#every time i see shit like that i roll my eyes so hard... such old guy personality-less talk
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
3416 · 9 months ago
Text
all the uncles hyping up max's media answer of "we don't care. we have our eye on one thing" from the other day when the journalists asked him if he thought auston should be in the selke conversation is so goofy and stupid and just perpetuating the whole 'nothing besides the stanley cup matters'. which i understand a lot of them have that approach esp with the media to get them off their backs, but also like.... max is the one out here constantly gagged on his social media over other ppls brand deals like LOL. it's all just big talk.
8 notes · View notes
reikunrei · 2 years ago
Text
tell me why it seems like 90% of byler shippers are the most smug, insufferable people i’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing on my dash. like can y’all be normal people LMAO
i’ve been following a smattering of general st fandom accounts that also post a lot about them for less than a week and i’m already like “damn i gotta fuckin go”
you’re telling me i survived 2013-2015 superwholock and free! shipping wars and i’m just right back in it in the year of our lord 2023? get a life LOL
#me seeing the 17th punching-down nickname for mileven: im seriously at my fucking limit#I DONT EVEN LIKE ONE SHIP MORE THAN THE  OTHER#WHO GIVE A SHIT!!! BE NNORMAL!!!#saw a post today that was like 'ppl who ship mileven should be scared#bc the st social accounts didnt even post anything abt them for vday teehee mileven shippers are so delusional'#and i rolled my eyes so hard they almost popped out of my head#this shit does not matter! why are u being so mean to these 14 year old characters LOL#mileven and byler are both good! why are you pitting 2 bad bitches against each other!#when will ppl learn that it's more fun to analyze all ships wwith a neutral-positive pov#rather than trying to explain how the analysis makes YOUR ship better#like seriously go get a hobby that makes you happy#rather than wasting time trying to convince ppl they shouldnt ship smthn bc you dont like it#'oh but el makes mike feel inferior so it's a bad duo' bro what#like i see where youre coming from but he's allso 14#and has the  potential to llearn to not feel that way bc el loves him#not my l key sticking every time i use it#anyway. yeah. it's annoying#time to go back to only following cool chill gifmakers#just. i dont think i'll ever understand the desire to focus only on ships#is it valid to analyze media and come away with intricate thoughts on rellationships? yes of course#but god. i just want general discussions about solo charas and the show as a whole#stranger things is a story about LOVE and not about ROMANCE#my aro/ace tendencies are flaring up :zany emoji:#i say things#ANYWAY. I HAVE TO. SHUT UP LOL
13 notes · View notes
st4rbwrry · 5 months ago
Text
𝒟𝑅𝐼𝐹𝒯𝐼𝒩’ 𝒩 𝒦𝐼𝒮𝒮𝐼𝒩’.
Tumblr media
✧。˚ eren’s over just being your best friend.
𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 8.7k fem!reader, lowercase intended, girly girl reader, friends who rlly like each other, smoking, drifting, fluffy scenes, eren is super soft for reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car festivities, kissing, neck biting, bits of roughness, multiple orgasms + overstimulation, choking, ass hits, cunnilingus, daddy kink, pet names ex. ꒰ baby, pretty, luv. ꒱ , praise, sub/dom, thicq!reader, goofy loving cutesy shit, minors do not interact! comments & reblogs are appreciated.
Tumblr media
"i'm outside."
why is that text always terrifying to receive? it's the quickest way to make your heart fall to your ass in milliseconds. you can't help but roll your eyes and suck your teeth because he's too early, or maybe you were too late. it's only nine thirty so you're confused why he's here already. dropping the puffy makeup brush in your hand, you stand up from your brightly lit royal vanity with intricate carvings in the pearl-toned wood. slipping your painted white toes into a pair of hot pink teddy bear slides to make your way out of your bedroom and towards the front door for this asshole. 
eren gets smacked in the face with your prettiness the minute you open your door, smelling like marshmallows and looking like a fucking bratz doll. your beauty stuns him every time. the six-foot-three man before you rests his weight against the wall on the outside, one arm stretched above as he leans over you with a wicked smile on his deadly gorgeous face. he's wearing a white graphic tee with pink graffiti spray painted on reading killer alongside a lavender nissan 350z. it's old merch connie was testing for his line. he also makes eren's shirts for his auto shop. 
eren's also attired in black slim jeans and beat up 550 new balances, his signature racing shoes. his silver chain on his neck dangling as he kisses your forehead, the move so slick. you've noticed he liked to touch you a lot, give little indications of affection. kissing your hand, your cheek, your face overall. he grabbed your ass a lot, and it's so excessive you have to give him a hard swat and a death glare to actually make him stop. 
"hello, eren," the way you say it has annoyance laced in it. turning away from him and walking away with that salacious sway your hips have. eren tongues his inner cheek, chuckling as he enters your home and shuts the door. he forgets how quick you walk, literally speed walking to your room since by the time he gets there you're already back on your powdered white tufted ottoman doing your makeup. riiverdance by beyoncé plays softly from the small speaker you kept on your windowsill so the music travels better. 
"damn, i can't get no kiss? you fussy with me already." eren remarks, looking below him to see the fluffy black cat brushing up against his leg, scooping her up with one hand and petting her as he takes a seat on your bed. 
"no. . aht aht! outside clothes, off the bed!" you're snapping your fingers at him as if he's your cat, eren swiftly raising his ass off your bed, blinking slow. 
"where am i supposed to sit, woman?" 
"the floor like always."
"tryna get cat hair on my shit," eren sucks his teeth, sinking down to the ground and groaning when your cat scrambles to get out of his hold, never liked being touched for long periods of time. 
"you literally decided to pick her up knowing you're wearing white. that's your fault." 
you were right but he couldn't resist holding her. that's his daughter. he's not giving you the satisfaction of being right though. manspreading, eren cocks his head to the side to watch you closely. you can see his entire reflection in your mirror, quickly glancing his way and ignoring the way he slowly licks his lips and knocks his legs in and out, unbeknownst to you, to chill his dick. 
"so fuckin' gorgeous," eren smiles, those bright white teeth making you wanna fold immediately. eren loved watching you do your makeup. eyes softening for you. he found it so mesmerizing. you surely didn't need it but it made you happy so it makes him happy. "you wearin' that white on your waterline like i like. that jus' f'me?"
you pucker your lips. "mhm, nah. i just like it. i do nothing for your gratification."
"ouch," eren holds his tatted hand to his chest, shock overcoming his features. "keep hurtin' my feelings like that 'n your ass won't have a ride tonight. or no food."
that last line alarms you more than anything. one thing you didn't play about, and he knows this especially. . . is your hunger. you honestly haven't eaten much all day. working a shift at the hospital and only having a salad on your break wasn't filling at all. you all talked in your group chat about how saturday's the perfect day to go drifting tonight and grab some chinese at your favorite restaurant in town. your check hadn't hit yet but eren being him since he likes you so damn much offered to pay for you. you declined, as usual, but he didn't give a fuck about what you said, you were coming either way. to be honest, he missed your little sweet ass. a lot. you've been working mostly overnight shifts, being a SPT wasn't for the weak. and he's been busy at the shop fixing and selling cars. your days apart, aside from texting and facetiming made him want to be in your presence. he felt complete with you. you had to know that.
"if you gonna play with me about my food then ima just head to bed right now and starve," you basically threaten him. eren hated when you don't eat enough, makes dumb jokes about how you'll 'lose those thick ass hips of yours.' the boy will make it his mission to grab you something quick. he's your food and weed dealer. also your personal chauffeur, absolutely loving when you're his passenger princess.
"don't be fuckin’ dramatic, brat. i'm playin'. you know i got you," he stands back to his feet to come by you, pressing his midsection to your backside, where you can also feel the outline of his dick, trying your best to ignore the way it makes your face heat up. teasingly, he starts sliding his warm hands over your shoulders and down to your waist. cautiously, you eye him, having a hot wave of panic hit you when he begins tickling your left side. your most sensitive side, mind you. you screech and twist your body into a curling position trying to escape his attack. 
"eren! get the fuck off me, bro!" he's laughing hard at your attempt to twist and yank away from his grasp, screeching and biting his arm which he flinches from and moves away. 
“oww, fuckin’ gremlin,” he hisses dramatically, as if you’d stabbed him. “next time smile when you see me at that fuckin' door. gimme a 'hey, daddy' with it, too. it'll make my dick jump."
"your dick jumps for me enough."
eren’s eyes meets yours in the reflection of your vanity mirror. he shrugs nonchalantly, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“well,” he begins, dragging the word out as he takes a step closer to you again. “you wanna see it?” 
you roll your eyes, his voice dropping lower, becoming more intense as he continues. “know you wanna see it again.” 
“says who?” you raise your brow, testing him. 
by again, he means accidentally when he was showering at your place and forgot to grab his boxers before he went inside your bathroom, thinking you were sleep when you were in fact up reading on your phone. wanting to laugh at the memory of him turning red in the face and trying his best to shield his dick with his hands. making a snide comment about how badly you wanted to stare at it. 
“you heard me,” he states simply, his gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. he's leaning directly over you, forehead nearly touching yours. his presence is overwhelming, filling the small room with his raw masculinity. this is a regular thing by the way. his constant teasing. waiting for you to let up. 
“okay, daddy,” you grin mischievously.
“mhm,” he kisses his teeth, and at the same moment his phone vibrates in his pocket. eren fishes for it, checking a text from connie. 
"connie’s outside, you done?” 
“you rushing me now? i don’t like this rennie tonight,” you tsk, shaking your finger like a disappointment mother. standing to your feet, you brush out the curls in your head by running your fingertips through them. 
you do look so pretty tonight. wearing an oversized pink greenbay packers jersey with a flowy white mini skirt, eren watching as you enter your walk in closet to fish for some white socks to scrunch at your ankle, and the same pair of sneakers he currently wore. my little twin. 
“sorry, i’ll be on my best behavior.” 
you smile, standing on your tiptoes and pinching his cheek, eren liking the view a bit too much, trying to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you close. “such a good boy. now, let’s go!” 
“wait, i want a kiss, wife,” eren smiled, trying to lean in before you pull away and shove your hand in his face. 
“leave me alone, pervert!” 
connie’s goal tonight was to show off the enhancements he added to his neon green scion frs, the car humming outside of your house when you go to say hello to him. he mentions that he’s going to swing by to pick up his girlfriend before he meets the two of you there. she didn’t live too far so he was able to make it before you two did, eren always having to make a mental note not to drive like a dickhead when you’re in the car. knowing your nerves are bad. they’ve gotten slightly better though since you’re with him all the time. 
you loved drift meet up’s because it was a free car show to see all the cool ass cars, most of the models popular in japan. men and women in groups drinking and bumping music as they interact. it’s illegal as hell where you live but sometimes everyone’s able to get away with it if they don’t act too much like jackasses. this spot was mostly secluded from open roads or police. 
eren walks alongside you, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders as you both make your way  to the forefront where cars currently span in action. his car wasn’t parked too far, planning on performing a show himself in a little. the adrenaline pumping through the crowd as drivers send their vehicles skidding around corners and spinning donuts in the dirt your favorite, and his. connie arrives not too long after, eren going up to talk to him before you’re locked in, excited for him. 
“i need to teach you how to drift one of these days. i gotta see your pretty ass behind a nissan 240sx or sum,” he says, pulling you closer into his side so you can hear him over the noise. 
“that’s specific,” you laugh, looking up at him while chewing your gum, rocking with him. 
eren grins down at you, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. “what can i say? i have a type.” 
“you sure do,” your voice trails off, focused on connie’s loud car screeching and swinging before the crowd around you. cheers vibrating your ears like a concert. the feeling like a movie. you don’t notice that eren keeps his eyes on you the whole time, admiring you as you jump, clap, and scream from excitement. pulling your phone out to record your friend. 
removing yourself from his arm, you notice the cars currently in the circle beginning to depart and make way for others. “con’s!”
eren shakes his head as he watches you bolt towards connie’s car, jumping up and down like a kid, bending low to give him a high five. “that was fucking awesome!” 
“yeah, fuck with me!” he continues to slap his palm with yours. you look over to his girlfriend in the passenger seat, reaching over to twinkle fingers. 
“hey girly!” luna smiles, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear since it blew everywhere from the wind. 
“hiii!” you giggle. 
“shit was good, i taught you well,” eren approaches, their heavy hands interacting, shaking before snapping their fingers. 
“yea, whatever. you always want full credit, asshole,” connie sucks his teeth. 
“oh my god, we should totally drift each other!” luna suggests. connie whips his head in her direction. 
“wha—who said you driving my car?” connie blinks, flabbergasted. 
luna goes to hit his arm playfully. “cabrona, i meant she can get in the car with eren and yall do yall lil’ thingy thing.” 
“oooo, yayyy!” you approve instantly, clapping your hands together and turning to eren with puppy eyes. “oh, please?! i wanna shotgun!” 
“be my guest, sweetheart. but don’t try to hang your head out the window again like a damn dog, or else,” his voice drops low, a warning lacing his words as he gives you a knowing look.
“mhm, i make no promises,” you wink, racing towards his car. 
connie laughs at eren’s strained face, his friend knowing deep down he loved it. connie knew a lot you didn’t know. like the fact that eren’s madly in love with you, and has been ever since freshman year of high school. it’s not secret to anyone, really.  as eren approaches his parked car you bounced impatiently beside, he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb in before walking over to the driver's seat. the interior of his black r34 gtr is pristine, everything from the leather seats to the carbon fiber accents shining under the sunlight. you loved when he picked you up just to take you for a ride. he works on cars practically all day given he owns an auto shop, detailing and adding enhancements being his daily thing.
he’s getting his hands dirty and his mind fried from mechanical work. he customized this car to make it his own, his name written in japanese on the right corner of front window, a front spoiler splitter, apexi gt specthe which makes his exhaust sound like fucking gunshots, which terrifies you. on top of detailing the body of the car with giant dragons painted silver on either side of the vehicle. standing out to the crowd uniquely. 
eren makes his way inside of the vehicle, big hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts his legs in his seat, your eyes locking there momentarily before he inserts his key into the ignition, firing up the extremely loud engine. an anxious smile shows on your face once you see everyone yelling over the power of his car, having been in it a million times, you still hated the sound, triggering your sensory overload. but, you loved the thrill. swallowing, you turn to him, balling up his shirt on his hip to grab his attention. 
“promise me you’ll be safe,” you look up at him, worried.
a soft smile tugs at his lips as he sees the concern in your eyes. he reaches out, brushing a stray curl of hair from your face with his thumb. “don't worry, princess. i'll take care of both you and my baby here.” 
“i’m trusting you,” you whisper, biting your lip. “don’t hit anybody, i don’t need you going to jail. and please don’t hit connie, because he will kill you if you fuck up his car.” 
eren smirks, his hand dropping from your face to gently cradle the back of your neck. his grip is firm yet tender. “now why’d i risk traumatizing my girl like that?” 
you suck your teeth and pull away from him, crossing your arms. he only sets his hand on your thigh now, and you let him. “aren’t you going to start driving?” 
eren laughs heartily, his hand tightening around your thigh as he does. he revs the engine, feeling the power beneath them rumble in anticipation. his eyes flash dangerously in the dim light of the cars. “promise me something, too?” 
“what?”
“we’ll finish playing mommy and daddy when we get home?” he grins. 
“oh please, you know you can’t handle me,” you tease. such a bad habit you two have. joking too damn much. but by this point, from his end especially, you’re aware none of it is a joke. 
eren raised a brow, feeling threatened. “oh, i can’t?” 
“nope. and you’re too scared to admit it,” you taunt, fluttering a kiss in his direction. 
“mhm,” eren kisses his teeth, he gives a curt nod, as if making a mental note. “ima hold you to that.” 
“drive the damn car, eren.” 
ignoring the warmth in your chest from his flirting, he finally shifts the car into gear. with a roar of the engine, he accelerates onto the street, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. malice at the palace by BONES is bumping through the stereo system as eren expertly maneuvers his car around the road, each turn and drift executed with precision. the sound of the engine reverberating through the car sends a rush of adrenaline through him. you hated to admit how fucking good he looked right now, your hand gripping onto his bicep as you giggle each time he executes a perfect drift, tires screeching, watching connie’s car across from his spin around each other. part of him hopes to impress you. and clearly he has by the huge smile on your face. you’re like a kid in a candy shop, eyes lit up. 
“i’m doing it!” you yell, eren watching as you climb up on your seat, skirt rising from the wind blowing, your ass hanging out making his eyes go wide. 
“꒰♡꒱, sit your ass down.”
“woo!” it’s too late, now you’re banging the palm of your hand on the outside of the door, staring at others who hollered back at you, your curls flying in the wind. the people screaming and cheering louder the more you raised your upper body outside of the window, being sure to secure yourself. eren’s hand instinctively clutch onto your ankle. 
“goddamit,” he groans, but couldn’t help the feeling in his heart from your pure laughter. you’re enjoying yourself, that makes him happy. but your safety is important. given that, he slows down just enough so that it feels safe for you not to jolt and fall out of the car. despite your reckless act, he couldn’t help but marvel at how fearless you truly are.
connie’s car slides vertically next to eren’s, taking your chance to reach out and graze your fingers with luna’s as she leans her body outside of the window like you do, the two of you screaming like fans of your favorite superstar. the adrenaline pumping through your veins is exhilarating. 
eren’s hitting on the brakes, causing the tires to yell and the car to skid sideways. with a swift move of his foot on the gas pedal, eren launches his car into a perfect 360-degree spin. the car gracefully arcs around its axis before smoothly coming back onto its original trajectory, all done. the world outside blurs into a whirlwind of colors and shapes as you scream into the wind, lowering your body to take your seat in your original position. 
