#happy fanfic friday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladymochimochi · 6 months ago

Text

✦♡✦ Need To Know - Part Two ✦♡✦

Katakuri x Fem!Reader [AO3 Link] Part One Description: Katakuri's fantasies become reality. Tags: Clothed sex, Face sitting, oral sex (F!Receiving), Multiple orgasms, Dirty talk, Desk sex, Size difference (Reader is slightly sized up to better fit Kata), Come shot, Facial, Come swallowing, 18+ MDNI Words: 3.6k ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

It truly was getting to be too much. You could not get the sound of him saying your name that way out of your head. So desperate, so needy. It made your stomach flip and your blood run hot. Ever since that day, it was like you were stuck in a haze - floating through your daily routine around Katakuri’s estate, his moans on repeat inside your head. It had definitely spiced up your private time in your bed chambers at night as well.

The only issue is that you would never bring this up to him. How were you supposed to go up to your huge and intimidating boss – who you also had a crush on - and casually tell him, “Hey, by the way, I was totally listening in on the other side of the door the other day. It was really hot. Should we...?”.

Yeah. Not happening.

So, you had kept your head down and worked diligently while trying to avoid bumping into Katakuri. But that could only last so long and you felt your face go pale when you were told it was your duty this week to clean up his office.

Not only could you potentially see him in there, it was also the scene of where it all happened. How were you supposed to do your job and not want to die the whole time?

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Fortunately, luck had been on your side and when you had entered his office after knocking, it was evident Katakuri was out at the moment. You quickly got to work, wanting to get your chores done in here before he could return. His office was quite large but not much was in it. Just a large desk and chair and a chaise lounge with a low table, along with a rug, some decor and bookcases. The chaise lounge you always figured was just a part of the decor since there was no way Katakuri actually used it.

Just as you were wrapping up, you heard the door open behind you and you froze. Of course, your luck could only last so long. You heard Katakuri say your name like he wasn’t expecting to see you and hearing your name from his lips again sent a shiver down your spine. Gathering your courage to face him long enough to get out of here, you quickly turned and grabbed your bucket of cleaning supplies.

“I just finished, my lord,” you told him. “I’ll be out of here in a moment.” With a small bow, you attempted to leave but he shut the door behind him before you could even cross the room. Panic flooded your senses and you could only watch as he strode up to you. Certain bloodlines within you made it so you weren’t tiny next to him, but you still only came up to about his abdomen. You shyly looked up at him to see him looking down at you and his gaze made it feel like he was analyzing you.

“M-My lord?” You stammered out, unsure of what to do.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you around that much these past few days.” Katakuri told you and you felt a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it down and looked away from him.

“Oh... W-Well, you know, I’ve been so busy cleaning all over the place. So... So many rooms, you know?” You rambled out, your face going the color of crimson. It was a stupid excuse but you couldn’t just tell him the truth outright. You had been avoiding him but you never expected him to notice. He was an important and busy man and you were just a maid that worked for him. It was clear from the other day that he was attracted to you but the fact that he noticed your absence from his presence made your heart flutter.

His stare only continued and he made no reply to your excuse. It was evident he was not buying it at all and your odd behavior only piqued his interest even more. You began to fidget, hoping he would just let you go and die from shame in your bed chambers. His eyes drifted down to where you were white-knuckling your cleaning bucket and after a second, he visibly stiffened.

“...You overheard, didn’t you?” His question was so quiet but you heard it all the same. A knot formed in your stomach and you felt tears prick at the back of your eyes. You could have tried to play dumb and say you didn’t know what he meant but you knew it was pointless and also cowardly. Words bubbled up your throat and you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking out.

“I’m so sorry, my lord. I truly didn’t mean to but...” You started to confess but you trailed off, not knowing how to excuse your spying on him. Not able to face him anymore, you turned your back to him, still death gripping your bucket. You knew it was rude to do, especially to your boss but your heart just couldn’t take it. “It was wrong of me.” You whispered.

“No.” His reply stunned you. “It was wrong of me to do that and then put you in this position.” You turned slightly back to him and while you couldn’t see half of his face due to his signature scarf, you could see the tips of his ears were a dusty pink. The sight made your heart beat faster and it was something you wanted to burn into your brain. You turned away again, staring at his desk. This whole situation was awkward for the both of you but here you were and this needed to be taken care of.

It was time to be honest.

“It’s alright... I actually didn’t mind at all.” You said, your face burning hot. He stepped closer and you could feel the heat of his body right behind you.

“Is that so?” He rumbled out, right by your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine and you finally dropped your bucket. Him being so close was making your head spin.

“Yes. It was...” You trailed off, feeling too shy to say it aloud. But he wasn’t going to let you off like that.

“Tell me.” He ordered as he stood back up to his full height and put his hands on your shoulders. You lost your breath at having him finally touch you. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it may just burst from your chest. Was this really happening? Where was this even going? If it was going where you thought it was, you weren’t going to say no.

“It was really hot. Hearing you say my name like that, knowing what you were doing on the other side of that door.” You whispered, your skin burning. He didn’t immediately reply and the silence was killing you.

“What were you thinking about?” You breathlessly asked him and he gripped you tighter. You needed to know. What had been going through his head while he stroked himself to the thought of you?

A beat of silence passed before he replied.

“How about I show you?”

You stared up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes and slowly nodded your head, your mouth now gone dry. With that he turned you around and lifted you up, hitching your legs around his waist. You let out a small, startled noise and clung to his broad shoulders. You didn’t expect him to move so quickly after how slow the two of you were going just a moment ago.

He brought you over to the chaise lounge and sat down on the edge of it. You were now straddling him and could feel his arousal press into you. It was quite large and it made you swallow while wondering how you were going to take it – if this even went that far.

His large hands moved to your waist to hold you in place and - to your surprise - he laid back onto the large rectangular cushion.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You asked him startled. Katakuri was the man who never laid on his back and here he was now laying beneath you. Not that you minded really. Having this huge man now pinned under you made heat coil in your lower stomach.

His eyes roamed over your body and his hands moved down your waist to your ass, pulling your short dress up to bunch around your hips. He then grabbed your ass roughly and you gasped.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret.” He said as he kneaded your ass. His movement caused your hips to start rocking, grinding your core against his cock still confined to his pants and you panted lightly. “I do lay on my back from time to time. Especially when I’m about to have my hot maid ride my face.”

His words stunned you to silence and you could only stare down at him wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. You were most definitely wet at this point and you could feel your pussy throb at how seductive he was being.

“Now, I’m going to need these off.” He said as stopped kneading your ass and he snapped your panties against the skin of your hip. It jolted you out of your stupor. Biting your lip, you continued to grind yourself down on his arousal. You didn’t want to have to get off of him for even a second.

“Rip them.” You told him like a soft command and his eyes widened, pupils dilating and he let out a growl as he promptly ripped both sides of your panties. You lifted your hips enough to get the ruined cloth out from under you and he tossed them across the room.

“Close your eyes.” He rasped to you and while the sudden command left you confused, you did as he said. “Don’t open them until I tell you to.”

“Yes, my lord.” You whispered in response, darkness the only thing you could now see. Not being able to see what he was going to do to you next added another level of heat to the situation and you could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Then you felt his strong hands on your hips and he was lifting you again. A small gasp left you as he brought you up and set you back again. You felt the soft fabric of his scarf on your thighs and you put two and two together that he had you hovering over his face. Knowing your bare pussy was right in front in his face made you feel so light headed, you were worried you may pass out.

There was a small sound of fabric shifting and then you felt it. His large, hot tongue licked up your slit and you threw your head back as you let out a loud cry. One of your hands went backwards to brace yourself on his broad chest while the other fumbled to find his hair and you gripped it tightly, earning a grunt from the man below you. His fingers dug into your thighs and then he went to work on you like a man starved.

You moaned loudly as his tongue lapped at your clit. It was an extreme pleasure you had never felt before and you gripped his hair tighter. Katakuri let out raspy groan in response and flicked his tongue faster. You cried out again and began to move your hips. As you rocked your hips in time with his licking, you could have sworn you felt...fangs? Your mind was in such of a sex haze though that it quickly left your thoughts.

You could feel your orgasm building quickly and you quietly begged him for more. He started to switch between licking and sucking on your clit and it wasn’t long before your orgasm ripped through you. You let out a high-pitched moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to snap them open. You rode out your orgasm on his face while he kept licking and sucking.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you started to shift away from him. But he only gripped your thighs tighter.

“I’m not done yet.” He growled beneath you and you were about to question him when his tongue plunged into your hole. You screamed out at the hot, wet intrusion. Your hand on his chest pressed down harder and you dug your nails into his flesh. You wished you could open your eyes and watch him go to town on you but you didn’t dare disobey him. His tongue repeatedly went in and out of you and you could nothing but moan, pinned down to his face.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” You gasped over and over, another orgasm coming quickly. “It’s so good.” You groaned out, now having found your voice. Katakuri moaned in response and went even faster in and out of you. Your thighs began to shake and you pressed yourself down onto his face harder.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You squealed out as you rode out your second orgasm. Once this one passed, you let out a harsh breath and doubled over, still keeping your eyes closed.

