, is super super sorry that he can't afford the pizza money because he chose to use his own allowance to do something as silly as pay rent, I wonder?"
"I paid half last time."
"Doesn't make sense because you ate it all.
"You said you weren't hungry." You start to object because you do have an objection. A list, actually, prepared, of instances you think you're owed. But Yujin arches, and when a separate but related complaint rises swiftly to the foreground, your throat goes dry -
"Orgasm tax."
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” she asks, and you’re struggling to answer truthfully, honestly.
She rolls over, lets you see everything she has, the tiniest shorts in the world tugged even higher, the generous curve of her ass and thighs in silhouette. You didn't ask for this but you weren’t about to die without it, you think, looking up from the floor and staring, wetting your lips, absolutely sure. She does it all on her own and it takes an absurd amount of effort to peel your hands off the ground.
"Stay where you are," she snaps, seeing it too - and in a second of deliberate slowness, hooks two fingers into her shorts, tugging them aside before looming over you. "Or you're not fucking me today. At all."
You let your head thud down against the rug beneath you. "That's not fair."
"You've gotta come up with something better than that. You could suck up, beg, maybe I'd forgive you if you just told me how much better I was than the cash I could use on literally whatever."
Your eyes cut down.
Part of you wonders if you've always been such an easy mark - whether being here has changed you, if all these months of dangling carrots in front of you are paying off or if you're just a willing accomplice to your own exploitation.
Part of you isn't stupid. Yujin's taken an almost disturbing amount of pleasure in flaunting herself since the first night you drank too much, said too much, resisted too little - you can tell the way it starts, a smile toying in the corner of her mouth, before she taps the band of her bra, waits to hear you swallow - to hear how hot you get - before she casually asks what it would take, "to convince you", to change the conversation from whether she wants something from the vending machine, or she just forgot it was laundry day, or where the hell that note from Wonyoung had gone, to what she'd like the answer to be. What would you let her do if it got you another chance to get under her shirt, see her all bared, eyes dark and hair like a veil across her collarbones, pretty nipples and swells of her breasts pushed up, until you put your mouth on her.
Yujin tilts her hips so it's easier for you to follow, her hand snaking beneath her body as she speaks. A gentle grunt gets muffled in her sweater, her toes curling into the space between your knees and it hurts, stings a little, the desire you're holding back, and then it goes right through you like fire, sharp.
(Part of you is incredibly stupid - but you think the truth is it doesn't matter.)
Yujin's kneeling over your chest, and her bottom lip, plump and lush, catches between her teeth. "Can you think of anyway to be useful?"
"A lot," you choke. It's true.
Yujin makes a noise. "Proof. Evidence. Put up."
The movement she makes - twisting of legs and stomach flexing and the fabric of her shorts down off her ankles - is one single, fluid motion and for a second you're distracted by how quickly she's gotten you there. Thighs resting over your shoulders, the only thing your lungs seem to remember how to do is want.
"Come on." She bounces her knees a bit. "Dick or mouth, get going."
You should really say something smart, show her how clever and charming you can be, how you've actually got a lot to show the hottest girl in the world - and sometimes Yujin giggles like she's shocked  about it all herself, but right now her eyebrows are raising, expectant and challenging and it makes it difficult to think when there's an open invitation inches away for you to bury yourself in. Your lips feel like sandpaper when you kiss the inside of her thigh. Her hips stutter and drop an inch as your tongue works its way out, thick and obscene and it shouldn't be so thrilling to hear her so low, so urgent when you have no say, really, in how this is going to go -
"Take care of me, yeah?" she practically whispers the words - all while your fingertips drag along her outer thighs until her spine straightens, gets her shoulders pushed back, her breathing louder, somehow, as if you couldn't feel her need without knowing already exactly what you can do for her.
And the most honest thing you could say in the moment, because Yujin has her panties stretched to the side, revealing the inviting creases where her long legs meet her hips - for god’s sake, her pussy is right fucking there, inches in front of you; glistening slightly in her own slick and looking so, so pretty - the words get kissed right into the curve of her thigh: "It's not fair."
The look she gives you makes it worth it. "Excuse me?"
"You asked, didn't you. It's not fair that your pussy's so good that I can't think about anything else."
She huffs, her thighs shaking just a little with the effort of staying put. "So, what," and your mouth closes in, kiss deep, your nose pressed in right at the peak of her folds, her entrance, and you try not to drool as you inhale and drag the flat of your tongue in, hard, where she's desperate for you, "you think this should all go in reverse or something, like I should worship your dick until you stop being a useless perv - "
But the insult dies in her throat. A moan comes out instead, harsh, deep, loud and enough that Yujin slaps her palm over her own mouth before throwing an impatient scowl down at you.
Here's what you'd tell her, if you weren't busy licking circles into the ache leaking from her core, eating her cunt like a starving man, if you had the audacity. Yujin can't control herself. Doesn't help that she's sloppy. When her orgasm hits she will get louder and she doesn't even like the things that come out. That's the thing about Yujin, really. She says all this shit, and really, in the end, she wants a good fuck so bad she can't keep her mouth shut, but the noises she makes are exactly the same as the sounds that you choke on -
Because as pretty and easy and fun to kiss as she can be, the absolute best thing about your relationship is that the more orgasms she gets the less she can breathe, much less control what the fuck she's saying to you. It's cute and hilarious and beautiful, when she forgets, when she gives everything up because in the end it's never any competition, the way she fucks, is so desperate. Her hips work themselves into your grip, over and over and over again, like they are meant for this. 
For getting off on your mouth alone.
All you know right now is that with the way you have your hands on her - one still holding her panties open and the other squeezed tight around the muscle of her outer thigh - it's like her clit's directly in line with the back of your throat. If you press your lips around her pussy and hold them firm, just like the way her knees are starting to tighten around your face, she's going to come. It will hurt her and it will leave her completely boneless, and you've fucked this much to the point where you have learned, well, she can never complain.
Not that she would. The slick dripping down your cheeks and throat and down to the front of your shirt - it's fucking everywhere - makes it obvious: any ability to talk is replaced with her just grinding her pussy against you, bucking and shouting, riding and writhing until you decide her pretty little pink slit can have another taste. 
Her only other option, really, is clenching and throbbing and cumming as hard as she can all over your waiting tongue.
"Hey. Get your fucking mouth back down," she breathes, taking her fingers out of her cunt and then promptly pushing your head back in, "and - uhnn, I - yeah, exactly. Mmmnghh - "
You smile, muffled and hot against the fabric of her thighs, her fingers twisting in the hair behind your ears and tugging firmly. "Oh."
"What did you want again?" she asks - except her body tells a different story, all flushed and keening and, fuck, absolutely soaked from your touch - she rocks against the base of your chin, slumping and dropping down and letting gravity do its work. You work your tongue over her throbbing clit, again, again, and Yujin moans loudly. So pleased.
Just this mess she's made of you. The smell that coats your nose, and chin, the way it feels when she ruts her whole body against the place where she's worked the hardest. Her breath stalls where you start to breathe in, and looking up at the cinched look in her face you press further.
It’s every little circle lick and lave and gentle nudge of the tip of your nose, where the feeling makes her cry out, where the sensation, overstimulated, is close to that perfect balance between too much and not quite enough, all while working your fingers into the swell of her ass, and finally her hips make small, greedy, selfish thrusts into your mouth.
She sobs for you. You sigh, contented, because you don't even need to ask.
"You're so fucking good," she murmurs, heel of her palm pushed into her eyes like she's struggling with a headache. "God, fuck, do that again."
It's so wet on your chin already, but you do it again, just for the way she bucks into it.
You give her the closest thing you have, your thumb riding the rim of her ass, tongue rubbing, stroking her pussy faster. Yujin's teeth work against the insides of her mouth as her hips shift forward, and she is clenching and begging for the cock you know would make her scream if you just stood her on her hands and fucked her from behind - it's such a cruel way of making her work to feel so fucking amazing - but you're here to indulge, and really, when she shivers and pleads the exact way she does, your mouth still full, how are you supposed to do anything besides fucking obey.
Yujin reaches up to grab onto the edge of the couch, anything to brace herself as her cunt sloppily gets wetter. The thickest part of your tongue is good enough for this. Everything about her clit is just this dull, swollen throb. Begging to be worked over the way you're licking at the entrance to her pussy, inside and all, kissing, sucking, kneading, pulling, - fucking her just right - until she starts fucking cursing up a storm.
"Oh god, god, oh fuck fuck, fuck," her hips shift until she's the only one riding, the only one fucking. Until you just get to lay there with your lips slack, drooling open, hands a frame for her entire body while she works your face, and nothing could be better - "yeah, oh, fuck, fuck yes - yeah - fuck, hahhh. You're going to make me fucking cum-"
And you almost say it: that's your line - it's not enough, you'll never have enough of her cunt - her clit or the slit, where she leaks, thick and sticky. Her slick tastes heavy on your tongue, and you can't swallow fast enough. Your fingers are so deep into the pliable skin of her ass - digging and needy and reaching for where she's tightest. Her hands pull sharply at your hair. You feel her, tightening her ass around your finger, cumming wet across your cheekbones and -
It goes on, her body pressing into you, until with a sudden snap of a cry, she cums.
“God, fuck-”
If Yujin doesn't have to see the look on your face after getting her off this hard, it's only because the pressure in her body has her knees across your eyes forced shut. A spasm clenches, almost rhythmic, through her thighs, and god, Yujin just cums her brains out. It's pretty hot. You make it count: pushing your fingers just as deep into her pussy, working, exploring - right as her whole body is tensing and coming apart and your other hand circles, two fingers, dipping down and through the cleft of her ass and into her tightest, hottest hole -
You know better than to rub at her entrance once the ripples and waves start - instead, it's more pressure.
Pushing up as deep as you can and your lips mouthing at her folds while her hips squirm for something harder, something stronger and with intent - like, maybe, if she thinks she is trying to push away, she will start to believe that the mess running from her hole isn't hers. It's yours. All that liquid heat pooling below her and what could ever make sense other than she needs more? She needs the way she trembles and shakes, the way her pussy weeps as you wring it for the pleasure that's well on its way -
You always feel like an idiot after, stupid with how much you enjoy this, what she gives you, but how could it be anything but fantastic, your vision dizzying when it swims from lightheadedness and the lack of oxygen to your brain. Yujin's holding you right where she needs, right between her thighs and next to perfection, just tight enough for you to groan, to make a low whine build in the back of your throat and that gets her, too.
There is the rush and a wave, the heat, of something that crests and breaks in her that has to match the absolute loss of control she seems to have all along - the only part you feel you are sure about is that Yujin always rides her cunt - all dripping lips and aching holes, swollen and flaring and practically begging to be fucked harder and more thoroughly - into every orgasm she's taken from you, until there's no where to run.