“that was sooo fun!” the sound you make is the cutest, giggling and bouncing your legs, full of energy now. he adores the glint in your eyes, but he also couldn’t hide the upset on his face. 
“i’m sure. next time, listen to me when i say don’t hang your body halfway out the fucking car. you’ve never done that before, what if you flew out?” the sudden change in his tone takes you aback. 
“i can take care of myself,” you retort, your defiant words making him clench his jaw. 
“not saying you can’t. i’m telling you don’t be so fuckin’ reckless,” his hand moves from the steering wheel to smooth down his face, keeping himself calm, despite the current situation being anything but serene. he doesn’t mean to ruin your mood. surely didn’t want to cause an argument. he just needed you to understand where he was coming from. “don’t die trying to show off.” 
“don’t die trying to protect me.” 
“꒰♡꒱ . . cut that big girl shit, seriously.” 
“aren’t we meeting our friends to get food? let’s go.” 
connie did mention they’d be grabbing food right after, eren clenching his jaw and pulling his attention away from you. he tries not to keep you at these events for too long, sometimes things get rowdy and guns are drawn and he wouldn’t allow either of you to be around that. shifting his car back into drive, he pulls away from the scene to trail behind connie. you hated the current silence of the car, picking up your phone to distract yourself from any conversation. as you pull up next to your group, onyankopon popping up a minute after, eren kills the engine and opens his door with ease. he rounds the car, opening the door for you. you give a quiet ‘thanks’ before speed walking away to luna. eren sighs deeply, sucking his teeth and locking his car, pulling a puff bar from his pocket and leaning against his vehicle to calm himself for a minute. 
“you okay? you look sad?” luna frowns as she holds your hand, ready to cross the street to enter the chinese restaurant. 
you make an awkward expression, not really wanting to make it a big deal. “nothing, i’m just hungry! also kind of have a headache from the whiplash.” 
glancing beside you, you see eren approaching onyankopon, shoving his keys into his pocket while simultaneously colliding their hands for a handshake, hearing the small ‘yo, wassup’ from the pair before you turn your head away, luna pulling you along with her. the five of you find a booth inside of the almost empty restaurant given its close to closing, being one o’clock in the morning and all. you take the time to catch up with luna since she’s been busy with esthetician classes and try your best to avoid eren . . even if he’s sitting directly next to you. this act can only go for so long before the two of you catch glances repeatedly, still making little interactions with the group together if you had to. you didn’t want everyone knowing that you two had a small fight. was it really a fight? you were fine, at least that’s what you liked to tell yourself. 
time passes and onyankopon is the first to leave, mentioning he has to get up early for work and saying his goodbyes. that leaves luna and connie to cuddle up next to one another in the booth, your eyes studying the way his arm is draped around her shoulder while he listens intently on everything she says, bopping her nose with his finger as she giggles cutely. you smile faintly, looking down at the food you’re playing with at this point with your chopsticks. 
eren glances at you as he finishes his plate, a finger pressed to his temple as he leans his elbow on the table. you feel his glare, turning his way to see what he wanted. his eyes holding a certain intensity that only you seem to understand. “come take a ride with me.” 
you continue to fiddle with your chopsticks, swallowing air. “where are we going?” 
“i need to talk to you about something.” 
you’ve dreaded this. unsure of what was going to come from him when you two were alone. you’re not sure if he’s still mad about earlier, his reaction when luna brought up your car moment laced with irritation, like he wanted nothing to do with it. honestly, there was nothing more to talk about. he knows you don’t like confrontation, so you hoped he wouldn’t make an entire conversation about why he feels the way he does. a simple apology should’ve sufficed. the anxiety is pumping through you now, wanting to groan from his seriousness. one thing you’ve learned about eren was that he was big on communication. if something bothered him or he felt like certain things needed to be talked about, he’d take that chance to fix it. when he’s serious about something, it gave you goosebumps. 
his gaze lingers on yours, the flickering candlelight on the table casting an enchanting glow on his features. you swallow, nodding. “okay.” 
“we’re gonna go,” you grab the couples attention across the booth, connie and luna sitting up the moment you and eren stand. 
“awe, okay boo! it was nice seeing y’all,” luna waves to both of you. eren’s patting his pocket for his keys, pulling out his wallet to set cash on the table for the both of you. 
eren smiles. “you too, love. i’ll see you tomorrow, con.” 
“bet, see you. y’all be safe.” 
the car shifts into gear and pulls out onto the quiet street, the sound of heavy wind encasing the vehicle the only thing you could hear, blurring out the world. eren drove possibly fifteen minutes to a spot only the two of you go to. it’s secluded, parked under a giant tree in a grass field high on a hill that overlooked the city night. it’s surely a romantic destination. the two of you go here whenever you need to rant about life or just escape. it’s been your spot since high school. the slow melody of rnb fills the interior, creating an intimate atmosphere. the two of you sit for a moment, eren fishing for his puff bar to take a few passes before you finally say something. 
“can i?” you ask, voice an almost hushed whisper. gesturing towards the object. 
“yeah,” he’s handing it your way, clearing his throat before leaning back into his seat, smoothing both hands down his thighs before adjusting comfortably, closing his eyes momentarily. 
eren takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “lemme start by saying i’m not mad at you.” 
you blink, shifting your body so all of your attention is on him so he feels important. you tend to stare off into nothingness during these moments. 
“yes, are you stubborn as fuck and it pisses me off at times? absolutely. you know when it comes to you, shit like that makes me anxious. i have that urge to protect you, and it’s always been like that. so don’t think i’m being immature by wanting to care for your safety. i know you’re grown, and you carry yourself well. but sometimes i need for you to just listen when i get gut feelings about shit.” 
“i know, and i apologize,” you reply almost instantly, the thought being on your mind the entire dinner, but unable to let the words pass. “i do appreciate how you care for me. i was just having fun and didn’t want my mood to be ruined. it was dangerous, anything could’ve happened.” 
despite his uncertainty, there's no denying the sincerity in his gaze; a raw vulnerability that contrasts sharply against his usual confident demeanor. struggling to say what’s really on his mind at the moment. “you still have that bad habit of never wanting to be corrected.” 
“yeah,” you lower your head to your thighs, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt. “still working on it. i tend to be too aggressive when i want to be right.” 
“i’m glad you understand. but, that’s not what i wanted to talk to you about.” 
you look up. “what is it? did something happen?” 
eren takes another deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to reveal. his gaze never leaving yours as he prepares to lay his heart bare. “look . . i’m g’na be straightforward with you. i don’t need you to take this as something that has to be figured out immediately. i’ll give you the time and space you need to think on it if you’re feeling the opposite. but. .”
his cheeks flush slightly under your scrutinizing stare. it’s clear that whatever he's about to say is far from easy for him. he’s scaring you. “me and you, we been close since kids. i have love for you for life, but i need you to know that it’s been hard just being your friend. my emotions are consuming me, and being around you all the time is only making it more difficult. i see myself being with you, being in love with you. . for a long time now.” 
the confession hangs heavy in the air between you both; raw and vulnerable, yet undeniably true. his heart pounds loudly in his chest as he waits for your reaction, bracing himself for either acceptance or rejection. either way, he’d stand by what he felt. and if you didn’t feel the same, it would hurt, but he would respect your boundaries. you’re unsure why you’re not . . surprised? he’s always been extremely affectionate with you, much more than a best friend should be. wasn’t necessarily fond of seeing you with other men or hearing about who you slept with. you told each other everything. had sleepovers. shared beds, and at times when you fell asleep before him, he’d brush a finger along your cheek and admired your beauty. 
"my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewife that gets to stay home and do whatever you want. shit, start your own business. i'll pay for it all. i'll take care of you. i want you to myself, always. never wanna leave you. wanna get your name tatted on me. kiss you all day. cuddle, watch your favorite movies and shitty supernatural tv shows. run you bubble baths 'n fuck you real good every time i come home. buy you that wolf gray kia k5 with pink interior you've been wantin'. send you on vacations. buy you all the sanrio plushies in the fuckin' world. want you to be mine, ꒰♡꒱."
" eren. . . "
"i'll even learn how to cook for you, princess. 'n you know i'm bad as fuck at that shit," eren chuckles, raking his fingers through your hair. you laugh with him, tears in your eyes. "but i'll learn for you so i can always make you some authentic udon ramen or birria tacos, all that good shit you love. cause you're my girl 'n you deserve it all."
eren's hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer to him. his fingers trace small circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his touch is gentle yet possessive. a tangible manifestation of the love he's been harboring for you. each stroke of his fingertips against your body feels like an exploration, a journey into the depths of your being that only he has access to.
“talk to me,” he bites his lip, lips nearly brushing your own, unable to help the pure attraction towards you. it’s stronger than ever right now. 
“i feel the same way,” you lean in, moaning from his touch, his hands on you all the time, though somehow now they make you weaker. “i just didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
eren’s breath hitches, a combination of shock and relief consuming him. “why the fuck would you think that?” 
your shoulders shrug shyly. “i don’t know,” your voice drags quietly. “sometimes shit like that doesn’t work for everybody. and we have a great friendship. i didn’t want us being together to fuck up the vibe.” 
“we not everyone,” he states, brushing a curl from your pretty face. “and we act like we date anyways. wouldn’t be no different.”
you recepriocate the act, brushing a few brown strands of hair that fell in front of his face, locking eyes before your lips press against his in feverish kiss. his tongue parts your lips, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth with a passionate intensity. his hands roam freely over your body now, one tracing delicate patterns on your lower back while the other slips beneath your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin underneath. every touch is filled with desire and longing, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. the heat in your face blows higher, as if the ache to kiss him was a distant dream. to finally taste him was something you hadn’t known you needed. both of your hearts are pounding in your chests, every beat echoing the intensity of your feelings for each other. 
“you have no idea,” he whispers huskily, pecking your lips. you moan, body melting into his touch. you could slip through his fingers like puddy, this center console blocking you. “how much i want you.” 
“show me then.” 
eren’s eyes darken with desire. his hands slide down to grip your ass, climbing over the console to reach for the recliner on your seat, your flushed face heating up from the close proximity, his hair brush along the apples of your cheek, his smell intoxicating. you giggle when he goes to remove the headrest of the chair, banging his hand into the seat so it’s completely flat and you’re resting on your back. eren hovers completely over you, bringing his body to the passenger side, squeaking when you feel his hardness brush against your clit, a clear indication of just how much he wants you. taking your lip between his teeth, he gives it a playful nip before trailing hot kisses down your neck, going to capture your lips in another hot kiss, rolling his hips into yours making you gasp. you trail your hands underneath his black shirt, hands sliding up his broad backside.
“i need you,” you whimper, knees disconnecting to spread yourself for him, scooting higher up the seat. your desperation makes his control slip further. 
“fuck,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire, tracing along the curve of your waist before dipping lower to tease at the hemline of your skirt. “you’re making it hard for me to keep my shit together.” 
“lick me up,” you whimper, pushing your hips down so your core presses against the bulge in his jeans, eren keeping down the moan in his throat, studying you. your thumbs slip into the band of your skirt, trying to indicate that you wanted them off. “please, m’dripping.”
“fuck,” he whispers again, this newfound sense of lust you had enrapturing him. “anything for you, baby.” 
his hands slip beneath your skirt to explore the softness of your thighs, smoothing over your ass as you raise your hips so it’s easier for him to pull off your skirt, his mouth watering at the bare sight of you wearing no panties. you’d slipped off your sneakers, the balls of your feet digging into his shoulder blades as he pushes you further up the chair for both of your comfortability, craning his neck between the plush of your heated thighs. he breathes in your scent, moaning into a kiss he places on your inner thigh. 
“c’mon—ah!” your breath is taken from you for your impatience, eren’s mouth circling around your clit for a quick feel before he’s lowering his tongue to taste all of you. locking his eyes with yours as you thread your fingers through his hair to push away, deciding to remove the hair tie from around your wrist to tie his hair onto the back of his head. 
the taste of you on his lips drives him wild, craving this for years on end. eren groans from the sweet taste you leave on his fat tongue, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. eren growls in approval at your submission, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer to his mouth, swallowing down your clit, sucking on your pussy to hear you make those pretty noises he’s only heard once in his life. accidentally, of course. maybe catching you fucking yourself coming up the stairs without your knowledge, wanting to surprise you with food while the two of you studied for finals. he’s always kept that to himself, knowing you’d be extremely embarrassed by it. of course, he didn’t know it’s because you couldn’t stop thinking about what he wore in p.e; a black deftones muscle tank he cut as a crop top with gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into a manbun with his skin glistening in sweat from the insane weather out. dark ink around his skin making your mind run rapid. 
he releases his mouth momentarily, popping off your clit lewdly to murmur, “you are fuckin’ drippin’.” 
your back arches into his embrace, craning your neck as you rock against his face, eren grinning wickedly at your muffled sound, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. he laps at your entrance, thriving for every drop. his hands move to spread your legs wider apart, giving him better access to feast on your needy cunt. you hum in ecstasy, the sensation from the metal ball of his tongue piercing flicking your clit, using it to tease and torment you. his dark eyes watching you like prey, squirming and gasping from every suck. 
“fuck, baby,” he moans. “you’re so sensitive.” 
his hands move to cradle your ass cheeks as he pushes your ass up to fuck his face better, pussy glistening under the moonlight. his tongue continues it’s relentless assault, curling and connecting his tongue with your aching cunt feverishly while suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. your hands stretch to grip onto the door handle, moaning when his hand goes to smack the back of your thigh. eren growls at your helpless moans, his tongue delving deeper into your slick folds, slithering inside of you to prep you. his hands pinning your legs wide allows him unrestricted access to your throbbing cunt.
“wet n’ pretty ass pussy, baby. so, so pretty. jus’ like you, right?” he groans against you, increasing the pressure on his tongue, thrusting it in and out of you rhythmically. his free hand moves to play with your clit, rolling the sensitive nub under his thumb as he devours your pussy. 
without waiting for a response, he resumes his ministrations, his tongue plunging back into your dripping cunny while one hand continues to toy with your clit. his actions intensify as he listens to your desperate whimpers. his tongue laps at your slit greedily, drinking down every drop of your sweetness, thumb working overtime on your clit, rubbing up and down mercilessly.
“stick your fingers in me,” you whine, the brokenness in your tone only making his dick harder. he’d rather shove his dick in you, but he wouldn’t deny what you pleaded for. 
eren chuckles darkly at your plea, and within a second, his ring and index fingers are slipping inside of you, eren curling them upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep within your pussy.
“like this?” he sputters against your clit, your juices encapsulating him. your inner thighs tremble from the switch up, biting your lip and nodding. “fuck you up real good? ‘till you cream on me?” 
“y-yesss, f-fuck,” your sobs overtake you, his tongue continuing it’s relentless assault on your sensitive bud, licking and sucking it into oblivion. eren hums in agreement, his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt. he watches his fingers pump harder into your quivering cunt with furrowed brows, mumbling expletives to himself in fascination, your cunny squelching and sinking them in each time they threatened to pull out. 
“ima sink my dick in your shit, fuck. i’m too fucking hard for you,” he groans against your clit, pace quickening, the combination of his fingers fucking into you while his tongue circles around your clit pushing you closer to the edge.
“keep fucking me, baby. fuckin’ love your tongue.” 
eren loves your cries so much it’s hurting his dick bad, his fingers pumping harder into your twitching cunt, begging for you to cum. you’re drenching his fingers. he removes them when he notices your hand is cupping underneath his jaw, pulling his face in deeper and swaying your hips, the balled up expression on your face reading all he needed to know. you stretch your legs high, clamping your thighs shut and wrapping your arms underneath the curve of your knees to angle them towards your chest. eren licks his lips before sinking his tongue deep into you, thrusting his tongue like he’d use his dick.  
making a noise of approval, you grip onto his hair while maintaining your position, yanking his head back and forth, screaming as his face clashes with your pussy, tongue fucking you open until you finally cum. your tummy caves in, lifting your head to press into your knees as you catch your breath, streaming out praises of ‘yes, yes yes, baby,’ as he continues to fuck you on his tongue, uncaring of you drenching his nose and chin. 
while you take time to recuperate, eren’s leaning his head up to clean his face with the back of his hand, licking off the remainder as he reaches down to unbutton his jeans, slipping them down to his thighs and giving his dick a few slow strokes, the sight of it, thick and long, glistening with precum is enough to make anyone drool. eren holds onto it teasingly, keeping it just out of reach as he watches your reaction. “knew you wanted to see it again.” 
you cover your face. “shut up.”
with a lustful gleam in his eyes, he lines the throbbing tip against your wet slit, sliding it up and down to gather your arousal before he’s grabbing the back of your neck to look into your eyes, heavy body hovering over yours, trying his best not to lean all of his weight onto you. granted, that’s exactly what you wanted, to be suffocated under him. feel weak, submissive. 
“tell me you’re okay.” 
you nod, eyes slowly closing, unable to keep focus. “yes, m’okay. it’s okay.” 
the feeling of being sheathed within your tight pussy makes him shudder, removing his hand from your neck to balance his body by gripping onto either side of the leather seat after locking your legs flat. you reach for the recliner to level the seat up a little more, eren kissing your forehead. you drag your body lower so it’s easier for him to move, shivering from the full feeling he gives you, and that’s only half of him. 
