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rhysazriel · 9 days

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Smoke & Light: Part 3 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: A run in with the cops is another reminder of the horrors Azriel faced through his childhood. Maybe one day he'll open up about it, but not today. Today, he's solely focussed on helping you out of a bad trip. (8.2k)

WARNINGS: swearing, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), greening out, teasing, flirting, kissing, dirty talk, use of toys hehe, slapping/spanking, spitting, dom!Az, mentions of Az's abusive childhood.

A/N: firstly, I want to massively apologise for not updating this in sooo long. Life has been busy and I've been reading so much lately that writing slipped my mind. To make up for it, there is some filthy smut in this chapter and I am hoping to be a bit more consistent with the next updates. Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When Azriel was a young boy, he dreamt of becoming a guitarist. It didn’t matter to him then if he was famous or not. Just so long as he was good enough to be able to replicate famous rifts with his own spin, and create his own music, too.

For his fifth birthday, his mother bought him a children’s guitar, complete with the plastic pics and a leather strap with his initials etched into the fine fabric. He knew, even at that age, that the gift had cost his mother a small fortune. But she didn’t care how much it set her back. The look of pure shock and excitement on her boy's face was worth every single penny she spent.

He could still remember the untold amounts of sleep he would forfeit to learn a new chord or finally string more than three together at once. By seven years old, he could recreate the first half of Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd—albeit choppy and slightly out of time—and memorise the chords by heart.

His half-brothers had never liked that about Azriel. His talent and passion for music and the guitar. Even at the ages of five and four, they did not like Azriel. More often than not, they’d plant broken vases and stained cushions for their parents to find, and blame them on Azriel. They knew their father would take away his guitar for a few days to a week as punishment.

But even then, a week wasn’t long enough. Their hatred for Azriel stemmed long before his love for guitar had grown. From the moment his half-brothers learned how to talk, Az was on the daggered end of their spiteful tongue and manipulative masterminds. As young as he was, Azriel wasn’t blind to the cause of it. He wasn’t blind to his step-father’s hatred for him, that he then instilled in his own blood sons.

Being what they called a ‘blood traitor’ would always be their main justification for what they did. Azriel had never admitted to anyone the second reason his brothers set his hands alight. But the other thought behind it—the more vicious and calculated thought—was to burn not just his hands, but his dreams, too.

For months after the incident, Azriel’s hands remained bandaged. He could hardly use them for everyday tasks like dressing and washing and eating. And when they had finally healed enough for the bandages to be permanently removed, he couldn’t play his beloved guitar.

The strings were too harsh on his sensitive skin. It hurt so much just pressing down on the chords on the neck, let alone pinching the pic for longer than thirty seconds at a time. Azriel had to learn how to play all over again, covered in blisters and burnt flesh. And then his marred skin began to harden and callous and every strum was more painful than before.

He often wondered if this would still be his life path had the burning never happened. If he would have still met Rhys and Cass, if he would still be selling drugs. He knew he wouldn’t be this well-off financially, but at what cost? What did all of this money mean when it was just him? When he wouldn’t be able to fulfil his biggest dream in life?

He mostly thought about it all in times like this, when he was spontaneously pulled over by the cops for what they called a “random stop and search”, though they had never given a plausible cause for it. And today would be no different.

“You stalking me again, Reynolds?” Az asked in a rugged tone as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette.

Officer Reynolds, one of the few officers that continuously pulled Az over and searched his vehicle, leaned against the open window with his arms crossed. His blue eyes gleamed with hope of catching something on him this time, though Az knew Reynolds would walk away with another few grey hairs to add to his collection.

Reynolds was a strange looking man. Not in his features, but in the glint of his eyes and the disturbing tug of his lips whenever he offered a grim smile. He radiated nothing but offsetting energy, one that stunk of noncy behaviour and less than ethical tendencies.

His iced eyes darted quickly across Azriel’s lap and the passenger's seat, coming up short and settling his gaze on the man again.

“Random stop and search, nothing personal.” He grinned that awful smile but Azriel paid no mind to it. “Step out of the car, licence and registration.” Azriel was already reaching into the glovebox for his paperwork before Reynolds could even speak.

He handed them over, opening the door as the officer stepped away, and stood with his hands on the hood of his Mustang. Azriel knew the drill. He’d been patted down and had his car searched more times than he could count in the past six months alone.

And each and every time, Reynolds always came up short.

“Got any weapons in the vehicle?”

Azriel rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder as Reynolds began to pat down his stomach and thighs. “Do I look like the type that needs a weapon?”

A dry chuckle slipped from the officers lips as he patted harder down Azriel’s calves and ankles before turning to his full—albeit short—height. “What about narcotics? Any drugs that I should be aware of?”

Az grunted with another roll of his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Officer Reynolds didn’t offer a response. Instead, he bent his body into the driver's side of the Mustang and began stifling through every nook and cranny that his swollen hands could reach.

Azriel’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited and waited for the search to end. They wouldn’t find a damn thing, especially because of the new addition Azriel had recently added to his modded car.

But that knowledge of the secret compartment didn’t stop his muscles from tensing just slightly when Reynolds wrapped his puffed fingers around the foot mat and peeled it up.

Azriel’s stash was well hidden; wrapped and locked in an extended box beneath his footwell that managed to also keep the scent out. He knew it was a matter of time before they started bringing a K9 with them on their searches, so Azriel had to be prepared for that well in advance.

Especially with how strong the new strain smelt.

With a huff, Reynolds haphazardly threw the foot mat back down and struggled to clamber out of the car. And just like Azriel suspected, he came up short.

Reynolds handed him back his paperwork and rested his hands back on his belt, fingers itching for his baton to give Az a taste of the frustration he caused him. Azriel didn’t so much as bat an eye at it. He knew Reynolds wouldn’t touch him. Not if he wanted to keep both his stumpy legs in use.

“You know, this is getting pretty old. How do I go about filing a harassment charge?”

Reynolds scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

If there was one thing Az liked about having his brothers home, it was the lack of talking his mind did. There was no silence for his brain and thoughts to gang up on him, to have him question every thought and decision he’d ever made.

Music and guitar usually helped to quiet those demons—the shadows that he had no control over—but the frustration from his earlier encounter with Reynolds had the desire for playing at the bottom of his list.

Instead, he settled for Nesta’s demand to braid her hair. She knew him better than she let the others know. Since they first met years ago, he became the brother she never had, that she never knew she needed. She was quick to learn his quirks and mannerisms; what they meant and how he felt.

And he learnt the same for her.

“You’re doing it too loose,” Nesta huffed, picking at her nails from her seat on the carpet between Azriel’s parted thighs. He huffed, flexing his fingers and undoing the braid.

“Last time you told me it was too tight and it gave you a migraine,” he retorted back with an exasperated huff.

They argued like real siblings, too.

“Just do it a little looser than last time.”

Azriel split her hair into three sections once more and slowly started to braid, overlapping the sections and tugging a bit tighter than his previous attempt. Nesta hummed in approval.

They didn’t pay much mind to the others. Rhys and Feyre were cuddled on the loveseat opposite them, Cassian on their left with a bulky pair of headphones on his head as he smashed the buttons of the gaming remote beneath his fingers.

He was growing frustrated that he was losing, but it didn’t help that his hands were so massive that the pad of his thumb was big enough to press all the buttons at once.

“Hey, Az… there’s this girl I know…” Azriel’s grunt cut Feyre off before she could say anything else. He tied Nesta’s braid and tapped her shoulders, signally he was done.

“Not this again, Fey,” he groaned.

A sheepish smile sat on her full lips, a gentle tint of pink blushing the apples of her cheeks. “I really think you guys would get along, though. She’s super laid back and so gorgeous.”

Nesta moved from between Az’s thighs on the ground and clambered back onto the sofa, reaching for her tumbler of gin and tonic. Azriel was used to this, to Feyre trying to set him up. Each time, he’d always shut her advances down, but that never stopped her.

Feyre considered it a challenge, and she wouldn’t stop until Azriel agreed to go on a date. Just once, and she’d back off. She was fairly confident that one date would be all it would take for Azriel to fall for her mysterious friend.

“I don’t need to be set up,” he spoke, finality in his tone.

Rhys cocked a brow at how quickly Az dismissed his girlfriend but said nothing. He knew Feyre could get a bit too much with it sometimes, but Rhys himself still had hopes that maybe one day, Az would bite the bullet and just agree.

But Azriel had no plans to do that. He didn't want to be set up on a blind date, and he most certainly did not need nor want his friends involving themselves in his love life—or lack thereof. It wasn’t that he struggled with girls, Mother, no. Not once in his life did Azriel ever have a shortage of pussy.

If he wanted it, he would get it. On his own. Without his brother's girlfriend’s self-involvement.

His phone chimed from his back pocket, and not bothering another glance at Feyre, Azriel retrieved it to read over the message.

You: you weren’t kidding. This shit is strongggg x

His heart rate quickened as he read the text again and again. Azriel hadn’t heard from for three days—since that kiss—and now he was reminiscing on the taste of your mouth on his.

Azriel: I did warn you

You: maybe next time you could write a reminder on my baggie?

A grin stretched across the expanse of his lips, eyes glittering at how quickly you responded. The act didn’t go unmissed by Nesta, who grinned against her staw and wiggled her toes against the side of Azriel’s thigh. She knew that face—that look.

