#i just hate when I’m really in a flow and i have to fucking stop and wait because everything is constantly getting shittier

[abowlofpetuniasandawhale]

If windows 11 is going to have my computer basically be a useless frozen brick for five straight minutes after startup no matter how many stupid settings I disable then it should at least be honest and trap me on the login screen that whole time. Nothing more infuriating than just trying to open my email and watching it freeze and groan like I’m torturing it.

Like you are clearly not ready to go babygirl please just stop lying to me! I have task manager open, i can see how poorly you’re allocating resources, sweetheart, this is embarrassing

[st4rbwrry]

𝒞’𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐸, 𝐵𝑅𝒜𝒯.

aot headcannons + how they handle a brat ft. eren, armin, + onyankopon.

꒰ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ꒱ ꔫ . . . fem!reader, lowercase intended, nsfw twitter links, aggressive sex, choking, rough play, spanking, dacryphilia, punishment, bondage, oral [f + m.], squirting, praise, all of them are kinda mean but with reason, teasing, pet names dnt feel like listing, minors aren’t allowed! reblogs + comments are appreciated! ♡

EREN YEAGER

let’s just say eren likes to fuck you really hard when you piss him off. i’m talking putting you through the mattress. gotta make you feel his anger. the man will make you gag on his dick until your jaw aches, stating ‘since you like to run your fuckin’ mouth so much, make use of it’. he loves when your pretty lips glide along his dick, holding your head still as he hisses and groans, muttering ‘suck it, c’mon’ while he stuffs your throat with his heavy dick. when you use two hands to stroke him until he’s throwing his head back trying his best not to whimper. his moans get stuck in his throat when you suck him, eyes completely gone and his face shifting in pleasure. and for revenge for putting him in a position where he has to be mean to you in order for you to understand, he’d fuck you hard till you’re gushing all over him. licks his fat tongue up your neck as he moans in your ear and tells you ‘fuckin’ pretty, mama. takin’ that shit so good, girl.’ burying his dick deep into you it’s painfully good. he always loses his stress halfway through, kissing you like you mean the world to him, since you do. but, he’ll definitely make you beg for forgiveness, and beg to cum. ‘i can’t hear you, baby. say it. i wanna hear you. don’t go quiet now. you were talkin’ all that shit earlier so be a big girl and beg me to let you cum.’

ARMIN ARLERT

armin’s a tease at first. he likes to play with you before he fucks you really good, and i mean good. it’s enough for your legs to spasm and your pussy to squirt along his abdomen. he’s gentle when he starts, sucking on your neck, licking on your nipples as he rolls them under the pads of his thumbs. kissing your inner thighs and doing his best to avoid eating your pussy since you’re currently undeserving. your whines and trembles fuel him, and once he’s gotten a taste of you, slicking his thick tongue between your folds and releasing a guttural moan in your pussy, that’s when the demon comes to show. holding you down as you squirm and try to escape, using all of his upper body strength knowing you can’t fight him. armin will not hesitate to fuck you dumb. you’ve been a brat lately, knowing he hated when you sassed him. he’d always tell you ‘we’ll talk later’ and the talk is usually him fucking you straight. he likes to have you in every angle imaginable. loves to stare at your face as you scream his name, yank at the sheets, and even bite into his arm. he’ll grab your face and tell you to ‘watch me fuck you like the bad girl you are.’ kiss you sloppily as he drops his dick into you hard, every pound leaving you gasping for air. that blonde hair on his head covering his dangerous eyes, followed by weak whimpers and whines escaping his throat. ‘too pretty, love. keep suckin’ me deep. i can feel you cumming.’

ONYANKOPON

not the type to play games with you, at all. will cut any attitude you have extremely short. you seem to yap a lot, and he can live that. what he won’t deal with is a grown woman who throws temper tantrums like an adolescent. he’s usually understanding of most things, meaning he can sit you down and talk if needed. but some things just don’t get through that tiny skull of yours. now, now he has to push it into the bed to fuck some respect into you. he gets really deep to make you feel it all. won’t stop until you’re actually crying. he expects apologies, and they flow from your mouth airless. clearly, he won’t give up until he approves a real apology, not just one you spew just to let you cum. ‘told you stop talkin’ to me fuckin’ crazy. ima fuck the shit outta you’ he’ll groan, heat pooling in his stomach. he’s mad as fuck, and you feel the energy. struggling in the fabric he used to tie your wrists behind your back, whining into the pillow as he claps your ass back onto him. the rough baritone of his voice causing your head to spin. when his big hand wraps around your throat, he’ll pull your head to his chest as your back arches lower, swiveling his hips and fucking you quicker. ‘fuck yes, baby. tell daddy how sorry you are. right now.’ and you’ll tell him, because at this point you didn’t have a choice. his heavy hand lands numerous hits to your ass, biting his lip as you clench around his dick, drawing an orgasm from him sooner than yourself. then he’ll give your pussy some sloppy kisses after because he feels bad for making you so sore. <3

© 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.♡

[bainutwater85]

can i get nsfw headcanons about any naruto characters? your choice !!

characters: gaara, kiba, kakashi, shikamaru

cw: cum, anal, vibrators, dick sizes, fem reader with fem parts

a/n: hope u enjoy! also i’m writing for them during the time naruto and hinata got married (?) i know they were like 19-23 or 24

GAARA !

when you two are alone: he likes when you lay on him n he rubs your back inching his way down to you ass, rubbing it and kneading it in his hands.

twerk on this man, give him a lap dance i swear to god he won’t be disappointed by anything you shake. his eyes will be wide and he’ll have the biggest smile on his face, if y’all are drunk and doing this then you’ll definitely be fucking wherever you are at. Most likely will come in his pants..

his balls are tight and full, not big but average size for his age. Loves when you just lay next to him and invade his space then slipping a hand in his pants to massage his balls; especially when he’s cramping there to.

he’s not much of a sex guy but definitely prefers dry humping over the real dick in the ass thing, if yknow what i mean. you 2 just get the grind on..slow and sensual. & by dry humping— he’s not humping you like a wild animal, just dragging his boner across your leg/thigh. You do the same..just without ur panties (^_^)

Don’t get me wrong..he’ll have sex and release his load in you or on you a few times— he just has a..in between sex drive (?) basically: sex isn’t always on his mind unless you propose to it and if he’s having a rough day (which is almost everyday & barely resorts to sex to get relaxed) anywayss. With that being said i really feel like he likes to take sex slow so your foreplay will last about 15-20 mins and another 20 while he’s kissing every crack and creavice of your body.

⤴︎ i also feel like he’s big into role play. Like yes, i’ll be the princess and you’ll be the evil big bad wizard that needs my love and touch. Or yes you can be the UPS guy and i can be the mom of 2 college and highschool kids during the summer waiting for my dildo to arrive because me and my husband divorced a few months ago

he don’t lick pussy he SUCKS pussy. he don’t give you fast kitten licks he will head straight for the clit and suck on it like a pacifier and rub it when he’s done.

his cum has an easy flow and isn’t too thick but he spurts out a lot. Also average size with an average girth, 6.4 inches at best🙌🏾

KIBA !

biggg ash, GIRTH && LENGTH WISE. i’d say 6.6 at least. n he lovesss it when you whine and tell him it don’t or won’t fit & try to push him back a bit by his abdomen or run. just for him to grab you by the hips/waist and start pounding into you

unlike gaara he will dive in and lick your pussy clean. sorry not sorry, he has no pussy eating technique and does what he saw a man do on a porno he seen when he 12 years old. yeahhhp

why fuck one hole when you can fuck 3? we all say in usion. He’s an anal god & prefers the butthole than the vagina or mouth.

speaking of mouth..he likes a little teeth on his cock, not a lot tho😗 cause it “tickles” he says.