Even through your nose, and you're suffocating, her legs trembling with the rush of it all. You're gasping and shaking but she's shaking apart and you need that: to feel her melt from where her body collapses all its weight onto you and the way the aftershocks have to make it seem, at least for a moment, that she’ll never, ever recover.
"Fuck," Yujin sighs, "I fucking hate you."
(Translation: she can't fucking live without you.)
"Any time," you murmur and her entire body falls into you, straddled across your chest and slumped there, sweaty and spent. Your heart beats the moment, trying to remember when it was you could stop feeling this way about your roommate.
A part of you believes that, once upon a time, before all of this started, that your desire, your lust was rooted in seeing a friend who was beyond hot and simply unavailable.
A bigger part of you knows that asking for clarity isn't the point - because maybe, right now, in the way your hand has started massaging the soft skin under the curve of her spine, you should realize you can't live with it never happening again.
"What's my balance," you ask, rubbing your thumb into the crook behind her knee.
"Mm?"
You exhale.
"Two. I think you're good for two."
You laugh. "For real?"
She stretches.
"Or I suppose we can go for four or five, but that means you're paying for dinner, too." Yujin does this thing with her hair when she's excited. Swings it back, smiling wide.
Which is fair, you think, given the pulse between your legs throbbing and twitching as you picture it: the curve of Yujin's waist and the drop of her lower back, her bare ass. Her soaked little slit that can't help but beg to fucked and fucked and fucked, until she's trembling and quivering and leaking-
"Then I'm gonna eat," you promise her, "every last inch. Going to taste you and swallow."
Yujin shifts, sitting astride you.
You hum. "Still interested."
She simply kisses you - breathes you in - tasting herself on your lips and tongue, before leaning back with her palms flat against your chest and taking it slow as she starts to ease you into the kind of sex that doesn't leave either one of you with a throat quite so raw and dry.
So it's quiet in your apartment, just for a little while, when the afternoon starts to settle in and she rolls back onto her heels, not able to support the rest of her. You fuck her deep and it's amazing how quickly you both fall into rhythm. Yujin's clutching hard on either side of your hips. Folding herself back. Trying, by the end, to bury you where her fingers have been.
By the time she gets herself up on the couch, belly flat against the cushions and her hips arched back as she fucks herself with the length of your dick, you're just desperate. Aching in a way you know will happen any moment and even so, you can't even bring yourself to consider stopping because this is perfect - it's everything, really. To push her down, hold her still, and fuck her so thoroughly that she cries and shudders as you spill into her.
To have her.
Yujin holds a part of yourself so tender, something you have kept close for far too long, and watching her with her arm reached behind herself, clutching blindly with her fingers, as her moans go quiet with just these whimpery, little things, a thought occurs to you, of exactly how dangerous your roommate is -
Because with you fucking into her like this, this is more than sex ought to be. More than it’s ever been.
(More dangerous yet is thinking: maybe - perhaps - it is exactly what Yujin wanted, from the start.)
1K notes · View notes
cosmal · 1 year
Note
"my favorite trope is when someone believes they’re hard to love and someone who loves them like it’s breathing" this as a prompt with james im begging
overwhelmed
summary you think james is tired of you.
content james potter. x fem!reader, angst.
You wait for James outside the pub and try not to cry. You'd rather do it when he gets back. You'd rather not cry at all but it'll be easier with him. You'll only upset him and you don't want to. But the thought of not crying now seems impossible.
You hear the bell over the door ring and feel entirely relieved when you see him coming down the stairs. He finds you almost immediately and the first tear falls as he wraps you up in his arms.
You think it might be worse because you hadn't told him you were upset. That you must've said or done something inside to let him know how you'd felt.
He smooths a hand over your head and whispers something you can't discern. You let a sob free and then hear a, "It's okay, sweetheart. I got you."
The tears only worsen and you don't want them to. You feel embarrassed for making him leave and worse for crying outside into his pretty dress shirt. "I'm sorry," you manage to say. Voice sticky with hot tears.
"Don't," he says with a firmness you appreciate. He kisses and kisses into your hairline until you feel dizzy with his affection. You pull back to make sure you don't dirty his shirt with snot and catch his upset face. "Don't be sorry, it's okay."
"It's not." You steal a hand from between your bodies and wipe your nose with the back of it. "I've ruined your night and I'm really sorry. Really, James."
James had been having a lovely night. He'd been in his element, laughing about stupid things with his friends. He'd chatted everyone's ear off for almost an hour before you'd decided it was too much. You'd gotten overwhelmed like you usually do. You'd surprised yourself you'd managed to last so long.
You thought you could just tell James you were leaving, he'd understand, you hate outings like this - much the opposite to him. He insisted he was coming with you. I'm not letting you catch the tube at 9pm, Y/N.
You're sick of ruining things for him.
"Y/N, sweetheart," he steals your face, warm hands resting over your even warmer cheeks, "it's fine, I promise. You weren't having a good time, I wasn't gonna let you leave by yourself."
You blink slowly and a stray tear rolls over his knuckles. "I should've stayed. I should've just put up with it."
"No, baby. If you're not enjoying yourself you gotta let me know, yeah?' He lets your face go in favour of your shoulders. Firm hands squeezing out the knots in your tensed muscles. He's an awful way of unwinding you. "It's better if you do."
You grasp his elbows and try not to cry again. He moves you away from being so close to the road. "I always," you try to steel yourself, taking in a shuddering breath. "I always ruin things. You're always having a good time and I freak and bail."
"It's okay," he says for the tenth time. You're yet to believe it.
"No, it's gotta be tiring, baby," you sniffle, wiping your face with a cruel hand. "It's hard and I'm sorry." For every It's okay he gives you, you give him and I'm sorry.
He hugs you again and you're sure it's more for himself. You think he's trying not to cry. "It's not hard," he says. Quieter than he's been all night. "It's not hard. Doing things like this for you, aren't hard. Loving you isn't hard."
"It will be eventually," you murmur into his shirt. He squeezes you harder.
"No," he shakes his head and his chin knocks against yours. "never. I'll never get over loving you, yeah?"
You tuck your face into his neck and kiss the skin there. Gently, to show the outrageous amount of love and appreciation you have for him. You squeeze as hard as you think you should. You hear his breathing skip. "I'll never get over loving you either, Jamie."
"I hope not."
By the time you've really calmed down, you've realised where you are again. You peel your sticky face away from his neck, grateful he stood on the pavement waiting for you to relax for so long. You're sure his arms hurt from holding you.
"Can we get crepes from the place down the street?" you ask once you think you've evened your breathing.
"You read my mind." He smiles.
-
fixing readmore glitch <3
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remuslupinslittleslut · 2 months
Note
I love your writing! Like ugh every detail is so hot! You have a gift
anyways I saw the prompt list and I think 14 and 16 with mean bf Remus or the teach me dynamic would be so hot!
I get so Happy whenever someone says something nice about my writing, even when I don't reply to the ask (bc it feels like its just boosting my ego?) I GET SO HAPPY and I do a lil happy dance THANK YOU to everyone who reads and even more to everyone who takes the time to let me know you enjoy it <3 love u guys and I LOVE THIS
YEs, mean bf!Remus and teach us!dynamics and OH Remus Lupin owns me!!
14: “I don’t need a reason. I can do whatever I want to you.” Mean bf!Remus x Reader
Masterlist.
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This was not what you’d expected when you started tugging on the arm of Remus’ sweater, telling him you needed him. You figured he’d pretend to be annoyed for a bit, tell you sorry love, gotta work a bit more, but then inevitably give in.
That wasn’t… quite the reaction you received. He had told you he needed to work more, asking you to behave, but you pressed further, even took his hand and shoved it between your thighs to make him feel how wet you were for him. It had been the wrong move, which you noticed instantly as his face changed when he turned to look at you.
Grabbing a hold of your chin, fingers squeezing hard, forcing your lips into a pout, he said, “Is my little girl acting like a slut? A little cockwhore? I thought you were my good girl, what happened to her? Huh?”
His words hurt, you were his good girl, but you also needed attention, so you told him as much.
“‘m sorry daddy, just wanted you.”
He only huffed in reply, as he got up from his chair, abandoning his work. Normally this would be a win for you – but judging by the mood he was in and the harsh movements of his body, you figured a punishment was to come.
He walked you to the bed, hand on your lower back, before he pushed you onto the furniture, hands holding onto you harshly. Taking your hands in his, he straddled your waist and reached for the rope he only used when punishing you.
“Hands up,” he said, with little energy left in his voice.
You did as told, but you couldn’t help the little pout setting on your face. The rope was hard and Remus wasn’t being very soft in his usage of it, making sure you couldn’t get out of the ties. When your arms were perfectly secured, he did the same to your feet, making sure you couldn’t move much at all.
“Now, daddy has work to do, but if I understood correctly, you need someone to touch your little cunny?” He asked, faux concern all over his face.
You nodded, happy that he was so understanding.
“Hm, yes, I guess this will work then,” he said, reaching for your strongest wand vibrator, turning it to the max setting and placing it between your legs. “There you go, love, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? Now daddy can go back to his work.”
You whined, this was unfair. He was going to leave you all alone on your bed, not caring about how overstimulated your little pussy would get.
“Daddy, no, you can’t do this to me… please, please stay, ‘s so unfair, I didn’t even do anything, please daddy...” Your voice was desperate.
Remus stopped, just as he was about to walk out the door, turned his body toward you and spoke.
“I don’t need a reason. I can do whatever I want to you.”
Then, he turned, left the room and closed the door.
The first few minutes you were loud, crying out for him, begging him to come back. Then your first orgasm came, and you were loud again, but in a different way. The head of the vibrator sent shocks up and down your body, made your empty hole squeeze around nothing, you missed Remus’ cock so badly. Your second orgasm came shortly after, it wasn’t quite as intense, but your body shook through the waves.
Your energy wasn’t as high for your third and fourth orgasms, your sounds were lower, though your body still shook and spasmed. Sweat was running down your body and you felt the large pool of your own cum beneath your ass and back.
After you came the fifth time, you started losing your hold on reality. All you knew was that you missed your daddy, and that you wanted the relentless, now hurting, vibrations to end – or at least calm down. They didn’t. Tears were running down your cheeks, or maybe spit, likely both.
You had lost both count and touch with reality when the bedroom door was finally opened again.
“Da-addy, ple-ease, he-elp, me-ee,” your voice was ruined, shaky from crying and weak from screaming.
Remus walked to the bed and lowered the vibrator, but he didn’t turn it off completely.
“Daddy isn’t quite done with work yet, and you’re disturbing him with your loud noises,” he chided, making you cry out louder than ever before.
“No, daddy, you can’t leave me, please daddy, ‘m so sorry, please don’t leave…” you were babbling, arching your back this way and that – trying anything to make him stay.