“Azzy doesn’t want to get set up because he already has a crush on someone.”

All eyes snapped to Azriel and Nesta at her words, eyes so wide they almost bulged from their heads. They all knew Az was a ladies man, that although he kept his sex life private, he was well endowed in that aspect. But what they had never really seen was Azriel with a crush.

With someone who was more than a booty call or a fling.

Az narrowed his eyes at Nesta, a hard expression removing his previous smile. The phone in his hand began to vibrate and a quick glance at it had your number filling the screen through an incoming call.

His heart stammered.

“I don’t have a crush. It’s just a client.” He stood from the couch, his scarred thumb hovering over the answer button.

Nesta grinned maniacally, taking another sip of her gin. “A lady client?” Azriel’s response was a pillow launched at Nesta’s face before leaving his family and shutting himself away in his bedroom.

Az took a deep breath then swiped his screen to accept the call. “Hey,” he greeted, bringing the phone to his ear. “You doing okay?”

There was a pregnant pause for a moment before your airy laugh breathed down the line and Azriel’s throat began to close up at the sound. “I think I’ve greened out a little,” you giggled, almost painfully. “Everything is spinning and heavy and when I close my eyes, I get seasick… is that normal?”

Az pursed his lips, biting back his own smile. The fact that you’d managed to text full sentences and then call him suggested you hadn’t greened out too badly. And by the light self-deprecating laugh at your own situation, he knew you weren’t falling in too deep of a hole.

“It should pass soon, it shouldn't get worse than how you feel now. Where are you?”

“I’m at home so I’m okay. I just didn’t know what was the best thing to help.”

Azriel shouldn’t have let your words affect him the way they did. They shouldn’t have warmed his heart and sent it soaring in his chest. But in your slightly vulnerable predicament, out of everyone that smoked in your life and would understand, it was him that you called for advice.

Not your friends, not your ex. Him.

“Honestly? Food and water.”

Another pause of silence had Azriel thinking a bit too much again. If you were calling him for advice, this was likely your first time greening out, and he wondered if you’d even be able to handle making yourself food alone.

After a moment of consideration, he spoke again. “Want me to stop by?”

Azriel could hear your soft breath through the call. “Isn’t that crossing a line?” you asked in a gentle voice.

He frowned, brows pinched. “What line?”

“I’m your client, you’re my plug,” you reminded him, and something about it sent a sour taste to the back of his throat.

“You’re my friend,” he offered.

He wondered if you considered that or not, and by the pause of silence once more, he got his answer.

“I am?” The soft tone of your question hurt him more than it should’ve. It shouldn’t have hurt him at all.

“Am I not yours?”

You were considering it, though. In your book, he was definitely your friend. He’d comforted you just a few nights ago after the fiasco with your sister's secret wedding, had bought you food and then… He’d kissed you. Or had you kissed him?

You supposed he was your friend, but you didn’t think you meant anything more to him than being just another client. Clearly, you were wrong.

“Yeah… I guess you are.”

The corners of Azriel's lips tugged upward slightly. “Great, so send me your address and I’ll stop by with some food.”

Perhaps you should’ve told him no, that it truly wasn’t necessary and you could just pick at a couple of leftover cookies you’d baked yesterday. But you didn’t. You wanted to see him again, wondered so desperately if that kiss had meant anything at all… if it would happen again.

“I have a spare set of keys in a security lock outside. The code is 4369, let yourself in.”

You didn’t know how much time you had to try and sort yourself out before Azriel would arrive. But as hard as you tried, every time you raised your head you were met with an onslaught of nausea and dizziness.

You spent around five minutes attempting to regulate your breathing to rid those feelings, but your body remained stomach down on the couch with your face squished against a pillow.

If you could stomach the feeling of your eyes being closed for longer than five seconds at a time, you probably could’ve fallen asleep. But alas, the sound of a key entering the lock of your front door had your eyes widening a little further and heart stammering against your ribs.

“Knock, knock.” Azriel’s voice dripped with honey as he spoke into the expanse of your open plan living-kitchen area.

Though you couldn’t see him from your position, you could hear the faint rusting of a takeout bag in his hand as he closed the door quietly and kicked off his shoes at the door.

You didn’t need to call out to him for Az to see you. Sprawled on the sofa, just off to his left, he grinned comically, ignoring the unfamiliar swell in his chest. His feet padded closer to the couch, settling the food on the coffee table and the smell of hot, fried chicken wafted through your senses.

Azriel helping you sit up and handing you the same meal you ordered the last time you saw one another was a bit of a blur. But the second the food hit your tongue and your tastebuds exploded in delight, the nausea slowly dwindled from your senses.

“You are my saviour,” you moaned around the food, eyes fluttering closed and none the wiser to Azriel’s growing blush.

Sat in comfortable silence, Azriel didn’t want you to focus on anything other than feeling yourself again. Within a few minutes, you’d both finished your food and your face didn’t seem so sunken and pasty.

Now, you looked wonderfully blitzed, skin a little brighter than before and a sparkling sheen to your bloodshot eyes. Yeah, you were out of the woods, your body warm and relaxed.

“You feeling okay?” he finally managed to ask, shoving the last fry between his lips as you nodded at his question.

“I feel perfectly baked now.”

A laugh spluttered from his lips at your words as he wiped his scarred hands clean on a paper napkin. For the first time in the past twenty minutes, Az allowed his eyes to gaze across the expanse of your rather cosy living room.

Soft, golden lighting that warmed the room, plants of varying shapes and colours tucked into every corner and crevice available. Mismatched furniture and draping vines.

It was cute, all of it. Very you. The wall facing the couch was hidden beneath tall bookcases that were filled to the brim with every type of book he could imagine. Even with squinted eyes, he could make out a few familiar authors amongst your shelves.

“Have you read all of those?” He threw his gaze to you, wonder and slight adoration in his eyes, though you were sure you imagined the latter.

“Mhm,” you hummed around your drink. “Some more times than I can remember.”

You watched him stand from the couch, his tall frame approaching your collection. He was dressed in black again – his simple jeans and sweater combo – and his hair was perfectly tousled and swept down his forehead.

Eyes on him, his finger traced the spines of your beloved possessions, settling on one in particular that made your breath still in your chest. Azriel gently pulled it off the shelf, hazel eyes examining the near-pristine cover.

“Careful,” your soft voice warned him. “It’s worth three grand.”

Azriel’s eyes almost bulged from his head as he turned to you with the most bewildered expression you’d ever seen. It took every ounce of control not to burst into laughter.

“What?”

“It’s 134 years old. I restored it the best I could. You should’ve seen it when I found it.”

Azriel’s brows pulled into a confused frown. “Restored it?”

“Yeah, that’s what I do for work.”

When his frown didn’t ease, you cleared your throat to continue. “I work between an auction and a museum in the city. I find the old books and restore them, then sell them through the auction, or they go to the museum.”

His once furrowed brows raised, his eyes darting back to the book in his hand as if he was inspecting the eighth wonder of the world. Azriel finally turned back to you with a smile that borderlined a smirk.

“That’s actually pretty cool.”

A satisfied yet sheepish smile found its way to your lips, cheeks warming under the intensity of his gaze. Azriel slid the book back onto the shelf and continued his observations.

If you were being honest, it was a little too intimate for your liking. No one in your life had ever taken such interest in your books, not your friends or past lovers. It wasn’t like your love for books was much of a secret, but no one had taken the time to get to know them.

To know your books was to know you.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Azriel was the person to do so. In the short time you’d known him, you realised he was full of surprises.

“What about you?” Your voice greeted his ears softly as you cleaned up the trash from your food. Azriel casted barely a look over his shoulder, eyes caught on your limited edition fantasy book set. A part of you begged to take Azriel’s attention off them. “What do you do for work?”

That seemed to earn his full attention, causing him to turn to face you fully. With an amused smirk, he followed you a few feet into the open kitchen. “You know what I do for work.”

Ah.

“You don’t have anything…legal…to keep on the books?”

He tried to hide his amusement at your words, but to no avail. Azriel’s smirk only grew and he found himself wondering if his answer might make you think differently of him.

“If you wanna talk…legalities…then I’m an investor in the stock market.”

It was your turn to hold the raised eyebrows – a look that Azriel was quick to mirror. “What?” He asked. “You don’t think I could work in stocks?”

“Do you?” You pressed.

Azriel’s grin widened slightly. “I do. And I’ll have you know that I’m very good at it.”

You didn’t want nor need to know any more. You weren’t about to outright ask how much money he had, and if he told you out of his own desire, you were certain it would only make you feel like pure shit.

Your apartment and belongings weren’t much but they were yours. Everything you had, you worked for. You could do without knowing how many thousands he had sitting pretty in his bank.

Azriel noticed that distant look in your eyes and took a seat at your island. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable. And if he was being perfectly honest, it was appallingly refreshing to speak with a woman about his side-hustle without them swooning or prying for more details.

And it appeared that it was only now that either of you were realising how different things were the last time you saw one another. When your lips pressed against his and he kissed you back with just as much want and vigour.

As if remembering that searing moment, your face and chest began to warm. You were quick to turn away from him, needing a moment to compose yourself and the tight feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You tried desperately to ignore the ache between your thighs at the memory, instead opting to focus your attention on the half empty box of cookies on the counter. Flipping the lid, you offered one to Azriel who took it without much prompting.