Guys..he does not have breeder balls..i’m sorry :(. They aren’t small they just aren’t as big but they don’t sag either..they’re TIGHT. tight like if he was to go soft rn his ball sacks would be a futon for his penis

also has bad ball cramps and whines so much when you can’t or won’t help him with it. But “its fine” he says, just don’t beg for any dick post- shark week 😒. && to top it all off he is a MASTER MASTURBATER. when he got with you he stopped watching porn and used his imagination with you being the the source of material.

sleeps bare butt ass naked with his balls all out jus free ballin like we’re in the paleoithic age💀

ass eater ass eaterr. he don’t care if you ain’t shower this morning he wants to go in and down. He’s a free and wild man when it comes to sex, LITERALLY.

whines the most and hates to admit it but he just can’t help how tight you are. Like you wrap around him just right and it makes him come on the spot sometimes

they don’t mind a bush or fuzzy peach. But kiba is the one to cry when you shave or get a wax down there 😗 the others don’t mind if it’s hairy, a little hair never hurt them and plus “we grown” kakashi, kiba and SHIKAMARU say in harmony 😭

+ all of the character listed above

KAKASHI !

always and i mean alwaysss has to have a hand on your ass and tits. it’s not even in a horny or sexual way— he just wants to squeeze and feel the squish of your body. Unknowingly massages them to and you don’t even point it out, then he’s moving his hand looking down at your nipple like “why is it hard?” man you just gave top tier massage that could clear migraines and cramps.

his dick is big and he knows ittt. Sitting on his lap is enough for his dick to go in ‘up mode’ he will nottt back down or let YOU back down when you tease him and try to leave him by hiself with a hardon, no ma’am..you’re gonna finish what you started.

never fully gets naked when you two are having sex. his shirt is off, pants down and his dick coming out the deisgined hole of his boxers. Your bra over your tits and panties pulled to the side.

he lives in the country and rural era of konoha so yes you suck his dick and he eats you out on his back patio, what about it?

doesn’t want you having any dildos, he doesnt know why it makes him so upset you need a FAKE cock to make you cum when you have him. The only sex toys he’ll allow is a vibrator and butt plug. Speaking of vibrators, he so fascinated by the way your plump pussy lips move when you use it😫

preps you all the time, you two could’ve been fucking since the day you got together, he’s still gonna prep you either way cause mans is BIG. he’s more of a shower than grower tho 😗

6.7in when soft and 7inch hard. His girth isn’t wide..it’s more on the skinny side but he reaches places better with the size and length. Once you cried so hard and almost reached your breaking point when his thrust kept getting deeper and slower cause he was hitting the entrance to your cervix and lord was it painful yet pleasing at once.

his balls are average but they sag, not low but they got some weight to em on the inside 😭

SHIKAMARU !

wants to makes movies with you and has made movies with you. But it’s premium tho so only you and him only see it.

always and i mean alwayssss has a hand in your panties or on your thigh. You two would be chillin in the living room, the floor or in the bed (most of the times the bed) and he’ll just sneak his through and just rub your clit. he doesn’t finger you just rubs you slowly, occupied with his phone and your pussy while he’s just strolling through social media and getting you off all at once.

fav position is most likely doggystyle. Why? because if you both are getting your freak on and wanting to watch something..you can do both.

lazy sex..need i say more? he’s got you laying on top of him with his dick barely all the way inside you and giving half ass thrusts while you both are half away and naked at the crack of morning

hates pulling out, says it ruins the good feeling when you’re about to cum. Naw sweetie he just wants to be a dad of a cheerleading team. He might wanna be one and done or 2 kids but the way he cums inside of you..😗 it says otherwise. he doesn’t even pull out till you guys wake up, and if he did so you can go pee and get it out your system— he’s gonna ease way back in and go to bed like that 😭

another sagger and shower but not a grower. He’s average, length and girth. 6.6 hard and 6.6 soft. It’s just limpy yknow?.

also sleeps naked well semi-naked. but you? oh he makes you strip down to your socks and earrings. he wants you skinned down to the toess. He only sleeps in a bare of boxers and time out time he uses rhat as his advantage. won’t even take them off to pull his dick out. he either slips it through the hole of his pants or over the hem of the boxers. Somtimes doesn’t even take it out himself and gets you to do it by grinding it agaisnt you or pulling you closer to it.

cums a lot and cums whenever and wherever tbh. on your face in your mouth, wipes it off for you tho. One thing he lovessss to do is slap his tip on your lips or cheeks he just loves slapping his cock all over your face anyways

[crushmeeren]

⇢ ⇢ eijirou art by nikkiyan

࿐ part one of incubus week! eijirou is up first! kenma’s will probably be out later in the week. if the pacing in this is too fast, i apologize, i really tried to make it flow well. anywho, please enjoy! ⋆ ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა ⋆ ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐light bondage, choking, size kink, biting/marking, rough sex, squirting, praise kink.

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Boys fucking suck. Especially when it comes to sex. When you come across a forum of other women who have dealt with this problem, the word incubus catches your eye. After spiraling down a rabbit hole of what and how to obtain your own incubus, you think you’re getting a demon who’s dark and mysterious who can satisfy you. You end up with a demon that has the sun shining out of his ass. Although, he still ends up being way more than satisfying.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

“Thanks babe, that was great.”

Irritation gathers hotly in your chest. You plaster on a fake smile, that’s more of a grimace than anything, and don’t bother responding as you tug your leggings back on. The man you chose for your one night stand is 100% a dud.

Nothing out of the ordinary there.

You grab your discarded sweatshirt and slip it back on, rising from the lumpy, extremely uncomfortable twin mattress. Really, you should’ve known from the scratchy sheets alone how this evening would turn out.

“I’m going to go ahead and go home,” you say evenly, scanning the room to search for your keys and shoes. You spot the keys on the bedside table, swiftly snatching them and stepping into your shoes.

The bed creaks behind you as the random man sits up. “Wait! Aren’t you going to stay the night? Didn’t you enjoy yourself baby?” His arrogant tone has you itching to punch his lights out, and to be honest you can’t even remember his name. He’s that fucking forgettable.

A snort of disbelief rings out that you don’t even bother trying to stop and your temper flares. Whipping around, you level this loser with an unimpressed look.

“Hate to break it to you, babe,” you sneer. “But let’s get something straight. Not once did I get anywhere close to cumming, and let’s not forget that you’re a two pump chump. I know you said you’re a “grower not a show-er,” but the only thing your dick grew into was a pencil. You can delete my number.”

He’s too stunned to respond, face turning bright red as you roll your eyes. The bedroom door slams shut behind you as you exit. The thought of spending one more second in that fuckers presence makes your jaw clench tight, and then your speed walking down the hallway and awkwardly locking eyes with the roommate lounging on the couch.

You both nod to each other once in acknowledgment before you’re rushing out the front door. You practically sprint down the driveway, slipping into your car and shutting the door with enough force to shake the frame.

Your forehead thumps onto the steering wheel, cheeks puffing out with an exasperated sigh before you lean back into the seat, pressing your palms to your eyes.

Every single time you hook up with someone new, it’s so bad that you’ve seriously considered saying fuck it and becoming celibate for the rest of your miserable, unsatisfied life. Maybe you should just become a nun, at least then you’d be fulfilled by the Lord.