You lifted yourself from his face and this time he let you. His own haggard breathing could be heard and it made your walls clench. It reminded you of him jerking off and you hoped you could hear more of his noises.

With your eyes still shut, he lifted you again and put you back on his lap. His erection felt even harder than before and you bit your lip. There was shuffle of fabric again and you waited for his next order.

“You can open your eyes now.” He told you and you slowly did so, getting adjusted to the lights again. You looked down at him and drank in the sight of him.

His hair disheveled, large chest heaving, half covered face flushed red, eyes absolutely hungry. You could come again just looking at him. It must’ve shown on your face because he swiftly sat up, wrapped your legs around him and stood once more. This time he took you over to his desk and set you down on your feet. But your legs were still shaking and you had to grab him before you collapsed to the floor.

“I got you.” He said as he held you up. “You doing okay?” He asked you gently and you nodded back. “We can stop if you need to.” He said but you shook your head.

“No, I’m good to keep going. Please don’t stop.” You told him softly, looking up at him. His gaze over his scarf turned hungry again and then he turned you around, placing a hand on your back. His large hand on your back slowly pressed you down so that your front was pressed down against the top of his large desk. The hand still there gently rubbed your back as it slowly made its way down to your ass.

He pushed your dress up so that you were exposed to him and he turned his hand to slip two fingers into your wet cunt. The sudden intrusion made you cry out as you rocked your hips back to ride his fingers. He large fingers dipped in and out of you at a brutal pace. It stretched you out good and you knew this was in prep for his large cock.

After everything he had done to you, it wasn't long before you reached yet another orgasm. You were a stuttering mess of oh yes and please as your third orgasm ripped through you. Your breath was ragged as you rode your high.

“Please...” You started to beg. “I need your cock, my l-lord.” You couldn’t even catch your breath but your body needed him and needed him now. You could feel yourself dripping wet and your thighs slick.

He removed his fingers from you and you heard the clink of his belt coming undone. Your mind was fully hazy again with lust and all that was on your mind was his cock. You wiggled your ass at him, excited at the prospect of getting fucked. His hand came down and smacked against one of your cheeks causing you to cry out.

“Stay still.” He ordered huskily and your eyes rolled back.

“Yes... Yes, my lord.” You panted, the side of your face pressed against his desk. Then you felt the head of his cock as he notched it at your entrance. One of his hands gripped your hip as he slowly directed his cock into you.

You moaned loudly at the stretch; he was much bigger than you ever expected but you were determined to take it all. His thumb rubbed circles onto your hip as he entered you inch by inch.

“You’re doing so good.” He gently said to you and you clenched around him, whimpering in reply. Soon he was seated fully within you and you were breathing rapidly at being so full. Once you were fully used to the stretch, you gave him the go ahead to start moving.

He started out slow, pumping into you with control. Your body was slowly giving into the pleasure, every thrust feeling better and better. You started to mewl and moan and he went faster, fingers digging into your hip.

“You’re so big.” You said breathlessly. “It’s so fucking good, yes, fuck me.” You pleaded to him, starting to see stars across your vision.

The hand that had been leading his cock into you slammed down onto his desk next to your head and you gasped.

You felt his large frame press onto your back as he bent over to be on top of you and your walls clenched ever tighter around him. He started to drill into you and you could barely catch your breath. To be taken in such of a feral fashion made your eyes roll back into your head.

“This... is what I was stroking my cock to the other day.” He seductively said down to you, his thrusts unrelenting. “You crying out for my cock while I fuck you like this, after I ate my fill of your sweet pussy.”

His words alone were about to send you into another orgasm. You cried out again and dug your nails into the wood of his desk. At this point, words were beyond you and you were just a crying, mewling mess. The hand on your hip suddenly moved and he brought it between your body and his desk so he could play with your clit. You started to scream out, your legs shaking violently. It was too much, way too much. The feel of his fingers moving against your clit, the harsh thrusts of his huge cock inside you, the press of his body against you.

Your vision blacked out for a second and yet another orgasm crashed into you at rapid speed. He picked up his pace, fucking you faster and faster through your orgasm. You were screaming so loud you were sure the whole estate – maybe even the whole island – could hear you but you didn’t care at all. Never in your life had you been fucked like this and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

You were slowing your rapid breathing down when you realized you had been drooling on his desk. As you were going to lift your head, Katakuri grabbed your waist and brought you up himself so the two of you were standing against the desk.

“There’s one more thing to this fantasy.” He rumbled out to you, slightly out of breath himself. You couldn’t fathom what else he had in store for you but you were willing to go along with anything at this point. “On your knees, mouth open, tongue out.” He ordered and slipped his cock out of you.

His words made your whole body shiver and your pussy throb yet again. He stepped away from you and it didn’t take much effort for you to get onto the floor. Your body basically thanked you for doing so. You faced him on your knees and this was the first time you actually got to see his cock.

Your brain short-circuited as you tried to process how the hell that had fit inside of you.

What brought you out of your thoughts was his hand stroking his huge cock and you remembered he was waiting. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue just like he told you to. He groaned and pumped his fist faster.

This was really what he fantasized about? Holy shit.

You placed your hands on the floor in-between your spread knees and hefted your chest up, cleavage on display and stuck your ass out, wanting to give him the best view. His face, still half hidden by his scarf, flushed at you doing this and his eyes had a look of desperation in them. His fist went faster and faster until he let out a guttural moan and his cum shot out onto you.

You closed your eyes as most of it landed on your tongue but some ended up on your cheek and even the top of your breasts. Slowly opening your eyes, you made eye contact with him and then drew your tongue back into your mouth and visibly swallowed.

“Fuck.”

It was all Katakuri could mutter after seeing such a display. You tilted your head to the side while still looking up at him, smiling softly but with wicked look in your eye.

“Was it everything you wanted, my lord?”

#happy friday!#this really got away from me lmao i just go feral for this man #my fanfics #katakuri one piece #katakuri x reader #charlotte katakuri #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece smut #katakuri smut #charlotte katakuri smut

599 notes · View notes

ineffable-kelpie · 1 year ago

Link

Chapter 6 is up!

Rating: G

Wordcount: 21,356

Chapters: 6/8

Summary:

Aziraphale, thirty-eighth order scrivener—at least, that’s who they told him he was—wakes up after some perfectly normal memory loss to find a cryptic note written on his hand. The further he goes in his search for answers, the more questions he has. Will he ever learn why he was demoted to a desk job? Or how he’d managed to collect enough books to open a bookshop? Or why that familiar red-haired demon on Earth seems to be avoiding him?

(Updates every Friday)

#Happy fanfic friday #This week:#uhhhh #all the fake spoilers I can think of are bad #nothing at all happens this week it's fine :)#cyankelpie's fic #light the corners of my mind

29 notes · View notes

ginax0916 · 8 months ago

Note

hii could u do sturniolo triplets x fem reader where they treat her like one of them and toss shit at her but then they accidentally hurt her and they all panic. (maybe one of them have a secret crush on her up to u?)

★‧𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭‧★

Sturniolo Triplets x fem!bsf

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Filming a car goes wrong when a small accident happens.

Warning: Blood mentioned.

*this is gonna be just platonic so they’re just besties*

I love this request by the way, tysm! 🫶🏻

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

I’ve been friends with the triplets for longer than I can remember. They practically call me their sister now. So it isn’t unusual for me to appear in their videos. I’m usually in the vlogs just because I think they’re funner to film than car videos.

We are all currently sitting on their couch watching random videos on YouTube eating ice pops.

“Guys I’m bored” Chris says.

“Ok then what do you wanna do?” I ask.

“I don’t know but something other than whatever this is” Chris lays back on the couch sighing.

“How about we start filming the car video for Friday?” Nick says.

“But it’s literally Sunday” Matt says looking at Nick.

“Yea but we already have our Wednesday video filmed, and if we film our Friday video today we can have the rest of the week free” Nick explains.

“That’s a good idea” I say.

“Would you be in it y/n?” Matt asks.

“I’ve got nothing better to do so yea” I chuckle.

“Ok then let’s go!” Chris jumps up from the couch with a sudden outburst of energy.

“Look over there it’s all empty” Nick points to an empty part of the Walgreens parking lot where we chose to film.

“Ok that’s good, Chris start getting the camera ready” Matt says, driving to the spot farthest away from people.

Either way it is 12 am so there weren’t much people out anyway.

“Do we even have a topic?” I ask.

“No but we can just start speaking and see where it gets us” Nick replies.

“Do you guys want anything from Walgreens before we start?” Matt questions as he looks at Nick and I from the rearview mirror.

“Yes I want candy and a drink” Nick says.

“Me too” I say looking at Matt.

“Alright I’ll go get it” He answers while unbuckling his seat belt.

“I’ll go with you” I quickly say.

“Yea same you never get me the right candy” Chris rolls his eyes.

“Ok well I guess I have to go too now” Nick sighs.