Reaching to wipe the tears from your face, he smiled, meanly.
“Beg for it like the slut you are.”In the end, he did let you out of your ties and agreed to take the vibrator away, but only after he’d come down your throat, pulling yet another orgasm from you.
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oneforthemunny · 11 months
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can't hurry love |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|
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prompt: a little blurb about older!dilf!eddie and reader adjusting to life as parents, which includes learning to have quickies where they can.
contains: domestic fluff. age gap relationship. reader is thirty-three, eddie is forty-nine. dad!eddie x mom!reader. fluff and smut. minors DNI 18+. quickie p in v sex.
Eddie was sure if he heard 'Let It Go' one more time he was going to scream, rip his hair out and shove it into his ears so he didn't have to hear the song ever again. He thought Strawberry Shortcake was bad, but it was nothing compared to this- a new level of hell that Delilah insisted on playing on a loop over and over and over. He figured it was probably because of her new Elsa dress, a costume blue replica of the character's that came with all the accessories- including a very tangled and tattered wig that you were "fixing". He had Wayne to thank for that, the old man could never say no to either of his grand babies.
Eddie was going to make sure he put the idea in Lilah's head to make Poppa watch the sing-along version the next time he dropped her off, give him a taste of his own medicine; but he knew deep down Wayne wouldn't mind.
"Delilah," You called carefully, padding into the living room with a basket full of her clothes on your hip, ready to be washed from the week before. "I think it's time for us to go lay down."
Eddie cringed, the soft whimper of shock, rounding eyes and a pout that made his heart lurch in his chest, followed by the expectant whine, loud and shrill. "Noooo..." Delilah stomped her foot. "No, Mama, we're not done with the movie!"
You looked at Eddie, lips pursed. You knew he'd cave if she begged too much, and you wanted to stop it before it started. "Delilah," You warned lifting a brow. "You gotta have a nap, baby. You'll be so mean and cranky if you don't."
"Daddy, tell her no." Delilah whined, climbing into Eddie's lap, curling into his chest. Your lips twitched, biting back a smile. You wanted to be irritated, but you couldn't. Three years old and already knew exactly how to play Eddie so he'd bend to her every whim. You wished you were surprised, but between you and Brielle, she was bound to learn the ways of the women around her.
Eddie's eyes softened, cradling her head into his chest, stroking her soft curls. He looked up at you pleadingly. "Just a few more minutes," He said, face melting. He looked down, Delilah's tiny fist rubbing her eyes as she fought back a yawn, easing into his chest and relaxing under his touch.
You tsked, lifting a brow at him. "Eddie, we talked about this." You warned quietly. You had been trying for weeks to get Delilah to go to sleep on her own, starting to ween her out of long snuggles and holding her until she fell asleep. She would start school in only a few years, and didn't need to be coddled like that and make it worse on herself.
Eddie had been less than thrilled. He loved nothing more than cuddling with his baby before she went to bed, reading her a story, his readers perched on his nose doing animated voices that riled her up more than soothed her. Often, especially if he was working at the shop late, it was the only time he got with her. He was so pouty when you talked to him about it the first time, petulant with huffy grumbles and protest, but he knew you were right.
"Just give us a few minutes, please?" Eddie's face contorted into a small smile. "The troll songs about to come on, then we'll go nap after that. Right, Pickles?"
Delilah giggled, half her face still resting on her dad's chest, her eyes still trained on the movie. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Fine, I'll go start this load and then you're going to take a nap, missy." You pointed at Delilah, who huffed and whined. Eddie's gruff, soothing voice peppering words and kisses into her hairline.
You dumped the clothes in, bending over to see a pair of your panties had dropped between the washer and dryer. You shimmied your hand down to snatch the clothing piece, blushing and rolling your lip between your teeth when you held it in front of you. It was a lacy black pair, part of a set you bought for Eddie's birthday, that you must've dropped, seeing as it was still covered in your release and his, dried and crusted on the black fabric.
Your legs squeezed together at the memory. You'd taken Eddie to the bar, meeting all his friends for his birthday, even bringing a cake to share at the small booth you rented out, everyone drunkenly serenading the birthday boy. The real surprise was when you got home. Madeline had offered to watch Delilah for the night, ecstatic to see her niece and spend time with her, so you had the house to just the two of you. As soon as you'd shown Eddie the lingerie set, he'd bent you over the arm of the couch, pounding into you relentlessly, not even bothering to take the panties off.
That had been over two weeks ago.
The shift from fucking each other anytime you wanted to with no worries, to having to sneak and worry about being interrupted by the baby monitor or tiny feet padding to your room was a hard adjustment for both of you. Even for Eddie, who had done it once before, it was still hard.
You poured the detergent in, tossing your panties in the wash, before starting the machine. You placed the basket on top, lips twisting in thought before walking back into the living room.
Delilah was heavy lidded, curled into Eddie's chest nearly half asleep when you stepped in front of the TV, hands on your hips. "Nap time, sweet girl." You cooed, turning off the television.
Delilah cried, angry and irritated, burying her face in Eddie's chest. "No, Mama, no!" She wailed, clinging to Eddie tightly. "Tell her no, Daddy!"
"I don't think that will matter, baby cakes." Eddie snorted lightly, running a hand down her back. "You know Mama's the boss lady around here. You better listen to her."
You bit back a grin, shaking your head at him. "Lilah, let's go. C'mon, Mama will go tuck you in."
Delilah cried, fat, crocodile tears streamed down her little red face. You knew it was probably from exhaustion more than anything else. She always got so cranky after lunch. "I not tired!" Delilah lisped, her 'r' sounding more like a 'w', and it made Eddie's heart swell, holding her closer to his chest, pressing his cheek against her head sweetly.
"Here, baby, I'll come lay with you ok? Just until you go to sleep, and then when you wake up we can play with your toys some more, ok?" Eddie cooed sweetly, avoiding your hard gaze.
"No," You said, shaking your head. "I'll go put her down, and I need your help in the bedroom, please." You eyed him carefully.
Eddie's brows knitted in confusion, twisting with a questioning look. You blinked, eyes flickering to your room down the hall. "Just go wait for me, please." You grit though your teeth. "I've got a really bad itch and I need you to scratch it, please."
Eddie's eyes flashed in confusion before widening, bulging in realization. The euphemism wasn't great by a long shot, you were trying to talk in code in front of your toddler, who was more interested in crying and screaming than whatever you two were discussing. Eddie blushed, mouth running dry. He pressed a quick kiss to Delilah's cheek, muttering a small promise that soothed her a bit before her nap, then handing her off to you.
You looked at him over the top of Delilah's curls, nodding down the hall before going into her room.
Delilah went down fairly easy, too exhausted from the constant running and excitement of the day to whine and protest too long. You'd tucked her in before sitting outside her door to make sure she stayed in her bed, listening until her little cries turned into sniffles then silence, the noise machine drowning out her little snores. You peeked in the room, illuminated by the soft glow of the night light and the sun peeking through the drawn curtains, before tip toeing down the hall to yours and Eddie's room.
Eddie perked up when you walked in, eyes lighting up when you shut the door behind you. "Did you get her down?" Eddie asked eagerly, standing up.
You nodded, shimmying out of your sweatpants and pulling your shirt over your head. "Yes," You muttered, feeling his eyes gawk at your bare body. You didn't wait for whatever lewd and suggestive comment was on his tongue, pressing yourself against him, your lips catching his, tugging him in deeper and deeper into you.
Eddie's hands found the small of your back, calloused skin skating down towards your ass, cupping and squeezing the fat of it until you moaned into his mouth. He dropped lower, hands tucking between your legs, swiping through your wet folds. You could feel him smirk into your mouth.
"Dirty girl," He tsked, pulling his shining fingers out with a dimpled grin. "What's gotten into you, huh?"
You rolled your eyes, huffing and reaching for the band of his sweatpants. You could see his growing erection already tenting the soft fabric, rolling your hand over his cock, squeezing it lightly before shoving his pants roughly to the ground.
"Shut up." You muttered with an eye roll, feeling his arrogant grin on you, mouth watering at the sight of his cock, thick and veiny, practically touching your nose. You wanted to bury your face in his groin, smother his dick with wet kisses, that's how much you missed it.
You pumped him a few times, silken skin soft in your hands. Eddie groaned, tipping his head back and you huffed. "Be quiet, you'll wake her up." You pouted, swiping your tongue over his tip.
"Then don't do that-fuck." Eddie groaned, hands finding your hair, gripping it lightly. You swallowed him easily down your throat, hands gripping his hair thighs to steady yourself, bobbing up and down on his shaft. "Shit, bunny, that-that's so good, but I need to be inside you."
You pulled off him with a small pop, eyes lifting to his in amusement. You wiped the back of your mouth with your wrist, his hands guiding you to stand up. "Never thought I'd here you say that." You smirked.
Eddie snorted with an eye roll. He smacked your ass playfully, hard enough to have you yelp and squeal, thighs rubbing together for friction. "Just get on the bed." He muttered. "Let me scratch that itch." He grinned.
You blushed, turning and climbing onto the bed, crawling into a table top position. "What? I didn't know what to say." You laughed with a small shrug, bending your front half to sink onto the mattress.
Craning your head to look over your shoulder, Eddie smirked, eyes rolling over your body, your presented ass and glistening pussy, ready and needy for him. You wiggled your hips, ass jiggling in front of him.
"C'mon, hurry up, before she wakes up and interrupts us, again." You groaned, watching him pump his length before situating himself behind you. "Gotta be quick."
Eddie exhaled slowly out his nose, smirking and rolling his tongue over his bottom lip. "I gotcha, bunny, I know." He grinned. "I'll get ya there, just slow down." He swiped his fingered over your folds, pushing his pointer finger into your sopping hole. You shoved your face into the mattress, muffling your loud, desperate moan that tore from your chest.
Eddie moved, positioning himself behind you. "Ready?" He asked, and you nodded. Eddie pushed in slowly, cock splitting you open, the burn from the stretch of his length against your walls made you whine, simmering out with the familiar mind numbing pleasure that always left you complacent and dizzy.
Eddie groaned lowly when he bottomed out, hunching over so his bare chest was pressed to your back. "Holy fucking shit, bunny." He ground his hips against the meat of your ass. "Been too fuckin' long, baby. Way too fuckin' long."
You moaned when he pulled out, hips snapping against yours, a rhythm building and pleasure pooling deep in your belly. You knew you'd be cumming in no time, the overwhelming pleasure mixed with the fact that you hadn't had him in so long, your legs were already beginning to shake, abdomen clenching and fists grappling at the sheets.
Eddie huffed, hot breath on your bare shoulder blades, pressing sloppy, wet, open mouthed kisses to your hot skin, nuzzling the scruff of his beard into you. "God, fuck, 'm not gonna last long." He warned, hand snaking between you, fingers expertly finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you crying out.