The engine purrs as you start your car. You quickly make sure the air vents are pointed directly at your sweaty and flushed face. Your frustration is at an all time high, and to add insult to injury, you’re turned on enough that your swollen and puffy clit brushes the seam of your leggings every time you move.

What you’d give to have a real cock stretching you out. One so thick it borderline hurts, but you guess you’re settling for your fingers and a toy tonight. Booorrring.

The repeated buzzing of your phone catches your attention, and you glance at the cup holder you’d carelessly tossed it into. When you check it there’s a string of nasty texts bombarding your Lock Screen. You roll your eyes, not bothering to read them. His number is blocked and deleted in less than ten seconds because you’re entirely out of fucks to give.

After that, you drive home in silence, choosing to imagine scenarios where a rough and mysterious man with a big dick makes you cum so many times you can’t stand it.

It’s a dream that seems so out of reach you’re worried you’ll never be able to catch it.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

It’s Friday night and you’ve spent hours scrolling aimlessly through Reddit, cuddled up in your warm bed. There’s no chance in hell you’re risking ruining another weekend by hooking up with someone new.

A movie plays quietly in the background while you lick your wounds and read about other women experiencing similar scenarios. At least you’re not alone. You’ve read through what must be dozens of stories when one in particular catches your eye.

It’s from username “boyzdrool__demonsrule”. Her story is exactly like yours. Never being able to find a decent date, awful, mediocre sex every time, and it seems she’s found a solution.

“Incubus”, you read. Huh, that sounds vaguely familiar. With a jolt, a light bulb goes off in your mind. An incubus is some sort of mythical sex demon, if you’re recalling it correctly. A spark of hope flickers in your chest as you continue to skim over her post.

She mentions a website she discovered with a forum that provided her a specific spell for summoning an incubus. She ended up with a gorgeous blonde who sports a nasty attitude that’s been satisfying her non stop since she met him.

You push yourself into a seated position, eyes widening as excitement rushes through you. You’re trying to tame your eagerness, to take this with a grain of salt, because this random lady could be completely off her rocker. But really, what have you got to lose? If it works then you’ll finally have your dark and mysterious man! And if it doesn’t, well, then you’ve only wasted a night and you can return to wallowing in self pity.

You steel your resolve and send “boyzdrool__demonsrule” a message before you can regret the decision. To your surprise, she responds within the hour. You text back and forth with her all night, receiving the link to the website and even a list of items that’s needed for the ritual.

It’s 4 a.m when you decide to call it quits. You’re brimming with nervous energy but somehow you manage to sleep for a few hours. When you wake the next morning you spend a couple additional hours researching the ins and outs, just to be sure. With one last scan of your odd shopping list you stuff your shoes on and head to town.

You try to picture what kind of incubus will show up, assuming he’ll be similar to the one your new Reddit friend summoned.

Boy, were you fucking wrong.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

When the last candle flickers out it leaves your bedside lamp as the only source of soft light in your bedroom. Your jaw has dropped open in shock, eyes staring unblinkingly at the towering figure of the creature you’ve just summoned.

He’s definitely an incubus, that you’re certain of.

The demon wears only short black leather shorts. He’s pale, broad chested and has muscles so well defined you could drool. He appears mostly human, except for the elfish ears sticking out of loose red hair. Oh, and the long, slender black tail that ends in a point and swishes leisurely behind him.

“Hi!” He chirps, beaming at you with shark like teeth as he extends a hand to help you up from your current kneeling position on the floor.

Shocked to the core that this actually worked, unsure if you’re hallucinating or of what the hell else to do, you grasp his hand and allow him to haul you to your feet. You remember to shut your mouth, checking him over several times before returning your gaze to his bright expression.

“Are you….?” You trail off and he nods eagerly, squeezing your hand.

“Yes! I’m an incubus! My name’s Eijirou, what’s yours?” He chatters, happiness radiating from him in waves. You mutter your name in reply and he hums, dropping your hand to place his own on his hips. He glances around your room and whistles lowly, becoming easily distracted by your lamp. He rushes over to it and bends in half to tap the lamp shade with a clawed finger, giggling when it flickers due to his otherworldly energy. “I love lamps! We don’t have any where I’m from, it’s mostly pretty dark!”

You hum noncommittally, half confused - half amused at his easygoing behavior.

“Hey, Eijirou?” You ask tentatively, embarrassment slamming into you like a truck as you recall all the filthy things you’d been sincerely hoping to take part in with the incubus. Eijirou is just so….cheery that it paints him as pure and innocent.

Even though he’s a demon.

He straightens to his full height, shifting his head towards you with a smile. “Yes?”

“Are you, I mean — is this something you…. do often?” You fiddle with your fingers as you speak. “You understand what I summoned you for, right?”

Eijirou’s brows furrow in puzzlement before his expression switches to sheepish. “Oh!” Eijirou rubs the back of his neck. “Well, technically no. I don’t normally get sent to these kinds of summonings, but I’m filling in for my friend Shouto! He’s very pretty, and he gets sent to lots of these. But I promise I can be what you want!” He smiles reassuringly.

Your face pinches in apprehension. “Are you sure this is in your area of expertise?” Guilt then punches you in the gut when Eijirou’s sunny demeanor wilts before your very eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Eijirou begins to apologize. “I know I’m probably not as attractive as Shouto...” You cut him off before he can ramble, waving your hands animatedly as you speak.

“No! No Eijirou, you are fucking gorgeous, I swear. The minute I saw you my pussy had a heartbeat, if you know what I mean.”

Pink dusts Eijirou’s cheeks and you’re sure you must be dreaming. An incubus is blushing because of what you said. How have you ended up comforting him? This has been chaotic from the get go, and so far, has not once gone according to plan.

“Oh. Well, what is it then? I can have them send someone else if you’d like!” He offers, trying to remain upbeat but his eyes are sad.

How the fuck did this guy even become a demon?

You wince slightly. “You just seem very…innocent.”

Eijirou’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, lips parting in surprise. Then, he throws his head back and has the audacity to start laughing. You scowl, humiliation burning at the back of your neck.

“Aw baby,” he coos, sauntering up to you and looming like a rain cloud. He tilts his head down with a searing look, mouth twisting into a sly smirk. “You have no idea what I’ve done or how good I can make you feel,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry.

Your body flushes white hot from the implication, the heat bursting in your cheeks as you shift your weight from foot to foot. You suddenly feel defiant, the familiar buzz of arousal kick starting in your veins.

“You think you can make me feel good?” You ask haughtily, raising your chin in a challenge. Eijirou’s lips stretch wide and he swiftly lowers himself until he’s able to grip the backs of your thighs.

“I know I can baby.” Then he’s effortlessly lifting you off the floor and forcing you to lock your legs around his waist with a gasp.

You clutch at broad shoulders for balance, which is promptly shattered when he takes a few steps and tosses you onto your bed as if you weigh nothing. You bounce as you land, the blanket puffing up and settling down around you. Anticipation lights up your spine as Eijirou crawls up the bed like a large cat, tail flicking back and forth excitedly.

Eijirou pushes your thighs apart with overly warm hands, sharp claws scratching at your soft skin. It’s easy to melt under his touch, the built up tension from the past several months clouding your logical thinking and causing you not to give a single fuck about the potential consequences this may bring.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous. I’ll eat you alive if you let me,” he purrs, bunching your shirt up and letting it catch on your tits before allowing them to bounce free. The light stimulation makes you moan, arms raising out of instinct as Eijirou slips your shirt off and tosses it to the side. Your nipples become hard and perky as soon as they’re exposed to the cool air.