We all got our candy and drinks except for Nick who couldn’t decide what he wanted to drink. Per usual.

“For the love of god Nick fucking choose” Chris groans.

“But there’s so many options!! I can’t do this” Nick replies grabbing his hair in frustration.

“Nick if you don’t choose something in the next 20 seconds we’re leaving” Matt sternly says.

“Oh my god look” Nick gasps.

“What” I say confused.

“They have glass bottles of coke!” Nick exclaims grabbing one from the fridge.

“Why the fuck would you want a glass bottle of coke? Just get the can” Chris comments.

“No I’m getting this. What if it tastes better in a glass bottle than in a can?” Nick questions.

“Just give me the damn thing so I can pay and go film the video for fucks sake” Matt says annoyed at his brother, as he walks to the check out.

“Mamas mad” I joke causing Chris and Nick to laugh.

“What the fuck is up YouTube! Welcome back to this week’s Friday video that we happen to be filming on a Sunday” Chris screams as soon as the camera starts recording, causing us all to flinch.

“Chris stop being so loud” I say grabbing his arm.

“Well we have to have a memorable intro no?” He answers, turning his body to look at me in the backseat.

“Well yea but don’t yell” I chuckle.

“Guys is it just me or did this car shrink” Nick says moving around swinging the bottle of coke in his hands.

“Nick stop you’re gonna hit me” I say shielding my face in case he does hit me.

“I hope he hits you and you break your nose” Matt says with no emotion on his face.

“Damn alright Matthew very sweet of you” I sarcastically say.

“Did you guys know that every star you see in the night sky is bigger and brighter than our sun” Chris randomly says.

“That’s not fucking true” Matt argues.

“IT IS TRUE SEARCH IT UP” Chris yells.

“Chris how many times do I have to tell you to stop screaming!” I raise my voice at him.

“Well he’s doubting my facts!” He argues back.

“Well Matt did you search it up?” Chris smirks.

“Shut up” Matt smiles.

“I told you soooo” Chris laughs.

“I finished my coke” Nick burps.

“You’re gross” I scrunch my face.

“Yea dude stop fucking burping everywhere you’re turning into Chris” Matt replies going off what I said.

“What did you say to me? I am most definitely not turning into Chris. In fact I’m better” Nick starts to argue still swinging the bottle around as he moves his arms.

“Hey! What did I do!” Chris complains.

“Oh my god” I sigh knowing they’re all about to fight.

“Oh shut up Chris sit down” Matt says in Chris’s face.

“You sit down tough guy get out of my face” Chris argues back.

“Can ya’ll just shut up please” I say rubbing my temples.

“Sorry sorry” Nick says exhaling as he rests his head on the head rest of Matt seat.

“Here I’m done with my Pepsi” Chris throws his empty can at me.

“Do I look like a trash can to you” I say annoyed.

“I’m done with my sprite too” Matt says throwing his empty spite bottle in my face.

“Oh my god why am I being attacked” I laugh.

“Wait this was from yesterday I’m done with it too” Chris adds on, throwing an empty Fanta bottle at my face again while laughing.

“That’s so gross” I laugh at him.

“Oh take this one too” Matt laughs throwing another empty soda bottle in my face which I attempt to shield.

“How dirty is your fucking car” I giggle.

“Here take mine too” Nick says throwing his glass bottle at my face, forgetting it’s glass.

“Ow Nick what the fuck that’s glass!” I raise my voice grabbing my nose as I feel a burning sensation.

“Oh shit I forgot it’s glass oh my god” Nick gasps.

“Nick why the fuck would you do that! You ok y/n?” Chris yells at Nick then turns to me.

“No not really” I quietly say trying to hold back tears.

“Lift your head up y/n” Matt softly says grabbing my chin to lift my face.

Their eyes all widen as they see blood coming out of my nose.

“Oh fuck” Chris says getting out of the car and opening the door to my side.

“Y/n im so sorry oh my god” Nick freaks out.

“Nick apologize later right now to into Walgreens and buy tissues or paper towels and some Advil for the pain. A bottle of water too” Matt says to Nick then rushing to where Chris had pulled me out of the car so I wouldn’t get blood on the seats.

“C’mere sit down and tilt your head up” Chris softly says pulling me to the ground and gently grabbing my head and tilting it back.

“I’m gonna have a panic attack I hate blood” I say as my breathing picks up and tears slowly slide down my face.

“Hey hey shh. It’s ok me and Chris are right here with you and Nick is getting some stuff to help you ok? It’s okay” Matt comforts me and pinches the bridge of my nose to help stop the flow of the blood and rubs on of my shoulder with his other hand.

“Does it hurt?” Chris asks while he rubs my knee.

“Mhm” I mumble closing my eyes.

“Here I got the stuff. Fuck I’m so so sorry please don’t die” Nick freaks out.

“Nick she’s not gonna die don’t say shit like that calm down” Chris replies.

“It’s okay Nick it was an accident I forgive you” I quietly say trying not to move my head much.

“Alright here hold that there” Matt puts some paper towels under my nose to soak the blood which was starting to become less.

“Can you swallow a pill?” Nick questions.

“Mhm” I nod.

“Open” Chris taps the side of my cheek indicating me to open my mouth, and so I do.

“Here’s water” Chris softly says, handing me water to swallow the pill he put in my mouth.

“How’s your nose sweetheart?” Matt asks, moving hair out of my face.

“It’s better and the blood stopped” I answer moving the paper towel away to see that there was no more blooding come out.

“Y/n I’m so sorry please forgive me” Nick engulfs me in a hug.

“It’s ok Nick I promise. I’m not mad it was just an accident” I say forgiving him and hugging him back.

“Alright c’mon let’s just go back home and order food and watch a movie how does that sound?” Chris asks me as he helps me up so we can all get back into the car.

“Mhm sounds good” I mumble.

“I kinda jinxed this whole situation I said I hope he hits you” Matt laughs as he starts the car.

“You really did jinx it Matt” I say.

“Guys the camera was recording the whole time” Chris points out.

“Well then this a hell of a video” Nick laughs.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

Tried my best 🤗😛

#y/n #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #happy friday #walgreens

834 notes · View notes

missyorkswhore · 3 months ago

Text

It's Sunday morning and you're Joel's breakfast

Oh I'm so sick for this man! 😭😈

#Joel Miller #pedrohub #this voice aaaaa #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #dbf joel miller #pedropascaledit #pascalispunk #javier peña #dave york #agent whiskey #happy frankie friday #frankie morales #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

226 notes · View notes

intheorangebedroom · 5 months ago

Text

The corner deli, part 2

Summary: Frankie takes you on a second date. Somehow, firearms are still involved...

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit 🔞

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday, Orange besties 🧡 Thank you so much for your kind response to part 1! I hope you like this part too (pun intended). And please, see the end notes 🧡

Word count: 4.1k (I managed to cram in nearly all my kinks, can I get a woot woot?)

[part 1] [blog masterlist]

Part 2: Crimson and Clover

“Isn’t it cheating, though?”

The carnival rifle looks comically small between his hands. He presses the trigger, and a fourth balloon explodes with a loud popping sound, amplified by the wooden box. You jump. He doesn’t even blink.

“How is it cheating?” he asks, looking down at you with a cocked eyebrow as he casually reloads a tiny lead bullet into the rifle’s barrel. Wow. Competency, much?

“Well, you were in the Army. Don’t they train you to shoot at stuff?” you ask, eyes trained on the little target inked on his left hand.

He shrugs.

“You want that teddy bear, or not?”

“I do. I do want the teddy bear. It’s– it’s a plush Grogu, but yes, I do want it.”

“The plush green alien, yea.”

You make a face, taking mock offense.

The date —he said it was a date, so you guess you can call it that, right?— has been going extremely well, so far. Conversation flowing easy, stolen glances that don't make you wanna crawl out of your skin; he’s asked you a lot of questions, but it didn’t feel forced. You’re not sure if your brain is not gonna ask for payback at 3am on a Sunday, but you're feeling relaxed and at ease. He’s paid for everything, the diner, the rides, even the cotton candy, but he didn’t make a show of it. You could get used to this. The hanging out, that is, not necessarily the paying for everything part.

“I’m teasin’ you. I love Star Wars too.”

“You do? Wait, are you one of those fans who’s gonna tell me I am not a real fan because I haven’t read all the books and comics and I can’t speak Jawa, but really it’s because I got a vagina?”

“Do I look like the kind of man who feels threatened by a vagina?”

Oh. Oh shit. Ok.

“Guess not,” you whisper, ducking your head so he can’t see your cheeks, that are fucking burning up.

“Star Wars is actually the reason I became a pilot.”

He brings the butt stock of the rifle to his shoulder, adjusting his aim, and oh boy, he’s a sight to behold. That poor t-shirt of his is pulled taut across the breadth of his shoulders, seams ready to burst. You admire the way his thick finger slides around the trigger guard, and in, before another balloon goes BOOM.

The young man keeping the stand lets out an ostentatious sigh. He grabs a long pole with a hook at the end to get you the toy, but really, it looks more like it’s a pitchfork he’s gonna chase you away with.