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line, but if you make enough money investing in stocks, why do you still deal?”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed as he took a bite out of the chocolate chip cookie, and you found your eyes zeroed in on the way his plump lips moved and his broad shoulders slacked slightly.

His eyes opened to focus on yours. “These are incredible.” You offered a smile, waiting. “Dealing is what got me the money to be able to invest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m good at it, but I lost a lot to get where I am. Dealing is steady income for now. It’s not something I plan to do forever.”

You didn’t probe any further, satisfied with the answer he provided and not wanting to push your luck. Your eyes were drawn to his mouth again, flashes of memories littering your mind as your body warmed once more.

Clearing your throat, you desperately tried to blink away the haziness he seemed to make you feel.

“You can smoke out on the balcony, if you want.”

Azriel finished the last of his cookie and leaned forward on the counter. “I didn’t bring anything.”

Your head tilted slightly to the half-smoked joint on your counter, stubbed out and back in your open tin. “Smoke the rest of that. It’s too strong for me and I know your tolerance is higher than mine.”

Azriel laughed; hearty and rich and deep. It tickled up your spine and reached around your neck and jaw to tug the corners of your lips into a smile. The effect he had on you was growing to be a slight problem.

“You wanna come? Fresh air will help.”

He watched you pinch the joint and lighter from your tin and lead him through to your bedroom. It was decorated similarly to the rest of your apartment–twinkling fairy lights and books and plants–and out on the small balcony, you’d managed to cram a rattan loveseat and table with vines wrapped around the short iron guard rail.

“Here.” You handed him the joint and lighter. “I’ll be back out, I’m just going to change.”

Azriel sparked up the joint between his lips, taking a long drag as you returned to your room. The smoke hit the back of his throat sharply, almost knocking him sideways. Even he hadn’t smoked a joint this packed and strong in a while. It was no wonder you’d had a wobble with it.

He took a seat on the rattan furniture, admiring the little view your balcony offered. The summer air kissed his skin, even as late as the evening was. The warmth of it had him shrugging off his sweater and throwing it over the table, taking another deep pull.

If Azriel was honest, he was quite thankful for the moments reprieve from your presence. He needed to take a second to calm himself down. Az couldn’t remember the last time he partook in something like this with someone who wasn’t his brothers or their girls.

This was more of a common thing with Nesta, smoking and eating together. Never Feyre, she always preferred a glass of wine, and occasionally Mor would smoke with him when she was passing through town. Never a random girl, never a new friend.

But that moment's reprieve was ripped away far too quickly, because you were sauntering back onto the balcony and stealing the breath right from Azriel’s smoked lungs.

He was fucked. Comepletly and utterly fucked. He’d never seen you look so relaxed, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of mismatched socks. Your hair was thrown up lazily and stray pieces fell out to frame your face.

Your legs, however, he couldn’t stop gawking. Soft skin and a whole lot of thigh. Azriel forced his gaze to your face again as you took a seat beside him on the loveseat, leaning your back on the armrest and bringing your knees up to your chest.

Mother above, he could feel his cock begin to strain in his pants, his eyes begging to sweep your body once more to see what lay between your slightly parted legs. From his peripheral vision, he could see you cross your ankles, effectively shielding yourself.

But Azriel was good at reading people, and by the slight flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes grew more hooded by the second, he was more than certain you knew what you were doing and the affects your actions had on him.

He took another pull of the joint. “You weren’t kidding,” he mumbled, “this shit is strong.” A bubbly laugh fell from your lips at the way his eyes squinted when the drug settled into his lungs.

“I did warn you.”

Azriel offered it to you, watching your inner turmoil as you weighed out your options until pinching it from his fingers. “One pull will be enough to keep me buzzed for the night.”

He watched your lips thin as they clamped down on the roach. He watched your chest rise as your lungs filled with the thick tar until you pulled the joint from your lips and exhaled slowly. You handed it back to him, cutting yourself off completely for the night.

Azriel took it between two pinched fingers, keeping his eyes on your slightly flushed face as he took another few drags before stuffing the cherry out in the ashtray. His gaze found purchase on your lips again as he mirrored your position on the loveseat, though Az didn’t tuck his knees to his chest.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” He asked.

You blinked at him, head tilted slightly to the left. “Talk about what?”

The way his taunting smirk grew made you shift uncomfortably. You had an inkling as to what he meant, but you hoped if you played dumb, he would drop it. Clearly not.

“About the last time we saw each other.”

Yup. There it is.

That familiar warmth spread across your face and chest again in waves of anxiety and embarrassment. You couldn’t handle this type of conversation right now. You were mortified enough as it was, you didn’t need to reminisce about your stupid mistake, nor the way he kissed you back as though his life depended on it.

You let out a long sigh. “I was kind of hoping you’d forgotten about it.”

Azriel quirked a brow. “Forget about it?” he asked. “You expected me to forget a kiss like that?”

It felt like all the air had been completely sucked from your lungs. You could hardly breathe, struggling to string a coherent reply together. Azriel continued to smirk at you, bathing in the way he clearly made you feel. Like he was getting off on your flustered state.

The state he put you in.

“It’s been replaying in my head for days.” Azriel’s admission sent your mind into a frenzy. You had no idea what to do with that information or how it was supposed to make you feel.

What you did know, was that familiar burning in the pit of your stomach, that daunting ache between your clenched thighs. And the way Azriel's eyes darkened and slowly traced the silhouette of your figure, you got the hint he felt the same way, too.

“Yeah?” Your words came out as barely a whisper, lashes fluttering as the weed you’d just smoked began to settle into your bloodstream.

Azriel inched a hand tentatively toward your ankle, the tips of his scarred fingers brushing against your cotton socks. The touch had your body keening for more, your legs twitching as he slowly wrapped a large hand around your lower leg.

“Yeah,” he replied, almost breathless.

He was testing the waters, desperate to get a feeler as to what you wanted from this interaction. Azriel watched you closely, cataloguing every response your body gave his touch. How goosebumps broke across the silky skin of your legs, how your cheeks flushed slightly and lashes fluttered at him.

“Is that all you’ve been thinking about?” Your husky voice finally broke through the silence. Az raised a brow at your boldness. “Or do you let your mind wander to what else could’ve happened?”

If it weren’t for the stifling warmth in the air, Azriel was sure he would’ve come in his pants from your words alone. Because he knew that meant you’d been letting your mind wander to something more.

You allowed him to gently tug your leg down, resting the back of your calf across his thigh. Your covered cunt was surely exposed, but Az didn’t look. Not yet. A sneaky peek wouldn’t be enough to satiate the appetite he had grown for you.

He needed to bathe and bask and bury himself in your scent. Mould his body to body, meld his soul to your soul. Even then, he would never be able to feel you as closely as he craved.

“You want me to tell you what places my mind has wandered to?” His eyes were glued to your mouth, watching as your tongue slid out to wet your lips before tugging the bottom one between your teeth.

It was with a surge of complete arousal and haziness that had you uttering, “I want you to show me.”

Azriel’s lips were on yours not a moment later when he surged forward to trap your small frame beneath his large one on the loveseat. You could barely make sense of where you ended and Azriel began.

His scarred hands cupped your face, his tongue massaging hotly against your own. Your legs had wrapped around his waist, ankles locked across his back to keep him close to you.

It was unlike any kiss you’d experienced before. Passion and need and desire. Pure want and carnage. Like nothing could ever stop him from tasting you again. Like he was savouring every single piece of you.

“If you want me to show you…” he muttered against your lips, “I suggest you let me take you inside.”

You pulled away just enough for your noses to bump and make out a blurry picture of him before you. Swollen lips, mussed up hair that you hadn’t realised you’d been running your fingers through.

“Worried someone might see?” You panted in a teasing tone.

His eyes shadowed impossibly darker. “I don’t like to share.”

Squirming beneath his thick body, your fingernails scraped across his broad shoulders, scratching at the cotton of his t-shirt. “It’s not sharing if they’re just watching.”

Azriel nipped your bottom lip. “Well, I’m a greedy man, and I don’t want anyone else watching you come on my cock but me.”

A breathless moan tumbled off your tongue like hot honey, your eyes fluttering closed at the words he spoke. You hoped this was just the tip of the iceberg with him. Prayed that he was as filthy as he was gorgeous.

Without another second to get lost in your thoughts, Azriel was gripping your hips, lifting you as he stood. Your legs around his waist tightened as your arms snaked to circle his neck.

Even in the dark, he moved swiftly, settling your body onto your mattress without missing a beat. He crawled back between your thighs, the moonlight kissing his tanned skin through the cracks of your window.

His lips were on yours again, searing and eager. Azriel poured every ounce of need and desire into it, massaging your tongue and licking against the roof of your mouth. He tasted like the cookies you’d baked, a hint of smoke and a tang of bud.

It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

Your fingers tugged at the curled tendrils on the nape of his neck, ushering him impossibly closer. His body flattened atop yours, the grooves of his abs pressing deliciously against your stomach and chest.

Gods, he was solid. Built like a fucking Greek God and your fingers itched to trace the delicate intricacies of his golden skin.