“That’s what I summoned you for, isn’t it?” You tease, deciding to fully embrace the situation. Eijirou laughs in amusement and his tail swishes a bit quicker as he fits himself snug between your thighs.

He leans over you and plants a hand on either side of your head to cage you in. Your pulse quickens, heat pooling rich and honeyed in your pelvis as you stare up at him and realize just how huge he is.

And you haven’t even seen his cock yet.

In lieu of voicing what you want aloud, you strain your neck upwards as if you’re going to kiss him, but he stays just out of reach. The demon grins happily, displaying his mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

“Poor thing, I can see the sexual frustration pent up inside you,” he says with fake pity, ignoring your obvious ask for a kiss. He dips his head down to lick a hot stripe up the side of your throat. Your breath catches as you clutch his forearms, head dropping back to the blankets. “I’ll give you some relief pretty baby,” he murmurs, sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder with no warning whatsoever.

You wail as a knee jerk response to the blistering flash of pain, but it’s mere seconds before it begins to numb and pulsate with a hot pleasure instead.

“Eijirou,” you groan as he slides his teeth free with a satisfied, slick sound. He laps at the sluggishly bleeding wound, the texture of his long tongue rougher than what’s natural. “What did you do?” You ask in a breathless voice. Your body warms even further, the base of your skull tingling.

“Just helping! I promise my saliva only enhances your pleasure once it hits your bloodstream. You’ll be dazed for a few hours, but I won’t hurt you.” He places open mouthed kisses up your neck and pauses to whisper in your ear. “Unless you want me to, of course.”

Your ever growing lust is turning your insides to ash and you can’t resist as you firmly frame the sides of his face to yank him in for a bruising kiss. His mouth is surprisingly soft, wet and so so hot. Eijirou bites playfully at your lower lip and pushes his tongue into your mouth when you open up for him.

You kiss until you’re lightheaded, until your lungs are screaming. Your throat burns when you break for air and Eijirou mouths over your collarbone, slowly working his way down your chest.

He reaches the sensitive area at the top of your breast, biting and sucking with the pure intention of leaving a dark mark. Your thighs twitch from the dull ache, closing and framing his hips. The incubus takes advantage of the moment to nestle his thick, full cock against you, rolling his hips to drag the length of it over your clit. It’s incredible, even through the material keeping you apart.

You cry out his name when he releases your swollen skin, and the soft whine he answers you with is music to your ears. Eijirou moves to push your nipple into the purse of his lips, sucking until your spine arches, eager for more.

He switches to your other breast to repeat the action before pressing lingering kisses down to your belly button and even further south. The soft material of your shorts sticks lewdly to your pussy as he slips them off, a clear string as evidence of your arousal stretches between you and the material before it breaks and leaves you bare.

“Feeling good baby?” Eijirou snickers, running his thumb through your soft lips to part them and see what he’s done to you. You’re too floaty and turned on to pay much attention to his teasing, fisting the sheets as you stare at him with heavy lidded eyes and nod.

Eijirou notices you slipping deeper and deeper under his thrall. He wastes no more time before retreating to his belly and placing the flat of his abnormally long tongue to your pussy, dragging it up and licking your clit.

Your blood sings, the pleasure so intense that it shoves you right up to edge. You brokenly warn Eijirou and he pulls away to fit his teeth to your inner thigh, piercing the skin before you can protest.

He listens to your breathy moans, humming appreciatively and repeating the action on the other side. The more his saliva swirls through your bloodstream the more the sensation of being drunk creeps up on you.

When Eijirou is satisfied with his work, he proceeds to eat your pussy until your feet cramp from curling your toes so harshly. Until you’re fisting his hair like you’re trying to rip it out in handfuls and squirting on his face.

He licks you clean, snickering at the way your thighs tense as you get overstimulated. You seem to blink once and when you reopen them Eijirou’s shorts have vanished. His flushed, huge, cock curves up towards his belly, kicking a few times when you stare at it.

You’re secretly praying he splits you in half.

Eijirou nudges your thighs apart with his knees, sitting back on his calves. The tip of his cock dips inside you before sliding up and over your clit, the mess between your legs helping ease the glide. At this point words are failing you and all you’re able to do is whine in protest.

Eijirou hushes you as he steadies his base and lines himself up, inching forward until your tight pussy gives and swallows him whole. The second he bottoms out, you fucking cum. Head thrown back and white knuckling the sheets when your pussy flutters and clings desperately to Eijirou because she can’t stand the thought of letting go.

The demon gasps in delight, settling his hands on your hips. “Good job sweetheart, that was a big one huh? Give me another one baby, I’m in love with the way you tighten up around me,” he gushes as he starts rolling his hips. He builds up to a steady pace, holding you still as you scratch at his forearms.

He coaxes one more orgasm out of you before you’re unceremoniously flipped onto your belly. You face plant into the sheets as your ass is yanked into the air, wrists twisted and pinned behind your back. You startle when a surprisingly soft tail tickles your skin, coiling tightly to bind your wrists.

He tangles his fingers in your hair and hikes you off the bed, other hand coming to rest on your throat and bend your neck backwards at an awkward angle. His hand tightens as he snaps his hips and fills you with his cock once again, a bitten off sob spilling from your lips.

Eijirou fucks you harder than before, yanking you back into each powerful push of his hips and digging his fingers into the sides of your throat. Your moans rattle low in your throat as you start to reach what seems like your hundredth orgasm. You’ve lost count. Eijirou’s harsh panting and soft whimpers dance in the air, combining with the lewd sound of his skin smacking sticky with yours.

The hot, slick glide of his cock dragging in and out of your pussy is all you can focus on, and before you can even hint that you’re on the edge, you’re cumming so hard your ears start to ring. Every single muscle goes taught as he works you through it.

“Fuck, you’re amazing baby, you like the way my cock feels yeah? The noises you make when you cum are so fucking cute, oh my god,” he says breathlessly, hips speeding up just a smidge and making your already shallowing breathing catch.

Eijirou suddenly releases his hold on your throat and hair, keeping your wrists bound by his tail and opting to shove your face into the mattress with a hand to the back of your head. The other grips your hip and his nails slice your skin as he fucks you within an inch of your life.

The pain doesn’t feel like pain anymore, only an unyielding, scorching pleasure that continues to build and shatter. Rinse and repeat. You lose track of how many times you’re thrown over the edge and into the abyss.

“Can I cum inside you?” Eijirou asks after some time, movements becoming jerky and frantic. Each push jostles you forward as you try to hang on by white knuckling the sheets.

You nod without hesitation, moaning weakly. Eijirou takes advantage of your consent, pushing into the root, cock twitching as a new warmth blossoms inside you. He pulls out almost immediately afterwards, allowing your sore and exhausted body to collapse to the mattress. You shift in place and faintly register his cum trailing out of you.

Your eyes are bleary as you vaguely make out his figure moving around your room, whispering something in a language unfamiliar to you, and then you’re passing out without a care in the world.

When you wake up an undetermined amount of hours later, you find yourself clean and in a large t-shirt, tucked under the blankets. There’s an ache between your legs as you sit up, and all the previous nights memories coming rushing back to you. You’re so satisfied, months of stress having been worked out of you, and you can’t stop grinning when you think of Eijirou.