“fuck,” he gasps, grinding into you slowly so you’ll adjust. you swivel your hips, teeth biting into your lip as you stare at the sharp cut of his jawline, emerald eyes clamped shut. “that’s it.” 
with each heavy thrust, eren can’t help the animalistic groans emitting from him, the deep baritone of his voice making your clit pulsate harder as he fucks himself deeper into you. your skin clapping as he pounds into you hard, hitting your spot and making you cry for him. he wheezes within the crevice of your neck, both of your moans colliding within the small enclosure, vibrating over the music flowing from his speakers. he’s fucking you faster with each thrust.
“s’so good, f-fuck,” the wind gets taken from you with every harsh pound, grunting beneath him and taking it all. he felt so fucking good, you couldn’t believe you waited this long just to let him fuck you. too many opportunities missed. for good and wrongs reasons though. 
“that’s it, you’re such a good girl,” his mouth gives you a chaste, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. everything he does makes you want to cum. heavier and stronger than the last. he’s a fucking trip. 
“i’m your good girl?” your bottom lip is pulled into your mouth, teeth baring as you smile drunkenly. 
“ ‘course you are,” he kisses you again, prolonging it this time, your body slipping lower giving him the chance to fuck you even deeper, stretching you open and stuffing you full. you can feel him all in your tummy, your brows furrowed. “better than that. you’re my baby.” 
“i’m your baby?” the drag out of a whiny tone as you grip onto his chin to keep his eyes on yours has the man before you crumbling. 
eren practically whines from the way you speak to him, molding your frame into his seat from the strength he fucked you with, listening to your pussy cry for him. “you’re my baby.” 
“my pussy loves you,” you move with him, your tight cunt squeezing him, feeling that warmth build up in your stomach. 
“it does, huh. tell me how much, love.” 
“loves it so fucking much, daddy.” 
“that’s what i wanted to hear,” he hisses, groaning and fucking you faster, straightening his legs so he gets a get angle, hitting into you with all his weight. “oh god, baby. you feel so fuckin’ good.” 
“yeah, daddy?” you whimper, biting your lip. 
“yes, babydoll,” eren groans in agreement, cursing to himself as he slips his dick out, the two of you gasping from the disconnect, eren lifting himself from you. “bend over.”
you use the seat to turn yourself around, hiking yourself further up to give his big body space to settle behind you. you keep your thighs pressed together, shifting your ass back against him and arching your back low. you jump when he lands a heavy swat to your ass, hissing as his fingertips grip your flesh and bounce your ass back, mesmerized by how it moves. he draws his hips back, flexing his dick to make it jump into the right position to easily slide within your wet opening, the angle allowing him to hit deeper within your pussy than before. 
“unh, sshit,” eren moans, hands grabbing either side of your hips and tugs you back, your ass clapping amongst his toned abdomen. your forehead is connected with the seat, mouth agape as you feel the swell of him slip in and out of you, eyes scrolling to the back of your skull. 
“sshit, you’re so deep, ah!” 
his thrusts become more forceful, hitting even deeper within your pussy. with every stroke, he feels himself getting closer to release. eren growls, his canines grazing your skin as he leans in to bite your neck, your filthy whine only serving to heighten his arousal. he continues to thrust hard into you, each movement sending you both closer to breakage. 
“g’na cum, baby,” eren whimpers, rolling his waist into you, that pressure in his lower abdomen threatening to break. 
“noo, don’t cum yet,” you whine, shaking your head pleadingly. “n-not there yet.” 
“i won’t. won’t cum yet, baby,” he hisses in response. “wanna wait for daddy? so we can cum together?” 
“mmnh, wanna cum with you, baby,” your head nods drunkenly, sightly blurry. your body aches from the lack of space in the car, but it felt so good to be overpowered by him. drilling his dick into you harder. 
“take it f’me, ꒰♡꒱.” 
“i’m taking it, baby. for you.” 
“moan f’me,” his lips get closer to your ear, eren’s eyes squeezing tight, jaw wide as he fucks your pussy open. 
“m-moaning for you, babyy-ah!”
“fuck it back f’me, act like you wanna get fucked,” eren growls in pleasure, his thrusts continuing.
“i’ll fuck it for you, fuck it for you,” you’re straight up sobbing now, rolling your ass back to meet his rough strokes, dripping down your inner thighs. you’d never been fucked this good before in your life. could have possibly been the chemistry, or the longing for him. “ooo-mnmg, i feel it.” 
eren smirks, his hands moving to encircle your throat. his grip tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply, his clothed chest on your back and the coldness from his silver chain tickling your flesh. “eren, ima cum again. k-keep it there.” 
your body shudders beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing as you feel your orgasm breaks through you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock and whimpering vehemently in his face, sobbing from your inability to withhold your orgasm as well as the overwhelming way he fucked you. 
“ren,” you weep, reaching your hand behind yourself to try to push his hips away. but he doesn’t budge. eren grips your wrist to bend it still behind your back, slowing his movements the last motive. 
“you came without me, baby. bad girl,” he tightens his grip on your wrist, giving an open mouthed kissed over the side of your face. 
a small cry fell from your lips. "s-sorry. fuck, rennie . . please.”
"please, what?” he grits his teeth, the shortest hairs in front sticking to his forehead while the others threaten to fall loose from the small bun on the back of his head. the silver bracelets on his wrist clanking as he yanks you back to meet his aggressive thrusts. 
"please, eren—s-slow. i’m sensitive.” 
"that's not my name. what's my fuckin’ my name, ꒰♡꒱?" he grunts dominantly, pressing a harsh kiss to your temple, knowing what he needs.
"s-shit—daddy, please!” 
despite your pleas, he keeps fucking you mercilessly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy with ease. the sensation of being buried within you is too intoxicating for him to stop.
“jus’ a little more, baby. please take it a lil more,” his hand lands heavily on your ass, slowing his thrusts a bit for your sake and to feel your pussy constrict and beg to swallow him deeper as he shifts his hips slightly back, the tip of his dick kissing your entrance before he’s shoving it back in. circling his hips, ass flexing and becoming apart of you, pushing him towards another climax. 
“ooo, you fuckin’ me so good.” 
“ ‘cause it’s you, ‘cause i love you.” 
with a final powerful thrust, eren buries himself deep inside you. his cock twitches within your pussy, reaching in between to pull his dick out just in time, spurting his cum directly on your backside. your scream is deafening, covering your mouth and grinding your ass back as you cum again, unsure how that’s fucking possible. your body betrayed you, acting as if you’ve never been fucked in your whole life. but, truth be told, you’ve never gotten fucked that deep, or that good. 
“fuck!” eren’s tone is deep, stroking his dick while his other hand held your ass, thrusting into his hand to draw out every ounce of cum you wanted out of him. eren nearly collapses onto you, panting heavily as he recovers from his orgasm, slowly softening but knowing he can go another round. maybe at your house this time.
he kisses your neck softly. “are you okay, love?”
you nod, heaving, mouth dry. trying to regain your vision. “y-yeah. m’good.”
before rolling off of you, he gives you another kiss before he’s climbing back into the drivers seat to pull his pants back up, fishing for a wipe inside of his center console. 
you’re laying on your stomach now, cheek resting on your arms as you catch your breath, eren smiling down at you, kissing your spine as he wipes up his mess. “so pretty, baby.” 
that makes you weaker than anything he’d just done to you, hiding your face within your arms, still looking at his gorgeous face. he loves you so much, it’s always been clear. you hate how long it’s taken you to realize that. 
“i don’t have to think on it,” you suddenly say, eren staring intensely. your lips curve into a smile. “i know i love you too. for a while now.” 
the sparkle in his eyes makes your heart absolutely melt. “for real?”
you nod. “yeah. my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewif—”
“shut. the. fuck. up,” eren sounds out, smushing your lips together so you wouldn’t see the redness in his face. of course you’d mock him. you giggle into his mouth, squeaking when he goes to tickle your hip, eren laughing when you turn to hit his arm. 
“seriously, eren, i hate that shit!” 
“blah, blah, blah. love you too.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
5K notes · View notes
slytherinslut0 · 23 days ago
Text
SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER
october 18th. mattheo — hate fucking / enemies.
Tumblr media
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.
summary: “at least her favourite form of foreplay isn’t an argument…” “or being a bitch her kink..”
warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon(meh), ex bf/gf trope, toxic behaviour, mutual manipulation, these two are chaotic as fuck, mentions of blood, gagging, degradation, rough sex PIV, hate fucking, spitting, spanking, uhhh i think that covers it. this one is a ride. can you tell this is my fav trope?
Tumblr media
"I'm so fucking sick of you.”
"Get well soon, princess."
"Get fucked, Riddle."
Three sentences, three venomous insults that cut the room in half—heavy enough in their intensity to make you want to tear through dungeon walls, splintering stone and mortar with bare hands if it means sparing yourself another second in this blasted room, with him.
Detention at midnight—on a Friday, no fucking less—is unheard of. But leave it to your dickhead ex to make the impossible a reality. His fault, of course. Like always.
Snape had turned a blind eye for months. It was only a matter of time before something had to give. An hour unsupervised was as good as you'll get.
Sulking defeat, you sink back in your chair, rough wood digging into your spine as you eye Mattheo with a glare that could rival a bullet. He looks like hell, and it's infuriating how even in that state he manages to look so nonchalant, so maddeningly unbothered—like even exhaustion makes a home on him and he's comfortable with it. Bags under his eyes, scar cutting across the bridge of his nose, those dark curls falling messily over his forehead, white dress shirt wrinkled and open at the collar.
You roll your eyes, a gesture that feels like your only act of rebellion left.
And he notices. Of course he does.
"You haven't changed a bit," he spits, and you know it's an insult. You scowl as he swipes the blood off his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. "Always a bitch to me over something."
Bitch. The name strikes you, but you won't let him see it, won't let him know that it lands. You've bled too many times at his feet for him to draw blood again tonight.
"Am I not allowed to be pissed off that you dragged us into detention? We should be at the party, Mattheo. We should be anywhere but here." You hear the frustration rising in your voice, like it's boiling up from somewhere deep, somewhere you can't quite reach. It's hard not to let it slip, especially when he looks at you like that. "This is so fucking typical of you. You mess up, and somehow I'm the one who pays for it."
For a moment, there's silence, and it almost feels like a victory until you realize he's only biding his time, waiting to strike back.
"You really want to get back there? To that party?" He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You long for the chair to break from under him. "After what your new man was caught doing with Lovegood?"
You snort before you can stop yourself, the sound slipping out like a reflex. You hadn't expected that. And quite frankly, it's amusing—no, downright hilarious—that he's clearly been keeping tabs on you and "new man", and now here he is, trying to play it off like he doesn't care. Like it's nothing.
"I'll spare you the insults this once," you mutter, fingers loosening the tie around your neck with a tug. "Because, clearly, you're ignorant to the truth, even if you think you know every goddamn thing." You pause, ripping out your earrings. "He's not my man, so I don't give a shit what he does with who. He ended it last week. Good fuck, sure—but other than that..."
You trail off, making a mocking noise with your lips, a derisive puff of air, as if you could blow away the memory of him as easily as dust off an old book. A Ravenclaw. Brilliant in all the wrong ways—sharp mind, yes, but utterly thrill-less, like he saw you as just another page to flip through, a textbook he was annotating.
It is what it is.
A moment passes and then Mattheo grins—slow at first, but spreading across his face like fire, destructive in its consummation. It unsettles you. He looks more intrigued than he's been in months.
"A good fuck, huh?"
"That's what I said," you reply, clipped, your tone offering no room for him to crawl inside.
"And why didn't it work out? Too good for you?" He says, twisting the knife just because he can. "Too clean, maybe?"
Your eyes scan the room, searching for something within reach to throw at him, anything to break this unbearable tension. Insufferable. Every inch of him, insufferable.
You find nothing, so you throw words instead. "You're an asshole, you know that?"
He nods, as if that's the truest thing either of you have said all night. Of course he knows.
You barely suppress a dry laugh at his idiocy. "Like I told you—he ended it. If you're so fucking interested in why it didn't work out, then why don't you go ask him?"
There's a pause—he's chewing the inside of his cheek as he stares at you. You imagine chewing his head off as you stare at him.
"I'm sure you gave that bookworm the ride of his life," he says, voice half-dry, half-sarcastic, as if he's already bored of the conversation. As if he knew all of this information already. "Everyone knew that was temporary. Your first rebound, congrats."
And just like that, your blood is boiling. He knows how to needle you, how to get under your skin with the slightest flick of his stupid fucking tongue. Your eyes trace the cold stone of the dungeon walls, desperately trying to find something—anything—to distract yourself.
But it's no use. Mattheo's an asshole. He's always been an asshole. That's why you left. All the two of you did was fight and fuck, a chaotic spiral that was as thrilling as it was destructive. Now, he's easily your enemy—dragging you into his messes, never letting you get too far without ruining your life somehow.
And yet—
If you said you didn't miss the sex sometimes, that'd be a lie. Or at least a half-truth. The kind that slips out when you've had one too many glasses of firewhiskey, the kind you'd regret in the morning.
"What about you, dickhead?" You cut through the silence, ignoring his obvious attempt to rile you up. "That Hufflepuff you were seeing—why'd I see her all over Theo tonight?"
He answers far too fast. "They're friends."
You snort, disbelieving. "Right."
You rise to your feet, crossing the room to the bookcase as if it's the most natural thing in the world. The books feel safer somehow, less volatile.
"You're bored of her, aren't you?" You don't care to look at him. You can imagine the way his jaw tenses at the question.
The silence is telling. He doesn't answer right away. You know him well enough to understand what that means. Then, finally, he speaks, a half-answer that doesn't really answer the fucking question at all.
"At least her favourite form of foreplay isn't a fucking argument." He stands, slow, pushing his hair back from his forehead with one battered hand. You glance at him, pulse quickening. "Or being a bitch her kink."
"Does she even have kinks?" It slips out, a knife thrown without aiming. "Sounds like you're bored, Matty."
You watch as he blinks, his eyes darken. That nickname—you know you don't have the right to say it anymore, and that's exactly why you do. It's an insult wrapped in familiarity, and it hits its mark by the way his shoulders tense, jaw tight.
He steps toward you, one calculated step, and you feel it—that chaotic pull, the gravity that's always drawn you both in, no matter how far you try to stay away. A smile pulls at your lips, a cruel thing.
"How cute." He tilts his head just enough to inspect you, eyes dragging over you like he's searching for something to confirm what he already suspects. "Looks like you're jealous."
Your hand grips the bookshelf, eyes locked on him over your shoulder. Jealous? There's not a soul on this planet who could make you jealous. She may be the hero of this story, the girl that gets the guy, might even be everything you're not—
"Looks like you're learning the hard way," you're inspecting him now, too. Every piece of him you once touched. "When it comes too easy it's never gonna' hit as hard, babe."
Another pause from him—something dancing in his eyes. Anger? Maybe. Or something more, something twisted that you don't care to name. You've already lit the match, and now you're just watching him burn.
"You're so clever, huh? So full of advice," he sneers, ripping off his tie and chucking it on a desk. "Go on then, tell me more about how I feel, professor. Since you know everything about me."
You can't help the smirk that curls on your lips. Oh, he's pissed. And that means you're winning.
"What? You don't like hearing the truth? Too much for your delicate ego?" You take a step toward him, savouring every second of this. He hurt you, over and over, the scars from those days still fresh, still bleeding beneath your skin. This has been a long time coming. "You think I care about your new girl, Matty? The one you let your boys fawn over in the common room?...she kissed Theo tonight." You pause, letting that linger. "You think you're doing something, but I see right through you. You don't give a fuck about her. If you did, no one would dare touch her like that. So don't sit here, accusing me of jealousy, like I'm the one hung up on you. You're projecting. And it's pathetic."
He doesn't waste a goddamn beat—his laugh is bitter, sickeningly so—and he advances again, his shadow moving behind him, the space between you now barely there.
"That's amazing, truly. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a goddamn oracle. All-knowing, all-seeing." His voice is infuriating. The look on his face more-so. "What's your verdict then, my lord? You think this is all an act? That everything I'm doing is just to spite you?"
Your heart races, breath catching in your throat as he steps closer. This is a dance you both know too well, the kind where neither of you win.
"I know how you operate." Your chest heaves, anger rising with every breath. "It's all a game to you, Matt. A sick, twisted game to keep yourself entertained."
"That's rich, coming from someone who played it just as well." He takes another step forward. You could reach out and touch him now he's that close. His grin grows. "Too bad your Ravenclaw figured it out before you could sink your teeth in too deep. Next time you see him, make sure to tell him I said you're welcome."
Your brows pinch—the blood in your veins screeching to a halt, backing up like New York traffic at a standstill. You feel it, hot and furious, rushing toward a place it can't go, clogged behind the wall of rage building up inside you—
"You're welcome?" You spit, a sharp snarl caught between clenched teeth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
He's watching you, his eyes darting over your shoulder, fingers brushing over his lips like he's trying to dull that familiar smirk, that cruel little game he's always played.
Your stomach sinks, drops to your feet.
"Mattheo—" you snap, cutting him off just as he opens his mouth, before he can throw another snide word. "Spare me the cryptic bullshit for once in your life—“
His eyebrows lift at that, but there's a nod, a hint of something deeper in it. You taste the smugness in the air between you, can almost feel it slithering through his silence.