"Should be a fuckin' crime to not fuck you for as long as I did, shit." Eddie hissed. "A pussy this sweet? And I've gone too long without it, haven't I?" Eddie cooed into your ear, a little taunting and mean. Your legs clenched around his hand. "You've just been a little pent up, haven't you, bunny? So needy for me, and I didn't even know, huh?"
"Fuck," You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. His hand on your clit pressed down harder, cock jabbing your g-spot so hard you were sure you'd be spilling over him in no time. "Too long, 's too long." You babbled.
Eddie felt his stomach clench, cock twitching deep inside your velvety walls. His hands gripped harder on your hips, thrusting deeper and harder, sloppy and sharp thrusts that took your breath away. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" Eddie's fingers worked faster on your clit, jaw clenching when he rocked harder into you, bed squeaking, mattress springs creaking with every harsh snap of his hips.
You whimpered, the pleasure building so closely you could feel yourself tipping closer and closer towards the edge of ecstasy. Eddie could feel you clenching, his hand still working on your puffy, sensitive clit, thrusting harder, while his other cracked down on the side of your ass, a resounding smack that left you crying out- a bit too loudly- a final thrust sending you reeling falling into the mattress with a fucked out cry.
"Thank fuck-ugh!" Eddie groaned, his own cock spilling deep inside you. He moved slow, pushing farther and farther into you until you'd collected every drop of him. His head fell forward, curly tendrils tickling your back, his hot breath ghosting over your skin.
You could feel him, warm inside of you, filled with every drop of his rather large load. Eddie rested his cheek, stubble skin pressed to the skin of your back, eyes closed and breathing in your scent, calming and grounding while he caught his breath.
You grinned, eyes fluttering at the feeling of him, his weight on top of you, still buried deep inside of you. The house filled with an odd moment of silence, the ceiling fan above you spinning was the only sound other than the labored breaths of you and Eddie. If you listened closely, you could hear the very faint sound of Delilah's sound machine, muffled to a small buzz down the hall.
Eddie moved his hand, tucking it so it cupped your cheek sweetly, tilting to bring you closer to him. He didn't say anything, slotting his lips over yours in a tender, sweet kiss, full of love and passion, like after a date night and a few glasses of wine. You smiled, his forehead against yours as you moved closer to him, content and basking in his embrace. He left you warm from the inside out, bubbly and happy, full of joy that he was yours; that this was your life together, a life you created that was far sweeter than anything you could've ever imagined- even if it started out a little unconventional.
The chirping sound of the washer singing and ringing rang through the house, signaling the the wash cycle was done. You sighed slowly, eyes meeting Eddie's through a glassy gaze. "I think I better go switch them over." You muttered, your lips brushing his, nose touching. "And you better go smoke now if you want to, before she wakes up."
Eddie sighed heavily, lips brushing against yours in a gentle peck, before he pushed himself up, groaning and the creaks and clicks of his joints and bones. "Agh," He hissed, pulling out of you slowly, his release falling in a puddle underneath you.
"Ed," You huffed, lifting your ass up farther to try and keep anymore from spilling. "Now I have to wash that too."
Eddie smirked, grabbing a wash cloth out of the bathroom and wetting it before coming back. "Sorry, baby." He muttered, wiping you slowly. You shifted, rolling over onto your back while he finished cleaning you, sucking in a breath at the sensitivity between your legs.
Eddie settled himself back between your legs, rubbing against your ass suggestively. "Think she'd stay down for another round?" He asked, scanning your naked chest.
You scoffed, pushing him back lightly by his sternum. "Please, we better not test our luck." You rolled your eyes, sitting up, legs hanging over the side of the bed.
You stood, bending down to shimmy back on your discarded sweatpants. You could feel Eddie's blistering gaze on your ass. "Besides," You smirked, biting back a smirk. "You couldn't get it up for a second round, geezer." You teased.
Eddie's jaw ticked, scoffing challengingly, arms crossing over his inked chest. You laughed, putting on your shirt with a small blush. "Alright," Eddie's tongue rolled on the inside of his cheek, eyes narrowing lightly at you. "I'll remember that, baby."
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, lifting on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "'M just kidding." You giggled, batting your eyes lovingly at him.
Eddie's hands snaked down, cracking against your sweatpants clad ass before gripping your waist tightly. "You wait until tonight, bunny. We'll see how many rounds I can go." He growled threateningly, but his eyes twinkled playfully, lustfully and alluring.
You broke apart, gathering the blanket from the bed in your arms while Eddie got dressed. He caught your waist when you passed him, arms full of the blanket, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, your head tipping back and reeling under his touch.
"Love you," Eddie muttered, kissing the tip of your nose. He fumbled in his top drawer for a cigarette and his lighter, winking at you when you dreamily repeated the phrase back to him, feeling airy and gooey, like a school girl with a second period crush. He still made you feel so important, so loved and adored.
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lilgoblinbitch · 1 month
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The Archer Finds a Soulmate 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
girl dad!daryl dixon x fem!reader
a/n: this idea was offered by @yummymeee !! was trying to find fluffy daryl prompts and this one stuck with me.
summary: Daryl is a father of a young girl and has always had trouble trusting new people. When he meets you, everything changes.
warnings: none really, typical twd stuff, just some angst and fluff at the end :)
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Daryl Dixon was left raising a child in the apocalypse. He didn't expect to find himself taking care of a baby all by himself after the mother of his child ended up hiding it from him, and on her death bed begging Daryl to keep the baby safe. Of course, Daryl would love his baby girl till the day he died. She was the light of his life. She was the only thing left in this cruel world that reminded him of what made life worth living.
Five years after the start of the apocalypse, Daryl was extremely lucky to have been part of a large community that actually showed not only him, but his little girl, charity and companionship. All he wished for was a safe home and chance for his daughter to grow up happy. Because he never got to have a happy childhood himself, it almost felt imperative for him to manifest his own happiness and prosperity by giving his own kid that opportunity.
"Jasmine! Get outta that pile'a crap and c'mere!"
The five-year-old girl lay on her back in mound of dirt and leaves, swishing her arms and legs back and forth. "Daddy, look! I'm making a dirt angel!"
Daryl scoffed as he peered over at his daughter, who was collecting bits of leaves and sticks and dirt in her hair and probably covering every inch of the fabric of her outfit. An outfit that Carol had recently washed, because it originally got stained with orange juice and pudding. Unfortunately little predicaments like that were bound to happen to any little kid. It didn't bother Daryl, he just didn't want to put more of a burden on Carol.
Daryl stood up from the log he was sitting on, setting the dead rabbit he was working on skinning to the side. "Jas! Ya want food or not?" He called out, waving the playful child over to him. She perked her head up at him, her dark curly hair now decorated with bits of colorful leaves and sticks, almost making her hair look like a Christmas tree in some way. The child obeyed and jumped up from the ground, shaking off the dirt that layered her clothing. And of course, they needed to be washed again.
Joining her father by the fire, Jasmine plopped down on the log across from him and simpered at him. He smiled back after examining her youthful grin and spotting the smeared dirt on her face. "Ya got dirt on yer face, silly girl. Here, wipe yer hands and face with this." He handed her a towel, one that was adorned with pink and purple flowers. She loved that little beach towel. She snatched it out of her father's hands and hastily rubbed it all over her face and hands, then tossing it on the ground. Daryl sighed in distress.
"How many more things of yers we gotta ask Carol to wash?"
"We're outside, daddy. There is dirt, and you say dirt makes us dirty. So it's got to make everything else dirty, right?" Her enthusiasm never failed to make him grin and forget what he was even upset at her about.
"A'ight, watch me, ready?" Daryl grabbed the dead rabbit and continued skinning it, making sure Jasmine was watching him. Her face contorted in disgust.
"I don't wanna do that, daddy! It's gross and it hurts the rabbit."
He ignored her complaining and continued skinning it. "It's dead already. Didn't feel any pain, I promise," he reassured the child. "I just needed to show ya how yer dad makes yer all-time favorite food: rabbit stew."
The little girl shook her head. "No, my favorite food is Carol's cookies, and the Kingdom's cobbler!"
Daryl rolled his eyes, finishing up skinning the rabbit and then sticking it on a stick and placing it over the fire. Throughout their meal, Daryl told her about the time he first ever had to eat rabbit, and how he was around her age. His daughter was always absolutely thrilled to hear stories, especially from her father. She admired him more than he realized. And she looked forward to every Thursday afternoon, because that's when Daryl took her out for walks in the woods, pointing out various plants and showing her how to differentiate between animal tracks and walker tracks. Of course, she was too young to fully understand everything he taught her, but it made him more comfortable knowing that she was learning early on.
Some nights Daryl lay awake, tossing and turning only to say "fuck it" and go out in the woods where he could ease his mind, while his daughter was already fast asleep in the room across the hall. He loved being alone in the woods; just him and no one else to disturb him for a few hours.
However, one night he ended up acquiring company from an unexpected individual: you. Daryl didn't know very much about you, besides the fact that you joined Alexandria not too long after he and his group did. You were quiet and reserved, always keeping to yourself and never being found in large crowds because you were always more content when alone. Daryl often found himself following you into the woods to see what you even did out there, but you were just too quick to spy on. And truthfully, you were afraid of Daryl. You had seen how similar he was to you in some ways; his love for nature and serenity and the comfort of being isolated from the loudness of the community you lived in. You observed him going into the woods and not coming back out for hours, just as you did. He ended up becoming a valued member of Alexandria as he helped Aaron recruit new members to the community. He was becoming more outspoken than you, and that seemed to make you nervous.
Tonight, curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and see what it was that Daryl the archer father did late at night in the woods, all alone.
Daryl did not anticipate anyone to be as good of a tracker as he was, especially in the dark of night. But being the daughter of a hunter father ended up advantaging you with that skill. So when he heard footsteps and prepared to send an arrow flying and landing between the eyes of a walker, but ended up being face to face with you, he was surprised to say the least.
"Hey, um, Daryl right?" Your flashlight beamed onto his face, and he squinted. "Sorry," you turned it off and shoved it in your pocket, "I just, um...I always see you out here, and I'm always out here, so..."
"So what?" Daryl wasn't in the mood for visitors, especially not annoyingly beautiful women such as yourself. You made him nervous.
Daryl kicked the dirt around with his feet, not looking up at you as you continued to speak to him. "Look, I'm not really a people person, and you probably want nothing to do with me because I never talked to you before...but I–" you stopped to look down at the dirt and shuffle your feet in it as well, involuntarily mimicking Daryl. "I dunno, I just need a friend, I think."
You could feel Daryl's eyes on you now, the glow of the small fire illuminating his auburn hair and the specks of hair on his beard. You swallowed hard, becoming a nervous wreck under his hard gaze. "Why me?" Was all he managed to say after studying your face. You finally made eye contact with him after mustering up the courage to do so. He had pretty eyes.