You’re already planning on how you can get him to come back when you spot a note sitting pretty on your night stand.

“Hey pretty girl! I hope I didn’t hurt you too much, and leaving a note is probably way out of line, but I couldn’t help myself. I really loved, enjoyed our time together, and I’d come back in a heartbeat if you asked. P.S., see below for steps on how to summon me specifically. (:”

As you quickly scan over the instructions something tender blooms in your chest, but you’re unwilling to examine the troubling feeling too closely for now.

Eijirou’s not “dark” or “mysterious”. No, he’s like the sun, and you hope to get burnt by him over and over again.

[lizzieisright]

She looks like fun

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: During the patrol you find a pretty pleated skirt. In Abby's size.

Tags: okay, here we go fingering, oral, strap usage, strap sucking, Abby wears a skirt and a collar for sexy purposes, scene negotiation, safewords (traffic lights), aftercare, Abby and R are switches.

wc: 6.5k (it's a huge bitch, but 1.5k is a sfw part in the beginning)

a/n: listen I love when girls wear short pleated skirts, and Abby is not an exception.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s rare to find something worthy when you’re out on the patrol, and you try to contain your disappointment every time - mostly because you hate losing and you and Abby have a rivalry going on who can bring more cool shit for the other. It’s romantic and sappy and also it drives you both crazy since you’re competitive. (people said hate sex was hot - have you tried sex after your super competitive partner loses to you? The best thing ever). So usually you won’t be happy at the end of your patrol.

But today you manage to get into a store that hasn’t been raided yet, so you start taking everything you see - people need clothes all the time, and it’s valuable. You put a mark on your map so others can go there later to take the rest and you go to women’s section, not feeling optimistic: the fabric is worse, the sizes are fucked, and even if you find something nice it tends to not last long.

But then you see it. 

On the rack next to jeans there’s a rack with skirts - and why the fuck you’d stop to look at them? - but the skirts are pleated skirts. Short pleated skirts that cover ass just enough to be socially acceptable. 

You can’t stop looking at them - you’ve seen before how nice they flow and how absolutely delicious girls look in them. 

But it’s so not Abby’s style. 

But she’ll look so good in one of these skirts.

She will probably tell you to go fuck yourself if you show it to her. 

You pack it in your backpack anyway. 

“Found something?” Abby asks as she comes inside the shop. “Oh wow. This is nice.”

“Choose whatever you want, my treat.” You say with a cocky smirk and Abby rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t count.” 

“You’re being unfair.” You whine as Abby makes her way to you. 

“No, I’m not.” Abby murmurs. “This store is a public service, where is your personal touch?”

“You’ll talk shit just to keep your score, huh?” You smirk and Abby gives you a peck on your lips before diving into the racks to find something for herself.

The skirt gets a buddy in the form of a tight cropped white t-shirt and you don’t tell Abby about it. 

The week passes and you still don’t talk about that damn skirt even though you can’t stop thinking about Abby wearing it: how it would hug her round butt and how her thick thighs would be so shamelessly out for you. You think about how cute she’d look walking around your shared space, the skirt bouncing and almost showing you everything. You think about the possibility of Abby not wearing any underwear under it, and how hot it would be to lift the skirt up and touch her and make her moan. You think about Abby all sprawled out with your head under that skirt, making a mess out of it. 

Abby is not an idiot, so she notices the change in your mood for the last few days. She knows something is on your mind, so she catches you off guard, with her fingers buried deep inside you. 

“Come on baby, tell me what’s been bothering you.” Abby murmurs into your ear while her fingers relentlessly hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Shit- what?” You ask, totally lost in your pleasure. 

“You’re keeping something from me. So share.” Abby kisses your neck and you try really hard not to cum, but your thighs start to shake.

“Fuck- the fucking skirt-”

And you see Abby in that skirt, all cute and shy, and you spasm around real Abby’s fingers, cumming with a groan. Abby is too distracted with watching you go through your orgasm, still fucking you, and you both forget about the topic. 

Until you’re calmed down and Abby is satisfied with how fucked out you are. Then she remembers.

“Skirt?”

Shit, you think. Now you’ll have to explain it to Abby who definitely will tell you to fuck off. 

“I took a skirt from that store we found. It’s a pleated skirt, a cute one.”

“So? You want to wear it?” 

“I want you to wear it.”

Abby is silent, and you expect it, so you already drop the subject in your head, letting it go. But Abby is not letting it go.

“You want me to wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, obviously. I think you'll be so hot in it. But I know it’s not your style.”

“It’s really not.” Abby chuckles. “So that’s why you’ve been so spacey lately? Thinking about me in a skirt?”

“Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about your pretty butt in it.” You kiss Abby’s neck and flip her on her back. “You’d look so cute.” You kiss Abby’s abs as you make your way down. “I’d run my hands under your pretty little skirt and you’ll just take it like a good girl, yeah?”

This shift is always beautiful: she just fucked your brains out, but a couple of words and your head between her legs makes Abby go pliant and soft, her big blue eyes giving you a Bambi. 

“Holy fuck.” Abby sighs and you smile into her pussy. “I’ll wear it for you.”

The hungry monster inside you roars and claws at your chest. 

Abby walks funny the next day.

You don’t actually expect Abby to wear it - after all, what is said under horny subby fog can’t be held accountable. Abby is really not a girly girl - fuck, it’d be easier to make you wear a skirt (after getting shot and stabbed repeatedly, mind you), and you understand that Abby might not be comfortable with this idea. 

But you leave the skirt and the t-shirt on the bed one day to give her the choice. When you come back, it's gone. 

Next time the skirt topic comes up when you're taking a bath together - a rare luxury, so you enjoy every second of feeling Abby's warm skin against yours.

"Do you still want me to wear a skirt?" If you were relaxed a second ago, now you're suddenly alert. 

"Only if you want it too." You kiss her shoulder. 

"And if I wear it..?" Abby gives you space to finish the phrase for her. 

"I'll fuck you on every surface in this apartment." Abby laughs, but you know what she wants to know. "Yeah, I want it to be a scene." You take a second. "Do you want me to plan it?"

"Yeah."

You freeze for a second, not really believing your luck - Abby doesn't ask for a scene plan unless she wants to do it, and right now it means she will wear a skirt for you. 

"Fuck baby, you're going to wear it for me?" You ask excitedly, squeezing her in your arms. "With a t-shirt too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get into your head." 

"We have a few free days next week, right? Is it okay?"

"Yes, you horndog." Abby laughs and you bite her gently. 

So you spend the next days planning what you would do with Abby, writing a short list of kinks so she could veto whatever she doesn't want to happen or add something she wants to happen (the ropes last time? Her idea). She still won't know in which order everything will happen or where exactly, or even when in some cases, to save the magic of the moment, but in order to feel safe with each other, you write your lists every time, unless you both get spontaneously in the mood and have to negotiate on the fly. 

You pass your list to Abby and as she reads it, her face warms up in a pretty red colour, just like apples in the garden. 

"Okay." Abby smiles at you. "This sounds good. But I pulled my shoulder today, so I won't be able to get on my hands and knees."

"Fuck, I'll give a massage later." You say, worried. "Okay, that's fine, no doggy." 

"We can do that one, when you push the pillow under me?"

You swallow in horny, the pictures flying through your head, as you scribble it down on your list. 

"Fuck yes. Are you going to be fine like this? You still put your arms up." 

"It's not that bad." Abby shrugs. "I want to add something." 