“Azriel,” you panted against his lips. “If you don’t touch me right now I’m going to burst into flames.”

A dry chuckle left his throat as he dragged his mouth across your jaw and down to your neck; kissing and licking and sucking. He nipped at a sensitive spot, begrudgingly tugging himself off your frame.

Sitting on his knees between your open thighs, he was a fucking sight. His chest heaved as he took a breath, his eyes dark and hair an unruly mess. Excitement was getting the better of you. So much so that when his scarred fingers looped in the neck of his shirt and tugged it up, you all but foamed at the fucking mouth.

An unexplainable sound squeaked from the back of your throat. He was fucking beautiful. His skin was flawless, abdomen toned with divots of muscle, and dark ink of swirls that adored his chest.

You could physically feel your arousal seep from your cunt, could feel your clit throb in desperate need for him. You could hardly breathe, your lungs almost crushed by his sheer beauty.

You could stare at him forever.

“Are you going to be good for me?” His rugged voice broke you from your trance. You blinked at him. Once, twice.

Gone was the flirtatious Azriel who once made you blush from teasing. Gone was the light warmth in his smile and cheeky glimmer in his eyes.

The Azriel before you was cold now. Calculated. He oozed power and dominance and your pussy clenched in anticipation of the pleasure he might inflict on you.

The Azriel before you held all the control. And you’d gladly surrender whatever you had left to offer.

“Yes,” you whimpered in response.

He didn’t reply. Not with words. Azriel’s large palms flattened on your inner thighs as he pried your legs further apart. The calluses of his marred fingers scratched at your silky skin as they inched closer and closer to your core.

His fingertips grazed at the soaked fabric of your panties. “Look at you, pretty girl.”

Your lashes fluttered closed, lips parted open, head rolled back. Gods, you wanted his voice on a loop in your brain for the rest of eternity. If he was going to continue talking, you wouldn’t last long.

“Look at your dripping little cunt.”

You couldn’t hold in the whimper, nor the way you clenched on nothing—so desperate to be filled by him.

“I’m going to take my time with you.” You knew it wasn’t a threat, but Christ did it sound like one. You were far too pent up to be touched in any way that wasn’t with a cock buried deep inside you.

Foreplay could come next time, you’d let him spend hours devouring you if that was what he truly wanted. Not now, not when you were borderline going to sob.

“Fuck me, Az.”

He stilled, eyes on you as his hands halted on your inner thighs. “Please,” you whimpered, “I need you to fuck me. You can do what you want to me next time.”

Azriel cocked a brow, the familiar hint of him returning to his face for a brief moment. “You promise?”

Neither of you allowed yourselves longer than a few brief moments to bask in the vow of a next time. Not when he ghosted his fingers across your cunt and you nodded your head quickly, desperately.

“There’s condoms in the drawer.” Your words came out a breathless pant as Azriel’s toned body leaned over yours. He rifled through your nightstand, blindly reaching for a foil packet when his fingers grazed against something else. Something silicone.

His eyes found yours in the night, a mischievous glint that darkened his honeyed hazel iris’. Your lips parted. “What?”

From your angle, you couldn’t see what he held in his hands. Not until Azriel leaned back on his knees between your parted thighs, and the moonlight bounced off the hot pink toy in his palm.

Oh, fuck.

Without breaking your gaze, Az gently stroked the tip of the six inch object against your panty-covered cunt. You were soaking through the fabric, your thighs trembling on either side of his legs.

There was no way this was happening. No way he was going to–

“I think I wanna fuck you with this instead.”

You couldn’t argue with him, couldn’t even muster a single word to leave your lips. No one had used a sex toy on you before, much less a fucking dildo. And yet here Azriel was, eager to please you in the dirtiest ways possible. Even if it denied him his own pleasure.

“Az—“

He held his free hand in the air.

“Let’s call it a compromise.” His tone suggested there was no room for argument. You clamped your lips shut and continued to take deep, ragged breaths through your nose.

“If you’re a good girl with this toy, I’ll reward you with my cock later.”

Later. As in, he wasn’t planning on making you come just once…

You nodded once more, vigorously.

If it was down to Azriel he would’ve tied you up and taken his time with you anyway. He would’ve told you not to be a spoiled brat and to take whatever he gave you like a good girl.

But he couldn’t do that, not yet.

He couldn’t deprive you of the one thing you desperately wanted. But he could take away the thing to cause the most pleasure. Replace his cock with a toy. Watch you come all over it. And then ruin you until you creamed all over him and sobbed from overstimulating.

Azriel’s cock leapt in the tight confinements of his pants. He was desperate to free himself, touch himself. Have you touch him. He’d imagined the feeling of your lips around his dick for days, let his mind wander to what you’d look like on your knees for him.

He needed to be patient, he’d be able to stuff your throat full soon enough. He was sure of it. Then he’d let you sit on his tongue and suffocate him until you were both seeing stars.

“Please, baby.”

Your pleading voice broke him from his trance and Azriel wrapped two fingers around your panties and pulled them to the side, baring yourself to him.

And what a sight you were.

Swollen and soaked. Your pussy glistened under the moonlight, your hips rolling lazily as if trying to chase the touches he wouldn’t grant you. Az wanted nothing more than to bury his face in your warmth and stay there all fucking night.

But he didn’t touch you, at least not with his own body and skin. Azriel motioned the toy to your heat, teasingly sliding through your slick folds to collect your arousal. You jolted at the sensation, shuddering beneath his touch.

Azriel leaned over your body, one arm supporting his weight beside your head, the other coaxing the toy through your head, nudging the head against your pulsing clit.

“You’re gonna keep your eyes on me, and you’re gonna imagine it’s my cock fucking your tight little pussy.” Your chest arched into his, nipples pearled beneath the thin fabric of your t-shirt.

“Do you understand?” There he was again, that dominant and overpowering Azriel you saw just moments ago.

You nodded, lips blubbering slightly. “Yes.”

He cooed you softly, his head dipping down enough to brush his nose against yours. Azriel lined the dildo to your entrance, teasing your hole deliciously before gently pushing through your tightness.

Your lips parted, brows knit as your body grew taut. His honey gaze dripped into yours, melding you to him as Azriel rolled his hips to mirror what he would do if he was the one fucking you.

“Such a good girl, taking that cock.”

Your eyes fluttered closed at his praise, head rolling back into the pillow until his weight shifted above you and a briefly sharp sting met the side of your cheek. Your eyes flew open again, wide and confused.

Azriel looked down at you, his hand now gripping either side of your cheeks, his gaze much darker than before.

“I told you to keep your pretty eyes on me.” And then he sheathed the toy deep in your cunt.

A shriek of pleasure tore through your throat, hands reaching for the warm skin of Azriel’s shoulders. Your nails dragged across the muscles that rippled beneath your touch, scratching at the surface with a cry.

“Fuck!”

Azriel began with slow thrusts, allowing you a few brief moments to accumulate to the intrusion. Not much time, but enough. Because after the fourth thrust, he picked up the pace.

The noises were obscene, your high pitched cries and moans and the squelching of the toy that fucked your sopping cunt.

Everything was too intense to comprehend. The fullness you felt, the lack of control you possessed. And the way his eyes bore into yours, as though he was claiming your soul to melt with his own. He was hauntingly beautiful, even in his dark demeanour.

In your hazy state, it looked like even the shadows curled around his figure. As though he was their master, too.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he praised. “Taking that cock like a good little girl.”

His voice dripped with sex and arousal, and when he shifted his hips once more, you could feel the thick and solid bulge of his length in his trousers. You wanted nothing more than to feel it, taste it.

You clamped tightly around the toy, dragging scratches and marks down Azriel’s golden skin. “Please let me come.” You had never begged to come before, had never even asked. But you felt no shame in pleading to the God above you for your release.

You’d give him anything he wanted.

Azriel’s own breath grew shaky, unready. “Open your mouth,” he commanded. You listened and complied immediately, eager to please him.

He leaned closer, pinching your face harder before spitting into your mouth, onto your awaiting tongue. Then he was kissing you, biting you, claiming you.

Your entire body felt like it burst into flames, hot fire licking at you from the inside out. You couldn’t breathe. Your entire being completely locked and consumed as you came around the toy with a frantic sob of his name.

Azriel couldn’t cope, couldn’t handle the sound of his name on your lips as you came around something that wasn’t him. Every ounce of self control was crumbling down at the sight of you—of your eyes still fixed on his, your jaw slack and your supple body arching to meet his.

He’d never seen anything so fucking sinful yet heavenly at the same time. Never felt so connected to someone without even touching them. He couldn’t take it, needed to touch you, feel you, taste you.

Az pulled the toy from your pussy, dragging it up between your bodies as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. He held it to your mouth, and without command, your tongue swirled around the length of it, tasting your own release with your eyes still boring into his soul.

And now he had an even more vivid image of what you’d look like sucking his cock.

Before Azriel could get a taste for himself, that cursed blaring of his phone broke through the heaving silence. He didn’t hear it at first, not until it stole your attention from him.

“You’re phone,” you muttered breathlessly, barely coherent.

Azriel dropped the toy to the side of the bed, his hands gentle on your body and face now. “Ignore it,” he breathed softly.

His lips met yours in a taunting kiss, one so stark opposite to the way he’d treated you just moments ago. The versatility of this man was going to give you whiplash.