“How’s that?” you manage to articulate.

“Han Solo is the coolest, and I wanted to be as cool as Han Solo.”

He gives you a shy grin, setting the rifle down on the counter.

“Shut up! I wanted to be Leia!”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“Is that so?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.

Oh. Oh.

Oh, that’s close. He’s crowding you against the counter, towering over you, his heady scent wrapping around you and he gives you that cocky look that turns your legs into Jell-o.

“Yeah,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to stare at the dip between his collarbone, and the little freckles on the tanned skin of his neck.

The stand employee shoves the ginormous Grogu into your back, propelling you into Frankie’s chest. The man is HOT. Like, really hot. His skin is on fire, you can feel the heat through his threadbare t-shirt.

“Can I take you and Grogu home now, or is it too fast?” he says, his breath fanning your lips. “I don’t know how these things are supposed to work.”

Oh god, his hips are pressing into yours.

“I’ve no idea either, but I think you’re doing fine.”

“Yea?”

“Mmh mmh,” is the only sound you manage to produce.

“Good. Let’s go. Gonna make you see stars,” he adds, pushing away from you, and he immediately winces at the lame joke.

“Wow. Really?” you laugh.

He flinches, hiding his pretty face under the brim of his hat.

“Fuck…”

—

Well, he wasn’t lying. You saw stars. And then you saw stars again. And again. And then you saw some more.

But the first thing you see when you get to his place is how clean it is. Tidy, but in a lived-in way.

It’s a one-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor of a brick building. The kitchen sink is empty, a single plate and set of cutlery drying on the metal rack next to it. Some magnets adorn the fridge, among which you recognize a picture by Manuel Álvarez Bravo, and another by Berenice Abbott, and you try to police your expression because these are your two favorite photographers and that’s a pretty freaky coincidence, right?

You step into the living-room while he washes his hands. It’s cozy. A soft amber glow pours in from the streetlights through the three narrow windows, behind a big slouchy leather couch. There’s a plant that looks alive and well on the console next to it, and an entire wall of seemingly handmade shelves, lined with books. The TV is old, downright ancient, and there’s a turntable propped onto a vintage stereo. An opened book lies face down on the coffee table.

You crane your neck to read the title. Engineering Circuit Analysis. Okay, so that won’t be a conversation starter.

You don’t know if the place always looks this tidy or if he cleaned it because he thought you might be coming over, and you’re not sure if the sheer assumption shouldn’t be a red flag, given it’s only the second time you’re seeing the guy, but you find that you don’t care. You really don’t. Not in the least.

He joins you in the living-room, but he doesn’t turn the lights on. He’s taken his hat off and he’s combing his fingers through his thick mane of curls, and that sight alone was worth driving all the way here in his truck.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, and that’s a very good question, do you want something to drink?

You should, probably, because your mouth is so dry you can’t even gulp, and your nerves could use some alcohol, but you just stand here, like an idiot, watching him walk slowly toward you, wondering how close he’s gonna get before he stops walking.

Very close, apparently.

He looks so fucking tall and broad, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, but then again, it’s only the second time you see him. He leans over you, you have to twist your neck up to keep your eyes on his, but really, what you want to do is chew on his lips. Or his neck. You’re not picky.

He hooks his index fingers into the belt loops of your jeans to draw you in. Fuck, now your panties are ruined.

Time goes in slow motion as he licks his lips, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your mouth.

“I’m gonna kiss you now. Is it ok?”

“Yes, please.”

Yes, please, Jesus fucking Christ, can you get any more cringe?

“There’s a lot of things I’m wanna do to you, if I gotta be honest,” he adds.

Oh, there, you can gulp. You think people might have heard you swallow from the other side of town.

“Okay. You can… do your worst, Morales.”

“You sure? Because my worst is… You need to tell me if–”

“Yes. I’m sure. You got my consent. All of it. Please.”

Who needs dignity? Not you. Not today.

“You’re fucking adorable, you know that? I am going to ruin you.”

You hate meeting new people. Meeting guys. You hate that whole dance, when you have to pretend you don’t really wanna fuck each other, oh but really you do, you hate getting undressed in front of a literal stranger, the awkwardness of it, new skin, new touch, everything grosses you out and you feel like curling into a ball inside your own skin, waiting for it to be fucking over.

But this, this is different. Of course, it’s different, everything has been since you’ve laid eyes on him across that aisle in the corner deli.

You want him. God, you’re practically vibrating with it. And you want him to want you, too.

He presses his lips to yours, and it’s subtle, the delicate, albeit insistent press of it, testing but also very much signifying you he’s gonna do everything he said he would, pulling you closer with your belt loops.

Fuck it, you think. Fuck it. You want this. All of it. The taste of him and the weight of him and his touch and his skin.

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean into the kiss with a quiet little moan, your hands traveling up his large back, balling his t-shirt in your fists. He doesn’t miss a beat, his hand comes up to cup your face, fingers carding through your hair and you feel the wet glide of his tongue, prompting you to open.

You do. Oh god, you do, and you taste the cotton candy as he licks into you. There’s the little tickle from his mustache, the pressure on your waist, the sparkling tingle along your spine and everything is delicious. His other hand is kneading at the curve of your hip, sliding down to your ass and he grabs you there, strong fingers splayed right between your cheeks, it’s firm and hungry and commanding.

He pulls you flush into him, and with a gently swaying motion against your belly, he lets you feel it. Feel what you do to him. Feel how much he wants you.

Your body goes slack and tense at the same time, loose limbs, loose chest, clenching cunt and hardening nipples.

“Fuck,” he gasps, pulling away just a bit, “fuck, you’re sweet.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer, not that you’d know what to say, his mouth is on yours again, his plush lips a perfect fit against yours, his tongue swirling inside you. And the kiss lingers, languid, unhurried, his hands roaming your figure, strong and slow, kneading your curves and using the grip to press you closer and closer into him.

When your fingers thread through his hair, you give his locks a little tug that has him grunting into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, but his mouth remains on you, lips sucking along the edge of your jaw, teeth scraping down your throat, slick pooling sticky and wet between your hips.

There’s the ghost of a bite over your pulse point; you moan into it and suddenly, time accelerates. His kisses get frantic, he’s devouring you, only lifting his lips off your skin to tug off your t-shirt, deft fingers unclasping your bra. You pull so hard on his shirt you might as well rip it, but he only bites you harder, pushing into you stronger. The back of your knees hit the coffee table, you fall onto the couch.

And that’s when everything slows again.

His gaze, raking over your naked breasts as he stands before you. His tongue darting between his parted lips. His movements, as he unbuckles his belt.

You get lost in the sight of his chest, bare, broad, golden in the orange semi-darkness.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, baby,” he says, and the endearment shoots right through you.

You’re never recovering from this night, this much you can tell. You’ll want this man forever, you are so fucked.

You manage to get rid of your shoes and your jeans, but it’s a damn miracle with how much your hands are shaking. He’s toed off his boots and unbuttoned his pants without taking his eyes off you even for a split second.

There’s something carnivorous in the half-smile dancing on his lips. He’s palming the bulge tenting his black boxer briefs, and you’re about to slide off your panties without a second thought when he stops you.

“Wait. Bedroom. C’mere.”

Yes, sir.

You stand up on wobbly legs and his hand skims around the curve of your hip, down the swell of your ass. He takes your arm, lifts it up to wrap around his neck, and you follow, diligently, circling your other arm around his broad shoulders.

He picks you up like you fucking weigh nothing, how strong is this guy? What do they feed them in the Army?

He keeps you there for a moment, your legs wrapped around his tapered waist, skin on skin, his head slightly tilted up and his eyes boring into yours. His hands grasping your ass cheeks, a bruising grip, the tip of his fingers reaching into that hollow curve at the top of your thighs, under the line of your panties, where you’re soaked with want for him.

Your heart is beating so fast, pounding so hard, it’s going to tear out of your chest. Land right into his.

The crease in his brow deepens, his gaze on you intensifies, thoughts clouding his rich brown eyes. He opens his mouth, as if to say something, but closes it again.

“Frankie—” you start, but he cuts you in.

“Wait. I need to know this is not a one-time thing. I’m gonna see you again, right?”

“Oh,” you breathe out.

There are people laughing outside in the street. The sound of a police siren in the distance. A dog barking. You commit everything to memory. The amber darkness, the city noises, the hope in his eyes. The sensation of his strong hold, and that of your hardened nipples grazing his chest.

“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, and he smiles, that wide dimpled smile you’d do everything for, his fingers burrowing a little deeper into your flesh.

He carries you into the bedroom, bathed in the same orange semi-darkness, and lays you onto his bed. You sink into the fluffy cottony material of the comforter that smells like him. Leather and musk and safety. He hovers over you, eyes locked on yours.

He rocks gently into you, just a faint press, his waist spreading your hips open, his hands roaming along the expanse of your naked skin, palming your breasts. The fabric of his tight boxers catches at your soaked panties, the button of his jeans biting into your belly.