"Because I think we're alike in a lot of ways." You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and leaned against the thick tree beside you. "And honestly, you're one of the only people I know of that has better tracking skills than me," you added, voice soft and unsure. Unsure of what the mysterious man in front of you was thinking. It seemed like he had so much going on in his head all the time, and that's because he did. His thoughts raced, thoughts about you and how pretty you looked under the sparkling fire and why the hell you were talking to a loser single dad like him.
But you didn't see him like that. You were intimidated by him – always have been, except this time he intimidated you in a way you never expected. He made you want to open up to him, because you could tell now that he was just like you. You went your whole life never wanting to be seen by anyone, but Daryl changed that.
Daryl's lack of words left you in your thoughts once again. What if that was his sign for you to scram? What if he hated you? What if he thought you were a fucking creep for sneaking up on him in the middle of the night in the woods? You couldn't handle the fear of rejection so you took matters into your own hands.
Sighing in defeat, you turned on your heal and started for the other direction back to Alexandria, until you were abruptly stopped in your tracks.
"Wait."
Daryl did not wish for you to leave. He believed you. You were like him. "Ya wanna come hunting?"
Your eyes lit up in elation, and you smiled at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."
After a only a few weeks, you and Daryl became friends. He properly introduced you to his daughter Jasmine, who when meeting you for the first time told you, "You're pretty!" It melted your heart. Yours and Daryl's friendship grew drastically from then on. You respected him a lot, as he did you. The two of you were able to teach each other things about nature and hunting that the other had no clue about; you taught Daryl which herbs were best for different things, and he taught you how to shoot with a crossbow. Of course, your bow and arrow and your dagger were just enough for you already, but it pleased you to know that Daryl actually wanted to teach you.
Soon enough it was evident that you and Daryl were growing a deeper connection than the two of you originally anticipated. But somehow you weren't scared of it. You felt content around him, and it was clear that he felt that way about you, too.
"Jasmine!" Daryl called out, frantically searching the woods for his pesky little daughter. The sun was setting over the tree line ahead of him, clouds painted orange and pink. It was going to be dark soon, and he had no idea where his daughter had run off to.
Daryl found his feet moving on their own, eyes shifting around his surroundings while he attempted to track the footsteps of his daughter. "Jas! C'mon let's go!" Suddenly the sound of a twig snapping filled the air. His heartbeat quickened, and his paternal instincts kicked in. He raced toward the sound, crossbow at the ready.
He was just about ready to shoot whatever was hiding behind the tree but when he saw you walking with Jasmine he stopped in his tracks, lowering his weapon. You and Jasmine both glanced up at him simultaneously, and the little girl ran up to her father and hugged him. A sigh of relief overcame him as he bent down to hug her back. You beamed down at the two of them, admiring how touching the sight was.
"Where were ya?" Daryl stood back up, moving his focus between both you and his daughter. You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm, but the fact that his daughter was running off in the woods without him made him feel uneasy and on edge.
"Don't worry, I found her by a stream back there. She told me she wanted to learn how to catch frogs," you reassured him. He grinned and looked down at the girl, who was carrying a red bucket full of croaking amphibians.
"Look how many I caught, daddy!" She lifted the bucket up to Daryl and he peered into it. "Well someone's a professional frog catcher now, ey?" He teased.
The three of you reached the gates and Jasmine hurriedly ran down the street to the other kids outside. You smiled and turned to Daryl, who was already staring at you. You blushed and looked down at your feet.
"Sorry, I should have told you she was with me. She just seemed so excited and I couldn't say no, so–"
"Nah. Don't need to apologize," he interrupted, reaching his hand up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "I, uh, thank you, fer watchin' her."
A gentle breeze drifted through your hair and you brushed stray strands out of your face, all the while Daryl shifted his weight and gathered the pith to express his feelings at that moment. He needed to get it off his chest.
Your doe eyes only impelled him further.
"Uh..." his anxious eyes finally met your passionate ones. "I think Jas might enjoy having ya over fer dinner t'night."
This time you tittered, nodding your head enthusiastically. "If this is your way of wanting more of my company, just say it, Daryl." Your face muscles seriously ached from smiling so hard. "I... I like you. And I would love to come over, honestly, any time."
Daryl's face flushed a shade of pink you'd never seen on him before. It made you giddy. "I like ya too."
That moment felt so cliche – it felt like you and Daryl were part of a silly teenage romcom film. But you two earned that cliche moment. You were surprisingly capable of harvesting a healthy connection with someone who really meant a lot to you.
The magnetic pull between the two of you grew stronger and stronger, reeling your body closer to his. Your hand instinctively brushed against his, making Daryl's insides mushy.
A smirk ran across yours lips and you grabbed Daryl's hand firmly. "C'mon, let's go make some food for tonight."
That evening you cooked venison stew for Daryl and his daughter, by gratitude of the huge buck Daryl scored earlier that morning. Secretly you loved to cook, but you'd only ever cook for someone who was special to you; back in the day you'd always cook for your father after he'd go out hunting and bring back game that gave you an opportunity to create a mouth-watering recipe. Today, that special someone was Daryl. You truly believed he deserved a decent meal from you after everything he'd done for you. He won your trust and respect – even more so your love.
"Thank you."
Daryl was sprawled out on the couch, staring up at you as you had finished cleaning up the dishes. He had already tucked Jasmine into bed up stairs, afterward coming back down to gawk at you.
You wiped your hands on a towel and set it on the counter, turning your attention the the comfortable man on the couch. "No need to thank me. I wanted to cook for you." You joined him on the couch, drowning in the soft cushion and taking in the homey vibe of his living room.
He sat up, turning his body toward you. That expression was painted on his face again – the one that told you he was doubting himself, or that he was trying really hard to articulate his emotions. You took his hands in yours, a decision that caught Daryl by surprise. "You don't need to doubt yourself anymore. I know what you're feeling, trust me."
Your reassurance kindled the spark of courage Daryl so desperately needed. It was as if you were his god, his creator – the one to send him the message from the sky to tell him it was his time to listen to his heart. And so he did.
The archer's rough, calloused fingers traced shapes over the dry skin of your hands. Your gaze melted him like plastic by the fire, and the words your spoke to him spilled from your lips like a prayer.
"Kiss me, Daryl."
Carefully Daryl parted his lips while searching your face for any uncertainties; there were none. And so he kissed you. He kissed you like you were a porcelain doll, suppressing his strength as to not break you. He wanted this kiss to last forever, and so did you.
Daryl trusted his gut that you were the one for him, and boy was that the best decision he ever made right there and then.
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scariusaquarius · 4 months
Note
Hello, Lyn! Would you perhaps be willing to write something for number 71. “Kiss me, quick!” with Hawks? 👀 (I was Narnvaeron perviously, I don't know if I mentioned changing the username and avatar lol).
Of course I remember you!! I hope you're doing well, sweety! Happy New Years Day!!
Send me a Pairing and Prompt! // ACCEPTING
Keigo 'Hawks' Takami x Reader
71. "Kiss me, quick!"
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Undercover missions could go one of two ways: A) No problems encountered, and the mission goes incredibly well or B) every single thing that could go wrong does.
Unfortunately for you and Hawks, the mission you both were on decided to go with option B.
Currently, you two were in the middle of a battleground; trying to weave your way in and out of the different alleyways and buildings in hopes to losing some of the villains that had caught wind of who you two were, and though Hawks could have flown the both of you out of there, he had unfortunately encountered Dabi, of whom had burned a ton of his feathers off.
So, the sky-high hero was reduced to the ground and the man was frantic. He held your hand tightly as you led him, doing your best to find a busy part of the town in hopes of losing the villains.
Coming upon a packed flea market, you tugged Hawks' hand and hissed as he stumbled slightly.
"Come on, I got an idea!"
"Really? I thought the idea was to run like hell."
He was panting slightly, sweat running down his temple and neck, and you said in earnest.
"Well, we can't hope to outrun them like this. You're wounded, I'm winded, and we need to find cover and fast. Here, take this!"
You indiscreetly stole a couple of hats from one of the clothes vendows and slipped it onto his head, making the man's golden eyes widen in awe.
"Oo, disguises? Good thinking, dove! I've always liked playing dress-up."
There was a tone to his voice that revealed his lack of enjoyment, but you paid him bo mind as you yanked some shawls from another vendor without them looking and quickly scuttled away to wrap the shawls around yourselves.
Pulling out your sunglasses, you could have laughed at the way Hawks' face scrunched and flinched as you practically smacked them onto his face.
Turning around, you scanned the crowd before cursing when you noticed the villains coming your way. Luckily, they hadn't spotted you two yet, but they would the closer they got.
So, you turned to Hawks and grabbed him by his shirt, making his eyebrows shoot up as you hissed.
"Kiss me, quick!"
You didn't give him a chance to initiate, slamming your lips against his, and Hawks swore he was going to combust from blushing so hard. His hands were hovering over your hips in shock before the man melted, pulling you closer and pressing into you.
Your hands splayed over his chest before wrapping around his neck, and the man hummed softly as your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
It was bliss for him, the feeling of your soft lips against his making his mind reel, and Hawks could help but to smooth his tongue over your bottom lip; silently begging for entrance.
You allowed it, your tongues intertwining, and you could hear the scoffs of disgust as the villains passed you both by.
With a nibble to your bottom lip, Hawks pulled away before smirking and raising his sunglasses so his golden eyes could look down at you, his cheeks flaming red.
"Gotta say, I wasn't expecting that, but I wouldn't mind a couple more of those."
You were embarrassed, muttering.
"I saw it off of a movie and thought it would work."
"Oh, yeah? You sure you didn't just want to get some lovin', sugar?"
He wriggled his eyebrows, and you rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand and quickly guiding him to safety.
"You're insufferable."
"Give me another kiss or two, and I might stop~"
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adamsmasher · 4 months
Text
Okay it's after 1am and I've had a lot of wine so obviously it's time for a late night wall-of-text post, but this time it's less likely to piss off your weird uncle or whatever because once again, I gotta talk about the best $4.99 a month I've ever spent.
Please, if you haven't yet, I'm begging you to look into all of the incredible content available on the Dropout.tv streaming service (formerly known as College Humor) . Not only did Whose Line Is It Anyway's Wayne Brady say that the Dropout crew are the only ones doing improv comedy on the same level as Whose Line, but they were also one of the only studios/streaming services allowed to work during the writers' strike because their contracts went above and beyond industry standards. (And, from my own observations, Dropout LOVES hiring queer, trans/nonbinary, and BIPOC performers + crew. Obviously I don't know much about the industry, but they seem like one of the most inclusive companies in Hollywood.)
"Alex, thanks for the recommendation! What shows do they have that you think I'll like?" Oh, you're asking me to gush about my favorite tv shows? Don't mind if I do!!!