"Looks like you don't know everything after all. Isn't that ironic?" He straightens up, letting the moment breathe before his face hardens into something almost serious. "Your rebound came to me in the courtyard about two weeks ago. Had some questions about you."
"What?" Your nerves are vibrating, every cell in your body on edge. Your blood is so clogged, you swear you're seeing red. "What questions?"
"The usual sort of normal stuff. Your birthday. Your favorite colour. Childhood traumas. Our downfall. You know."
The casualty in the way he says it makes you sick, bile rising in your throat, a bitter burn at the back of your mouth. It's all starting to come together now. This stupid motherfucker—
"You're lying." The words feel weak, frail. He wouldn't—no, he couldn't. "You're fucking lying."
"Am I?" His fingers brush your cheek, but your skin's gone numb, your blood too frozen to feel anything but the cold burn of your fury. "Or, is the truth just…too much for your delicate ego to handle?"
Oh, fuck off—
Your wand is in your hand before you even realize you've grabbed it, instinct, pure reflex. There's barely a second of rational thought before you're casting, the spell hitting him square in the chest, sending him flying back into the chair he once sat in. His eyes flash, anger igniting there, and he scrambles for his wand—but you're faster.
"Expelliarmus."
One word and you're across the room before you even know you've moved, chest tight as you slam the tip of your wand against his throat. There's a cut on his lip, blood trickling down his chin for a second time tonight, but that stupid fucking smirk is still there, showcasing rubies for teeth and carved into his face like it belongs.
"Tell me what you did." Your voice cracks, but not from fear—it's fury, burgling through you, burning hot enough to make your whole body shake. You half want to cut him open just to bury your rage inside him, let him feel it. "If what you're saying is true, he ended things just days later. Tell me what the fuck you said to him."
Mattheo’s leaning back, hands raised in mock surrender, eyes glinting with the same smug amusement that's always haunted him. He's daring you, taunting you. He knows you never cared about that guy, not really.
You both know it. He was boring, easy.
This—this is something else.
His tongue swipes at the blood on his lip. "He didn't tell you—"
"Don't." Your wand digs deeper into his skin, cutting off whatever he was about to say. The pressure makes his breath hitch, but not enough. Not nearly enough. "I said tell me."
"Merlin—okay—I told him nothing, nothing really," his voice makes your grip tighten on your wand. He stares at you for a long, hard minute before he adds; "except that he should show me some fucking gratitude."
Your jaw slips, confusion rushing in like a flood. But before you can even question him—
"I told him he should be thanking me." Another pause. "When he's fucking you."
He laps at the blood seeping from the cut on his lip for the second time in only a minute and you barely notice the movement—the words hit you like a brick, but it's deeper than that, something visceral that crawls under your skin and settles in your bones. It's sharp, raw, cutting through the wall of rage so fast it leaves you breathless. You don't know how to explain it, this feeling that twists through you, something far too complicated to be named.
And then, you become aware of everything at once.
His legs, spread wide on either side of yours, the space between you so small, your chest just close enough to his face that his breath feels like it's fogging your skin. You're towering over him, wand pressed hard into his throat, your heart hammering in your chest like you're ready to ruin him—but his eyes, the way he looks up at you, says he'd let you.
"I may have even added that although you're with him, you'll always think of me. Both you and him know it’s true.“ That stupid smirk is gone, replaced with something you've never quite seen before. He pauses, before he continues. "You miss it. Us." Another pause. There’s something victorious in his tone, something that's almost breaking you. "And no matter how many times you try to forget, you never do, do you?"
Salazar save you—you should hex him. You should fucking hex him. Every nerve in your body is screaming for it, begging for it, but you can't. You can't fucking move. Your wand is still pressed to his skin, but it feels like you're the one pinned down.
"Shut up," you finally manage, but your voice is meek, thin, nothing like the fury you want to feel. "You...you're being—"
"I'll shut up," his hand finds your wrist, pressing your wand tip against his neck with more force—enough to make himself wince. "If you make me."
You blink, stunned, and you can feel your anger slipping, slipping faster than you can catch it. You don't know what's happening to you—it’s just him—his sick twisted insanity that disarms you. Time and time again. An endless fucking cycle.
"I could ruin you," you whisper, but it sounds more like you're trying to convince yourself than him. You press the wand deeper, just enough to draw a grunt from him, but the look on his face—he's not afraid. No, he's enjoying it. "I have more reasons than most to leave you here bloodied for Snape to find in the morning."
You say the words but the conviction is gone, swept away in the flood of heat between you—the dizzying proximity, the way his lips curl, almost smiling but not quite—
"What are you so afraid of?" He whispers, and there's something fragile in his voice now. "That you might actually want this?"
"I don't want this." You force the words out immediately, hoping they will make it real. Hoping they'll stop this spiral. "I regret ever wanting this."
He’s silent for a moment as he lowers his hands, dark eyes falling to trace your lips—
"I know you hate me, the feelings mutual...but I know. I know I'll always be your favourite regret," those chocolate curls shift, his head tilts closer, too close. Not close enough. "You're still my weapon of choosing."
Merlin. Merlin bloody forgive you—
"…to hurt yourself with?” It's half a question, but you already know the answer.
He nods, and that does it.
Your lips are on his, fast and hard and bruising—and the reaction is immediate, visceral. All that backed-up blood—all that rage frozen in your veins rushes forward in a single, scorching wave. It crashes low, between your thighs, a heat so sharp it aches. The shame comes with it. So does the disgust. A sick knot of self-hatred pulsing through you as you taste his blood on your tongue while his hands are under your skirt, grabbing you like he owns you, pulling you into him. It's only a moment before your wand clatters to the ground, and your hands are tangled in his hair, yanking hard, hard enough to hurt.
You want it to hurt. God, you want it to hurt.
He growls at the sting on his scalp—and then, everything flips.
His fingers tug at something, and you realize it's his own wand, the one you tucked into the back of your skirt—and before you can even think, he's got it, casting a spell that sends you flying back onto the desk behind you. You groan—the world spins, but you don't even have a second to gather yourself before he's advancing toward you, casting another spell on his tie.
Within seconds it's slithering across your lips and tying itself around your head, gagging you.
He steps between your legs, parts them with the ease of someone who's done it a thousand times before—rough hands gliding up your thighs, eyes wild. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, through your slit, and you try to hold on to any shred of control, but it's gone. You can feel it. The way you forget everything except the way he leans down, breath hot in your ear.
"Look how fucking wet you are," he spits through a sneering grin. "You're goddamn shameless, aren't you?"
You roll your eyes, but your thoughts scatter the moment his fingers shove inside you, curling hard—so hard you gasp into the tie, your back arching violently off the desk.
"He ever get you this wet?" His voice is like gravel, each word grinding into your bones. "Nod your head if he did."
Your body reacts before your mind does, arching against him, but you don't move your head. As much as it hurts your pride to give him that win. You dig your fingers into his hair and pull—hard enough to make him grunt, hard enough to hurt.
His hand comes down hard on your thigh in response, a sharp smack that stings, a warning. You squeal, and his fingers start pumping faster, deeper.
He huffs. "That's what I thought."
His fingers make quick work of you, relentless, and his thumb presses to your clit, rolling circles in a rhythm that has your blood on fire, shame licking at the edges of your vision, but it only makes you burn hotter. This is all wrong. Everything about this is wrong, something you'll regret with every fiber of your being tomorrow, but right now, it's an ache you need.
It's the wound you keep reopening, the pain you crave because it's the only thing that ever feels real.
"Fuck, you're close, aren't you?" He sounds almost shocked, like he can't believe how easily your body betrays you, but you feel it too, the disbelief crashing through you as fast as the pleasure does. Too fast. Far too fast. "Did he ever make you cum? Huh? When's the last time you fucking came?"
You can't answer, just groan, yanking at his hair again. His response is immediate, another stinging slap to your inner thigh, sharp enough to make fluid prick your eyes. Your orgasm is right there, teetering on the edge, ready to tip over—but then he slows his pace, dragging it out, torturing you.
You whine. A pitiful, desperate sound you hate yourself for.
"Look at me." His voice cuts through the haze, and begrudgingly, you do. "He didn't make you cum, did he?"
Your face burns, not from his breath or his fingers or even the astronomical amount of shame you feel—but from the truth of it. You shake your head.
"How long?" His voice shatters the air between you. "A week?"
You shake your head again, biting into the fabric of his tie as his fingers curl deeper inside you.
"Two weeks?"
Another shake. He curses under his breath.
"You poor little thing." His words are venom, but the second they spill from his lips, he pumps his fingers into you again, massaging at your walls, and your vision goes white. "Can't even cum without me."
You would've slapped him if you could, would've torn him apart, but the orgasm hits you like a freight train, ripping through you with violent force. You clench around his digits, thighs trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure, convulsing, moaning into the tie as he watches you like he's won.
"So fucking easy." He withdraws his fingers, and immediately, his hands go to his belt. "We'll make up for lost time."
Everything about this feels like a rerun. The same scene playing out on loop, again and again—a cycle of self-destruction you know too well, like running headfirst into a burning building, certain you can handle the smoke only to choke on it.
He's taking off his belt, ready to fuck you stupid, and by morning you'll be back to the same familiar hatred, tearing each other apart in new, inventive ways. Your hands move sluggishly to rip the tie from your mouth, but you're slow, too slow, still dizzy from the release that blindsided you, one that you haven't felt in so long—the fabric barely grazes your fingers before Mattheo catches your wrists, yanking them back, dragging you to your feet in one rough motion.
The spin disorients you—arms pinned behind your back, his cock sliding between your thighs.
"You've done enough talking today," he hisses at your ear as he drags along your slit. "You want this, don't you?"
Your mind screams for you to shake your head, to end this here and now. You know he'd stop—he's an asshole, but not that kind of an asshole. You know it. You almost do it, almost say the word that would shatter this madness. But then he drags his tip against your clit and you moan before you can stop yourself.
Your head nods with a wanton moan, and it's so full of shame your eyes sting with tears.
"Yeah, I know, baby." He's taunting you, every syllable smug, condescending. "This pussy missed me so much, huh?" His hand tightens on your wrists until your skin burns, the other hand finding its way around your thigh, pulling you closer to him. "Fuckin' lost without me. S'all it's good for, isn't it? Taking my cock."
You groan, shaking your head in defiance, but even that feels like a lie. You hate him. You want him. You hate yourself for wanting him.
"No?" His fingers inch toward your clit, ghosting over it—you squeal, hips jerking for more. "Maybe we should call this off then?"
You blink once and his fingers are gone—wrenching a whine out of you, pathetic as you push your ass back against him, shame burning through you as you shake your head. Fuck him. Curse him. But you need him inside you, need him to fill the aching void that gnaws at you.
"That's my slut," he growls, and before you can process the words, he's inside you—one long, brutal thrust that spears you open, the stretch burning deep. The sting mixes with shock of his fingers returning to your clit, rubbing circles that make your knees buckle. "You know you're the only girl I've fucked raw? This pussy will always be mine."
He's fucking insane. Completely insane. And the worst part is, you're just as insane for wanting him. For needing him. You can't fight it. You don't even want to. Not now. Not when his voice drips like poison and he's tearing you apart in the only way you understand.
"Mmmf—" you groan into the tie and he's matching you, his teeth grazing your shoulder, marking you in ways that will last for days.
"I hope it hurts," he grumbles against your skin, his breath ragged. He's lying, you can feel it in the way his fingers are moving, coaxing you to cum, even as he pretends to wish you pain. "I hope it fucking stings."
Your hands ball into fists, trapped in his grip, and you imagine clawing at his back until you draw blood, sinking your nails in until he feels every ounce of your anger.
"I want you to feel it—fuck—I want you to remember this," he pants, his voice barely more than a growl as your climax crashes toward you, unstoppable now. "Remember how weak I make you. How much of a slut you are for me."
Another harsh thrust and then, you're there—falling into the void—pleasure is so strong it bleeds out of you, forcing your cunt to clamp tight around him, legs trembling, barely able to support you through it. Mattheo’s curses slip through clenched teeth, but this only fuels him—his rhythm picks up, brutal, hips slamming against your ass with a pace that borders on unhinged.
"Fuck. Oh, fuck." The words are barely audible, grunted against the shell of your ear. You're whining, still twitching with aftershocks, but he doesn't care. His hands are on your hips now, fingers digging deep as he thrusts you forward, slamming you over the desk. The wood bites into your palms as you try to brace yourself, but his anger is palpable, drilling into you— "you wanna bitch at me now?"
The moan you release is automatic, instinctual. You can't stop it. Can't control it. His fingers curl around your throat, shifting the tie down to shove two into your mouth.
"Hhhhh—" you're trying to form words around his fingers, but it's impossible. The garbled sound is pathetic, but he knows exactly what you're trying to say.
"You hate me. I know." It’s smug, punctuated by a sharp smack to your ass, the sting of it making you yelp. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, wiping the spit across your cheek before he grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn, to meet his eyes. "Open your mouth."
There's no time to process the demand. His eyes are molten, crazed, filled with something raw and uncontainable. His next thrust is punishing, slamming into your cervix, making you sob—your mouth parting just enough—
He leans in close, and then he spits into your mouth.
"Swallow it." His fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing the order into your bones. "Be a good girl for once."
You choke out a laugh, even as you're panting, even as he's splitting you stupid.
"Never." The word barely leaves your lips before you’re spitting back at him—your entwined saliva landing across his chin and lips.
For a second, you expect the worst—you brace yourself for the retaliation—the slap, the insult, the way he'll tighten his grip and take back control. But to your surprise, instead of anger, there's a grin—wide and feral, big and crazed enough to reach his eyes.
You smile back. His cock twitches inside you.
"Fuck me," he mutters, then crashes his mouth to yours.
You taste the salt and bitterness of mingled spit, a mess of his and yours, and it pulls a moan from somewhere deep inside you. He devours it, greedy, his hips growing erratic, sloppy as his high nears.
His hand drops to your clit, fingers pressing with a precision that obliterates every last shred of sanity—and it takes only moments before the pressure builds again, fast and furious. Your third orgasm rips you apart, your body clenching tight, muscles seizing as you're lost in it. You're not sure where you end and he begins—your breath congealing with his, your moans swallowed in the space between you.
His release follows right after, crashing over him as he buries himself deep, spilling into you with a groan that reverberates through your bones. You hate the way it feels. You hate the way he fills you. But you also can't deny the twisted satisfaction of it—the way you sought this punishment, needed it. The shame consumes you, but it's comforting in its familiarity.
He pulls out, and the silence between you is easy, broken only by your ragged breathing. The room feels impossibly small now, your body still thrumming with the aftermath, but the moment is over. You both start to move—piecing yourselves back together, pulling clothes into place, avoiding the weight of what just happened.
You don't understand how it came to this, how it always does, but you're not surprised. Not anymore.
After a long, silent moment, he looks at you. “I don’t regret what I did.”
You know he doesn’t.
“I know.”
He blinks. “I won’t apologize for it.”
You know he won’t.
“I know.”
He nods, now, a smirk on his lips as he watches you fix your skirt. You note the hair sticking to his forehead, how he’s still catching his breath even though he’s pretending he isn’t.
“You aren’t mad.” An observation.
“I’m not.” You reply. You know you should be, but the relief you felt when that Ravenclaw ended things tells you everything you need to know. “Just, never do it again.”
He nods again. “Sure.”
You’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean that—but, at least now, as you glance over at him, there's a small comfort in knowing you no longer want to kill him.
2K notes · View notes
cathnospam · 21 days ago
Text
Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3
Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???
“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”
“9”
“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“
“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”
“I like breathing.”
“So.”
Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“
“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”
Tumblr media
“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”
“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”
“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”
“What did you call me—“
“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”
The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.
Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.
“I…moaned your name too.”
“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”
“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”
Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”
“What?”
“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”
“That CANNOT be the reason—“
“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ��em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”
“…well.”
“Well what.” He pouts.”
“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”
Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”
“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.
“Does your partner have any no’s during?”
“I’m not calling you a bitch.”
“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”
“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“
“You called me your slut yesterday.”
“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”
“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”
You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.
“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”
“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.
“Nobody else.”
“Hm?”
“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”
Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”
Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“
“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.
Little did you know it was the same for him with you.
“Anything else?”
“I won’t do race or age play.”
“What the hell…?—-“
“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“
“WHAT?”
You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”
Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”
“Take my laptop away from me.”
He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.
“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”
Damn it.
He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“
“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”
Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.
Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.
“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”
“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”
“You’re ganna be pissed.”
Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”
“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”
It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —
“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”
“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”
“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“
“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”
“You want to be overstimulated.”
What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.
“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”
In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.
“So the next question…”
“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”
“….y’can.”
It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.
What’s the worse that can happen?
979 notes · View notes
moremaybank · 1 month ago
Note
Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.
dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍
Tumblr media
jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.
avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."
"hi, daddy!"
he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.
"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."
she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.
"hey, daddy?"
"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.
"what colours do boys like best?"
he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"
"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"
"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."
an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."
the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.
"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."
jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.
"what're you smilin' about?"
"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."
he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."
˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.
"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.
"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"
"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."
neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.
kyle? who the fuck was kyle?
"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"
"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."
this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.
"what?!"
something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.
"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"
"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.
just like her daddy.
"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"
"j—" you interject.
"nah. nope. no way."
"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.
deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."
"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."
you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."
he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.
"that's different. i was a nice boy."
you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."
she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.
jj thinks he's having a stroke.
"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"
avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.
"don't be mad, daddy."
"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"
"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."
and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.