But the phone blared again. And again. And suddenly, neither of you could ignore it anymore. His forehead rested against yours, a frustrated sigh tumbling off his lips.

“You should go.”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to.

“You don’t wanna come with me? Do some drop-offs?” He was tempting you, desperately wanting to spend more time in your presence, especially if it potentially ended like this again.

You hummed, considering it. But your body was spent and the idea of being in his car and not being able to have your hands all over him at any moment you pleased sounded like torture.

“Next time?” You posed it as a question, though the hope in Azriel’s eyes proved that he was more than happy to not only fuck you again, but to spend time with you, too.

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

He nosed at your cheek, planting a teasing open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, nosing back up to your ear. “You look fucking breathtaking when you come.”

Your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled away, your thighs trembling as he knelt and then clambered off your bed. Azriel watched your spent body for a moment, the way your thighs rubbed together as you squirmed, no doubt still horny.

It pained him to leave you like that, wanting more. But if he didn’t leave now, he likely never would. And that wasn’t something he could afford to do right now.

So without another word, he bent down to press a kiss to your mouth, and then he left—still high on both the drugs and you.

Thank you for reading and I apologise again for such a massively long wait for this chapter!!

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pynkfairyheart · 4 months

Text

pairings: piercer!eren x reader

warnings: smuuuttt 18+, eren is the president of the subby men club, pegging ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶꒱ྀི১

a/n: I'm nervy to put this out omggg

pt.2 to Good girl but ofc can be read as a standalone

Boss

You heard him before you could see him. The slam of the front door, throw of his keys and heavy sigh alerting you he wasn't in the best mood.

“Baby?” You peeked your head out before walking into the living room, where he sat with his hands over his face, fingers separating wide enough to look at you before he put his arms out.

A telltale sign he had a bad day. Eren was usually the energetic one of your pair, always coming home with a smile on his face before he made you take a break from whatever it was you were doing to ramble on about his day, and happily listen about yours.

However, on bad days he just wanted to be held, quiet for the night as you whispered affirmations in his ear.

“Wanna talk?” Your hands cradled his face as he pulled you close.

“Today was annoying. We had two shipments come in, and of course one of them was wrong. Then one of Mikasa’s clients was being a perv and when I tried to handle it the asshole swung at me, so of course I had to beat his ass, and call the cops. Their asses didn't even help because they tried to accuse me of selling drugs out of the shop. Shit was a fucking mess.” He groaned. Crescent indents formed on your hips as his grip tightened.

“I'm sorry, pa” Your plump lips littered slow soft kisses on his.

“Anything I can do to make your day better?” The tension in his shoulders dissolving as you massaged them.

“Just you- fuck just you being here is perfect, baby” He groaned as your hands traveled down to his biceps, the tension high in his muscles.

He leaned back into the couch, eyes shut as you worked your magic. His body had finally started to relax after the events of the day when he felt you get off of him.

“Where are you-” He opened his eyes, pausing when he saw you down on your knees in front of him, fingers hooked around the waistband of his sweats.

“Y-you don't have to baby. It's okay” He let out a shaky breath.

“I want to. All you have to do is relax. You've been the boss all day. Let me have my turn.” Your thumb grazed the growing bulge under his sweats before pulling both his boxers and pants down in one swift motion.

“Ahh” He whimpered, low eyes watching as you stroked his length a few times before your lips parted, kissing his tip as your tongue swiped up the precum.

“Baby, please” He whined, hips bucking as you swirled your tongue around his frenum piercing.

As badly as you wanted to tease him till he cried, you knew he was due for a break. Allowing your gathered saliva to slide onto his length as you shined his dick, fingers wrapped tightly around his base as you slowly took him in your mouth, getting halfway before letting your hands do the rest as you bobbed your head.

His chest heaving as you took more every time your head came up to lick along his slit.

He was needy. You could tell by the soft whimpers he tried so hard to contain whenever you took him out of your mouth to suck on his balls, tongue circling his ass for a quick second before coming back up to wrap your mouth around him.

“D-don't stop, mommy” He whined as you widened his legs, thumb applying pressure to his aching hole as you took him fully into your mouth.

You couldn't tell if it was the blowjob, the pressure to his puckered hole, or the mixture of the two as he cried and whimpered, thighs tensing as his dick jumped in your mouth, salty cum filling your mouth.

Letting him slide from your mouth with a pop, you kissed along the underside of his dick, tounge running over his veins as you stroked the last few drops of cum from him.

“What do you want baby?” You coaxed him, looking up into his needy eyes while rubbing soothing shapes into his thighs.

“Need you to fuck me, mommy, please” He whined, slowly pumping his dick with a tight grip.

He eagerly followed you to your shared bedroom, patiently spread out on the bed while you fished out your favorite pink confetti strap and a bottle of lube from your closet.

You couldn't help but smile down at him as you situated yourself between his legs. It took weeks of begging him to at least think about allowing you to do this, finally caving when he felt your tongue accidentally graze over his ass one night while giving him head.

Nothing would ever top him fucking you from behind when it came to your sexual encounters but having him needy and whiny under you as he begged you to go faster definitely came second.

Apologizing for the cool sensation of the lube you prepped him, basking in the way his standing dick twitched when your thumb slid in. After coaxing a second orgasm from him just from foreplay you squeezed a large amount of the gooey substance onto the dildo, coating the object before slowly easing into him.

You took care to tease him with slow, deliberate strokes, your fingers tightly wrapped around the base of his dick as you stroked him with the same pace of your thrust. Green eyes staring up at you as he moaned for more.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.” You murmured, watching him squirm.

“Feels- fuck feels so good, mommy” He whimpered, abs tensing as your fingers ghosted over his tip.

“Yeah?” You smirked, free hand gliding up his abs to pinch his tiny pink buds as you increased your pace. His grip tightening on the sheets as he panted your name.

“H-harder, please” He moaned, trembling under you.

Who were you to deny your boy? Changing positions you gave him exactly what he asked. A hand wrapped around his dick as your hips ricochet off of his cheeks. Your name left his lips in whiny muffled cries as he arched back into you. The sound of wet slaps echoed through the room as he cried from pleasure.

“C-can't hold it anymore, mommy” You already knew he was close, his dick twitching with every thrust and stroke.

“I know, baby, let go” Your fingers wrapped tightly around his base, thumb circling his sensitive tip.

“Fuck- nghh” He became a moaning mess, cum spurting on your hands and the sheets as you milked him dry.

Slowly retracting from him, you licked your fingers clean, kissing up his back as you whispered I love you's and praises, before helping him clean up and change the sheets.

With a smile on your face, you climbed into bed next to him.

“Feel better?” You pecked his lips, giggling at the slap earned on your ass, as he deepened the kiss. He truly just needed his frustration fucked out of him to get back to his usual self.

“Almost” He smirked.

“Almost? And what would make you better than this?” You asked, confused by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Sit on my face?”

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backwzzds · 8 months

Note

Plug!Zoro x Black Reader. It’s literally 4 am right now and I cannot get him off my mind like just imagine him pulling up and his dark green hellcat for a late night drop but really he’s trying to give you more than just weed 😵‍💫

i never even thought of plug!zoro omg…cuz u onto sum!

like literally i can imagine zoro being that chilled n laid back typa plug. unlike eren or even connie, not a lot of people even know that he sells. he’s the type of plug that has like a set list of customers, and the only way you could cop from him is if one of his already-customers vouched for you to him.

it’s not that he’s scared of getting caught or anything, zoro can give less than a shit about that. but he just didn’t like having his business out there like that. in addition, he didn’t even mean to become a trustworthy ‘plug’ in the first place when his dumb ass accidentally ended up growing some fire ass weed one night. this is purely a hobby for him, one he just happens to make mad bread from!

you on the other hand would be on zoro’s client list through his close friend robin. you forgot how you even got close with him, but that’s how long you’ve known zoro. you could hit him up at any time at night and best believe that blacked out, tinted, emarald green scat pack would be parked outside your house within the half hour.

you couldn’t help but open the door for zoro before he even had the chance to walk in like he usually found himself doing. there was some sexual tension there, you both knew that. but you knew yourself well enough to know that if you gave yourself to zoro, you were never getting your soul back.

“hey mama.”

“man, bout time you got my shit.” the drug dealer gives you a lopsided grin before briefly smiling, flashing you the shiny gold of his canine grill piece. zoro holds up a back and smirks at you. this man would be so fine with the way he’d pat your ass the moment you turned around to let him inside the house.

with a little jump from his grip on you, you playfully roll your eyes at him before taking a seat on the couch. with a small joke, you tease, “31 minutes to get here, that mean my bud free?”

“tch,” the man gives you a quick suck of his teeth as he rests his gun on your coffee table before grabbing your rolling tray and pouring bud on it. “you always get this shit for free, don’t even play with me.” you giggle and throw your feet on his lap underneath the tray as you watch him roll up for the night. “we testing six tonight?”

“are you trying to kill me?” you gasp.

“nah, not when i can do something else,” zoro teased, not even looking in your eyes as he started to seal the first blunt with his saliva. but he doesn’t miss the way your brown cheeks flush a deep red and you look away from his pretty face. he chuckles at your nervousness around him. you were so cute.

six said blunts in, and you were both gone. here you were, perched nearly in zoro’s lap as you yapped his ear off.