Are you D&D curious, but took one look at actual play shows like Critical Role and thought "6 hours an episode? and there's like 750 episodes or whatever? oh baby not my adhd ass..." Don't worry, me too (sorry CR I love you I promise). But Dropout has a show called "Dimension 20" where comedians play Dungeons and Dragons with emotional, immersive storytelling, gut-busting laughs, and spectacular set design that makes you forget it's a fully improvised series controlled by the roll of the dice. They even did a miniseries perfect for D&D beginners called "Dungeons and Drag Queens" where absolute novices and Drag Race royalty Jujubee, Monet X Change, Alaska Thunderfuck, and Bob the Drag Queen embark on an adventure full of mystery, intrigue, and stupidity. I mean, Alaska plays a muscle-bound, axe-wielding, caveman-grunting Orc named Princess, what more could you want? Plus, the primary game master Brennan Lee Mulligan is so easy on the eyes. Oh, you're not into dorky ginger dudes? How about Aabria Iyengar, a 6 foot tall goddess who's equally as nerdy as Brennan but loves basketball. that's right, if nothing else, there's eye candy for every person in every season.
"Oh, why aren't there any good game shows on TV?" you wonder, wishing that the Game Show Network could come up with something that isn't a lame remake of a free-to-play phone game. Well how about Game Changer, "the only game show where the game changes every show (except for [...] Game of Games, Taskmaster, and a few others that have come to light AFTER [Game Changer first aired]. That's right, [the] players have no idea what game it is they're about to play. The only way to learn is by playing, the only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning." And yes, I did sit there and watch the beginning of an episode to make sure I was accurately quoting Game Changer host (and Dropout CEO) Sam Reich's description of his flaghship game show that has THREE separate spin-offs. (for context, he only mentions the other shows that copied his in the one episode I pulled up to get an accurate quote. could you imagine how uncomfortable it would be if he said that every episode? hah!)
Are you more of a traditional Whose Line fan? Look no further than Game Changer spin-off Make Some Noise, where contestants act out "improvisational prompts that [they have] never seen before, isn't that right contestants?" ("We won't know if we've seen them before or not until we see them!" Brennan insists every time he's on...)
You like musicals but wish they were less... ya know, scripted? Check out "Play It By Ear", a fully improvised musical! (you may be familiar with its primary cast members Jess McKenna and Zach Reino from the podcast that inspired it all, "Off Book: the Improvised Musical Podcast with Zach and Jess")
Or maybe you're more into trivia, cuz you're a total nerd like me (and every single performer that's ever appeared on dropout.tv). How about "Umm, Actually" where contestants are given an incorrect statement and have to buzz in to correct it - but you have to say "Umm, Actually" first!
Straight up, you can't go wrong on Dropout. Please, check it out. They're nearly doubling the amount of original shows they have in 2024, and no other streaming service is doing it like them. If I haven't convinced you yet, get the 7 day trial and give em a chance. There's no referral code I can give you that gives me some sort of kickback or whatever, I genuinely wrote what looks like a thousand word essay about Dropout at 1am just because I love them so much.
youtube
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valentine-writes · 6 months
Note
Can you do enemies to lovers with 1016 Miles?? :3
[ this will be my last req for this account, moving to my new blog officially once this one is up! catch me on @l0vem41l <3 reqs will be open there when i'm ready >︿< ]
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overachiever
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「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, burnout, reader also attends visions academy, reader is trying so so hard to not be mean and fails (im so sorry), one-sided academic rivalry, author doesn't know how american schools work (i am so so sorry), comfort (?) 」
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「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3」
↳ ft. miles morales (1610)
author's note: YES I CAN!!! however,, i put a lil twist on the prompt given and made it academic rivalry (i genuinely cant find a viable reason to beef w/ miles i am so sorry (-﹏-;) !!) anyways! hope this works with you!!! soz itz so short!!! :[[
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"wow," your friend's eyes light up, scanning over your test results, "...you've gotta be like, the smartest person i know."
you laugh politely, smiling at them as they hand your paper back. "no, it's really not that big of a deal–"
"what do you mean 'not that big of a deal?! dude, you got 100% on a test most people failed." your friend shoves their paper in your face as evidence– a 57% in red on theirs. "that's like... the highest grade achievable. probably the highest in cla–"
"THIS GUY GOT A 101%!"
everyone turns to the voice– the loud kid who sat behind miles eyeing his test.
you blinked in disbelief. you didn't even know getting extra credit was possible on this one.
miles looked up at the faces of his staring peers faces filled with disbelief and slight annoyance, and fumbled to set his test face down on his desk. he flashed an awkward grin "uh... yeah?"
-
▸ you liked miles. he was friendly. sweet. genuine. you couldn't hate him if you wanted to. no, you didn't feel hate towards him. it was just... jealousy. simple, petty, burning jealousy.
▸ visions academy was something you had to work your ass off for, constantly studying just to stay on the level of the students who attended. NERDS. all of them were nerds. but you were attending this school too sooo,,,
and then there was miles. someone who barely even had to try to get the highest grades. he had you seething.
▸ the most humiliating part was the fact that he had little to no interest in competing with you at all. the few times you had spoken were awkward and curt on your end, and yes– it felt awful being so mean for something as small as personal resentment.
▸ nothing justified your one word responses or the accidental snark that would slip into those few words. you mentally kicked yourself for the times you watched his grin falter because of something you said, miles awkwardly trying to laugh off whatever cold remark you just shot at him.
he'd walk away, dejected, and you'd stand there for a moment– frozen as you fought the urge to run up to him and try to explain yourself or beg for forgiveness. it didn't make sense to at this point. maybe he'd just accept this was the way you were– the way things would be between you two.
▸ so yes, perhaps in your pursuit of favouring school over every other aspect of your life, your social skills were left rotting and underdeveloped. but you knew, deep down, it wasn't just you being awkward.
being around him made you feel small. talking to someone, radiating the aura of someone with a promise-filled future made you look completely directionless and clueless in comparison. the effort you put into your academics was almost repulsive to think about when miles could take a test with a blindfold on and probably still score 90s.
maybe it was the deep set fear that you'd never amount to anything if you didn't burn yourself out trying. all of a sudden, the academic validation of being good wasn't enough. not when you were one of the best once.
▸ you spent an absurd amount of time trying to avoid him, deliberately moving to the furthest corners of the library so he wouldn't see you there struggling to wrap your head around whatever you were being taught in physics.
heavens above forbid that he walk up to you, greeting you with that sunny smile and cheerful voice that could make anyone falter. you may have been jealous of him– but oh, how you hated that feeling that way when he nothing but well-meaning.
-
the last sip of your coffee– long cooled by now thanks thermodynamics– did nothing to make you feel less dead. you had lost track of the time you had spent practically decomposing in this library, studying for an upcoming physics test that had you reeling just by the mere thought of it.
you sighed, staring at the papers strewn on the desk. your hands fidgeted with the pencil in your hand, it's eraser and tip rendered flat and useless by now, as you tried to muster the energy to gather your things to leave. it was much too late. the library would be closed soon and you'd be forced to go back home to study at your own desk in your bedroom.
this was routine. go to school, study in the library until it gets dark, and go home to study more– the next day, you'd find yourself still awake and studying or with a headache, your cheek pressed to the desk, and drool on your notebook. yeah. your bed hasn't been used in a solid while. and science homework isn't exactly the comfiest pillow. but this is what you were used to.
standing up, you stretched out a bit– and immediately froze as a familiar voice called your name. you paused, reluctantly turning to the source of the voice.
"...god, morales–" you huffed, "you nearly scared me half to death."
this is the friendliest you've been towards him in a while, he notices, as you flash him a tiny, crooked smile on your tired face. all potential malice you could have held had been beaten out by your absolute lack of energy.
he approaches you and looks at your desk, considering what to say to fill the silent air. he places a hand on your shoulder, you stiffen–
"hey." miles flashes a grin, not his signature smile but,, somewhat of a forced smolder.
you stare and resist the urge to cringe, wondering if you were sleep deprived to the point of hallucinations. you gently brush his hand off your shoulder.
"...hi?" you respond, unsure of what to do.
miles is snapped out of whatever stupid trance he was in by your voice.
"oh– uh– yeah, hey," he repeats your name again, trying to recover from whatever that was, "is– is everything okay?"
"i could ask you the same thing."
he lets out a little chuckle. "you know what i mean. all... this." miles' hand gestures vaguely to your desk and current state of complete entropy. "how long have you been here?"
you avert your gaze, shame burning in your face. "i... don't know?"
a pause.
miles places a hand on your back this time, in an attempt of friendly comfort. geez, are they keeping you locked in here?" he quips, earning half of a dry laugh from you. "c'mon. you should probably get home and rest by now."
"but–" your lips part in protest, looking back up at him to argue– but he just looks back, concern filled in his dark doe-like eyes. all possibilities of fighting him on this were out the window.
"you need it." he insists, a gentle smile forming on his face. much better than the weird smoulder from earlier, you think. "i'll even walk you there."
before you can speak up, he moves away from you, beginning to help you gather up your things to pack up. you mumble a silent thank you to him, which he accepts happily with a nod.
as he hands over the papers, his eyes scan them. "oh! physics? i love physics."
"no shit, morales." you scoff, snatching up the papers from him and stuffing them in your bag. "it sure seems to love you."
yet again, you've managed to mess things up. you bite the inside of your cheek before you can say anything worse. a sigh escapes your lips, as you decide to at least try and save the interaction.
"look... i'm really sorry. it's been a rough day, i've been struggling to get the concepts down, i'm falling behind and feeling stupid as hell right now, and– to make everything worse, the fucking test is just stressing me out and i just– i just..." you trail off from your ramblings, a sob getting caught in your throat as your shaky hands grip your backpack.
"woah, woah, hey– it's okay."
he slowly puts an arm around your shoulder, careful not to startle you or make you uncomfortable. you don't even realize how you lean into him. "let's just get you home. you've done your best, yeah?"
you nod. he offers you a little smile.
"exactly. and that's enough. okay? you're doing more than you can handle right now." there's a few more shared words as he reassures you.
part of him wonders how long this had been going on– how long you had been working yourself until you broke– mainly because that test that was stressing you out was more than a week away. yeah. he'd need to convince you to watch after yourself more often.
-
"and now a silly one!!!" (more lighthearted hcs below for the aftermath of this becuz goodness me.)
▸ things definitely ease up around miles. if he can't convince you to step away from your work, he's chosen to be able to regulate it.
studying with him in a local cafe is now a frequent thing you two do together. miles always gives you time to work, but will then ever so subtly lure you into moving on from your work to hang out with him normally. and it works. every single time. you might start in the library or cafe, but where you'll be later? always a mystery.
whether it's a walk in the park, going back to his place to chat, or finding some random activity to do, you find yourself bonding with him more and more. your jealousy begins to fade, finding a friend in him instead of someone you have to one up.