“Can I taste you?” he asks, his voice a low husk, and for a second, you think he’s asking if he can kiss you again, but you quickly register, and your eyes grow wide.

You nod, unable to articulate around the anticipation swelling in your throat.

He makes a start at moving over you, but stops, and instead leans in to kiss you again. A wide, hungry kiss, licking into you avidly, pressing into you greedily, swallowing your moans as your fingernails run through his nape and into his hairline.

He pulls away, and you all but whine, chasing his lips, rising to your elbows. Unwavering, he moves down on the bed, and there’s another flash of that carnivorous smile as he takes off his jeans, as he kneels between your legs.

You watch, wide-eyed and ragged breath, as he brushes his knuckles along that curve at the top of your thigh, thick fingers hooking under the elastic band of your panties, pulling it to the side. He smiles at you again, before his head dips.

His tongue parts your fold, and your head lolls back between your shoulders with a strangled cry. His hand pushing up the back of your knee, spreading you wider than you ever thought your body capable of, he licks into you with a rumbling groan.

The curled tip of his tongue dives deep into your cunt, tasting you with thorough strokes, but he lifts his head with a pained grunt and a sliver of self-consciousness rips through your chest.

“Fuck, baby, I think you’re going to ruin me.”

Your arms buckle, your back hitting the mattress, and he slides your panties down, twisting them around his wrist, before hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, and he buries his face into your cunt again.

The wet glide of this tongue is hot and heavy, licking in broad stripes, sucking on your clit, thrusting into you. Arousal pools in, sticky and rich, at the base of your spine, streaming down your walls. You moan and wither against his mouth, and he chases your movements, cueing his ministrations to your reactions.

Wet, explicit sounds fill the bedroom. He plays you like an instrument, your hips bucking against his face, wanton whimpers spilling out of you like music, fingers threading through his curls, and he brings you close, so close to your release, without ever letting you tip over the edge.

He’s taking his sweet time about it, true to his word, and you're begging now, sweet little moans you didn’t know your voice could carry, Frankie, Frankie please.

Gently, he eases your legs down, sitting back on his haunches on the bed. It’s a hitched breath, a broken little cry as cold air hits your soaked cunt but he runs a soothing hand along your inner thigh.

“Shh, I got you, baby. I got you.”

Empty. The word flashes through your dazed brain, and you turn your head to the side to hide your face in the comforter.

You’re empty, and you want him to fill you up. And you don’t know what you’re hiding from, if it’s from him or the embarrassment of being so fucking needy or the magnitude of your desire, but there’s this abyss inside you only him can fill and fuck, you’ve never felt this vulnerable before. Why now? Why him?

His finger presses at your entrance and you let out a quivering breath. A shallow thrust, an easy glide, and he adds another. Your back arches with relief. A flex of his digits, and he’s stroking a soft spot inside your cunt you didn’t know existed.

With your last shred of strength, you lift your head up. He’s watching you, his boxers pulled down, practiced fingers circling his cock, dragging slowly up and down along the length of it. The orange glow from the streetlights ripples over his skin in amber shades and dark shadows. Your eyes trace the broad span of his chest, his strong, corded neck, the dark crown of his curls.

The man looks like a fucking god.

“Jesus,” you whimper, and he chuckles, that wolfish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The bottom half of his face glints in the semi-darkness, shiny with your slick. Precome dribbling over his knuckles. This is fucking filthy. You revel in it.

Your head drops with a soundless laugh, hips swaying along with his stroking fingers.

You’re going to lose your mind with how good it feels, you think, but then it gets even worse, or better, when he lowers his thumb to your clit, rubbing smooth circles over it and your chest heaves with a silent plea.

Soon, a tremor sizzles along your thighs, your release coiling brisk and strong at the center of you. It builds up like electricity, like liquid fire, potent and fast and white-hot.

Your entire body is alight with it, it travels down every nerve-ending and you come undone, you fucking unravel, his name dragging out on your lips.

He lowers himself to slant his mouth over your cunt and you recoil, but he’s careful, his tongue darting swiftly into you, drinking your release with greedy groans.

When he’s sure to have it all, he moves back over you, his face out of focus through your glazed eyes, the bulk of him engulfing you, his heady scent filling your lungs.

“Wanna taste how sweet you are?” he asks, and you nod, sprawled out, boneless, pliant.

His hand hinges your jaw open, thumb on your bottom lip. His spit rolls down his tongue into your open mouth and his hooded eyes, black with want, flicker down to your throat as you swallow it all.

“Oh, you’re a good girl,” he marvels, and the praise is like a shockwave, like a second high, it coats your palate and sticks to your skin. You could swear it’s fucking tangible.

You need more, more of him, more of that, but you’re not sure what’s next. This is uncharted territory. No man has ever prioritized your pleasure over his, before.

You lift your hips off the mattress, bucking into him, but he frowns.

“If you need time—”

“I need you inside me,” you plead.

“It’s a lot more than two fingers, baby,” he warns and yes, you can tell, with the heavy weight of his cock thrumming hot and angry against your belly.

“I can take it.”

He huffs a smile, but it quickly falls when you tip your chin, wrapping his thumb between your lips. Your tongue curls around the pad of it as you suck on it, and you hear him gulp. One all.

Oh, but he was right, it’s more, much more than two fingers, and his first thrust, however gentle, however shallow, has you squirming around the stretch of him. Your fingernails digging into his arms, he grunts with the effort, pushing in slowly, pulling out, and in again, sweat beading along his spine, restraint tensing his jaw.

You lift your head, scraping your teeth over that bare patch in his scruffy jaw.

“I can take it,” you repeat, and he growls, head dropping into the curve of your neck, sinking his sharp teeth into the soft skin at the base of your throat.

He shoves himself in down to the base, and you cry out, but he doesn’t stop. He moves into you. With deep thorough thrusts, fast-paced and rough, he fills you up, just like you wanted, just like you asked, skin catching around his girth at your entrance. Sucking hard on the tender skin of your neck, sharp little bruises blooming in purple flecks along the column of your throat.

Knees hitched up high along his sides, you feel sweat breaking on your forehead as you ease into his relentless rhythm, into the impossible size of him, into the pleasure-pain, because this is what you wished for. To feel him tonight. To feel him still tomorrow. And perhaps the day that follows.

His grunts fan the shell of your ear, sending more slick rushing down your walls. His hand squeezes your breast, his trigger finger and thumb pinching your nipple, merciless, and your cunt starts to flutter along his length, a frantic collapsing of your walls, eyes clenched shut under your pinched brow.

“Oh god, I’m so close,” you whine, and he straightens up without breaking his rhythm.

“I wanna see your face when you come on my cock”, he growls, hooking his elbow under your knee, using it for leverage to bear you down on his cock as he picks up the fucking pace.

His broad hand splayed reverently over your belly, the heel of it is a steady pressure over your clit, and when you come, your whole body quaking with the force of your second relief, he quickly follows, pulling out just in time to spurt thick pearly ropes over your quivering skin.

“Oh shit, look at you,” he pants, before he collapses on the bed next to you, chest heaving.

You lie there side by side for a beat, the room around you slowly coming back into focus. That damn dog is still barking, the night traffic a low and distant hum.

Would it… would it be okay, acceptable, if you gathered his come with your fingers and licked them clean? Could you ask him to fuck your mouth, next? Or should you scamper off the bed to gather your clothes and leave? What’s the common protocol here? No one has ever turned you into this feral, greedy little monster before.

He clears his throat. Oh fuck, that’s it. He’s gonna politely hint that you should now be leaving the premises.

“Can you stay the night?”

Your eyes flutter shut. A hindered little sob rattles inside your chest. You address a heartfelt thank you to your lucky star for the midnight cravings that placed you in that corner deli the same night as him. Fuck, you’ll throw one in for that armed robber too.

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask.

He turns to his side to face you, folding his arm and propping his chin in his hand. His soft brown eyes meet yours. And there’s that gentle smile that swells up your heart three sizes.

“Yes, please.”

****

End note: the opening scene is very much inspired by one of the fair scenes in Anchor Stitch, on Ao3. Not for every one, but one of my all-time favourites. Also, this is fanfiction, so I wasn't going to bother with a fucking condom, but I know you're smarter than that.

Part 1

#the corner deli #crimson and clover #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #happy frankie friday #frankie friday #triple frontier fanfic #the pilot™️

178 notes · View notes

jolapeno · 29 days ago

Text

travelling

frankie morales x reader | wc: <500 | warnings: all fluff

the trees outside your window have lost their leaves, whirring past bare, stretching up to the blue-streaked sky. warm yellow hangs in its own glow, smeared by thin wisps of white—no rain, you suppose, that’s one thing.

the taste of coffee lingers on your tongue, hands still warmed by the empty flask. there’s some song playing, one frankie knows all the words too—mouth moving around the lyrics, making you wonder if he belts them when you’re not here. he smiles on occasion, hand slipping over your thigh to give it a squeeze—stomach warming, trying to flip as you mirror his expression.

his hat sits in the back, tossed over the chair alongside your sweater and his coat. the aircon stirs a single curl, the sun catching it through the windscreen—illuminating the rich browns and flecks of grey.

beautiful, perfect, you think.

not just the shades that define him but the entirety of him. from the one prominent dimple to the deep-depth of his eyes; the patch amongst his wiry hair to the undone belt at his waist because he can’t drive with it fastened.