“nah, cuz i see the way you be lookin’ at her,” you teased, recalling the memory of some mutual friend of yours, flirting with zoro.

“yeah, so?” zoro teased. “she’s annoying as shit. don’t want her.”

you gasp loudly before giggling. “zee! that’s so mean!”

zoro chuckled, “i didn’t say anything wrong. besides, i got someone else being a pain in my ass right now. i’m good with that,” his voice drops an ovtave as he shoves his face in the crook of your neck. your hand can’t help but fly to his green hair and run your fingers through it.

“damn, imma pain in your ass huh?”

“fine as fuck too,” zoro muttuers, kissing along your neck. “you gonna let me give you sum’n besides bud tonight?”

your breath falters as you feel zoro move his kisses as his hands traveled all over your body. his large hands find their way underneath your pajama shirt and they grip at the fat of your tit, possessively squeezing the flesh in his hand. “yeah? what?”

“could give you dick or head. your pick, mama.” between your legs nearly tingle at his reserved nickname for you. soon after, zoro’s kisses trail across your face as he’s pecking all over your lips. “‘m stayin’ the night either way though.”

you can’t help but test your influence over the plug by teasing him. “ion know, you me playing round. how i know you don’t just wanna fuck me and dip?”

zoro rolls his eyes and slowly shoves his hands down your pajama shorts, finding your already wet heat. with a lopsided smirk, he looks at you malevolently. “yeah, i think you’d like it if i stayed tonight too.”

“nah i don’t think my nigga’ll like that,” you tease, just pulling his leg. at the sight of his glock laid out against your coffee table, you add, “he got a gun you know. like to shoot people. like real scary shit.”

zoro can’t help but smile into your skin as he pulled you into him. “he sure do.”

“oooh, fuck!” you’re damn near struggling to breath as zoro has you split against his cock. “you’re reaching so deep, daddy.”

“yeah, daddy reaching deep in that little pussy baby?” zoro teased as he gave you long and deep strokes. “tell him how much you like that shit mama.”

“so much, daddy. like it so much,” you cried, holding the back of your knees up as far as you could. “gonna cum soon.”

“i know baby, i know,” zoro mutters as he thumbs circles against your puffy clit. “gonna show you that this pussy’s all mine. ‘s all mine right? no one else’s?”

you’re breathing hard as you watch the site of where you two connect. “all yours, zee.” a white ring soon forms against the brownish base of zoro’s cock, highlighting the mix of both your arousals.

eventually, you begin to feel overstimulation peak your adrenaline, so out of instinct, you can’t help but rest your small hands on zoro’s pelvis not exactly pushing him away, but instead trying to relieve the own pressure between your legs.

“man move your hand,” zoro kissed his teeth, but you were too fucked out to even listen.

“‘s too much!” you whined.

ignoring your pleas, zoro gravs both your legs and rests them on your shoulders, watching as the gold anklet he bought you dangle by his ears. “mama move your hand or imma move that shit for you, don’t play with me.”

immediately, you move your hand but let out a sharp cry when zoro grips your hips tight and begins to drill your shit with no mercy. “o-oh my go—“

“can’t help you now, pretty.” zoro gave you his million dollar smirk as he began to rub your nipples between his fingers. “fuck, ‘m almost there baby. gonna cum soon.”

“gonna cum soon daddy?” you whine, grabbing his hand. zoro uses his free own to wrap around your neck, lightly squeezing as he watched you effortlessly submit to him.

“mhm,” zoro hummed, feeling the familiar knot tie in his stomach. gosh, he loved fucking you in missionary like this. he loved looking in your eyes and watching all the love you had for him just flow right down to the juices of your waterpark pussy.

it was rare that a smoke session with him didn’t turn into this man fucking you an inch from pure insanity. zoro was crazy and he proved it each time he stroked his dick deep inside you and flooded you with all of him.

“damn girl, this pussy’s so fuckin’ good,” the drug dealer muttered to himself. “all fuckin’ kine. no one’s fuckin’ you like this but me, ya hear?”

you immediately nod your head, finally feeling yourself cum against him. “i’m coming zee! i’m coming i’m com—!” your screams are cut short as your legs shook around zoro’s shoulders

“might be a little selfish and might just put a baby in you,” zoro smirked down at you. “you’d want that pretty? want me to fill you up and make you a mama?”

“yes,” you whined, feeling your energy slowly drain as you continued to cream against him and the sheets. “please come in me, zoro!”

“sure you want it baby? gotta use your words mama.” zoro bites down on his lip as he tries to hold himself back from drilling into you like a madman.

“mhm, yes zee! cum in me please!”

the greenhead takes a deep breath as he feels his dick twitch inside your warm gummy walls. with the green light, he uses the last inch of stamina left in him to completely wreck you. “fucking hell, that’s it, mama. that’s it. just like that. milk me for all i fucking got—fuck!”

you’re left breathless as zoro fills you up and then some, his cum dripping out of your gaping hole and onto the sheets below you. with a collapse beside you, the plug pulls you into his chest and places chaste kisses all along your face.

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐#plug!zoro #plug zoro #plug zoro x black reader #plug zoro x reader #plug zoro x chubby reader #roronoa zoro x black reader #zoro x black reader #roronoa zoro x chubby reader #zoro x chubby reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x black reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece x chubby reader #one piece zoro #zoro one piece #roronoa zoro smut #zoro smut

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ariestrxsh · 2 months

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⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, oral, praise, daddy kink, semi-public, risky, drugdealer!chris, enemies to lovers

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You start rebelling against your cop dad, and who better to be your partner in crime than Chris Sturniolo, the local drug dealer your dad busted last year and told you to stay away from.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧˚ ⋅₊ ⊹🍒⭒⋆

"You look a little out of place here," a familiar voice from behind me broke through the sound of the loud music and startled me, causing me to nearly drop my red solo cup. I whipped around to see who it was. Chris Sturniolo. My dad had warned me about him. He'd busted Chris for selling weed last year, but of course, he didn't learn his lesson and was still just as much of a scumbag as ever.

"What do you want, Chris?" I rolled my eyes after subtly looking him up and down. He looked really fucking good. He was in a black tanktop, a grey flannel, grey sweatpants, and a backward black hat. He held a blunt loosely between his lips as he smiled at me. "What I'd really like is to get out of here and smoke this with you," he said, taking the unlit blunt out of his mouth and holding it out to me.

"You know my dad would kill me if I smoked weed, but he'd kill me twice if I smoked weed with you," I scoffed. "He doesn't have to find out, sweetheart. Plus, he'd be pissed that you were at this party to begin with. Why stop pissing him off now?" Chris responded, smirking at me.

I was going through a bit of a rebellious phase. Growing up with a cop father, there were a lot of things I couldn't participate in as a high school student without being worried he'd play detective and find out or something. But I was finally starting to branch out and test the water a little bit when it came to boys and drinking. After all, I was 19 with nearly no experience. Why not weed, too?

"I've never smoked before," I told him. "I know. I'd love to be the one to pop your cherry," Chris devilishly grinned at me. I rolled my eyes at him and smoothed out the wrinkles in my dress. "Listen, I know you're trying to rebel against your dad. This is your first party. This is probably your first alcoholic drink," Chris said, pointing to the cup in my hand, and he was right, "and I'd love to help you rebel a little bit."

"What's in it for you?" I glared at him. "Revenge on your dad for busting me last year. Corrupting his little girl would be my pleasure," Chris leaned in and whispered to me. His lips brushed against my ear lobe, sending shivers down my spine.

I thought about it for a second. I'd always hated Chris, and I was still weary of him, because my dad had warned me about him, and had pretty much forbade me from ever making friends with him, even though he wasn't my type of people. But I was a little morbidly curious about him. "Fine," I agreed, and he extended his hand out to me, and I took it.

He led me through the crowd and out the back door, our shoes crumpling the dead leaves beaneath us. There was a spot on the side of the house that was tucked away behind a tree that Chris brought me to. We both leaned up against the house, looked up at the starry night sky, and were glad to get away from all the noise and people.

The autumn breeze kicked up as Chris attempted to spark up the blunt. "Here. Help me? Hold your hands out like this," Chris showed me, and I made a little cave with my palms to shield the lighter from the wind. The fire from the lighter was warm, especially compared to the cool outside air.

He took a few hits and then passed it to me. "Now, just take one hit. This is your first time, so you don't wanna overdo it," he said in a low raspy voice, "and make sure that when you inhale, you inhale into your lungs, not just into your mouth before blowing it out."

I held the blunt up to my lips, and as I sucked, the cherry on the end made a faint crackling sound. The smoke felt warm and thick in my lungs. "Hold it, hold it. Okay, now you can exhale. Good girl," Chris whispered, and as I blew out the smoke, I coughed hard, and I wasn't sure if it was from the smoke or if it was from when I gasped when Chris called me that.

"Just sit tight for like ten minutes, and if you don't feel anything, I'll let you have another hit, okay?" Chris said, rubbing my cheek. "Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked him, giving him a skeptical look. "Because I was once in your shoes, experimenting with drugs for the first time, and there was no one looking out for me, but I wish there were," he answered, taking another puff and blowing it in the opposite direction as I was standing. "I have a question for you now," he stated, glancing at me with his beautiful, bloodshot blue eyes, "why do you dislike me?"