▸ you both spontaneously decided to see a new horror movie once and accidentally got miles in trouble with his parents for coming home after curfew. and he'd 100% do it again in a heartbeat if you asked.
▸ no matter what you get on that next test, miles is going to congratulate you like it's the best he's ever seen. he's overjoyed to share your achievements, to celebrate them like no one in your life ever has.
miles holds up his test as you tell him your grade. "you got a 92? hey look– me too!"
a snarky voice speaks up, "well, i got a 98% so–"
"no one was talking to you." miles retorts.
you press a hand to your mouth and look away, trying to stifle laughter. was he always this sassy or did you just end up rubbing off on him?
▸ you both end up being extra studious for the next test (breaks included this time) and he's sure to be extra loud about congratulating you for your perfect 100%
maybe the sass wasn't all you,,, but the minor pettiness definitely is your influence. it's actually not. miles is pretty easygoing,, but man did he not like when that random ass kid gave you attitude.
you smile at miles, ensuring to do the same for him if not, a little louder
"what? 'm complimenting you." you tilt your head at miles' stunned expression.
for a moment, he stumbles over his words. "i know– you just– i didn't expect that from you, so–"
you laugh. "what? you want me to go back to being mean or something?"
miles laughs too. it's hard not to stare at the way he lights up a room like this.
▸ things feel lighter now. you've made social progress with others, you have a life beyond just school– and you have miles. part of you wonders if you'll ever be able to tell him just how much he means to you and how you wish you could've just been his friend from the start.
sometimes, in the corner of his eye, he catches your wistful stare. and though he doesn't utter a single word, you start to feel that he cherishes you just as much.
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ughgoaway · 28 days
Note
19 with Matty as like a comfort thing 🥺
Maybe girlie is feeling a little insecure that day
love this!! I answered this prompt earlier as a teacher au thing, but I liked the idea of girlie being insecure so I wrote it again but a little diff! hope you enjoy :)
19- character A holding character B’s hands as character B eats them out, fingers intertwined.
18+ pls!! includes female receiving oral and body insecurity/general insecurity. 1.4k-ish
✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿
You pull at your skin in the mirror, the reflection staring back at you wasn't one you recognised. Your eyes look sunken and tired, and your skin is dull when it used to be full of life.
You could stand for hours critiquing every inch of you, what part of you is too small, too big, too harsh or too soft. And you did. After every shower, you stood in front of the mirror, assessing every inch of yourself.
Matty hated it. of course, he did. You were perfect in his eyes, beyond perfect. but he couldn't stop you.
It happened like clockwork every few weeks. However, today, it seemed especially bad. The usual 10-minute assessment dragged on, becoming longer and longer with every tug and prod. He could almost hear your inner voice screaming about how you're not good enough for him and that he deserved better.
Eventually, you came to bed. Flopping on the mattress and immediately trying to burrow yourself under the blanket. but before you can, Matty grips the blanket and pulls it from your hands, forcing you to flip over and face him.
“I know what you're doing,” he says bluntly, eyeing you suspiciously.
“M’okay. I'm just tired. Long week.” you say softly, throwing matty a half-hearted smile.
You're lying. You both know that for a fact, but you pray that just this once Matty lets it go.
He doesn't, of course.
“Baby, I can see right through you. Standing in the mirror for half an hour and mumbling to yourself angrily doesn't exactly scream “im okay”” he pouts teasingly at you, and you can't help but giggle at his pufferfish face (a term you coined for that exact look early on in your relationship)
You sigh heavily before answering, “Yeah, im just - I don't even know. Feeling shitty I guess. Ugly, insecure, unloveable. You know, all the usual Friday night emotions” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, but everyone who knows you knows you joking is a sign something is really bothering you.
“You are none of those things, my love. Let me prove it to you, yeah?” Matty asks, moving to hover over your body.
You can already feel an ache between your thighs at the sight of your boyfriend above you, but you still can't shake how you're feeling.
“You don't have to, matty. I know I don't look great right now. Don't feel pressured or anything, I'm sure I'll just sleep it off.” 
“Never feel pressured with you, I just want to show you how beautiful you are to me, will you let me?” Matty looks down at you with soft eyes, and you can't pretend you don't want him between your legs for a second longer, giving him an assured nod.
“Gotta use your words for me, baby,” Matty lightly demands, dropping his mouth to your neck and pressing kisses to your skin.
“Mmm yes. Make me feel good, please,” you beg, gasping as Matty nips your neck playfully, soothing each patch of skin with his tongue.
“Thats my girl. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart.” Matty whispers in your ear, pulling back with a Cheshire-cat-like grin that has you blushing.
You try to turn away from him, the weight of his eye contact feeling like too much. But Matty places a hand on your jaw, dragging your face back to his and connecting your eyes once more.
Matty holds eye contact as he drops between your thighs, peppering them with kisses and hushed compliments as he moves to where you need him most. His fingers fall between your legs, parting your thighs and spreading you open for him.
“so pretty” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit that rips a gasp from your chest. you can already feel your nerves thrumming with desire.
“Please Matty just- I can't take any teasing, please,” you beg, closing your eyes and trying to catch your breath.
“Anything you want, princess, take my hand, yeah?” Matty’s hand moves from between your legs up to grab your own, lightly gripping your hand to ground you and remind you that he wants you. He wants to make you feel good.
You smile softly down at him, looking into his eyes and memorising the exact way he looks right now, to live in your head for as long as it can.
With his hand in yours, he starts mouthing your cunt, moaning and licking your slick like he's devouring a sweet peach, juices running down his chin as he consumes you.
He’s practically making out with your cunt, burrowing himself between your legs and doing everything he can to make you feel good. Every few minutes you can feel a mumbled complement vibrate against you.
“Tastes so good angel.”
“So beautiful for me.”
“Good girl.”
Every vibration of his words against you pulls you closer to the edge. You can feel your skin growing pinker as matty continues between your thighs, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. Matty is grinding against the mattress below him at the sight of you, but you're too lost in the haze to notice anything right now.
You roll your hips needily against Matty's face, and he immediately understands your silent pleading, moving faster against you and making the fire inside you grow even brighter.
Matty flicks his eyes up to you as he works his mouth over you, slick covering his cheeks as slips a finger inside you, smirking at the broken moan that falls from your lips. Every time his nose brushes your clit you feel a bolt of lightning strike you, your pulse quickens with every touch.
the tension in your gut is growing, and you squeeze mattys hand to warn him, whimpering “close” as best you can between the needy moans and whines.
Matty pulls away briefly, “Cum whenever you need to princess, so good for me.” As soon as he finishes he's diving back between your thighs with a new fervour, fucking you with his tongue and purposefully using his nose to stimulate your clit.
The mix of his tongue and his finger burrowed inside you is dizzying. The air is thickening around you with each passing second, and the only noises filling the room are a mix of your lewd groans and the sticky noises of matty worshipping you.
The neverending streams of compliments and his unrelenting pace against you soon push you to breaking point, coming undone with a whimpered “thank you” and shaking thighs.
Your legs grip around mattys head like a vice, keeping him buried between your legs. And he honestly couldn't be happier with that arrangement, squeezing your hand as you cum to remind you why he's doing this, to remind you how absolutely obsessed he is with every part of you.
Eventually, your legs loosen as the aftershocks stop rattling through your body. The goosebumps over your skin begin to fade, and you start falling back to earth.
Matty quickly moves from between your legs, hovering over you before leaning forward and desperately kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. You groan at the taste, moving your hands to grip Matty's hair, grabbing his curls and pulling him closer against you.
You only break apart when your need for oxygen demands it, Matty panting above you with an overjoyed smile on his face. You smirk back at him, planning to repay him in the best way you know how.
But as you move your hand to grip his boxers, you feel the distinct lack of a boner and the presence of a damp spot sitting on the front of them. Your eyes flick down and study the dark grey patch on his underwear. You scrunch your face in confusion for a few seconds until it dawns on you.
He came. Untouched. Just from eating you out.
Matty sees the realisation on your face and groans, dropping down and burrowing his face in your neck. You can feel his cheeks growing hot as you giggle at his reaction, matty brings his mouth up to your cheek, pressing a kiss to it before he speaks.
“You're just really hot when you cum, im kind of obsessed with it. and you.” he whispers, pulling back to look at you with a cheesy grin. His eyes trace over your face, memorising every aspect of how you look.
Even if one day you become a stranger, if this all ends, he wants to remember exactly how you look right now.
He wants to remember the flush on your cheeks, the way the tip of your nose scrunches when you giggle, and the distinct glow of love in your eyes. 
“Love you,” you whisper, leaning forward until you are a few centimetres from Matty's lips.
“I love you too” he whispers back, surging forward and catching your lips in a kiss he hopes conveys every bit of love that his words couldn't.
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crappymixtape · 23 years
Text
steve harrington • requests // asks
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( ANY REQUESTS AND ASKS FOR ALL CELEBRATIONS, SEASONAL THEMES, AND ONE-OFF INBOXES I GET, STEVE x YOU // mature content marked appropriately )
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🔥 BECAUSE OF YOU, SERIES ( 500 FOLLOWER REQUEST )
PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 • PART 4 • PART 5 // ( 18+ ) ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
👯 1000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION
"play it cool" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, requesting the cd because i think i need to explore more music and this seems like a good way to do that! | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this one is a lil fluffy, a lil flirty, a lil fun – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )
"don't go dark again" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, oh baby, you know I gotta ask for a song for my beloved, steve | ( song x blurb with steve harrington x reader – this just leaned real angsty, hurt / comfort for a monday morning – recommended to listen to your song while reading! )
"honey, i've got it bad for you" – 1000 CELEBRATION REQUEST, can i pls request a love note from steve <3 as for mood anything a little lovelorn and fluffy will do | ( love note steve harrington x reader, little fluffy, little lovesick, lots of sweet )
🎄 A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE – WINTER THEMED ASKS
"very merry mixtape" winter!theme REQUESTS are nested under the series / multi-part master list post *18+
👯 500 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION
"don't make me say it" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, you make me want things I can’t have prompt | ( 2k – mostly angst, dumb boi steve, and a little fluff right at the end to take you home, steve x reader )
"i hate you ( not )" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, love a good enemies to lovers smutty fic – anything works, just lots of sarcasm and name calling to build up the tension • *18+  | ( 3.6k – a nice lil mountain of angst that rolls down into a big ol’ valley of smut, steve x reader )
"good love makes you hesitate" – 500 CELEBRATION REQUEST, don’t do this here prompt | ( 2.2k – all of the angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friends to lovers, steve x bff!reader )
💌 CRAPPYMIXTAPE INBOX ASKS
"you gotta help me, baby" – REQUEST -> fluffy one about you having a summer job babysitting and Steve always coming over to keep you company...idc just Steve being a massive simp as always | (  2.3k, modern!day au, fluff, established relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )
"shut up and kiss me" – REQUEST -> fluff prompt #25 "shut up and kiss me” • you get laid off and go back to hawkins for the weekend to wallow with your friends and the gang seizes the opportunity to try and get you two dummies to figure it out | ( 5.7k – fluff, a little angst, mostly fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
"smoke and glitter" – REQUEST -> robin's been begging you to throw a party down yb the lake on your uncle's farm, like on another level, so you finally give in and who does she drag along? some co-worker from the mall and he's a total dork...right? | ( 2k, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
💌 MOOD BOARD x SONGS ASKS
"idiots -> lovers" steve harrington x you, idiots / enemies to lovers
"valentine's day" steve harrington x you, soft / intimate *18+
"best friends -> lovers" steve harrington x you, bffs to lovers
"enemies -> lovers" steve harrington x you, enemies to lovers at work *18+
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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just seen this random post come across my feed abt the men who whimper or moan a lot and I am now feral bc they so would!
cw: squirting, overstimulation, choking, back-shots, breeding
imagine him gripping your waist, tugging you back against him with each stroke..your soft, round ass ricocheting off of the bone of his pelvis and chiseled v-line. It’s the most beautiful view he’s ever seen, honestly; only rivaled by that of the pearl colored cream emitting from your warmth, slathering his shaft. His fingernails pressed into the soft flesh intersecting your hip and thighs as he relentlessly slams his cock inside of you..