"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.
your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."
"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."
you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"
his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"
"oh, i think i am."
Tumblr media
concepts ; concepts (ii)
603 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 20 days ago
Note
thinking of how rafe wouldn’t want you to work while pregnant
that man would be so stressed, since day one!! and bartender!reader would noooot give him a break, still covering bartending shifts even tho she was the manager bc she simply enjoyed doing it every once in a while. and he's like ?????? will you sit your ass down PLEASE. but you're not listening, if there's ONE thing the pregnancy hormones gave you was extra attitude. somethin' along these lines:
rafe could feel his jaw clenching as he watched you across the room, rolling your eyes for the third time in the past five minutes. you were doing it on purpose now, deliberately ignoring him while standing behind the bar, mixing drinks like you weren’t six months pregnant.
the bartender had called in sick, and you, the manager, jumped in and covered for him. rafe crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, and tried not to look too annoyed, but fuck if it wasn’t hard.
you still had that spark in you, that independence that drew him in from the start, but now? now it just made him worry.
worry like he never thought he could.
“you’re really gonna give me a heart attack, y’know that?” he called out, his voice carrying over the chatter around the country club.
most people were too busy with their drinks and golf gossip to notice you two bickering, but anyone paying attention could see that familiar dynamic. you doing whatever you damn well pleased, him trying to keep his cool, which he never really could when it came to you putting yourself at risk.
you glanced at him over your shoulder, hands moving like second nature as you garnished a drink. “’m fine, baby” you told him, voice just as breezy as ever, like the huge bump pressing against your shirt was nothing more than an accessory. “it’s just a couple hours.”
there was that old habit of yours—acting like everything was fine when you clearly weren’t. or maybe you were, but that wasn’t the point.
the point was, you shouldn’t have to be there.
“you say that, but i know you’re gonna be hurting later,” he muttered, pushing off the counter and walking around to your side of the bar.
his hand landed gently on your waist, thumb brushing the small of your back like he always did when he wanted to get you to stop for just a second.
“c’mon, baby. just take a break, you don’t need to be on your feet like this.”
it wasn’t that you didn’t want help—you’d worked through that over the past couple years—but that stubborn streak was still there.
“’m not some porcelain doll,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes again, “’m not gonna drop dead because i’m pregnant.”
he felt his stomach drop when those words left your mouth. "jesus christ, woman," he muttered, his eyes widening in exasperation. "don’t say that shit.”
“alright, my bad,” you gave in, “didn’t mean it like that.”
rafe sighed, his hand still resting on you. he hated when you talked like that, like you had to remind him how capable you were. of course he knew. 
"promise me you're taking a leave starting tomorrow," he practically begged you despite attempting to sound firm, but that undertone of worry had been his constant companion ever since you'd found out you were pregnant. 
"next week," you sang back, not even looking up from the drink you were finishing. 
you were still in work mode, determined to keep things running smoothly despite the fact you should’ve been at home, resting.
"tomorrow," he insisted, leaning in closer, his voice softening but no less serious.
you turned to face him, eyes narrowing. "next week, or you’re not getting sex for the next three months. now get outta my bar.”
rafe blinked, his jaw going slack as he stared at you, completely blindsided. 
“what—"
“go on,” you gestured toward the other side of the counter with a flick of your hand, “out.”
his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, like a fish. he was processing, but slowly.
"but… baby," he whined, his voice dipping into a tone that could only be described as kicked puppy. “just—wanna make sure you’re okay. that you’re safe, and you’re not overdoing it. you can’t kick me out, i need to be around you.”
you gave him that look, the one that told him he was pushing his luck. "rafe, i swear to god—”
he let out a long, dramatic sigh, but started to back off, lifting his hands in surrender.
"alright, alright, ‘m going," he grunted, dragging his feet toward the exit like a kid being told to go to bed. but before he did go, he turned back one more time, his eyes pleading. "i’ll be outside if you need me."
"of course you will," you muttered, shaking your head with a half-smile. you knew he wasn’t going far, probably just far enough to hover and peek through the windows, pretending to give you space but unable to help himself.
"i love you, stop spiraling," you called out after him.
he paused, turning back to look at you, his expression softening.  
“love you too.”
740 notes · View notes
darnell-la · 3 months ago
Note
Please I need more “drive-by sniffing” It’s so funny to me but also I’m into it
Tumblr media
warnings: jealousy, hiding keys, sniff-by (drive by sniffing), lying, teasing, trapping, kissing, carrying, oral (fem receiving), etc.
note: perv!logan???? FUCKIN’ HELL.
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!
———
“They’re just a friend, Wade” y/n sighed as Wade kept complaining about where and why she was going. She was trying to find her keys and he knew for a fact he took them.
“Where are they, Wade? I told you I was leaving before I took a shower and now they’re off the kitchen counter so — Where are they!?” Y/n yelled at the man, making Logan choke on his beer.
“I don’t know, peanuts. Maybe it’s lost up your ass,” Wade shrugged as he got up and slipped his shoes on. “Shame on you for leaving mister I have no life and I hate everyone and everything, over there. Maybe you couldn’t take him on a date,”
“It’s not a date!” She yelled at the man, knowing this might be, but it was none of his business. “Yeah, sure it’s not, but since it’s so not a date, why not take Grandpa with you? He hasn’t seen the sun in a while,” Wade whispered.
Before y/n could say anything, he left, shutting the door hard and singing as he skipped down the hall, ready to go see Vanessa. “Dick shit,” said under her breath.
“Language, young lady,” Logan chuckled as he took a sip of his ninth beer. “Who are you? The god of prohibited language?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the man before she continued her search for her car keys.
“Lookin’ for these, bub?” Logan’s voice spoke after a few minutes of silence. She wanted to ignore him, but once she heard her keys jingle, her head snapped towards him.
“Bro, you had it the whole time!?” Y/n wanted to yell at the man, but he was Wade’s guest. Y/n only stayed here at times when it got too late for her to drive home. He’s somehow friends with her elders and he needed a “full-time babysitter for his dog” that he had just picked up and left with.
Her parents and grandparents insisted she didn’t help Deadpool and Dogpool. They were all big fans, but y/n wasn’t planning on working for him.
Wade had something behind what he was doing after y/n served him his food at bingo night. She was young but not too young, pretty, went to college, and was hard to deal with. Right up Logan’s alley, but did Wade tell him his secret evil plan? No.
“Yeah, because you’re lying,” Logan put the keys back in his pocket after she came over to him to take back what was hers. “What? Bro, give me my keys,” y/n was annoyed.
“You are going on a date, ain’t ya?” He asked. She could do all the washing she wanted, but he could still smell her. “No, for the love of god. Can you guys stop asking me that shit? It’s annoying!”
“Last time I checked, it only takes you ten minutes to shower, not thirty,” y/n was surprised he paid attention to her shower times. She’s only been in and out of Wade’s shared apartment for a couple of months.
“Your point is?” She asked, knowing he wasn’t dumb, but she hoped he’d give up. “I don’t know, you tell me,” he got up, now towering over her. Her neck ached from the sudden new angle she had to look at him.
“I can smell you, you know,” Logan admitted. “What do you mean?” She genuinely asked. “I can smell you leaking. It’s hard to miss when you smell like that every time you leave to meet up with your friends,”
She wanted to call out his perverted activities but had nothing to say. He was old, but she wasn’t a minor, so what could she say to make him feel uncomfortable for invading her privacy.
“How good is he? Seems like he fucks good if you’re soaked right before you leave,” Logan had y/n cornered on the wall. She didn’t know she was backing up that much until she had nowhere else to go.
“How about you let me meet him. Lemme watch how he fucks you so I can show you better,” his hot breath blew on her face. He was so close and intimidating. Where did all of this come from?
“Sometimes I can smell him on you. I hate it so much, you know why, bub?” Logan asked as his finger cupped her chin. Y/n softly shook her head. “Because I can do better,”
Before she knew it, his lips were all over her, barely letting her process before his tongue slipped into her mouth.
Usually, she found that nasty, hating the sloppy kisses, but this time — Fuck, it felt so nice.
Y/n kissed back, whines escaping her mouth as she now felt needy. She was already turned on, knowing she was going to meet her boy toy tonight, but Logan seemed better. He was always the better choice.
“Greedy slut,” the man spat, sounding angry, but she knew that’s how they talked when they were turned on. She could feel his hard on through his jeans. He was grinding up and down her body like a pole.
“Always leavin’ to fuck another man, like I’m not here, baby. I don’t like that disrespect,” Logan pulled the girl off of the wall and now carried her to his room that they sometimes shared.
Wade’s apartment is a two-bedroom, so if she slept over, she’d sleep on Logan’s bed, and he’d sleep on the small couch in the room.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t sleep better when she was right across from him. He’d also be lying if he said he would switch the sheets because he loved her smell.
He never did anything like this back where he was, but something after that fight made him switch. He was turning into a small pervert for a young lady in who’s barely the legal drinking age.
“Smellin’ like candy,” Logan sniffed, loving the new lotion she had bought a few days ago. “Gonna go through all that work when I take you on a date?” He asked as he slowly took the girl's clothes off. “Maybe,” she shyly said, surprised he wasn’t thinking about this as a one-night stand.
“Doesn’t matter, bub — Ima still eat that pussy till you cry,” he said as he spread the girl's legs. She felt so smooth. She was ready for him, not that dickhead she was getting ready to meet.
Logan slowly slicked up the girl's slit, taking in how close he is to her smell. All the days of smelling her getting ready for another man, just for her to get pulled back for him.
“Bet this cunts sweet,” the man said before diving in for a few seconds. Her mom got stuck in her throat. That was amazing, and he had more.
“Sure fuckin’ is,” Logan quickly went back in, arms wrapping around and thighs to pull her into his face. He wanted to suffocate in between her thighs.
730 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months ago
Text
baby shoes
Tumblr media
words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?
rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.
“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”
you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.
“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.
“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.
“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”
rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.
you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.
--
look how cute this baby is rafey
“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”
“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.
“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.
you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”
“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.
“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”
“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.
“okay, true.” 
--
“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.
“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 
rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 
“what are you wearing?”
“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.
“why would you want that?” rafe questions.
“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”
rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.
“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.
-- 
“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.
“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.
“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.
“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.
“it can be.” rafe shrugs.
“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.
“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.
“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.
what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.
“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.
“you would?”
“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”
“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.
“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.
“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.
“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.
“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”
he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.
“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.
“tell me!” you complain again.
“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”
you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.
“i-i-” you stammer.
“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”
“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.
“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”
“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.
“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”
“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”
you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.
he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.
“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.
“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.
“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.
rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.
“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”
you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.
“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.
“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.
rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.
you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.
“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.
“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.
rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.
“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.
“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”
its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.
“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.
“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.
“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.
your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.
--
“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.
“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 
“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.
“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.
“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.
“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.
“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @soilderpoetandking @auryyz
2K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 1 year ago
Note
Need sukuna in racer au 😩
REWARDS FROM A RACER
a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl
wc: 2.1k
warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 
“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.
if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.
but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.
it was the only race he ever lost.
“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”
you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”
“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?
“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”
you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”
sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.
“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.
across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.
“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.
sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”
you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”
and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.
with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.
“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”
beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.
and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.
sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.
“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”
“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.
sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.
“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 
“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.
“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.
“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.
“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”
you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.
“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.
“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.
so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”
“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.
“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.
“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
l13 · 1 year ago
Text
spiderverse twt links part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
WARNINGS : NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, f!reader, the links are literally p#rn, proceed at your own risk
CHARACTERS: miguel o'hara, peter b parker, hobie brown, the spot, spider noir, webslinger
Tumblr media
miguel
♡ miguel playing with your pussy as he sucks on your tits- getting you ready to take his cock, like the good girl you are<3
♡ this is for that one anon that sent me a hc about miguel getting pissed af if he caught you using one of your toys- ((I SAW IT AND IT WAS AMAZING I'VE WROTE SMTH BUT IT'S BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A WEEK i can't seem to like it no matter how much i edit it but have this<333)) Miguel who then proceeds to snatch the toy from your grasp, muttering how you can't even come even with that. "S good right? Better than me?" "Noo, never- never better than you- oh please baby-" "That's fucking right."
bonus
♡ miguel punishing you when you arrive home after you talking shit all day- purposefully disagreeing on anything he says- even in mission briefs. makes sure to fuck you stupid just to remind you not to pull that shit again<3 "Acting like such a fucking bitch all day- fuck. Just needed my cock that bad, huh? Say it,"
peter
♡ peter whimpering pathetically once he starts cumming- moaning when you don't stop jerking his cock, and he's thrashing around, hips never stopping their little jumps as he whines prettily "I can't anymore- h please ffuckkkk, I ca-aan't," voice cracking as he sobs for you
♡ pussydrunk!peter that starts fucking you like an absolute madman, literally not able to stop thrusting inside of you even after he's cum two times already, his eyes are hazy, can barely focus on anything but he still grabs you by the hair to pull you against him almost harshly, panting hard as he somehow keeps fucking his cock back inside your drenched pussy
♡ peter laying flush against your back, humping you, thrusting his cock inside you till he's crying with you- whimpering and moaning from the way your pretty pussy feels around his cock
hobie
♡ hobie definitely wakes you up in the middle of the night if he can't sleep- pulls your panties to the side and makes you ride him, watching with a hand behind his head as you bounce your ass on his cock- thrusting his hips up to meet the rolls of your hips as he sighs, "Fuck- think I'll be wakin' you up every God damn night, baby.." "Yeah do it- fuckin' make me cum-"
♡ hobie losing his FUCKING mind when he sees you hold your folds open for him- giving him the perfect view of his cock entering your pussy again and again-
♡ no bccc. NO BECAUSEEEEEEE. tell me why he'd do this. he'd def dry hump you till you're both moaning against each other's mouths before he'd fuck you, refusing to remove his underwear from before- saying he likes looking at them all stained with your juices as you bounce up and down his cock<3
spider noir
♡ tw!!!somno noir loving seeing you wear tights/stockings, and absolutely loses his mind when he sees you laying like that on the couch- skirt bundled up on the floor, you'd probably taken it off right before laying down, and fuck- it's so fucked up that he's doing this but he can't help himself as he takes his cock out, slapping it against your ass two-three times before he starts jerking it, slowly, "So pretty for me honey.. 'nd you don't even know it," "Fuck- sorry- I'm sorry- I can't stop, can't fuckin' stop-"
♡ noir letting you control the pace for once as he leans back, supporting his weight with his palms on the mattress as you bounce your ass on his cock vigorously- and he's grunting, muttering praises, until he gets greedy and grabs you by the hips to thrust inside you with a new-found passion, "Did so well for me, such a good girl- unh-" "I'll fuck you so well, don't you worry-" "Won't be able to fuckin' walk tomorrow, honey."
♡ feel like noir would be used to more 'old fashioned' shit so when he met you, he'd become 10x times more freaky- that includes cumming on your face 🤭 he'd be reluctant at first- "Why waste it? You're tellin' me you don't want it in your pussy, hm?" but then he actually does it one time and becomes OBSESSED, "God fucking- I'm gonna cum-" "Where d'you want it sweetie," "Yeah? Ffuck yes- gonna paint your pretty face with my cum-"
the spot
♡ we've established that spot is a certified pussy eater, even without a mouth he'd find a fucking way- he'd just push your cunt into his face hole, and lap at your pussy greedily- moaning as he did so
♡ tw!! pegging jonathon? OH MY GODDDDDDDD and he's moaning so good for you too<3
♡ spot unable to stop pushing his hips back into your hand as you finger one of his holes- the feeling bringing tears into his eyes as he cries out for you<33
♡ him nearly YELLING when he comes inside you- moaning loudly as he pumps you full of his cum<3
webslinger
♡ tw!! breeding kink "Legs up f'me darlin'.... just like that," thrusts into you relentlessly, head thrown back as he literally cannot handle how good your pussy feels around his cock, and he grunts as he pulls out, jerking his cock, his hand shaking, "Can't cum inside you huh, pretty? Can't get you pregnant- not yet-"
♡ him finally slipping and coming inside you- moaning with his eyes rolled back as he feels your cunt sucking him in- "Ah shit- m sorry darlin' I couldn't hold m'self back.."
♡ him pounding you from the back and then suddenly deciding that he wants to watch you ride him instead- (save a horse, ride a cowboy), absolutely looooves watching your face contort in pleasure, your tits bouncing as you guide yourself up and down his cock<3
Tumblr media
6K notes · View notes
angelyuji · 2 months ago
Text
stan pines dating headcanons
18+ minors dni!!
cw // sexual content under the cut!
MY LOVE
he is sooo my man i need him so bad
very old fashioned
asked you out first not cuz he thinks he’s the hottest guy in the world. but because “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”
he told dipper and mabel he made that up first (he didn’t, he saw it on facebook) (they know he didn’t make it up, but they pretend they believe him)
“heya there, toots.” stan leans on your desk. you look at him, an eyebrow raised.
“hey, stan. need something?” you smile at him.
“yeah, you. me. date. whenever you’re free.” stan looks away, suddenly nervous.
“hmm, yeah, alright! i’m free tonight after work.” stan looks back at you, eyes wide in surprise, before collecting himself. he smiles.