"Chris, you're a drug dealer. My dad has warned me about you. You're a dangerous man," I told him, looking down at my shoes. "I promise I'm not dangerous. You don't know me, and your pig dad doesn't know me. Yeah, so I sell weed. That's one very small part of who I am," Chris replied, with a genuine hurt in his voice.

I could relate to his dismay in being judged by someone who doesn't even really know you. After all, having a dad who was a cop and being the odd one out when it came to experience with boys and drugs came with a lot of judgment as well.

"I'm sorry. I guess I don't know you," I responded in a shaky voice. "That's alright. After all, judgments aren't all bad. It's your judgment that tells you not to walk into a lion's den," Chris responded, blowing a cloud of smoke above him, and I watched it dissipate into the night sky.

"I think I'm starting to feel it," I whispered, fixating on the way the smoke danced through the atmosphere with Chris' every exhale. I felt less uptight and less serious. "Does it feel good?" Chris smirked. "Yeah," I said, my eyelids growing heavy while I smiled over at him like an idiot.

"You look so pretty when you're high," Chris whispered, holding the lit tobacco leaf back up to his lips. "God, I wish I were that blunt," I whispered back, and Chris' eyes widened as he smiled in disbelief. "Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?" I asked, covering my mouth with my hand.

"Yeah, is that how you really feel?" Chris asked, winking at me. I blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm high. I was thinking, and I didn't mean to say that out loud. Are weed and alcohol supposed to make you horny?" I asked, glancing down into my nearly empty solo cup.

"It can have that effect sometimes," Chris teased me, offering me the blunt one more time. I accepted it, inhaling just like Chris told me and blowing the smoke out, but this time, because the blunt was so small, it slightly burnt my fingers and lips when I took a drag. I still coughed, but Chris rubbed my back.

"Did you mean that earlier? About wishing you were the blunt?" Chris poked fun at me while he took a last puff and put out the cherry on the bottom of his shoe. I innocently bit my lip and ignored his question.

Chris leaned in and kissed me. His lips were smooth and soft, and he tasted of weed and cherry chapstick. His tongue begged for entrance into my mouth, and I allowed it. His kiss was gentle but powerful, and his hands immediately started wandering my body. I'd made out with boys before and even been touched by them before, but the way Chris' fingers danced across my neckline and down to my waist made me think we might go further than I ever had before.

Chris' hand traveled down to my thighs, and he pushed up the hem of my dress and started rubbing the front of my panties. "Oh my, look at you getting all wet. Is that because of me?" He asked, looking into my eyes. "Mhmmm," I moaned while he held my neck with one hand and slid his other down the front of my underwear. I gasped as he made direct contact with my clit and started gently toying with it.

"Has anyone ever kissed you here before?" He asked while he rubbed it. I looked up at him and shook my head, a little embarrassed. "Well, then, you're gonna love this," Chris whispered to me before he descended to his knees in front of me. He helped me out of my panties, one leg at a time, and he looked up into my eyes while he brought his mouth closer to my pussy.

As soon as he started twirling his tongue over my sensitive nerves in small, concentrated circles, moans started streaming from my lips. "Do you like it when I go slow like this?" He asked, moving his tongue in long, slow licks over it. "Or do you like this better?" He asked, while he sped up the pace and started fiddling my clit with his tongue faster than I thought anyone could ever move their tongue before. My knees grew weak, and I could barely think.

"Just like that," I whimpered while I entangled my fingers with his locks of hair. "Yes, daddy," I squealed. Why did I just call him that? I was so embarrassed, but he didn't stop or shame me. Instead, he started moaning against me, sending vibrations through my body. Maybe he liked that I had called him that.

"Oh, daddy, you lick me so good," I quietly cried out. "Mmmm, good girl. Cum on daddy's tongue, princess," Chris teased me as I swiveled my hips in circles against his gorgeous mouth. I couldn't take it anymore. Chris' words, his tongue, his eyes piercing my soul, the built up sexual repression, it all sent me over the edge.

I could barely stand, but thanks to the wall behind me and the way Chris was holding me up, I was able to let my body fall limp and relax into my orgasm. What a sweet release. The first orgasm that anybody had ever given me besides myself. And it was better too. Chris stood up after he lapped up my mess and leaned beside me back up against the wall, grinning at me.

"I wonder what your daddy would think if he knew you were drinking and smoking with me, calling me daddy while I eat your pussy."

taglist: @ariithereyet @bsturnzmtt @sofieeeeex @ribread03 @fratbrochrisgf @strnlxlqve (if I forgot to tag you, i'm sorry! if you wanna be added to the taglist, let me know!)

#chris sturniolo fic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fic #christopher sturniolo

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beatrixstonehill2 · 10 months

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"I think my boss really likes me, guys..... Look at these massive tits. I feel so gross having boobs so big. People look at me like a perv just for having them. Women ask me every day if I consider getting a reduction, telling me how ridiculous they look. Men constantly ask me if I do porn and play with them without asking.... I don't really mind, I guess. It's kind of fun getting groped in public, in a naughty way. Maybe I should do porn? I bet my boss would love that.....

So, I started my new job as a waitress at this fancy restaurant connected to a hotel by the waterfront. One day I mentioned to my boss that I'm not getting great tips, I was blaming the rich people for being stingy..... He laughed and handed me a bottle of pills. He said to take two a day, and I'll get way better tips. I thought they were uppers or something..... The bottle is unlabeled but I looked up the pills. They're a fertility drug that greatly increases breast size and libido. Everyone that takes it says the effect on libido clouds judgment and makes anything pleasurable feel so good you don't want to stop..... I can safely say that part is true.

I went from almost flat-chested, hating to flirt with customers or random guys, to having these.... giant things, and constantly wanting attention and sex. I rub up on guys, I flirt, I bounce my breasts for customers, I even flirt with other girls.... I get amazing tips, and even end up selling my body to a lot of clients. They ask me to join them in their hotel rooms. They take one look at my body now and assume I'm a whore, so I happily validate their assumptions..... I fuck so many men, even outside, in restrooms, in their cars in random parking lots....

Sometimes we get found out and the men never get in trouble. The cops handcuff me and roughly push me against their squad cars. I usually just have to get passed around by the precinct for a couple hours, then I'm on my way.... Fuck, I used to be such a pure, smart, normal girl..... Now I'm a total trainwreck, but at least I have money. This libido just isn't doing me any favors. I just decided to throw out my birth control. Why? Because I 'want to see' how I'll look with a belly full of sextuplets or maybe even more. I don't want to be a mom, I just want a giant mountain of a belly full of kids. God I'm turning into such an idiot, I love it soooo much. ❤️"

#breast expansion #be #enormous breasts #breast growth kink

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thehighladywrites · 4 months

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lowered inhibitions.

pairing: plug azriel x reader

summary: Your cousins Eris and Lucien throw a party celebrating their father’s death. All of their close allies and friends show up. You meet Azriel, the hot, stranger who offers you a test of his personal stash. Of course he helps you smoke it too.

warnings: 18+, smut, fucking literally everywhere, tension, weed, smoking, drugs, weapons, criminal underworld, it’s all very cool, everyone is dabbling in some sort of illegal activity, weapons dealers, drug dealers, azriel becoming hypnotized by you

amara’s note: part one to the dealer diaries, pls lovelies don’t mind this omg

next episode! — cop cassian arrests you for selling drugs, so you seduce him into letting you go

series masterlist

Azriel is one of the top plugs in Prythian, always at every party, lounging on the couch with his legs spread, a blunt held between his thumb and pointer fingers.

Customers always hang around him, casually buying bags of weed and pills from him at every event.

Tonight, the Vanserra brothers have decided to throw a massive party celebrating their father's passing and the brothers taking over the business—it was definitely a cause for celebration.

The entire city was invited, so that's how Azriel finds himself in the corner of their penthouse, surrounded by his friends and allies. A table adorned with pills, weed, and alcohol— some from Azriel's inventory, some from Rhysand’s — stood prominently, ready to fuel the night's festivities.

Tonight’s party have made Azriel sell a ton of product, raking in well over his regular profit. He feels tempted to leave, considering he has tripled what he usually earns in just a single night. And as one of the most successful plugs in the city, Azriel makes serious money.

At last, he decides to stay a few more minutes, perhaps to scan the place for more potential clients. His eyes are bloodshot and low-lidded as they lazily scan the room before landing on you.

His eyes widen fractionally as he takes you in, dressed in a pretty little skirt and top. Without a doubt, you are the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. As you smoke with Feyre, he can't help but wonder about you, since he haven't seen you before—surely he would have noticed you.

“Yo, why are you staring at my cousin like that?” Lucien's questioning voice pulls Azriel out of his trance. He takes a drag from his blunt, inhaling deeply as he watch you hit a dab pen, before finally tearing his gaze away to look at Lucien.

“You're dreaming,” he says, trying to appear unaffected by the tiny bit of information he receive.

Cassian and Rhys exchange knowing glances with Lucien and Eris, all four males on the verge of bursting into laughter at Azriel's useless attempt to appear unbothered.

“Yeah, right. You're undressing her with your sneaky eyes,” Cassian tease, snatching the blunt from Azriel's fingers, inhaling and doing tricks.