“Baeeee!—fuck..”
the words escaped your lips but didn’t resonate to his ears. In fact, he was so far lost..immersed so deeply in the sensation of your sex. So much so, that his eyes are squeezed shut, head tossed back and mouth agape.
his hands are enclosed around your wrists; pulling both arms back while he’s drilling your shit. Those big, full balls are slamming vehemently against your spasming hole; this motion speeding up along with those deep strokes he keeps feeding that sopping pussy.
there are so many noises..so many mellifluous sounds filling the bedroom but they all pale in comparison to one in particular:
“Oh shitttt!—‘feels so fucking gooood!”
the high pitched, guttural moans escaping his throat, growing louder by the second. His Adam’s apple moving in reaction. You would’ve never guessed that such a sound even came from a big, muscular six foot something man but being buried hilt deep inside of that slippery, slick filled cunt for almost an hour was taking its toll.
the two of you had been going rounds; fucking like absolute animals in every position possible. Tearing the room up with your ravenous lovemaking. The bedsheets are soaked in puddles as a result of him making you squirt like a fountain.
even after all that dick he’s giving you, you’re still gripping so firmly..
“ ‘S so fucking wet..oh my—you just keep creaming on my dick like that..”
by this time, he’s even fucking his own cum out of you after filling you full of nut for the second time only fifteen minutes ago.
needless to say, you were at your limits; damn near overstimulated at this point but it’d be a cold day in hell before he stops fucking you! It feels too heavenly to even dream of pulling out.
he wants to stay in it..live in that pussy if it were possible. But for now, burrowing himself over your entire frame, falling into collapsed back-shots would have to suffice. You can’t even let out screams anymore, forced only to make contorted faces and let tears fall but to him, they are still so beautiful.
not to worry though..because he’s making enough for the both of you! This grown man whimpering like a little puppy as he finally loses his rhythm. He can’t even keep up anymore. That tip consistently poking at your most sensitive spot, prompting you to bury your face into the pillow.
this seems to be his motivator for the final stride..and of course that amazing arch you’re somehow maintaining.
knowing how much you despise having your hair pulled and messed up, he suffices by clutching his fingers across the front of your throat. Tugging you back up with drool seeping from your mouth whilst he fucks you completely dumb.
there’s not one single thought coming across your mind right now and he’s pretty much broke your brain and body.
you’re practically begging and pleading with him to come so you can both have relief but you know it’s futile to even suggest such a thing.
“I-I can’t stop, baby! Gotta..come in this fucking pussyyy.”
his words slurred as if he was intoxicated but he’s merely only pussy drunk; obsessed and immersed deep in the mixture between your thighs.
but sadly, he can no longer maintain his pace and you feel that pressure in the pit of your stomach begin to throb as well..before you know it, those sweet moans begin to sound like full blown cries and unbeknownst, droplets swollen from his eyes on each side of his face fall.
he’s finally done it: fucked himself to literal tears! But it wouldn’t have been possible without your fat, tight and gushing center cradling him for this long. So it’s only right that he rewards you properly..
“GAH! SHIT—(y/n)..BABY—“
you feel that intense pounding come to a halt and his grip on the small of your back become a lot tighter.
giving him that final push to finally stop, you cry in a faint voice of your own, able to tilt your head up in his direction:
“…come for me, baby boy..put that nut all in my pussy..”
there was no need to tell him twice and with what was only followed by an ear shattering scream, he pours the remainder of his seed into that inviting womb. Not even thinking about it giving a damn about what may follow..he just wants to empty those balls and let you milk him for everything he has.
“Shit! Shit..“
he’s fully aware of how pathetic he may look or sound at the moment but you’re the only one who can coax this side from him and for that, he’s not ashamed.
collapsing atop your back, completely drained and flushed..he peppers kisses down your neck and spine, constantly telling you how much he loves you; even gracious for letting him have your body in such a way..
you’re barely conscious and so is he but he just has to tell you one last thing before your inevitable collapse.
you feel his tears dripping against your heated skin and his lips brushing your earlobe, whispering gently..the quietest you’ve heard him all night:
“..thank you for letting me be so vulnerable. Sorry I got so carried away.”
but he has nothing to apologize for because you wanted to hear and make him feel that good all the time.
__________________________________________________
portgas d. ace, aran oijiro, tengen uzui, eren jaeger, taiga kagami, armin artlert, keigo takami, connie springer, shikamura nara, gintoki sakata, ichigo kurosaki
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flamingpudding · 6 months
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Fictober23 Prompt: 11 - "You lost it, Well, we lost it."
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: G
Warnings: -
A/N: Ties to this Post, but can be read independently, or at least I hope. I am bad at judging these kind of things.
"Daniel." Damian hissed looking over his shoulder at the floating presence next to him. 'Daniel' had his back turned to him, arms crossed and was clearly pouting. The preteen's right eye twitched.
"Daniel, look at me." Really was this the others reaction to getting told to shut up after he had rambled a good while about his oldest brother and causing them to lose the artifact they had just acquired?
"My name is not Daniel."
"For such an old being, you are being childish." Damian huffed back, having had this kind of argument before with Daniel, well Danny as the ghost - spirit - his past life's soul or whatever he should call him, insisted.
"And you are not childish enough. You are what? 11? 12? Be a kid and live more!" Danny turned around, throwing his arms out while doing a twirl in the air. Damian watched how the other's hands lit up green and he let sparks fly, imitating a firework.
"We do not have time for this." Damian huffed instead, turning his focus back to their surroundings.
"If not now, when then?" Danny retorted, floating next to his shoulder again, looking at the map Damian had laid out on the ground, several areas were already crossed out and the boy was tapping with a pencil against the paper.
"We wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't distracted me before, with facts that I did not need to know."
"Excuse me? I find the fact that I figured out who Dash got reborn as very important! Like do you know how badly I want to go to Clockwork and beg him to sent be back in time just so I could see his face if I told him? That's something you should be looking forward to with how interested you had been about some of the others. Ancients! Dan would laugh even more if I told him!"
Standing up and dusting his pants Damian crossed his arms staring unimpressed at the now rambling ghost. Now going on and on about the fact that since they were tied together, he would get dragged along and prove that Danny wasn't lying to his former bully about having become a super protective and wacky older brother.
Pinching the bridge of his nose Damian, felt like he could relate to his fathers a bit more now. "Daniel."
"Just image the face he would make and…"
"Daniel."
"....of course it would be hard to prove but since we can't get more than 20 ft distance you would…"
"....Daniel James Fenton."
"...once we are there I could also show you how Dad and Mom used to be and…"
"... Daniel Phanom."
"... you could help me figure out who Vlad was reborn as once you saw past him. I am still…"
Damian sighed, glaring at the still rambling Ancient of Balance, Ghost King or whatever other title the ghost had acquired. "Danny."
In an instant Danny's head snapped to Damian with stars in his eye. "DAMI! You called me Danny!"
His eye twitched and he suppressed whatever he wanted to return right now and opted to only click his tongue. "Oh right, we got a job to do! We gotta find that artifact, we had researched."
The younger turned his unimpressed stare into a glare. "You mean the artifact we had, previously before you distracted me with your ramblings again."
"That's right! You lost it!" Danny knocked with a fisted hand against the flat of his palm in realization, smiling brightly. "That ninja guy took it, the one you said who was working for your Peepaw right?"
"Please do not call grandfather that. Besides, you distracted me. Being the only one able to see you is clearly a hindrance not an advantage as you insisted." Damian huffed back, turning his face to the side.
"Still doesn't change the fact that it got taken from you. Ergo you lost it!" Danny grinned widened, ready to tease Damian more about having lost the artifact they had painfully researched and tried to find behind their families back. Though the ghost blinked as Damian suddenly smirked up at him. "Well, we lost it. You told me once that we were supposed to be the same person until you were removed from the reincarnation cycle. But this soul magic recognizes you and me as the same. Despite you seeing me for who I am, we are bound."
"Uh…"
Damian continued to smirk. "You are essentially teasing yourself."
The two stared at each other, one smirking triumphantly the other staring in disbelief and with a gabbing mouth. Finally Danny huffed, crossing his arms and pouting as he floated cross legged next to his sort-of-but-not-reincarnation. "Don't tell Dan you outworded me again."
"I have yet to meet this 'Dan', Daniel." Damian answered easily as he uncrossed his arms and picked up the map, having decided where to go next now that Danny was no longer spouting nonsense and would be of help. He had noticed small traces of his grandfather's man that had taken the artifact from them.
"Nooooooo!" Damian only so much as inclined his head slightly into the other direction. Bracing himself for next nonsense the other would come up with only to see from the corner of his eyes how Danny dramatically fell into a horizontal floating position, acting like he was laying flat on the floor. "You are back to being all formal names! I thought we made progress!"
Damian only smirked hopping off the roof they had been on, back on track to get the artifact back. It had only been two weeks but he had become quite fond of his dramatic past self, despite the existential worries he had caused at first. Still as much as he had gotten fond of Danny, he did not want for the other to be stuck with him forever. After all, the Ghost King surely had his own duties to attend to, yet Damian wouldn't mind if the Ancient became a permanent fixture in his life.
Maybe he could even introduce him to the rest of the family, once the soul magic was resolved and he was no longer the only one able to see him.
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