“great, great, i’ll pick you up at 8, dollface.”
calls you pet names that were popular in the 70s/80s: dollface, sweetcheeks, baby, cutie, sugar
stan believes you deserve the world so he yk he’s treating you soooo well
he doesn’t think he deserves you, so he tries so so so hard to treat you well
he believes he’s fucked up every good thing in his life, so when you guys get together, he tries so hard to be a good partner to you
takes you out anywhere you want, even if its something he hates.
you tell him you want to see some movie in theaters, he’s gonna say no and be huffy cuz he’d rather stay home and save money. but the next day he’s gonna show up at your door with the tickets, rolling his eyes, telling you to get in the car
takes you with him to break laws and steal stuff with him
you’re a total nervous wreck but stan’s laughing and holding your hand and you know that everything’s gonna turn out alright.
he buys you clothes sometimes but he’s not up with fashion, so not usually.
any time he does, its usually because he took mabel shopping and he saw something that he thought you would like
more of a listener than a yapper like he’ll listen to you go on and on about something without stopping. you’re his personal podcast. he also loves when you watch his soap operas with him
hehehe im gonna fuck this old man so hard he’s gonna stop breaking traffic laws
sooo smooth and flirty, but he gets over obviously red in the face and its cute asf
he was kinda insecure about his body at first, but seeing how obsessed you are with him when you guys sleep together, he’s all like “heh, i still got it” and he smirks cuz he’s a little shit
likes to be on top, call him old-fashioned, but he likes looking down at you and seeing your face as he makes you feel good
he’s a man of routine, however you can convince him to do different positions or things in the bedroom because at the end of the day, you’re his everything
he goes slow, doesn’t go crazy and jackhammer into you
last time he went too fast, he threw his back out and you had to run through the shack butt-naked looking for his lumbar support pillow
he doesn’t like to talk about it, it was super embarrassing for the both of you lowkey
you were sweet about it tho, i mean, he is in his 70s and you found it sweet he almost destroyed his back to make you feel good
absolutely lovessss receiving head
he’s alsooo a giver dw, certified muncher??? or wtv they say, but he personally likes getting more
anyway back to the cutesy stuff
sometimes he asks you to help him build some stuff for the shack
you get to see stan be creative and create art, as well as fix stuff around the shack (if soos isn’t around)
a lot of duct tape related fixing, but watching him work is hot so u don’t care
i love u stanley pines i need u so bad pls pls pls ruin my life
980 notes · View notes
daycourtofficial · 10 months ago
Text
I’m Still Stuck in the Moment
Summary: a mistake on a mission causes you to lose your memories from the last five years, including the new mating bond between you and Azriel. Can he help you get your memories back, or will you never remember the past five years?
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Author’s note: this has been a wip since October I really hope you guys like it. It’s also my longest fic to date - so please enjoy! 💕
“Stealth missions are so boring,” Cassian states from behind you.
“Maybe that’s why you usually don’t get assigned on stealth missions, dummy,” you reply while looking through the desk drawers.
“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. Sometimes Azriel talks and I just tune him out.” Cassian mimes with his hands a talking motion and rolls his eyes.
“Cassian, why are you even on this mission if you don’t know what we’re looking for and you don’t like stealth missions?” You ask not looking up at him as you search through the papers on the desk.
“Hmm,” he says, pretending to search through the papers as he drops his voice, “it’s been a while since we’ve hung out the two of us.”
You pause and turn to look at him, a big grin overtaking your face.
“You missed me,” you say, delight coating your voice.
“No, I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words,” he says, pretending to be annoyed, going to search a different part of the room.
You had been a part of the inner circle for about three years when the mating bond snapped into place. All throughout those three years Cassian did everything he could think of to put you and Azriel together. He’d constantly ask you two to dinner and be ‘sick’ and then magically be okay the next day. He’d force you two to sit next to each other during every dinner, solstice, lunch, breakfast, meeting. Any event where you had to sit down, you had to sit next to each other. Anytime you had to be flown somewhere, Cassian would mysteriously have flown away, leaving Azriel to fly you. The cauldron works hard, but Cassian works harder.
No one else could figure out Cassian’s borderline obsession with the two of you. Whenever Rhys or Feyre or anyone would ask him, he’d simply shrug and say “I have a hunch” or, if he was feeling particularly chatty, “I think they’d have stunning children”.
The truth was Cassian loved the both of you so much that he wanted to see you two happy. He also knew there was something between the two of you, he just didn’t know what. He was there the day you and Azriel were introduced, and he felt something. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel someone else’s mating bond, but he could feel the potential between you two.
You laugh as you continue rifling through the desk. “You know Cassian if you want to spend time together all you had to do was ask-“
You’re cut off by a cloud of pink dust coming out of a drawer you opened and covering your face. You start coughing and backing away.
“Shit,” Cassian says, coming over to you. He starts looking you over, assessing for damage.
“I’m fine,” you say, in between coughs, “dusty old drawer.”
Cassian looks skeptical. “Yes, because pink dust is so common.”
You roll your eyes. “We’ve searched the room, there’s nothing here. Let’s go home.”
The mission debrief was short - not much to report. The two of you searched an abandoned outpost, seeing if anything of interest was left behind, finding nothing of value or interest.
You enjoyed stealth missions, but you especially loved coming home to your overly protective mate. You two had a tradition - your own personal debrief, where Azriel would inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury. Wherever you were injured, whether it be bruise, scrap, or cut, he would place long kisses on the spot.
“Better than a healer,” he’d say.
The length of the mission would determine how long the two of you stayed locked up in each other. You two usually spent double the length of the mission together uninterrupted.
Once, after a four day long mission, no one had seen either of you for a week. Rhys had to send a telepathic message to find proof of life from either of you.
That night, Azriel checked your wounds, which you’re not even sure you had any. You considered even “accidentally” cutting your finger, but decided against it.
-
You woke up to a dark room, feeling a heavy presence wrapped around you. Whoever it was was massive, incredibly warm, and had quite the grip on you.
You’re not crazy about casual flings, but it’s not too unheard of, especially considering you spent last night drinking with Cassian and Mor at Rita’s. Mor loved playing matchmaker with you, trying to set you up with the most eligible males she could find.
You look around the room, the realization of being naked hitting you. You spot a pile of clothes on the floor and gently lift the arm off of you and slip out from under the male. You grab the clothes, putting the shirt on first. It seems to be the mystery male’s - it’s incredibly long on you, smelling of pine and mist.
“Going somewhere?” the male asks, rising up from the bed to meet you where you stand.
“Yes, I’m uh I’m so sorry but I don’t remember getting here, so I’m just going to head home.” You say, walking backwards towards the door. As the male comes closer, you recognize him.
“Azriel?” You ask.
“Yes, who else would I be?” Azriel replies, a hint of confusion dancing in his eyes, “come back to bed, you’re probably just confused after a dream.”
“Uh, wow, um I-“ you dart your eyes around the room “I’m so sorry but I don’t remember how I got here, let me go back to my room.”
He stops, all signs of playfulness gone. “You don’t have a room. This is your room. This is our room.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sweetheart, you moved into my room a few years ago. Your room is just another guest room now.”
You blush at the nickname. Despite your best efforts, he had hardly said much to you in the time you’ve known him. Despite the nickname, the weight of his words starts to settle on you.
“Um, no I have a room here. This isn’t a very good joke, Az.” You say, opening the door to go to your room across the hall. Your feet carry you to your room, your hand resting on the knob as Azriel reaches for you, calling for you. You’re not sure why there’s such confusion in his tone. You open the door to what used to be your room, only to find it devoid of any signs you had lived in it.
The room looked like it had the day you moved in, sans the welcome basket Feyre and Rhys had assembled for you and left on the bed. The blue barren walls stare back at you, the four poster bed neatly made.
No hearth in the fire, no books on the nightstand, no flowers on the desk. Even your beloved stuffed wolf that Cassian teased you about was nowhere to be seen.
“Azriel, where is my stuff?”
Azriel stares at you, in utter shock and disbelief. He grabs your hand, leading you through the house. You’re forced to follow him, due to both his tight but gentle grip on you and your curiosity at where all of your things went. The sounds of his footsteps echo through the hall, a level of noise you’ve never heard from him. Usually he glides through these halls, not a trace of noise made to alert anyone of his presence.
“Azriel, what’s wrong?” You keep asking, and he won’t reply until you’re face to face with Rhys’s bedroom door, where Azriel starts banging fiercely on it.
Cassian is the first to poke his head out, his door down the hall from Rhys’s. Once he sees Azriel is the one causing all the commotion, he comes out into the hall, looking around for any unseen threats.
Rhys opens the door, a pair of sweatpants hastily put on as he allows the three of you entry. You assume Rhys had the same reaction to Cassian, annoyance quickly changing to concern at Azriel’s tone.
You assume that Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre are all communicating telepathically because it is dead silent in the room until Feyre comes up and tells you to have a seat in one of their chairs by the fire.
“Okay, now tell me, what happened?” Rhys asked, putting his hands on your shoulders in reassurance.
“Well I um think I’m missing a few pieces but uh last night I went to Rita’s with Cassian and Mor, I got pretty drunk, and I woke up naked in Azriel’s room. I woke up, I tried to leave, only to find out my room is gone.”
Cassian looks at you, concern etching his face, “we went to Rita’s?” He asks, pointing a finger between you and him.
“Yeah,” you say, “you had been out to see Devlen and when you came back you asked if Mor and I wanted to go out with you. No one else was here.” You look to Feyre and Rhys, becoming even more confused. “Why are you guys all back so early?”
“What do you mean “back early”?”
“Well, Azriel had some mission on the continent, and Feyre and Rhys were visiting the summer court with Amren.”
“Mother help us,” Cassian muttered, as he realized his error, dragging a hand across his face. “On our mission yesterday, she breathed in an unknown powder. It had slipped my mind, she seemed so fine, I didn’t think anything of it.”
You could feel the anger vibrating off of Azriel as he turned to Cassian, spitting “What do you mean you didn’t think anything of it? You didn’t think anything of my mate on your mission?”
Azriel’s words don’t register with you as you were too focused on Cassian’s. “But I didn’t go on any missions yesterday. I spent the day at the library, doing research. Cassian found me, asked me to go to Rita’s, and I told him I’d pay for all of his drinks if he went down to the bottom level of the library.”
“Oh, Mother.” Cassian muttered. “Let’s stop for a moment.” Rhys said, crouching in front of you. His violet eyes shone with kindness and concern as he tells you, “Feyre and I went to the summer court with Amren five years ago.”
“That’s not possible” you scoff, “you guys just left three days ago.”
You look towards Azriel, his usual stoicism a thing of comfort in times like this. Instead you’re met with deep despair as he looks back at you, and somehow you can feel that despair deep in your chest.
Rhys moves away from you as Azriel walks towards you and crouches down in front of you, looking at you like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hands, “Sweetheart,” he starts, “what am I to you?”
Your cheeks flare with heat. You start stammering, his gaze overwhelming. He wants some specific answer, this you know. His gaze is piercing and you can’t look away.
“When we were in the summer court,” Feyre starts musing, “that was… before, right?”
“Before what?” You ask, while Azriel nods his head, confirming Feyre’s question.
The room has grown silent again, before Azriel takes your hands and says “before we became mates.”
Your cheeks are on fire now, wishing you could be having this conversation in private, instead of in front of your family.
“Wait, is that why you came back early? You realized we were mates when you were on the continent?” You whisper the last part as of it’s a secret.
As if Azriel’s face couldn’t show you anymore devastation, he replies, “Sweetheart, we’ve been mated for two years.”
You couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I’m sorry,” you say, “have you been keeping it from me for two years? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rhys steps in, sparing Azriel the pain of further explaining this to you, “you two have been mates for two years. The war with Hybern is over.”
You look into everyone’s eyes, trying to find a trace of humor, “this isn’t a funny joke, it’s quite cruel.”
“No one is joking,” Cassian says. You stand up, beginning to pace the room.
“No no no, you have to be, because either Mor thought this would be a funny joke because of my crush on Azriel or I’ve forgotten the last five years of my life, including getting a mate and surviving the war.”
You look around the room, everyone looking at either you or Azriel, not a trace of humor in the room.
“This has to be a joke because how cruel would it be for Azriel to find a mate just for them to forget everything about him. Five years! Five years of my life are gone! Up to this point in time, Azriel has said maybe five words to me!”
You are hyperventilating by this point, pacing the room, shaking.
“Rhys,” Azriel says, “please.”
Rhys envelops you in a hug, and everything goes dark for you as you slump into his arms. He picks you up, gently laying you on their couch, draping a blanket over you.
Everyone in the room is just staring at you, praying for you to just jump up and tell them this was all a joke. Azriel just sits on the floor next to you, holding your hand, tears streaming down his face.
“I-“ he starts saying quietly, “I-uh I always wondered how the Cauldron would make me suffer for making her my mate. I always knew it would take her away from me in the end, but not like this. I never could have dreamt of this outcome. I never.. never could have imagined how painful it’d be to see her forget me.”
No one is dry-eyed. Everyone is devastated for you, but especially for Azriel. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys leave the bedroom, allowing Azriel to stay with you while Rhys keeps you under. They all head to Rhys’ study.
“There is some good news in this.”
Cassian and Feyre snap their heads to look at him, urging him to continue.
“When I was in her mind to sedate her, I could tell she still had memories of the past five years. Some of them were memories so ingrained to her that she has no idea what they are. Another thing is that I could tell the memories were there, they’re just… locked up.”
“Locked up? Like a prisoner?” Feyre asks.
“Yes,” Rhys replies, “like a prisoner.”
“So this powder is keeping her memories hostage?”
He sighs, looking towards the door, thinking about his brother’s face. “It would appear that way.”
Madja was called to look over you in your unconscious state, and after she found nothing wrong, they decided to wake you back up.
While you were unconscious, they decided that Mor and Cassian would watch over you unless you ask otherwise. Rhys wakes you up gently, asking if you need anything. After you decline, he leaves you alone with Mor and Cassian.
“So, um..” you start, not sure where to begin. “Five years?”
Mor nods.
“The war is over?”
Cassian smiles solemnly and nods.
“And Az and I?”
Cassian’s grin widens as he looks at you, thinking about the love you share with his brother. You play with your thumbs, unsure what to ask.
“What do you guys, uh, think of us? Do we seem happy?”
Cassian snorts while Mor replies, “oh we adore the two of you. Cassian is convinced he knew of your mating bond the day you two met.”
Cassian puffs out his chest in pride. “I most certainly knew, years before they did.”
“What made you know?” You ask, curiosity filling your eyes as you sat up.
“Well,” Cassian says, “the two of you didn’t interact much the first few years. Azriel needs time to warm up to people, and he’s worried he’ll scare people off if he comes on too strong. But I could just tell that he so desperately wanted to be your friend.”
“Hmm,” you muse, looking at Cassian in a confused way, “I always assumed he didn’t like me.”
Cassian looks at you quizzically, “and why is that?”
You sigh. “I always thought he found me… too soft. Too delicate.” You look out the window, and Cassian feels a pang of guilt. He knew Azriel could be a bit icy at times, but he hadn’t remembered what it felt like to not have that friendship.
Cassian studies you, “Why’d you think that?”
“I don’t know, it was just little things, I suppose. He’d never laugh at my jokes or talk to me much. Once you had paired us to be sparring partners and he just told you no and walked away to work with someone else.”
You remember a version of Azriel who hardly knew you. You’ve been placed in time right before Cassian started forcing you two to spend time together. For you, Azriel is practically a stranger.
Tears start rolling down your cheeks, “I don’t know him,” you say, “but it’s like my body knows him. I don’t.. know him.”
You take a deep breath, looking around the room to avoid Cassian’s sad face. “But I want him here. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the bond, but I just… want him here.”
You look down sighing, “I feel so bad that this is happening to him, he doesn’t deserve this. Even if I don’t know him.”
Cassian didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but he was wrong. Watching you cry over Azriel’s predicament but not your own gutted him. He moved to sit next to you on the couch and pulled you into his lap, letting you cry for a while.
After several hours of sitting with Mor and Cassian, Elain had recommended you get some fresh air, take a walk in the gardens. You ask if Azriel can join you, so he is staying near you, keeping an eye on you, but not too close.
You walked slowly, not sure if you wanted Azriel to catch up to you or to stay back. You felt gutted that this would happen to Azriel, despite your next to non-existent relationship with him up to this point.
The male trailed behind you, keeping the same distance in spite of your constantly changing pace. Your thoughts whirled and swirled, much like the shadows that dance around your mate. Your mate. You have a mate. And he’s here. That realization caused you to take some deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from spiraling into a panic.
Your brain can’t recall these things, but your body calls for him, wanting you to reach out and grab his hand. It is telling you that you stand on his left normally, allowing free range of motion for his dominant hand. It is telling you to let him lay on top of you, resting his head on your chest while he dozes off to nap. It is telling you to reach out and cup his jaw, that he will smile as you do so and pull you closer to him.
You don’t have memories of him, you have imprints of him, leaving whispers into your skin of how you were made for him. The yearning becomes too much and you need to hear him, so you turn to him and ask, “who did it snap for first?”
He blinks, a bit taken aback by your talking to him. He hasn’t heard you speak since the realization in Rhys’s office, much less speak to him directly. He takes longer strides, catching up to you quickly. He clears his throat and looks at you, “it snapped for me first, and I got to watch it snap for you.”
A soft smile graces his lips as he recalls the moment, so clearly in his memories he wishes he could send it directly to you. He can, he thinks, deciding that if you don’t have your memories, he’ll provide them for you.
“I bought you a locket for your birthday. A bit presumptuous, I know, but I had Feyre do a tiny portrait of myself to put in the locket. I also had a tiny piece of one of my siphons placed in the center so you could carry a piece of me everywhere.