You nod eagerly, always ready to give Abby whatever she wants. Abby walks away to go through her backpack and comes back to you, giving you a piece of small leather belt. It's too small for any human, and just as your brain starts to catch up, Abby drops the bomb on you.

"Collar me."

You blink a few times, not believing your ears.

"I'll fucking destroy you, Abs." You say, your voice low and dark. 

You had this talk before, and Abby was honestly weirded out by the ritual of collaring, so you decided not to add it, especially since you weren't in a 24/7 dynamic and not in fixed roles either. And you know Abby doesn't mean putting this collar as the collar, but it is still so hot. The whole thing is not done by the book or by rules, but you really don't care: whatever Abby wants, Abby gets. 

"I will want to tug on it." You tell her, honestly, and Abby thinks for a second.  

"Yeah, okay. Traffic lights, then." 

You nod and add "collaring" in your messy handwriting. 

You know Abby will wear this skirt, it's not a surprise, but you're still not prepared when you walk into the kitchen. 

Abby is standing there, and you trail her bare legs up until you see the edge of the skirt and holy fuck. Holy fuck she looks good in it, her trained perky ass making the folds of the skirt to look especially delicious. You lick your lips as your fingers twitch, because you want to lift it already and get a look at her pretty little pussy. 

And your eyes go up and you see this tight t-shirt that shows all the muscles in Abby's back and shoulders and you want to bite her and mark her. 

"Wow, princess." You sigh and make your way to her, squeezing her waist. Abby jumps, surprised, but relaxes against you. "You look so fucking pretty." 

"Thank you."

"Give me a twirl, will you?" You step away to give her space.

Abby is clearly embarrassed, but she does the cutest twirl in the world and yes, you can see her ass. And she is not wearing underwear, just as you told her. 

"Beautiful." You murmur and run your hand up her thigh, lifting the skirt just a little. "You wanna watch something? I brought this from the library."

You show her the dvd and Abby is still tethered to reality, so she reads the summary carefully. 

"Sounds okay. Not like the last time." 

"Fuck you, baby." You pinch her side in revenge. "Let's go."

It seems so normal. It seems like any other day off, you and Abby sitting on the couch, but even as you pretend to watch the movie, you see how twitchy Abby is getting. 

She plays with the ham of her skirt and it's so fucking cute - but then she smooths the fabric and you feel like you're going to explode: Abby enjoys wearing it. Abby likes it in a way that a girl who was forced to grow up in a horrible fucking world would enjoy doing normal girly things. 

Maybe Abby is not not so girly after all. 

Your heart feels tender right now and you can't help but to put your hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her sensitive skin. 

"Do you like it?"

"A little predictable, but still better." Abby shrugs and squeaks when you squeeze her thigh. "Yeah." She is shy now. "I feel pretty." 

"You are pretty, princess." You whisper in her ear, making her shudder.

But you don't do anything else. You keep watching the movie, caressing Abby's thigh and pretend not to notice the change in her breathing. Then Abby starts shifting a little and you look down to see her nipples perked up. The fabric is rubbing against her sensitive skin and you just wait, because in a minute you feel how Abby tries to press her thighs together, thinking she is sneaky. 

You chuckle and move your hand under the skirt, slowly parting her folds. Abby tries to keep her whimper to herself, but you feel how wet she is. 

"What's got you so worked up, pretty girl?" You ask innocently while you brush your thumb over Abby's clit. 

"Nothing." Abby breathes out and you chuckle. 

"Really?" You wonder and pick up the speed, flicking Abby's clit until she presses her thighs together.

It's such a pretty sight: your hand under Abby's skirt, squeezed by her warm thighs, her knees pressed together. Abby is biting her lip and you watch her while your fingers tease her relentlessly. She looks desperate and helpless, and you live for it.

"Were you thinking exactly about this? How good I will make you feel under your pretty skirt?" You gently bite Abby's neck and she joists. "But we are watching a movie, princess, and I'm really interested in it. So you will give a narration while I play with your pretty pussy." You can't give less fucks about this movie, but making life harder for Abby is your favourite game.

"Yes, ma'am." Abby is not fully in the subspace yet, so she feels a little shy, but she crumbles completely when your eyes meet. 

You slide down to the floor and make Abby put her feet by her sides for better access. The skirt falls between her legs and covers her cunt, and you lean back to look at her. Abby is blushing and frowning in desperation, her nipples are perking through the t-shirt and her plushy thighs are open so shamelessly for you. 

"You stop talking, I stop touching you." You warn Abby and she nods. "Now lift your shirt up." 

Abby does as she told and now this is a sight, her small tits squeezed by the t-shirt, her abs flexing as she breathes deeply. Abby already looks ruined and you haven't done anything yet.

"What is happening there?" You ask routinely and lift Abby's skirt up, revealing her soaked little cunt. You spread her lips open and circle her clit with your thumb. 

"She is- she is at work again." Abby sighs and you hum, encouraging her. "She is talking to the cigarette selling woman." It sounds like Abby is relieved when she finishes her line and you laugh to yourself: your poor baby is trying to be good for you.

You leave her clit alone and push two fingers in slowly, watching her body react to you as beautiful as always. Abby freezes and instead of watching the movie, watches your fingers disappear in her.

"I'll take them out." You threaten and Abby snaps back into watching. 

"There's this creepy guy," Abby swallows hard when you start slowly pumping your fingers in and out. "And she has an idea- fuck." You just curled your fingers and Abby stops watching again, but quickly opens her eyes.

"What's the idea?" 

"She wants the sell- ah, fuck - selling lady and the- the-" You pick up the speed of your fingers and Abby clutches to your shoulders. You reach with your free hand and pinch her nipple, and Abby twitches in response, her pussy clenches on you. "Fuck, it feels so good, ma'am."

"And I'm yet to hear about her idea." You say with a hint of a threat, but your thrusts only get rougher. 

"She is playing matchmaker, ohmygod!" Abby whimpers and in reward you lick the long strip from your fingers buried in her pussy to her neglected clit. You suck on it and Abby lets out a shriek as her knees are closing up above your head. "Fuck, oh god- I can't-" 

You keep sucking on her clit until she is shaking and moaning, but then you move away and take out your fingers. 

"Is she still playing matchmaker?" You ask sternly.  Abby blinks and checks the screen. 

"No."

"That's what I fucking thought." You knead Abby's thighs a little painfully and keep her legs open for you. "Keep talking, princess."

Abby nods feverishly and swallows. Such a pretty fucking sight, you think as you look up to her: Abby's mouth is open and she really tries so hard to watch this stupid movie, but you push your fingers inside again and all her efforts go to waste as she twitches and blinks very fast in a attempt to not close her eyes.

"She is telling the selling lady that the creepy g- fuck-" Abby sobs when you put your mouth back on her. You play with her clit and suck on it again, making Abby buck her hips into your face. "The- the creepy guy is in- ma'am! - is in love with her!" 

You push Abby's legs together and up, almost folding her in half and push your tongue alongside your fingers, getting drunk on her taste. Abby is a smart girl, so she holds herself under her knees to help you and moans when she feels your tongue and your fingers inside.  Abby always tastes and feels like heaven, and you never want to leave her pussy alone. 

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum." Abby whimpers and you get rough, every push of your fingers is moving Abby's whole body with the sheer force of it, because Abby is not behaving.

"Is her idea working?" You suck on her clit again and Abby whines and sobs while forcing herself to look at the screen.