I love you, you say out of nowhere, cutting through the comfortable silence that’s grown in the last thirty-three minutes. without taking his eyes from the road, his fingers find yours—slotting between them, gripping tightly, bringing your hand to his lips. love you too, he whispers, pressing it to your knuckles, skin and bones.

a little gift to you all. love, jo

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #happy frankie friday #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fluff #Francisco morales fluff #Frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier fanfic

115 notes · View notes

thedrarrylibrarian · 3 months ago

Text

Hi, if you don't remember me (because it's been so long), I'm the Drarry Librarian, and sometimes I write recs and other times I invite guests onto the blog to share their favorite recs! Thank goodness we have people like this month's guest reccer, @littlewinnow who is extremely talented and creates wonderful fanart! I adore all their pieces, but especially any that involve baby Scorpius. That said, have you seen their most recent fall-inspired piece? If not, definitely go check it out!

@littlewinnow has been waiting so patiently to give their guest rec, and it's definitely one that you don't want to miss. Without further ado, here it is!

Hello! I’m super honoured that I was given the chance to participate in Happy Hour! Thank you so much thedrarrylibrarian, you’re incredible!!

When it came to picking a fic to recommend, my mind immediately went to one of the first Drarry fics I've read, which still makes me grin silly whenever I think about it.

The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy by @magpiefngrl (37,600 words, rated E)

Zacharias Smith writes a tell-all about the D.A. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are not happy about it.

This fic introduced me to one of my absolute favourite Drarry tropes, Draco exploring Muggle culture! Alongside Harry who gets to watch his fascination unfold. The setting was super intriguing and I instantly became absorbed in Magpie_fngrl’s humour and fun characterizations of the boys. I was utterly charmed by their boyish antics that I bursted out laughing at every interaction.

“Potter smirked. “You like something Muggle,” he crooned and Draco made to punch him on the arm, but Potter dodged and Draco tried again, and they ended up doing a sort of dance, until Potter nodded at the irksome assistants who looked ready to intervene.”

I adored watching them become friendly, silly and sweet. I became so fond of Dracos curiosity with muggle culture that to this day I continue to reread this fic constantly for a boost of serotonin. I hope you fall for this fic like I did! I’m thankful to magpie_fngrl and all the amazing Drarry authors who’ve created impactful fics that inspired me so much to draw Drarry and be part of this fandom!

Have a lovely day,

Winnow

Thank you, dear Winnow for your great rec! I know I'm due a cozy reread on this fic, and if you've never read it before, you're definitely in for a real treat!

Lots of Love and Happy Fall, Y'all!

The Drarry Librarian

#littlewinnow #littlewinnow guest rec #drarry rec #lots of love and happy friday #Friday fic rec #fic rec friday #friend of the library #friends of the library #guest rec #drarry fanfic rec #magpiefngrl

92 notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR ONE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni, excessive use of pet names (to annoy reader), excessive use of fuck (again, to annoy reader)

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.1k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

1:00 ─ㅇ───────────────── 24:00

HOUR ONE - 4:00 PM

You had a lot of regrets. You were a college student – it was hardwired in your psyche to make an endless stream of stupid decisions you would come to rue.

There was that time you signed up for an 8 AM math class during your freshman year. There was the time your boss walked in on you spitefully gossiping specifically about him and his lack of leadership skills (you had been fired the next week, no surprise). There was that time Steve Harrington convinced you to get matching tattoos with him while drunk last summer, and now you had to explain to each new person you met why you had a ghost giving a thumbs down with a speech bubble stating ‘BOO’ on your ankle.

You had made plenty of dumb mistakes, enough to last you a lifetime.

But this? This had to take the trophy home for your worst impulsive decision yet.

“I’m not going in there,” you huff, crossing your arms as you lean miserably against the wall across from the open door of apartment 2C. An apartment you’d avoided ardently over the last year. To the point of even braving severe FOMO after turning down hanging out with your friends, solely because they’d be hanging out here.

“C’mon,” Steve stands in the threshold, waiting impatiently for your tantrum to end. You had to hand it to him – he had a way of being beautifully tolerant of your misbehavior over the years. All your sour moods, all your childish antics, all your moody mornings. Steve was there for them all the last three years, “Five hundred dollars, remember? You just have to survive a day, and then you’ll be rich.”

There it was – the only thing that could possibly motivate you to make such a catastrophic agreement with alcohol and drugs out of the equation. Money.

It had taken nearly an hour for everyone to agree on the terms the night before when the bet was first born, but in the end, it seemed fair enough to all involved parties. The wager was five hundred dollars for you and five hundred dollars for Eddie if you two managed, partially funded by your friends pooling their money and partially funded by the Harrington Inheritance. The two of you would set base in Eddie’s apartment, considering you were living in the dorms, and you were instructed to send hourly proof to the group chat. A group chat, that ironically, Eddie was not a part of.

You’re not sure why. You never cared to ask.

Regardless, five hundred dollars was a lot of money to a broke college student. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d managed to keep more than one hundred dollars in your account for more than a few hours. It was the kind of money that could pay for a few months’ worth of groceries, that would give you the freedom to properly go out rather than settle for another night in with movies your friend group had already seen ten times over. The kind of money you would probably flounder with once it was in your hand.

“And if I don’t survive?” you sigh dramatically, leaning further into the wall, your bag you’d packed for your time growing heavier in your grasp, “What if, he, like, murders me, Steve?”

“He’s not going to murder you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“If he was going to, he already would have.”

“I’ve never been around him long enough to give him a chance! What if that’s the only reason he agreed? What if this was his plan all along? He gets me alone for twenty four hours, I mysteriously disappear, and next thing you know, they find my body in the local canal-”

“While I’m flattered you think so highly of me that I would be capable of planning something so extensively,” the devil himself appears behind Steve’s shoulder, looking to be just as irritated as you, “Harrington’s right. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now.”

“Right. Cause that’s reassuring,” you snap in Eddie’s direction.

Steve takes a deep breath, no doubt mentally preparing himself for whatever bickering is about to ensue as he sidesteps so he’s not stuck in the middle of your line of fire.

“Listen, are we doing this or not? Because if not, I’ve got shit to do,” Eddie glowers at you, tapping his foot impatiently.

You hate him. You really, really hate him. In the most earnest sense of the word. He was impossible, he was cocky, he was obnoxious. And it never helped that he hated you just as much, always adding fuel to the fire. From the moment the two of you had met, it was instant friction. You said go, he said stop. You wanted pizza, he wanted Chinese. Every time a small, mundane decision had to be made as a group, he’d be sure to announce his opinion, always the opposite of yours.

You’re convinced he solely exists to be the bane of your existence. It’s probably the best part of his day.

“Five hundred dollars,” you mutter under your breath, finally lifting your bag and leaving your spot against the wall. It was now or never. If you didn’t get this over with now, you’d walk away and be army-crawling financially through life again. You needed the five hundred dollars more than you care to admit.

It had to be worth it. It had to be.

The moment you enter the apartment, you’re hit with the scent of him. Something musky, something of subtle spice. It’s all tobacco and pot, cheap cologne and boy. It’s easily overwhelming, and you almost turn around to make a cheap shot at Eddie regarding it before Steve shuts the front door and engages him into conversation.

Maybe you’d get used to it within the first few hours.

The rest of the apartment is decorated exactly how you’d expect from Eddie. There’s a certain messy quality to it all without being dirty. The couch looks worn, probably having not been brand new to begin with when Eddie found or bought it. There’s a coffee table covered in random papers, joined by two empty beer bottles and a couple of random dice. He has a TV, albeit small, and the entertainment center that it stands upon is littered by various nerdy collector’s items.

“Welcome to my palace,” he calls out from behind you, no longer distracted by Steve, “Sorry if it’s not up to your standards.”

“It’s fine,” you gruffly reply, turning back around to look at him, “Where, uh, can I put my things?”

The wicked grin that slowly spreads over his face can only spell out bad news, “Wherever. You’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

“Dude,” Steve sighs.

“What? It’s a one bedroom apartment, and I’m not giving her my bed,” Eddie explains as he brushes past the two of you and heads for his kitchen.

If it were anyone else, you’d insist that it’s fine. Practicality tells you that he shouldn’t have to give up his bed. It’s his apartment, his room, his bed – in short, his rules. But it’s Eddie, so the fact that he’s made this decision without you only stokes the burning coals of disdain. Plus, the couch looked like the farthest thing from comfortable.

“Whatever,” you scoff. You weren’t going to let him know he was already creeping beneath your skin. You were playing the long game here; you were going to start off civil, keep track of just how many offenses he committed against you, and then strike back. “It’s just one night. I’ll live.”

“Unless I murder you!” his voice calls out to you and Steve from the kitchen.