“Your face lit up, but I was so nervous. I was trembling as I gave it to you. I almost dropped it when you asked me to clasp it around your neck. You hugged me so tightly, the locket pressing to my chest siphon and my siphon glowed.”
He smiles and reaches for your hand out of instinct, and you don’t pull away. When he notices what he’s done, he goes to retract his hand, but you clasp onto him harder.
“You had told me you would carry your loved ones in your pocket if you could and I got you the closest thing I could to that. I also had a shadow stay in the locket, they rotate who gets to be in the locket, but they like being close to you too. And in case of emergency they can slip out and find me.”
He pulls at the collar of his shirt, pulling out his own chain with a heart locket at the end. “You gave me one a week later. No siphon, but you used some of your light magic to embue a tiny stone so that it will glow forever.”
The locket looks so familiar, as if it was in a fairy tale you had read as a child. Your hand twitches, as if it wants to touch the locket. “You gave me the locket and when you saw it on my chest, your eyes lit up and I could feel you in my chest.”
You motion to a bench in the garden, and the two of you sit underneath a beautiful cherry blossom tree, its petals falling in the wind.
He moves his collar to tuck the necklace back in, pats it to his chest, then asks, “I’m guessing this is a lot to take in?”
You nod, “I mean it’s just been what five years? I have a hot mate that up until now he’s had no idea I’m hopelessly in love with him, the war is over, I missed Feyre and Rhys’s mating ceremony. It’s all sunshines and rainbows.”
He looks at you, “if it makes you feel better, they snuck out and did the ceremony in secret.”
He hears you grumble, “bastards” under your breath, making him chuckle.
“As for the hot mate who had no idea you were in love with him,” he pauses, watching your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “he was the same way.”
You gape at him, hitting him on the shoulder, “don’t tell me things just to try to make me feel better!”
He laughs, “I’m not lying!”
You scoff, “You’ve spoken to me three times! One of those times you had asked me to move.”
He looks down, “okay maybe I wasn’t great at conveying it to you, but I thought about you constantly.”
You scoff again, thumping his chest, “you did not!”
“I did so!” He replies, just as childishly as you, “I spent so much of my energy trying to keep my shadows from harassing you at all hours. They kept pulling me, trying to coerce me into rooms you were in.”
He turns to look at you, your eyes a gateway to the before.
“I thought you were so pretty when you first showed up, I forgot how to breathe.”
Your cheeks heat as you look down at the ground, Azriel’s undivided attention being too much.
You look up at him, “okay, well if you were soooo in love with me, how come you refused to spar with me?”
You cross your arms over your chest, looking at the shadowsinger next to you, unable to believe that he’s your mate.
His wings flare ever so slightly, as he quietly tells you, “because being that close to you was too much.”
You look at him quizically, not quite getting what he’s referencing.
Azriel, for all his credit, is trying to be as coy as possible. The you from the present has an absolutely filthy mouth, the dirty talk between you two could strip paint off of walls. But this version of you? It feels wrong, violating almost. You’re not some innocent doe, far from it, but the way you two speak now was built on years of trust, a foundation that doesn’t exist for the version of you he’s looking at.
He sighs, coughing as he says, “I knew if I were to get that close to you, I’d have a hard time and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you.”
You bring your hand up to your mouth, giggling. “Aww the big, scary shadowsinger is afraid he’ll get a hard on while sparring. Do you have these fears with anyone else? Cassian, perhaps?”
He laughs, the first genuine laugh since you woke up yesterday morning. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that concern with him.” He shakes his head, “but also Cassian isn’t a pretty female.”
You smile, “no, I guess not. He’s not pretty, not like you.” You clamp your mouth shut, despite knowing you’ve been seeing him for years. Parts of you know this, but other parts feel the newness, the uncertainty.
He smiles, looking at you through the side of his eye. “You think I’m pretty?” It’s a sentiment you’ve told him before, but this version of you thinking it too is fascinating.
“Oh yeah, prettiest male I’ve ever seen.” You blush, deciding to tell him everything, “I uh- I asked Mor to make sure I can always sit next to you when we go out.”
Your confession causes him to pause, something he never knew about you. “Oh?” He asks, curious about this new information.
“Yeah, once she even pushed Cassian out of a seat so I could make it in time.” You laugh, remembering the shock on his face as he laid on the ground and you quickly grabbed his seat. “I thought if I sat next to you, you’d uh- fall in love with me.” You rush out the last part, your voice going quiet.
“But uh, I actually told her to forget about it, just last night. Or whenever that was….” You trail off, remembering your current predicament.
But Azriel was stuck in the past, stuck on your latest admission. “Wait, why did you tell her to let it go?”
You sigh, picking up a dandelion out of the grass, “well, I’d try really hard to get you to notice me or talk to me, but you never did.” You pick at the petals of the flower. “I figured I was annoying you, or you hated that I was keeping other girls from being able to chat you up. So I told her to let it go.”
Azriel balks at your admission, having no idea the extent of his effect on you. “I had no idea how to talk to you! You were so pretty, especially whenever we were at Rita’s.” He sighs, remembering how he’d overanalyze how to reapond to you, only to never say anything.
“It wasn’t until… Cassian.” He pauses, trailing off. “Cassian what?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest at the slight breeze.
“Cassian told me he spent a lot of time trying to seat us next to each other, to get me to talk to you. I wonder if he… got the idea after talking to you last night about it.”
You shake your head, “no, I only told Mor that - no way he knows.”
Azriel looks at you, “And how is the biggest gossip and busybody you know?”
Your eyes widen, realization hitting you, “oh my god,” you whine. “He heard me! He heard how pathetic I am!”
Azriel rolls his eyes, but you continue, “I was so drunk! I kept talking about you - and how you smell, and your hands, and your legs, oh my god.”
Your cheeks flare in heat, and your voice drops to a whisper. “I told Mor I had a dirty dream about you the other day - in detail!”
He smirks, “and what were we doing in this dirty dream?”
Your cheeks flame tomato red, as he laughs at you. “I guarantee you, sweetheart, whatever it was, we’ve done dirtier.”
He’s always enjoyed making you flustered, but this is an opportunity to fluster past you, one he will not let go to waste.
“About that,” you start, a sheepish grin adorning the cherry red of your cheeks. “How is our sex life? Is it good?” You ask, your voice lowered.
He laughs, “we make Cassian look like a prude with the amount of sex we have.” You gasp, approval for this future version of yourself. He leans in close to your ear, and whispers, “genuinely the best sex of my life.”
You bite your lip, but he continues. “Our general rule is for every night I’m gone on a mission, when I come back I have to make you finish at least once per day I’m gone.”
He chuckles low, the memory coming to him so easily. “I was once gone for twelve nights.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. “And yes, all in one night.”
Your eyes widen, and you take a quick glimpse down towards his crotch. He watches you check him out, a smile ghosting on his lips.
You spent several days like that, most of your time spent with Azriel. You asked him about your lives together - where you two lived, what your days looked like together, what your lives with the Inner Circle looked like.
“Have I been able to convince you to take a day off?” You ask, the two of you eating at your favorite cafe in Velaris. Rhys had encouraged you to explore the city, hopeful it’s constant changing is able to jog something in you.
He smiles at you, chewing his croissant. “Actually, yes.” He says after swallowing. “We actually took a vacation to Summer during this past winter.”
You gasp, your eyes widening in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Summer! How was it? Did we see any mermaids?”
He chuckles, “no, much to your disappointment.”
You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to see a mermaid.”
He smiles at your childish antics, looking at your pouting face. He still couldn’t process it - this was you, but it wasn’t his mate. You weren’t taking a bite of his croissant for yourself, you weren’t touching his knee with yours, you weren’t making up terrible excuses to hold his hand in yours.
Looking at you was excruciating, questions plagueing his mind as he looked. Will you ever remember him? Your life together? The late nights, the early mornings, the small moments that made up your relationship?
Or were you destined to be this past version of yourself forever? Would you develop new habits? Would you even fall in love with him, this version of himself who knows everything about you?
“Did we have a mating ceremony?”
He’s jolted back to the present, his mind finding itself in the past that your mind resides in. He smiles, warmth flooding his heart at the meer mention of that day. He gazes at you, telling you all about it. How all of Velaris loved you so much the town was covered in flowers, much to Cassian’s annoyance.
“I was so nervous, the whole day my hands kept shaking. The minutes before I saw you it got so bad my wings started shaking.”
“Why were you nervous?”
He breathes in deeply, surprised that tidbit came out of his mouth. He had never told you how nervous he had been - he didn’t want you to misconstrue it as reservations about you or your relationship.
He exhales, looking at his empty plate. “Being so vulnerable so publicly, declaring for everyone to know that I am yours and you are mine, felt so… intimidating.”
He grabs a napkin and starts shredding it, an effort to keep his hands occupied to keep them from shaking like they did that day. The shadowsinger rarely showed such nerves, but he always allowed you to see past the cool exterior he usually wore. “I was so scared. No one has ever loved me as openly as you do. My brothers love me, Feyre, Nesta, Mor - they love me. Elain, the Valkyries. All of them love me, but you wear your love on your sleeve. It’s practically on your face.”
He laughs as your hands reach up to your face, as if there was some physical marking there conveying your deep love.
“I’ve never had that. It made me a little scared.”
Without meaning to your hand reaches out to his, halting his napkin shredding. It’s the first time you’ve touched him since you woke up five days ago, and it lights Azriel’s heart aglow. He hadn’t realized how much he had been needing your soothing touch, the one way to know you were here with him.
He doesn’t move, allowing you to process what you’ve done as you see fit. He expects you to pull your hand back, retreating back into yourself as you used to do in the early stages of your relationship.
Your hand stays on his, your eyes meeting his. Your thumb grazes over the scarred skin, as if you could soothe the injury from centuries ago with a delicate touch.
It is quiet between you two, the sounds of the other patrons filling his ears. The soft clinking of spoons on plates, the murmured chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor.
You’re looking at him like you know him, like you remember it all. He feels his heart in his throat, hoping to hear those words from you. You open your mouth and tell him, “I’m sure I was nervous too.”
The moment is gone, you pull your hand away to stir your coffee once more. Suddenly the patrons are too loud, their conversations too idiotic, the smell of the coffee is overwhelming.
A few days later you wake up to an empty bed in a room you aren’t familiar with. It takes you a moment to remember that you’re in Azriel’s room.
Your room.
The room around you is proof that this wasn’t a dream, despite almost two weeks having passed since your memory was lost. You get up, your nightgown grazing your thighs as you take in the room. You walk in front of the bookshelves, fingers grazing the titles.
Azriel really likes detective novels, you think. You’re continuing through when you find some unmarked books. Opening them, you find your own handwriting back at you.
Entries dated 2 years into your future, 3 years in your past. You’re skimming through the journal, Cassian having done something to annoy you to write several paragraphs until you find a new paragraph.
“Azriel.
Azriel is my mate. My mate. He gave me a locket. We stood on the balcony, just watching the stars. He told me about how the stars led him through the depths of his childhood, and how he would spend most of his nights gazing at the moon, hoping, praying for better days.
“Did you find better days?” I had asked him, and he told me, “I found you, didn’t I?”
You shut the notebook, Azriel’s words invading your sense.
“I found you, didn’t I?”
You hear his voice and are transported back, back to that rooftop, back to that cool night where he laid everything bare for you. That cool night where he draped his wings over you to keep you warm, to keep you wrapped in his arms.
You two spent all night on that roof, talking, making out like two teenagers, staying until the sun began to rose and the citizens of Velaris began waking.
You can smell the scent of cedar and mist, a smell you recognize as Azriel. You can see the slight pink hue dusting his cheeks as you kissed his face, littering his cheeks with dozens of kisses.
It all comes flooding back to you as you drop your journal, racing out of your room. You take the stairs down, searching, needing to hold him.
Him.
Your precious mate.
The male who holds an infinite amount of patience for you.
You see him as you round the corner of the kitchen, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you with a soft oof as your legs wrap around his waist. He holds you there, breathing you in, and you whisper in his ear, “I found you, didn’t I?”
Azriel grip on you tightens, a soft sob escaping him as clutches you, holding you like the world could be collapsing around him and it wouldn’t matter.
“I would have done everything to make you fall in love with me again,” he tells you, kissing your cheeks, his tears mixing with yours.
“And I would have kept falling in love with you.” You grab his face, and kiss him, pouring everything into it and down the bond. He responds with his own love and adoration down the bond, his lips soft and delicate against yours as he does so.
You two hear a groan from the doorway, but don’t pull apart. “We make food in here!” Cassian groans, stepping past you two, “go somewhere else!” He picks up a piece of a cookie and throws it at you, hitting you in the forehead.
You grumble, turning to face him, your eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on your lips. Cassian gasps, “you remember!”
You jump off of Azriel and start running towards Cassian, throwing bits of cookie at him as he runs away, “I remember you telling my mate you wish it was your memories gone so you wouldn’t have to be reminded how annoying I am!”
You chase him around the house, threatening him as you do so, until Azriel reached an arm out, pulling you into his chest, and just holds you there.
1K notes · View notes
tojisth3rdwife · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
“Bout time you answered the damn phone..”
You wrinkle your nose at the hint of attitude in Toji’s deep voice, finding it a little cute since you knew that just his personality.
With your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, you continued working down the mountain of laundry in the basket on your living room floor.
“Uhm, rude?” you snort, tossing a freshly folded towel to join its appropriate pile before picking up another.
“What ever happened to ‘hello’ or ‘hey big booty’ ?”
“I reserve those types of greetings for girlfriends that pick up the first time I call.”
At that you roll your eyes, snatching up another towel.
“Girlfriends? So theres others?” you begin folding it. The faint sound of echoe’d music and a muffled voice requesting assistance in the frangrance department let you know Toji was out and about, more than likely at some convenience store.
The big nasty was probably restocking on condoms and that special brand of lube he used on you a while back. The one that resulted in you needing to change your bed sheets.
Twice.
“See, I could play your game and say there are others just to fuck with you....’xcuse me...” he pauses to say to an older woman he squeezed past in the aisle.
“...but you cant take a damn joke and I plan on getting some tonight.”
You pert your lips at the statement but dont argue. Even in the several months you and Toji became exclusive, it was true that his sense of humor surpassed yours when it came to him and other women. You werent nearly as possessive or jealous as he was (usually), but he knew better than to test it.
“Smart. Im glad you value your life. Talk to me nice.” you respond in the most brattish way, making your boyfriend chuckle dryly on the other end of the phone.
“Shut up. Anyway, what kind of soap do you use again? I vaguely remember what it looks like but theres 5 bottles that match what I see in my brain.”
“Soap? Like to wash my body?” you furrow your brow distractedly, continuing to fold clothes.
“Naw to wash your dog.” he tosses back sarcasticaly. If there was a camera crew in your house, you’d be glancing at them with a deadpanned look of annoyance.
You didnt have a dog.
“Would it be so hard just to answer a question? I swear I dont like you sometimes.” you mutter, flapping out the pair of pants you were about to fold and Toji’s smirk is as audidle as his snickering.
“But you love me all the time. Now stay focused. Soap. The kind you wash your ass with.”
You sigh in exasperation at the simple question. And it was for sure simple ,but as many times as Toji had been in your shower, sometimes with you, he should be able to know which damn soap you used.
Old ass..
“Dr.Bronner’s babe. Unscented..”
“The light blue one. See, I knew I remembered it.”
Toji snatches the largest bottle of pure castile soap from the shelves. His massive hand grasps it effortlessly as he made his way to another aisle, squinting at a display of electric shavers curiously.
“Well alright. Thats all I wanted. Carry on cheating or whatever you doing..”
You let out a loud breath, tossing the pair of pants aside.
“Why are you like this? That’s not funny, you know?”
“What?” Toji strolls leisurely down the shave aisle now, eyeing the array of products.
“You saying shit like that. Accusing me of cheating every time I don’t pick up or text back fast. Its irritating..” you huff, aggressively flapping out another pair of sweats that you immediately knew belonged to Toji.
“Is it?”
“Is it?” You mock him, balling up his oversized joggers scornfully and throwing them on the floor. God he was annoying. If he werent so fine, and tall, and big..
And fit.
And sexy.
And intimidating.
And..
What were we talking about?
A breathy chuckle vibrates against your ear, as well as the echoing *beep* of the cashiers growing louder, both yanking you off your tangent.
“Aww, mama. Don’t be like that. I only say it as a joke. I know you’d never cheat on me ‘cuz my dick’s too big.” Toji remarks all too casually, not even acknowledging the way an old man shoots him a disgustingly surprised look at his crudeness out loud as he walked past him.
You snort in amusement and shake your head.
“True. But don’t be so sure. Theres plenty of trees in the forest.” You remark cheekily, glad that you weren’t in front of him after saying that. Part of you wished you were though. Watching those pretty beady eyes of his shrink with his glare was equal parts scary and arousing. To your surprise, Toji finds your rebuttal funny enough to laugh.
“You must really want me to fold your ass like a futon, huh? Just wait, I’ll be by there later.”
Toji turns to get in line at a check out lane. A little girl standing with her mother behind him stares up at his back with wide eyes, probably never seeing a man of his size and stature. Ya boy was scraping at 6’3 barefoot, so in shoes he was surely around 6’4. Even you would find yourself gaping up at him when he stood in front of you.
“Yeah? What you gon do?
*beep*
Toji shuffles forward, the scarred corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.