"Y-yes!" Abby shouts and cums on your fingers, sucking them in on every spasm. You pick up the pace and Abby tries to fight you off, but you slap her hand away and fuck her through her orgasm until her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. Abby is whimpering on every exhale, her abs are twitching, and you smile wolfishly.

"You did so good, princess." You let Abby's legs go gently and fix her skirt, smoothing the fabric. Abby looks at you with pleading eyes and your heart swells, so you straighten up and kiss her slowly and delicately. Abby relaxes and caresses your neck, chasing your mouth, and you can’t help yourself as you pinch her nipples playfully. 

“You want your collar?” You ask softly and Abby nods eagerly. “Show me how good your throat is first.”

Bratty Abby is fun, and you like the back and forth of it, but good girl Abby makes you feral: you just told her what you want and she is already opening her mouth for you, sticking her tongue out.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and push your fingers down her throat. 

You fuck Abby’s throat until she is gurgling and her eyes roll back into her skull: you know she likes it, likes to relax her throat and let you use her as you wish. Abby is not even gagging now, so used to it, but you can feel how her throat clenches on you sometimes. Abby looks so cute like this, her tits out, her eyes closed and her thighs pressed together under the skirt as it spreads so prettily around her hips. 

“Beautiful.” You murmur and clean up her spit from her chin. Abby smiles at you, clearly pleased from praise, and you kiss her again as a reward. Abby likes kisses, especially if she is needy, as if it keeps her tethered to you. "Show me your neck, princess."

Abby straightens up and proudly shows you her neck - she is so cute you can't help your giggle. You take out the small belt and Abby looks at you with wide eyes as if you’re her god. 

"Mine." You tell her when you tighten the collar around her neck. "You're mine." 

"Yours, ma'am." Abby answers in a small voice and you see how any rational thought leaves Abby’s head as her eyes get cloudy. "Can I touch it, ma'am?"

"Go ahead." You nod and watch her strong fingers that leave bruises on your thighs brush over the leather with such care. "We're not done, princess." 

Abby nods and you tug on her collar until she stands up on her shaking legs and follows you to the bedroom. There's enough space for your fingers to fit in under the collar, but you're still careful with it: it's a new thing and you don't want to hurt Abby in a way she doesn't want to be hurt. 

You lead Abby to the bed, but instead of getting her to lie down, you sit on the bed and tug on her collar to get her down on her knees. Abby slowly sits on her thighs and fixes the skirt again, and you just can't. She is so fucking cute in it, and you can see the curve of her hips in the mirror, her waist looks tiny and the dips along her spine are so fucking hot. 

You caress Abby's cheekbone with your thumb, adoring her, and she blooms. Abby likes subbing because she's loved so fully at her weakest and most vulnerable like she's never been before - she's literally on her knees, with a collar around her neck and in a skirt and you look at her like she is divine.

"Is your throat good enough for my cock too, princess?"  You ask with a teasing smirk, palming your strap through the fabric of your pants. 

"Yes ma'am. I'll be so good for you." Abby pleads and grabs at your thighs before she remembers herself. 

"Too eager for your own good, huh?" You weave your fingers through her hair at the back, right under the braid, holding her head up. "Come on, get to work."

Abby tugs your pants down and you can see in the mirror how she presses her thighs together when she sees your strap, and that won't do. 

"Spread your legs and arch your back, I wanna see how wet you're gonna get." 

Abby does exactly as she is told, even lifting herself up a little so she could reach your lap, and you see her skirt covering everything. It's a downside, but Abby is smart, so she pushes the skirt to the front just enough for it to go up and your grip in her hair tightens from how sexy she looks. The edge of the skirt is now reaching to the middle of her ass and you see her wet pussy glisten; the contrast of her waist to hips ratio makes her ass look even better, and you feel like you're gonna cum just from watching Abby getting wet. 

"Fucking beautiful." You growl and Abby even shakes her ass a little to make it jiggle. "Focus, princess." You tell her sternly, and Abby arches into you even more. 

You tug Abby's head back and she opens her mouth automatically, so you push your cock inside just a little - Abby wraps her lips around the head and you let go of her hair, letting her run the show and have fun. Abby leaves wet open mouthed kisses along the length of your strap and you hum in approval, petting her head. She is blushing and her freckles look so pretty on her pink cheeks, her eyelashes flatter when she closes her eyes and licks the whole length of your strap. The movements cause the harness to move against your clit and your breathing gets heavier - you didn't expect it to happen, you must've put the harness in a different way - and Abby notices how tense are your thighs under her hands. She makes eye contact with you to check in, and you smile at her. 

"You're doing so good princess, you might make me cum if you keep it up."

Abby whimpers when she hears it - it's very rare for you to even allow her to touch you when you dom her, let alone make you cum, but Abby wants to. She always wants to please you in any way she's allowed to. 

"Please let me make you cum, ma'am." Abby begs, looking at you with her big doe eyes. 

"You can try, princess." You chuckle, not very sure that she can, but Abby seems determined. 

Abby lifts up a little again and lowers her head on your cock, taking as much as she can while she still can breathe, and when she comes back up, the harness grinds against your clit, making you hiss. Abby wiggles in excitement and starts to bob her head up and down, getting dizzy from hearing your panting and hissing above her.

"Just like that, babygirl." You pant and put your hand on Abby's head, slightly pushing the strap deeper. "You can take it, right?" You coo and Abby moans in agreement. "Good girl. Relax for me."

You hold Abby's head by her braid and push your strap deeper and deeper while Abby's eyes roll back into her skull. There is something so comforting about having her throat stuffed Abby can't help herself but to go absolutely slack while you fuck her throat, grunting and panting as your own pleasure builds up. 

"Ride your fingers, princess, I know you want to." 

Fucking hell, you think as you watch Abby pump her fingers in and out in the mirror, her thighs and ass look so delicious with the skirt on. Abby moans and whimpers as you fuck her throat and she fucks herself, and you know you're not going to last long. 

Your grip tightens in her hair and Abby whimpers, and you can see in the mirror how rough she is being with herself, desperate to cum. 

"Fuck-" You whimper and buck your hips up to get more friction and the same time as Abby swallows you down, and the pressure ticks you off right away. 

Your thighs shake and your hips buck, chasing the aftershocks of your orgasm while Abby watches you with wide eyes, her own fingers forgotten. She is not even breathing, absolutely mesmerised by your reactions - she made you cum, she made you cum without even touching you. 

You pant, still twitching from your orgasm, but you find the strength to move Abby away from the strap despite her whining. 

"Come here." You tug on her collar again to make her move and Abby straddles you. "Holy fuck." You whisper when you look at her. "My best girl." You kiss Abby's shoulder and she giggles.

"Thank you, ma'am." 

You smile at her and then lie down on the bed, tugging on Abby's hips so she would move. Abby is bright red - for some reason she is still so shy when you make her sit on your face - but she moves up, until her thighs are by the sides of your face. Abby can't even look at you, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

“Look at me.” You tell her and Abby steals a glance at you, which is not what you wanted. “I said look at me.”

And Abby looks, tries her hardest to maintain eye contact with you as you push her down on your face, burying yourself in her soaked pussy. 

Abby whines when you suck on her sensitive clit since she's been close after fucking herself earlier. You don't waste any time and eat her out messily, getting her wetness all over your face as you devour her, fucking her with your tongue, rubbing and sucking her clit, while Abby writhes on top of you. 

“Oh god-” She sobs and you grab a handful of her hips, pulling her skirt up so you can see her. “I'm gonna-”

And that is exactly your cue to stop, leaving Abby panting and whimpering on top of you. You watch her pretty clit throb from being so close to orgasm and smirk. 