“Unless he murders me,” you agree with a scowl.

Steve puts a caring hand on your shoulder, forcing a frown that’s completely insincere before he says, “What do you want on your gravestone? Also, what’s your preference for flowers at your funeral?” He breaks into laughter as you smack him roughly on his shoulder, “Sorry! Sorry, geez. Just want to have all my ducks in the row. I’ll be sure to ask him the same thing.”

Part of you is absolutely convinced this can only end in bloodshed. You can’t recall a single time you and Eddie have lasted more than ten minutes in a room together without escalating into a full blown screaming match. There was even a time you’d thrown a glass at him at one of Steve’s parties, narrowly missing his head as he’d ducked and let the glass shatter against the wall of the shared apartment with Robin. You’d felt awful remorse towards Steve in the end. As for Eddie? You’d only wished your aim had been better.

Steve disappears into the kitchen and you’re left alone once more, wandering as you inspect some of the collectibles more closely by the TV. Most items were from the Lord of the Rings franchise, a few Star Wars items, and an abundance of D&D figurines. All things that you went through phases of piqued interest for, but nothing terribly exciting. They had been just that – phases. Apparently, when it came to Eddie, such things didn’t exist. The apartment really just looked as if someone had taken a teenage boy’s room, and let it explode over more extensive square footage. As if he entered the typical phases for boys his age in high school, and never grew up.

Just as you reach out to grab one of the D&D figurines, a three-headed dragon, Eddie enters the living room with Steve at his side.

“Hey! Don’t fucking touch that!” Eddie shouts, making you jump back, finger no longer hovering over his glorified action figure.

“Jesus Christ!” you shout back just as loudly, glaring up at him, “Ever heard of an inside voice?”

He completely ignores the comment as his nostrils flare and he stands between you and the entertainment center, “We need to set some ground rules. Rule one, do not touch my shit, especially this stuff. They’re collectibles, fucking rare and crazy expensive. Keep your hands to yourself, princess.”

The nickname is a match, striking against the roughness of your hatred, ready to burst into the flames of one of the classic screaming matches between the two of you. Steve can see it clear as day.

He clears his throat immediately, “Alright, alright. Calm down, children,” you open your mouth to argue against that nickname, but he doesn't leave pause for you to interject, “I’m leaving now. I know we joked about you two killing each other but…. Just, please don’t? It’s not worth it. Think of the money.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches, his eyes unmoving from you as you muster up just as hateful of a glare.

“Hey! Are you two listening to me?” he claps his hands, and the staring contest ends as you both reluctantly offer him your attention, “I’m serious. Who knows? Maybe you two can come out of this friends.”

Friends. The mere idea makes you cackle cruelly, Eddie balking immediately.

“As if,” you sneer as Eddie spits, “Over my dead body.”

Steve simply shrugs, “You say that now. We’ll see what changes over the next twenty four hours.”

Nothing, you want to say. Nothing is going to change over the next twenty four hours, except I’ll be five hundred dollars richer.

You join Eddie in walking Steve back to the door, even though you technically don’t have to because, technically, it’s not your apartment. But it’s still the polite thing to do, and Steve is still your friend, so you do.

Eddie opens the door, and you stand a few steps away from them, shifting back and forth on your feet awkwardly. Steve pauses to check the watch on his wrist before turning and facing the two of you a final time.

“Alright, so, it’s currently four-fifteen. That means you-” he pauses and points directly to you, “-need to send proof of you both being alive, well, and still together at five-fifteen. You guys can leave the apartment, but you have to go with each other, and you can’t ditch each other wherever you might end up going. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” you answer in monotone, Eddie not saying a word.

“Good. Oh, by the way,” Steve already has one foot out the door, and you know it’s deliberate. Whatever he’s about to say, you’re not going to be happy about, “Expect randomized calls from all of us throughout it all. Including through the night. Cool? Cool! See you guys tomorrow, and keep your phones charged!”

Both you and Eddie are already attempting to argue, immediately upset by this detail that was kept from both of you, but Steve is already jogging down the hallway, away from the chaotic outburst.

“What the fuck?” Eddie says in annoyance, his face twisted terribly, “I didn’t agree to be babysat during this. I just want my fucking money.”

Even though you were also seething at the additional rule, you opt instead to make a comment to get under Eddie’s skin rather than complain in agreement. “I think you forgot an F-bomb somewhere in there.”

“Oh?” he turns to you, letting the door slam shut as he swings his arm, “My fucking bad. I fucking guess I should fucking watch my fucking language, yeah? Fucking oops.”

“Has anyone told you you’re fucking annoying?” you ask in contempt.

“Yeah. You.”

He stalks away from his entry way at that, clearly pleased at getting the last word in this argument. And it nearly kills you, because you have no choice but to follow him back into his living room.

It’s going to be a long twenty four hours.

He’s clearly heading towards the couch to sit down, and you can’t fathom staying in close proximity for another moment, so you begin to veer towards the kitchen.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks suddenly once your back is turned to him.

“The kitchen?” you glance over your shoulder, lifting an eyebrow, “Or is that not allowed?”

“Why are you going to the kitchen?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because it’s my fucking apartment.”

Right. He has a point. You won’t tell him that, but he has a point.

He’s rerouted himself from the couch towards the hallway you’re about to enter, towering over you as his lips settle into a predictable frown.

“Can you go more than ten seconds without dropping an F-bomb? Seriously,” you question, crossing your arms, “I just want water or something. Is that a crime?”

“To answer your first question,” he shifts around your body in the tight space, his hand brushing your hip. Both of you jump back at the contact as if even touching each other burns, “No. I fucking can’t. Not when I know it bothers you so much, sweetheart,” he’s once again using a nickname he knows will irritate you on purpose as he walks into what you assume the kitchen is. And once again, you’re following behind him like a lost puppy, having to swallow your pride like a jagged pill, “Secondly, one of my rules is to not touch my shit, so… Yeah. It is a crime by the law of the land.”

“Law of the land?” you snort, rolling your eyes, “My God. What are you going to do? Call the police? ‘Hello, yes, 911? I’d like to report a crime. A girl I voluntarily let into my home got herself a glass of water.’”

You choose to purposefully pitch your voice higher rather than lower as you clearly mock him. It gets the reaction you were seeking out - his entire body stiffens as he stops in front of a cabinet.

“Congratulations,” he says slowly, turning at an agonizing pace to face you, “It’s a new record. It’s been less than five minutes alone, and you’ve already gotten on my fucking nerves.”

“Good,” is all you can reply.

He huffs in response before he goes back to whatever he was doing before, opening the cabinet to expose a small assortment of glasses and mugs alike. None of them match – all of them were clearly either bought at different times, or gifts, in the mugs case. They’re the type you might find at Spencer’s, all pop culture references or character faces. He grabs one of the smaller, plain clear cups, turning around to hand it to you.

Before your hand can wrap around it, he yanks it back momentarily, “Now, if you decide to throw this cup at my head like a raging bitch, it’s plastic. Minimal damage. Keep that in mind, yeah?”

Once he’s gotten in his smart-ass remark, he lets you take the cup from him.

So he’s also thinking of Steve’s party. Good to know.

“That’s fine. I’ve practiced my throws since then. I’m aiming for your crotch next time.”

If you two were friends, it might be funny. You would have said it in light-hearted cadence, he would have thrown his head back in laughter, and it could be passed off as a simple inside joke between two acquaintances. But you aren’t friends, and you say it in a convincingly serious tone, and he doesn’t even smile.

“You can get water from the fridge,” he informs you flatly, “Try not to break it.”

“It’s a fridge that dispenses water. I know how it works, asshole. I’ve used one before.”

“You never know,” he shrugs. You expect him to walk away, to leave you to it, but instead he leans against his counter and watches you.

And he thought he was the one being babysat over simple phone calls?

You choose to bite your tongue for once as you fill the cup half full of water, taking your time as you sip some down, feeling his eyes on you the entire time.

It’s only been a few seconds of silence. Blissful, wonderful, divine silence. But of course, it’s Eddie, and the moment he notices you begin to relax, he has to speak up and ruin it.

“If I knew all it takes to shut you up is to keep your mouth occupied, sweetheart, I would have done it sooner,” he comments, and it takes practiced patience to slowly lower the cup and swallow what water is in your mouth without bursting with rage. But he has to comment on even that, “Aw, and you swallow? Just full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

You turn to him, face flooding a brilliant shade of red as your eyes narrow. In the most virulent tone you can muster, you only respond with, “I hate your guts.”

He grins. It’s not friendly – it’s downright bellicose. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Yeah. It’s going to be a very long twenty four hours.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #twenty four hours #there will be no y/n by the way haha #this was fun i love dropping this when i know half my mutuals are sleeping #happy friday or saturday depending on where you are!!