“Fold you like a futon. Duh. You want candy?” He quickly changes the subject distractedly, falling victim to the mini wall of chocolate bars and gum.
The threat makes your core flutter while his subtle way of always keeping you in mind had you biting down on your grin as you continued folding laundry.
“Nooo, Baby. I don’t want candy. Thank you though.” You giggle, rolling your eyes.
“Well dont ask for some of mine ‘cuz I aint sharing..” Toji grumbles, still picking up two candy bars.
“Mmhmm.”
Having folded the final article of clothing and setting it aside, you sink back into the couch cushions with a huff, lifting your hand to untuck your phone and hold it against your ear.
“So wait, thats why you were blowing me up? Over soap?”
“Basically. I wanted you to have your own for when you stay with me. I know you have sensitive skin and shit…” he responds before reciprocating the cashiers greeting as he set his items on the belt.
“Awwww DaddyBear, how considerate of you. I wanna kiss you now, instead of slapping your face”
“Youre too easy to impress woman. Its just soap. You leave shit at my apartment anyway so I figured you’d wanna have something to shower with too.”
“I know but it’s still sweet. Come over now so I kiss on you and touch your butt.”
Toji snorts at your antics, knowing damn well he wasn’t letting your hands go anywhere near his ass.
“Yeah yeah. I gotta swing by Shui’s to pick up some money then Im gonna head your way.”
“Ok. But wait, you still could have just texted me that. Why call and make a fuss?”
“Damn. Maybe I also just like hearing your whiny ass voice y’know?”
You sigh, your giddiness fading immediately.
“Just hurry up and come over, ass.”
“See? Can never take a joke.”
“Bye Toji.”
“See you later Big Booty..”
<call ended>
359 notes · View notes
pierregazly · 6 months ago
Text
a joke a day ꨄ max verstappen
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
max verstappen x reader
warnings: gross! terrible jokes, max is a nerd (in love) [777 words]
request: can i request a blurb for 🫶 6. telling a joke just to see them laugh with max?? thank you in advance!
Tumblr media
Loud laughter filled the room, Max’s head thrown back against the chair, his body shaking as he processed your words. People turned to look at the usual stone-faced driver, confusion and questioning stares shared between the other occupants of the room.
“Schatje, you can’t say things like that. My god,” he said, his body still shaking in silent laughter as he wiped at his eyes and threw an arm around your shoulder to pull you in closer.
It had been a long weekend, qualifying not going in the way Red Bull and Max had hoped. Still high up on the grid, he had been outperformed by the Ferrari’s and a McLaren, his own frustration fading away with every small joke that fell from your lips.
“Max… if you were ever at a bank, and a little old lady came up to you and asked you to help check her balance, would you?”
Quirking an eyebrow down at you in confusion, he simply nodded his head.
“So you’d push her over, then? Get it… checking her balance?”
Shaking his head as a huff of laughter fell from his lips, you couldn’t help the small grin that began to grow on your lips. The jokes were always terrible, never any real humour to them… but they were always his favourite. The small, stupid humour always a positive addition to what Max considered to be a not-great day.
Breaking tension with silly jokes had been in a staple in your relationship with him from the start, from both sides. Whenever he knew you were having a bad day, a simple call and some silly joke would almost always brighten it.
“What’s a dog’s favourite super hero? Labra-Thor.”
You groaned, trying to contain your own silent laughter as you instantly covered your mouth to keep the snort at bay. You locked eyes with GP, his own exasperation evident on his features as he rolled his eyes at Max’s joke. It was common knowledge throughout the garage that the jokes were a never-ending thing once they started, both of you getting far too invested in doing your best to make the other laugh.
“I can’t believe how bad your jokes get every race, it’s worse than second-hand embarrassment having to listen to the two of you,” GP said, a small shake to his head as he muttered to himself while walking away.
All Max did was grin down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead in unspoken gratitude. 
His humour was one of many things you absolutely adored about him. He was genuinely funny. Disregarding all the terrible dad jokes he thought were worth the extra laugh, he had a tendency to say things that were so out-of-pocket, had you gasping for air sometimes. Had you almost keeling over from how hard you were laughing, half the time unable to comprehend how he even came up with the jokes he said.
“Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?” Quirking an eyebrow up at him, you nodded your head.
The first thing he ever said to you having been one of the worst jokes that had ever dropped from his mouth; a dare given to him by one of his friends when they realized he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you all night long. 
“About if I liked your shirt? And if I thought your shirt would look better on my apartment floor?”
Shaking his head, “No, I think the first thing I said to you was ‘hello’.”
Rolling your eyes at his words, you shoved at his side. He was insufferable sometimes, but he was still grinning. No expressions of frustration, no anger, or swearing in other languages about how ‘shit the car was’. So, you really couldn’t complain. 
“I was right though, no? My shirts usually do look better on your apartment floor. Of course, they look far better when you’re wearing them. Much prettier on you than on me, that’s for sure Schatje” he said, a large grin overtaking his face as he bumped his hip into your side.
“Your shirts would look much better if you paired them with pants that didn’t look like they were from 2016, darling.”
Huffing down at you, a mock glare overtook his features.
“I’ll talk to Charles then, perhaps he can lend me advice on where I can find new trousers? I suppose you did enjoy those cloud pants of his, you definitely had lots to say about his plaid pants, right?”
The look of horror that took over your face prompted a loud laugh to fall from the Dutchman’s face. Funny indeed.
Tumblr media
this was just wholesome and seems very max-esque! (this is very much so not proofread im sorry) so i hope y'all love it 🫶🏻
888 notes · View notes
ihave-atummyache · 4 months ago
Text
the next step
Stray Kids OT8 Imagine
NSFW!!! 18++
summary: your first time going all the way with your boyfriend. you’re no virgin, but he makes you nervous like you are!
2.4k words
a/n: literally made this bc im sick of seeing all these ‘first time with skz’ fics bc im not a virgin so i cant relate |: like I lost my virginity 8 years ago, i dont remember that shit!! i’m too old for that
Bang Chan:
Soooo attentive to you and your body. He gauges every reaction to every touch and takes note of it. Definitely doesn't need to talk much because he can observe your body so well.
It’s relatively quiet besides him praising and complimenting you, worshipping you, cherishing you, the usual.
"Shit, I feel you clenching around me, baby. Feels s’good," Chan grunts out above you and continues to drill into the same spot that had you seeing stars. It's hard to believe that this is the first time the two of you have had sex because he seems to be so well versed to your body and reactions.
His eyes stay on your face. He observes what has your eyes rolling back and your mouth dropping open. He experiments a tiny bit with the speed of his finger on your clit until he feels you clenching down on his cock and more wetness gushing out of you and maintains that same pace.
He even pays attention to certain things outside of the bedroom that come into use later. He notices you playing with his fingers, staring at his hands when he’s typing, tracing the veins on his arms.
His fingers continue to plunge in and out of you, despite having just pulled an orgasm from you moments ago.
“Channie! Please! I’m- I’m- something weird is coming!” and you’re screaming, squirting all over his hand and chest, your back arching off the bed and you’re completely out of breath.
“Fuck, my sweet girl. I’m getting hard again after that. One more round?” He proposes, pushing his boxers back down his thighs as you nod and take a deep breath, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.
“But you owe me a nice hot bath after this,” you narrow your eyes at him and he chuckles before leaning forward and slowly sliding into your soaking hole, making you hiss at the overstimulation.
“As long as I can join you, we have a deal,” he places a kiss to your lips before slowly sliding in and out of you.
(yes, the bath led to another round)
Lee Know:
In my head, Minho is such a horndog. I mean, dude IS a scorpio so…
The first time the two of you have sex, I doubt it’s the first time you guys have been intimate at all. He’s definitely found his hand in your pants on more than one occasion and his sex drive starts to rub off on you if it wasn’t already matching his.
You’ve dry humped until he came in his pants and you’ve definitely sucked him off on multiple occasions. It’s like when the two of you get together, you can’t keep your hands off! Your physical chemistry is off the charts! Let’s not sit here and pretend that physical chemistry isn’t as important as emotional chemistry.
The first time you decide to go all the way, like p in v full penetration, he probably starts off slow, sliding in and out of you.
Starting in missionary, his arms cage you in while he brushes stray hairs away from your face. You turn your head to the side and pepper kisses along his hands and wrists, making the moment much more intimate, until he breaks the comfortable silence between the two of you.
“Can I be rougher?” His eyes catch your’s and you can see his ears turning red at the question. He’s obviously holding himself back and as much as you want to tease, you know better. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his lips to your own for a quick peck before pulling away.
“Ruin me.” you command and that’s all it takes for the animalistic side to come out of your boyfriend. He pulls out and grabs your hip, flipping you to your stomach with ease. Before you have time to adjust, he’s sliding back into you and drilling into you with much more force.
“Fuck. You feel so good,” he groans behind you before his fingers lace into your hair and turns your head to the side, pressing your cheek into you the mattress.
“Look so good under me, kitty. I’ve been imagining this for so long but it doesn’t compare,” he confesses and his thrusts continue mercilessly, punching sounds from your throat that you can’t even begin to control.
Changbin:
I actually think he would be the most nervous of all the boys. Seeing his whole body and he finally gets to see your's is like… next level for him.
Definitely obsessed with you and cums very fast but who can blame him when you look that pretty under him! Super apologetic because he cums early but you really don't mind, you're actually flattered.
You're even more flattered when you lean in to kiss the pout from his lips and he pulls you into his lap, deepening the kiss, his cock already growing hard again.
"You're just too pretty, I can't help myself. You drive me crazy, pretty," He breathes against your lips and you grind down into him, making him get hard impossibly faster.
“You’re so obsessed with me,” you tease and he pulls back, his hands grabbing your hips to guide you against his length.
“Yeah? So what if I am?” He teases back and your laugh gets caught in your throat when the head of his cock rubs against your clit.
“I bet you could cum from just this, couldn’t you?” he asks and your eyes open, looking down at your pretty boyfriend.
“As long as this is the view I get,” you run your hands along his face and shoulder and down his chest and stomach, letting your fingers scratch lightly, until you reach his cock and angle it to sink back down again.
Probably have a lot of cockwarming in the relationship. Desperate little baby just want to be close to you! He’s obsessed and in love, you can’t blame him.
Uses every opportunity he can, he’ll pat his lap and you already know exactly what he wants, making your way over and lifting your pretty little skirt before sinking on his hard cock and leaning back against his chest, continuing to watch the video playing on the television.
Hyunjin:
MUNCH. MUNCH. MUNCH. MUNCH. MUNCH. MUNCH HYUNJIN AGENDA. I dont know what it is about him but he's such a munch. Certified pussy eater™ and mans knows exactly what he is doing!
He goes down on you for as long as you’ll let him. He’s been dreaming of being between your legs and he isn’t coming up for air until you’ve cum at least 3 times.
“J-Jinnie, s-slow down. Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” your fingers thread into his long hair as your back arches off the bed. He moans against you, his fingers still relentlessly stretching you and his mouth on your clit pushes you over the edge.
You have to practically drag him away to beg him to finally fuck you. He would’ve been perfectly content with having his face between your thighs for the rest of the night.
Because he’s a munch, he definitely knows exactly how to flick your clit to send you flying over the edge around his cock again. Wants to cum on you, his own version of art.
“You’re sucking me in so tight, angel. You’re gonna make me cum,” And with those words out of his mouth, he pulls out and jerks himself off, cumming all over your stomach and abused pussy.
He reaches down and rubs his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your sensitive pussy, making you convulse. He pulls them out before sliding them back in again. You let out a groan, already knowing where his mind has gone.
“Hyunjin-”
“Just one more. Come on, princess. I know you can take it,” and before you know it, his head is back between your legs.
(also ily my bruised cervix queen)
Han:
So desperate and cute. He wants to please you so so bad. Definitely wants you on top! He is such a tits guy (source: just trust me!) and keeps your nipples in his mouth the whole time you're riding him.
Whimpers and whines when you graze your teeth along his neck or pull his hair a little harder than you intended.
"Did you like that?" You freeze on top of him and  he peaks up at you from the pillows. You had accidentally scratched his chest and he let out the hottest moan you had ever heard.
His hand comes down, squeezing your thigh and pushing you to begin riding him again. His other hand find your nipple, toying with it as you slowly begin to ride him again.
"Why wouldn't I? Look at how hot you look on top of me right now. You could slap me and I would probably cum," he confesses and you chuckle, leaning forward so your chests are pressed together.
"We can test that theory another time," you chuckle, pressing your lips to his as he begins to drill up into you.
Despite being a soft and whiny mess, once he gets his shit together, he can switch to dom!han quickly. He isn’t always the pillow princess and I’m an advocate for dom!han okay?!
“Come on, you can arch more than that,” his words are condescending and his hand finds its way between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest further into the bed.
“Good. Atta girl. Take my cock like a good girl now,” and that’s all the warning you get before he’s fucking you like his life depends on it.
You’re loud under him and he loves it. He feeds off your noises, it’s proof that he’s doing a good job making you feel good. It all comes back to him being desperate to please you and make you feel good.
Felix:
I feel like Felix is the type to be just littleeeee frantic. He just wants everything to be perfect! Sweet baby doesn't understand that him just being there makes the whole thing perfect.
He needs reassurance from you! He desperate for your validation in the sweetest way possible. He wants to make sure that you are satisfied before he even begins to think about himself.
"Baby, my love. Calm down. Everything is perfect, I swear," you promise, swinging your leg over his lap and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.
"I-I just want you to be comfortable. I want you to be sure," He looks up at you, his eyes are already glassy and he's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
"You make me more comfortable than anything in this world. I promise," You reassure him and thats all it takes for him to press his lips against your's again, “You’re my home,” you whisper against his lips and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you as close as possible to him.
Definitely making love the first time the two of you are intimate. Missionary and he's telling you how pretty you are and how good you feel. You're on top and you’re sitting face to face, lips all over each other. I just imagine the whole thing being so intimate and sweet.
(definitely the type to burst into tears because he feels so happy. cries when he cums and when you ask why he’s crying, he tells you he loves you for the first time. i love him sm)
Seungmin:
The type to discuss boundaries before hand. Whether he or you are super kinky, it is no surprise, the two of you have thoroughly discussed it already. I view Seungmin as being the quiet but deadly type!! He doesn’t seem like it, but he is a FREAK.
He wants to know exactly what you like and what you don’t like before he ever even touches you intimately. He likes to know what you’re absolutely opposed to and what you’re willing to try or have already tried.
Consent and communication is sexy!!!
“So you’re saying that you don’t mind if I get rough with you? I can degrade you? Praise you? Objectify you? There’s nothing you’re not willing to try?” Seungmin’s words have you crossing your legs and letting out a shaky breath.
“Correct. I trust you. Do whatever you want to me. I’ll let you know if it’s too much,” you encourage him and leans forward, pressing his lips to yours but pulls away after your tongue asks for entrance.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he replies before pushing you back on the couch and kissing you harshly again. You have him wanting to push your limits, he wants to see just how far you can go.
After a safe word is established, you’re ultimately his little play thing that he can use however he wants which just turns him on more. You’re willing to put your trust in him and he thinks that is insanely hot.
“You look so good like this. All fucked out. How many times have you cum now, slut? Hm?” His voice makes your eyes snap open and you look up at him, clenching when your eyes lock on his.
“Don’t even know how many times you’ve cum already and this desperate cunt still wants more. I’m gonna figure out your limit today, my pretty baby,” he chuckles before he begins to drill into you again, making your eyes snap back shut as another orgasm comes crashing over you.
(spoiler: this is your 6th orgasm!)
I.N:
Oh I.N. Baby bread daddy toast. In the nicest way possible, I imagine he would be much like a horny teenager when he finally gets his paws on you!
It’s all clashing teeth and desperate tongues. You are both chasing oxygen when you pull away, getting light headed from how hard you’re kissing.
Also, we all know he knows about his hands. The way he flaunts them around on live and in pictures and videos… he knows.
Definitely the type to make you look at his fingers plunging in and out of you. Makes a mess of you and makes you watch.
He knows he won’t last long once he finally gets inside of you so he tries his hardest to make you cum at least once before he gets inside of you. Whether it’s with his fingers or his mouth doesn’t really matter to him. Refuses to let you suck him off because he knows that he’ll blow.
“Baby, can I please suck your cock? Your mouth feels so good on me. I wanna return the favor,” you put on your best puppy dog eyes, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth but he immediately shakes his head.
“In the most manly way possible, I think I’ll bust as soon as you put it in your mouth and I would really prefer to cum in your pussy,” he chuckles, a little embarrassed and you giggle in response before pulling him into you and placing a real kiss to his lips.
“Then what are you waiting for?” You ask, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him against your bare cunt.
Baby (daddy) bread has some sort of alternate persona take him over once he’s inside of you. It becomes even worse when you accidentally let your daddy kink slip.
Jeongin freezes in his tracks and your eyes fly open at the realization of what you just said.
“W-what did you just call me?” His fierce gaze never leaves yours and you swallow thickly before replying.
“D-Daddy. I said harder please, daddy,” you reply and he sits back on his haunches, pushing your knees to either side of your chest before fucking into you like an animal.
“Anything for you, princess. Daddy’s gonna make you a mommy while I’m at it. Hm? How does that sound?” His voice is hoarse and you’re all moans, barely able to make out what he’s saying.
“Yes. Please, daddy. Please cum in me,” you’re begging for his cum, barely even conscious and he’s granting you your wish in an instant.
313 notes · View notes