Azriel narrows his eyes at him before snatching it back, taking one final drag before stubbing it out in the ashtray.

“I'm not doing anything, dickhead. I'm just looking for clients,” he retort, trying to play it cool.

Eris snorts, downing his glass of amber liquid. “Don’t go 'looking for clients' in my cousin. She’s very sweet, so if you're serious, try your luck. Otherwise, don’t,” Eris says, his tone growing serious.

Both he and Lucien are extremely fond of you, viewing you as a little sister, especially since your mother, their aunt, had passed away a few years ago.

—

A thick, yellow-tinted cloud of fog fills the room, your eyes low-lidded and bloodshot as you take a drag from the blunt, the aroma filling the air.

You are well aware of what your cousins do for a living, the illegal business they run, but you have always stayed out of it. For generations, your family have been in the weapons industry, illegally selling and distributing weapons to whomever paid the hefty sum.

Lucien and Eris make sure to keep that part out of your life, even though all of you know where the money came from.

You don’t care about any of it, and it is easy to evade guilt, especially since your friend Feyre and her family are also deeply involved in the criminal underworld of Prythian.

"Involved" is an understatement—the Vanserra’s, Feyre and Rhysand’s family, and five other families are the top 0.1% of the city, with their fingers in every business imaginable.t

To avoid raising suspicions, money still have to flow in legally. Casinos, nightclubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels are just a few of the ventures almost everyone in your circle own. It’s a delicate balance between legitimate businesses and the shadowy underworld they operate in.

You smile as you place the fat, neatly rolled blunt between your plump lips, taking another drag. The head glows orange, the paper dissolving into ash as you slowly inhale the smoke, giggling softly at Feyre’s horrible jokes. You inhale again, holding the smoke in your lungs before exhaling it slowly through your nose, enjoying the tranquil haze settling over you.

When you smoke, it's like slipping into a realm of carelessness, freedom, and pure relaxation. It's a sensation that washes over you, freeing your mind from the everyday life.

And you love that sinful feeling. You love it so much, that you can’t help but bring the blunt to your lips for another drag.

Sure it was unhealthy and very harmful, but damn it felt good.

“That’s your second blunt, you good?”

With a dramatic sigh, you meet her eyes, putting it out so you didn’t green out.

“I’m sad, Fey. Because my stash’s running low and my plug is a fucking asshole who has shitty prices for shitty weed. I need to find someone else.”

“I don’t know why you bother with this cheap shit, babe. If you need a new plug, I know a guy. Good prices, quality products. I swear one blunt is enough for me and Rhys to share. We always get ours from him; he’s a brother to us,” Feyre chimes in, her voice cheery.

You perk up at the possibility of finding a new source, intrigued by the promise of better quality. You staywith your current plug because you don’t have the heart to stop buying from him. Honestly, you’re loaded so you can afford amazing things but you still felt bad. But you were desperate now and as much as you liked your plug, you needed something new.

“He's actually here, he’s the one sitting next to Cassian and Eris. Want me to call him over?” Feyre asks, her voice filled with eagerness to help.

Following her gaze to the table where your cousins sit, your eyes lock with the guy, causing a flutter in your stomach. You trail your gaze over his built body, from top to toe. He is dressed in a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he has one rolled blunt behind his ear and another lit one between his lips., His low eyes are fixed on you with a smirk so small you almost miss it.

The best part about him are the tattoos decorating his neck, arms and hands. You give him a small smile before carefully turning back to Feyre, making sure he can’t read your lips.

“Okay, who is that, where the fuck did he come from? And why the fuck isn’t he on top of me right now?” you whisper urgently to Feyre.

Feyre bursts into laughter, throwing her head back as she slaps your arm playfully.

“That’s Azriel. He grew up with Cassian and Rhys and he’s very chill. And very single, wanna do something about that?” she smiles, looking between you two.

“Do i wanna— of course i do, Fey, hello? What a pretty man, holy fuck.”

You carefully look over your shoulder only to be met with him holding eye contact and standing up, your eyes going up as you follow his height.

Yeah, no way were you letting him slip away.

Feyre quickly whispers into you ear about how you better do something, a little good luck and a kiss on the cheek before she scurries away to Rhysand.

“Hi there.”

You smile as you greet him. “Hi.”

“Where did you get that?”Azriel's deep timber voice sends shivers down your spine as he nods to the blunt between your fingers.

“I bought it from my dealer. Why?” you smile a little as you bring it to your lips.

Azriel smiles right back. His eyes crinkle when he smiles, making him look impossibly more handsome.

“Nah, just lettin’ you know there’s better shit out there.” He reaches behind his ear and hands you a new, neatly rolled blunt.

“Come smoke this with me. If you don’t like it, I won’t bother you again. If you do, let me take you out for dinner,” he raises his eyebrows, a boyish smile on his face as he looks you up and down.

“Fair.”

The eye contact is intense. He looks at you hungrily, making your insides flip.

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

You tell him your name, blushing as he puts his arm on your shoulder, repeating it over and over, your name sounding almost forbidden.

—

“This is really strong,” you cough as you look up at him, handing the blunt back to Azriel.

He puts a hand on your back, rubbing up and down carefully. “You need some help?”

You nod, eyes filling with tears from the potent smoke. Azriel looks you in the eyes as he takes a tattooed hand and inhales the smoke, then lowers his head to yours. He puts his thumb on your chin, opening your mouth as he exhales the smoke into your mouth.

You feel your entire body relax at his touch, on instinct, you get closer and closer to him. The smoke doesn’t feel as intense this way but you still felt the effects.

You also feel like jumping on his dick this second. And Eris won’t mind that you’re using his guest bed right?

“You feeling good, pretty girl?”

“I feel really, really good,” you let out a sigh of content, turning your body to face him.

“You look good, ” you addwith lower inhibitions, watching him with a hazy gaze as you take in his deep breaths and flushed cheeks. His sweat-dampened skin glistened under the ambient light as his words rolls around your clouded mind.

“Yeah? How good do i look?”

—

Okay, it’s not really insane that you got high and fucked a stranger right? No, of course not. His stroke game is out of this world and he is really nice, so yeah, you gave him head! Then got bent, then got fucked missionary, then against Eris’s wall, then in Lucien’s bathroom, someone’s office and just about anywhere really. The party downstairs never seemed to end and neither did getting fucked either.

—

Your head rolls back as the effects of the drugs make you lightheaded and fuzzy. You’re slowly rolling your hips back and forth, grinding in Azriel’s lap. His warm, large hands grip your soft hips as he guides you.

“I need you in my life, i swear,” he whispers — or think he does. You blink down at him, putting your hands on his chest as you kiss him deeply, sucking and lightly biting his lip.

Azriel puts his arm around your waist, locking you in place as he kisses you back with need, tilting his head a little to the right to go deeper.

“I can’t believe I’ve never met you before. Let me take you out tomorrow night, please.”

“O-okay, that sounds good— oh, wait— fuckkk,” your breathless response turn into whines and broken moans as he thrusts, rocking your body forward as he fucks you from below.

Without hardship, he turns you over on the bed, his hand tracing the walley of your boobs. “Look at you, so beautiful.” Ariel languidly takes a handful of your breasts, tracing a finger on your hardened nipples.

You look up at his sincere eyes, feeling your cheeks heat at his intense gaze. Despite being high himself, there’s so much honesty in his eyes.

“I think you’re just high, Azriel,” you shy away from his hazel eyes, fighting the instinct to hide from him. You had never been looked at the way he looked at you and it was a bit nervrecking.

He chuckles, “High or not, i’m never wrong. Again, you’re a stunner.”

“Didn’t know you were such a sweet talker," you laugh playfully, but he is completely entranced by the way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks with each slow blink. He can’t help but be drawn in, his fingers instinctively tangling in your hair as he leans in to kiss you, utterly captivated by your presence.

Azriel continues to thrust, making your eyes roll. He is determined to make you cum on his cock for the umpteenth time this night. Your sweet noises of pleasure only spur him on, the way your hand find his makes his heart skip a beat aswell.

—

Even though neither of you have met before, it feels right waking up to wake up next to him. You wake up before him, feeling a headache on it’s way so you sneakily throw off the covers to head to the kitchen for some water and some ibuprofen, grabbing whatever item of clothes that is closest to you.

You spot Azriel’s white dress shirt, with the buttons popped off. Your face heats as you remember how hard you had ripped off his shirt.

The shirt is on the floor and you bend down to pick it up, when you do, something thuds to the floor. You turn back around to look down, curiosity piqued.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you see what had dropped to the floor. Hidden under his shirt and pants is a gun. A real-life, very dangerous, very dark, and very scary gun.

Upon closer inspection, you notice it’s one of your family's produced weapons—a very high-quality gun from an exclusive Vanserra collection from last year, relatively new.

Your family exclusively make those guns for the most dangerous, fierce, and powerful people in the world. Only a handful of people even know they exist. If he has one, then he is definitely one of the most important and dangerous men you have encountered.

Feyre did mention he dabbles in the drugs industry but you had expected that he maybe owned a block or two.

Just who on earth did you jump into bed with? And why were you not the least bit concerned about it?

🏷️: @redbleedingrose @readychilledwine @claireswritingcorner @cadiawrites @danikamariewrites @cupidojenphrodite @honeybeefae

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