2K notes · View notes

noxturnalnymph · 8 months ago

Text

Happy Ending [masterlist]

Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie’s spent the last twenty years with you on his mind. He’s watched a video you put in his pocket the last time he saw you more times than he can count. Have you been thinking of him too?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SLOW BURN, time skip (~20 years), friends-to-lovers, this is 100% from Frankie’s POV - refers to main female character/reader as “you”, she is physically described in some ways (shoulder-length hair, hair long enough to pull back, wearing glasses, having freckles and scars, wearing form-fitting clothing, being shorter than Frankie, Frankie is able to pick her up, reader’s pubic hair is described), reader has a definitive age - there is a 2.5 year age gap between her and Frankie, reader engages in different forms of sex work, talk of drugs and addiction, mention of the reader having children, talk of breakups and divorce, addiction issues causing estrangement from children, talk of death and grief, mention of TF canon death, general warning for any/all sex acts, a little bit of spanking🧀

Part I (5608)

Part II (4184)

Part III (3792)

Part IV (4028)

Part V (4292)

AO3 Link

Thank you to @iamasaddie for their prompt: "It's Always Been You" when I chose "slutty little knee" in their writing challenge 2.0 - I am SO sorry this is VERY late, but I took on a monster of a project (my own fault.) Thank you for your help over the last week, I could NOT have finished this without you - @strang3lov3 - you helped me come up with the idea, made me this amazing moodboard, made my summary.... you kinda did everything. Except write it I guess, I did that part. You're so amazing and I'm so lucky to have you in my corner. I love you. (and big thanks to @beefrobeefcal and @covetyou for the motivation and beta-reading)

#francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #happy ending #noxturnalnymph #noxturnalpascal #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #Frankie Friday #writing challenge 2.0 #iamasaddie prompt

191 notes · View notes

kuethemoon · 4 months ago

Text

iwtv fanfic friday: lesbianism onto the guys

@oldbutchdaniel I'm joining the fun. it's yuri time

two-headed mother by tisiphones // e, 8.6k

"Poor darling," Armand says, and the condescension in his voice is so awful and so offensive and Lestat wants to curl up in it and never, ever leave. "It's okay to let yourself be taken care of for just one night. You can't help what you need." It's Lestat's last night in Paris. Armand makes it a memorable one.

actually world changing. mommy issues galore it's sooo fun and this fic is part of several that got me into armandstat

super graphic ultra modern girl by armanddelioncourt // e, 0.9k

“I want to watch how you insert your tampon.” “Wha—No, you weirdo,” she glanced around the mercifully-deserted aisle. “You can’t just ask me that in the store!”

yummmmmy period blood fic!!! i love period blood fics sooo much and they're so cute

More than Neither by apoptoses // e, 6.2k

Annoying, how hot it is to see Armand kneeling on the dirty bathroom floor like this. Without her heels to compensate for their height difference she looks small, delicate. Her face is on the level with Daniel’s hips and Daniel knows what’s about to happen. Armand has probably been planning for this since they stepped into the store, she realizes. There’s no way she’d catch Daniel bleeding for the first time and let that go. (Daniel gets her period. Armand helps. Written for the Queens of the Damned prompt butch/femme.)

another period blood fic pls bartender! if I tip you can add them being freaky in a public toilet? thank you very much I'll take the lot pls!! the way daniel and armand handle being women and lesbians is so well written. dyke stamp of approval. if you're starting to notice a trend don't tell me

she loves me, she loves me not by IguessIllchangeitlater // e, 2.3k

“Sure,” she panted and raised her head, tried to find Armand’s eyes, but kept focusing on her fanged smile instead. “I will wear that fucking skirt.” Push out, push in, push out, push in, Daniela was going to come just from that, she was going to die. “I can’t-ah, I can’t wear my underwear with that, I would look silly.” Push in, push out. “Yes,” Armand agreed. She rested her head on the mattress, next to Daniela’s knee and busied herself with mouthing the blood that was still there. The blood that she drew earlier. “So, what’s the plan, boss?” Daniela managed to raise herself on her elbows. Armand’s beguiled eyes looked like that of a cat in the light of the night. “For the underwear situation?” “You will wear none, of course.”

butch daniel wearing a skirt because armand said so was an idea that bounced around in my head for a whole week so you know how excited I was to read this. hell yeah they're so bad to each other

sweet things for the sea by ulatraviolet_glow // e, 2.6k

Danielle Molloy, a runaway posing as a young man on a trading ship dreams of a better life, but when her dreams find her falling overboard and into the arms of the woman of her dreams, how disturbed will Dani be when she realises that the woman is not human at all, but a creature of the sea?

siren armand do you know how much you mean to meeeeee I lay awake at night thinking of you sinfully. siren armand...

one of your girls by sleepdeprivedsurgeon // m, 4.7k

“I was thinking maybe I’d go with my girlfriend,” Daniel says. Armand sucks in a breath, a familiar blend of excitement and fever rearing its head inside him. This isn’t new— nothing is, after nearly five centuries— but it’s certainly been a while. Louis doesn’t care what he looks like, what he is, just as long as he stays below him. On his knees in the endless confessional. Marius would dress him up sometimes: Helen of Troy, Cassandra, Mary Magdalene. When the painting was finished he’d push his skirts up and take him there in the studio.

technically not yuri but beautiful feminization + crossdressing armand and I had to put it here. special treat!

#🩸#happy reading!!!#fanfic friday #iwtv fanfic friday #iwtv #amc iwtv #devil's minion #armandstat #one day my butch4butch dm fic will be here. one day i promise

76 notes · View notes

ladymochimochi · 5 months ago

Text

✦♡✦ Rainy Mornings ✦♡✦

Katakuri x Fem!Reader [AO3 Link] Description: On a cozy, rainy morning, you and Katakuri spend some time together in bed. Tags: Morning sex, Sleepy sex, Quickie, Hand job, Kata & Reader are married, Size difference (Reader is slightly sized up to better fit Kata), 18+ MDNI Words: 751 ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

A distant rumble of thunder brought you out of your sleep this morning. As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you could hear the sound of rain outside. It made you not want to get out of bed and just stay nice and cozy but there were things do be done. You started to sit up to get out of bed when large arms wrapped around you, dragging you to the massive, warm form of your husband.

“Not yet.” You heard Katakuri grumble above you and it seemed like he had the same thought as you. You snuggled your face into his chest, the two of you now laying on your sides towards each other. Being in his arms on a rainy morning like this was absolutely perfect.

Maybe you could wait a little longer to get the day started.

He gripped you tighter so your bodies pressed together more and you felt his arousal against you.

Perhaps you could wait quite a while longer to get the day started.

You pulled slightly away from him to trace your fingers along the lines of his tattoos. He sighed contently at your touch and your fingers followed those pink lines down to waistband of his sweat pants. Using one hand to tug down the front of his sweat pants, you started to stroke his large shaft using the other.

He choked out a gasp at your actions and it only fueled you to keep going. Your hand went up and down his cock, earning soft groans from your husband. You looked up at him and could see him staring down at you, a blush on his face, his eyebrows knitted together, panting slightly.

Seeing him like this made pressure start to build in your lower stomach. It was a favorite sight of yours - your big, strong husband a whimpering, blushing mess and all because of you.

After a few more minutes of stroking him, you pulled your hand away to then put it on his hip. You pulled him towards you as you rolled onto your back and he followed your lead. Katakuri was now hovering above you, your legs lazily wrapped around his hips. One hand braced near your head resting on the pillows, he used his other to take off his pants. You pulled your nightie over your head, the two of you now fully naked together.

Katakuri dipped his head down to kiss you gently. The two of you long ago had found a way to kiss without his fangs harming you and you adored kissing this man. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you deepened the kiss as he lined himself up with your entrance.

As he slowly entered you, you gasped against his lips and his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned around his tongue and the two of you sloppily made out as he thrusted into you, stretching your pussy around his large cock. The stretch quickly turned from slight discomfort into pleasure as he lazily rocked his hips.

While you loved how fast and passionate your usual sex with him was, this slow, sleepy sex was just right for this rainy morning.

He reached his hand in between the two of you and rubbed his thumb against your clit. You broke away from the kiss to throw your head back and moan loudly. Katakuri moved his lips down to your neck to begin kissing and gently nipping there, still slightly hovering above your body so he didn’t crush you.

His attention all over you had you panting and clawing at his back.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You breathily moaned, already feeling your orgasm building. With your nails digging into his back and you trying to rock your hips to match his pace, Katakuri knew you were close.

“Come for me, baby.” He whispered against your neck. The soft command made you come undone and you arched your back, letting out a cry as your orgasm ripped through you. Your moans rang through your bedroom and Katakuri was not far behind you. With a few more thrusts, he groaned loudly and he filled you up with his cum.

The two of you laid there in silence for a moment, just trying to catch your breaths. You released your nails from his back and moved your hands to caress the back of his head and neck. He sighed softly against the skin of your neck and gave you another gentle kiss.

Yeah, the day could definitely wait.

#happy friday!#been kinda mia cause of family visiting these past few weeks but now i'm back!#also i do intend to write some katakuri smut with reader being normal human size one day but i'm still building myself up to it!!#my fanfics #katakuri smut #katakuri x reader #katakuri one piece #charlotte katakuri #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines

284 notes · View notes