Abby is confused and there's a tiniest hint of hurt on her face: she did such a good job and you are not letting her cum?

You chuckle and signal her to move. 

“Lie down on your stomach.” You tell her and while Abby does as she is told, you fix your harness and grab a pillow to put it under Abby's hips. 

Seeing Abby's fat thighs pressed together with her wet glistening hole between them makes you want to ruin her. The sight of your strong, dangerous girlfriend all shy and pretty and in this damn skirt makes you froth at your mouth like a fucking dog. Abby makes you feel like the most unhinged obsessed creep and the way she welcomes your dark side - as you think of it - is why you would die for her at any moment. 

You can't help the possessive bite you leave on her neck, practically growling into her ear.

“You're mine.” You tell her and Abby nods, shows her neck with a collar on it. 

“Yours.” She whispers and bucks her hips into you, presenting herself for you. 

You line your strap up and push inside, feeling how tight Abby is from being so close to an orgasm. 

“It's a pity you can't see yourself, princess.” You tell her as you watch the head of your strap slowly disappear in her hole. “You're close, aren't you?”

“Please, ma'am.” Abby whimpers and you part her ass cheeks to give yourself a show. 

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Abby says and you smile. 

“You can do better than that.”

You're not usually the “beg me” type, but now you want Abby to be desperate. You keep pushing extremely slowly, teasing Abby and moving away when she bucks her hips. 

“Please, I need you.” Abby starts shyly and oh, what a great idea it is. “Ma'am, I need you, please fuck me, only you can make me feel good, please-”

You push all the way in in one go and Abby moans loudly.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and pick a hard pace right away, slamming into Abby so hard her ass jiggles. Abby sobs and her back tenses: she feels you so deep and she is so tight in this position, and she is so fucking close. You knead her ass through the skirt and just watch your strap disappear in Abby, fucking her mercilessly. 

“Ma’am-” Abby whimpers and holds the pillow under her head for dear life, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Can I-” Abby doesn't get to finish her sentence as your next thrust knocks the air out of her. 

“Cum, babygirl.” You tell her gently while you thrust into Abby's tight little pussy with force, grabbing her hips for stability. 

Abby coils and lifts her ass as her orgasm rips through her body like an electric shock, and you chuckle, satisfied, your movements slowing down. You're not stopping, still moving inside her, and Abby squeezes her thighs together under you, whimpering. 

“Relax, princess, and let me have you.” You murmur into her ear and continue fucking her slowly, watching your strap come out of her covered in her cum. 

Abby genuinely tries to relax, but she is sensitive right now and your cock drags along her walls so slowly it drives her crazy. She likes feeling so stuffed, so full of you, but now she wants to cum again. 

“Ma'am, please go faster.” Abby asks you and you chuckle. 

“You're so impatient.” You tsk and slap her ass cheek lightly, watching it jiggle. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all, understood?”

“Yes ma'am.” Abby says, humbled, but her voice breaks in a moan when you push inside to the hilt. “Fuck.”

You smile and pull out just to push back and Abby clutches to the pillow, her whole body feels like she is on fire. You don't make it easier as your lips travel over her sensitive back, every touch of your hot tongue makes her tighten around your strap and moan pathetically. 

Abby is so close and so, so fucking far away from her orgasm and you know it, so you continue thrusting into her slowly until Abby starts to squirm and misbehave as she pushes back, chasing your strap. 

“Stop it.” You tell her sternly and push her lower back into the bed to stop her from moving. 

“Ma'am, please!” Abby whines.

You tug on her collar quite roughly and press your lips to her ear. 

“Such a brat.” You growl and slam into Abby roughly, making her squeal. “Turn on your side.” 

And that's how Abby ends up being fucked roughly from behind while you squeeze her throat and play with her clit relentlessly, bringing her to the edge immediately. Your pelvis hits her ass at every thrust and Abby whines and whimpers, her eyes rolled back, her head absolutely empty. Abby feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, only your hands and your voice and your cock do - and she feels so fucking good. 

“Ma’am-” Abby moans frantically. “It feels so good, you feel so good, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Is all you can hear between Abby’s sobs. You smile darkly and fuck her harder until she shrieks and cums again. 

But you don’t stop. You keep fucking Abby through her orgasm, you keep fucking her when she whines from being too sensitive, you keep fucking her even when she tries to move your hand away from her clit.

“Ma’am, it’s too much- I can’t-”

“You can take it.” You pant into her ear. “You wanted to cum so much before, so keep cumming.”  

And Abby does, with another sob. She cums again, and again, until it becomes too much for real, and her face is wet with tears. She feels like overstimulation now hurts more than pleases, and maybe you’re right, she has another one in her, but Abby feels exhausted. 

“Yellow.” Abby sniffles, and you stop moving right away, carefully letting go of her tit, but not removing the strap yet in case it will hurt Abby.

“Too much?” You ask her gently and Abby nods. “Does something hurt?” You ask her with such care in your voice Abby wants to cry, because she feels like she could’ve gone longer and now she’s disappointed you. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Abby sniffles, and you get more alert than ever.

“Abby? Can I hug you?” Abby nods and you carefully wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her neck. “Talk to me, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I say something?”

“No- It’s just- It started to hurt and I’m tired- fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“Baby, why are you saying sorry? It’s okay, you did good by using the safeword.”

“I just feel like I could go longer, I should not have stopped you.” Abby admits and sniffles again, ashamed - her emotions skyrocket in subspace.

“I don’t want you to push your limits to please me. How about we stop now, get clean and then cuddle and talk, if you want? How does it sound?”

“We can continue, I just need a moment.” Abby pleads as her guilt grows.

“I don't think we should, sweets.” That pet name makes Abby squeeze her eyes: you only use it when she is not allowed to argue. “It's okay. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong.” You kiss her shoulder and Abby's head gets a little clearer. “Thank you for telling me, you did so well.”

This makes Abby feel a little better; she nods and squeezes your hand in return. You carefully remove the strap while Abby winces and then you help her get up and go to the bathroom, to shower. 

You take her clothes and collar off, and Abby doesn’t look at you, still beating herself up, but you won’t have it. So when you two get into the shower and water starts to wash the sweat and cum off both of you, you take her face in your hands and kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and forehead, everywhere really. Just small gentle kisses, until Abby smiles and looks at you bashfully.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly and Abby blushes, but her mood seems to go up. 

You wash both of you gently, carefully going over Abby’s crotch, and she relaxes under your arms. You dry both of you after and help Abby change into her pjs. She gets under the blankets and you kiss her forehead before going to the kitchen and getting some food for both of you. 

When you return with two plates and a big cup, Abby looks sleepily at you, seemingly calm. But you know her, you know how guilt can eat her alive, so you keep being alert. 

“Drink this first.” You give Abby warm water with honey and she drinks it, scrunching her nose from the sweetness of it. Then you eat in comfortable silence, both noticing with surprise how hungry you were - which should not be a surprise by now, really. You finish your food and clean up so you can cuddle Abby and sooth her. Abby gets on top of you and you caress her hair and shoulders absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Abby sounds more sober now too. “I just-” She huffs, annoyed at herself. “I dunno how to explain. I could've gone longer.” 

“I don't want to hurt you. Not in a way you don't enjoy.” You remind her. Abby loves you so much she is scared to fuck everything up, and it led to some problems before, when she put your needs above hers. You talked about it, but sometimes, especially if Abby subs, she slips and does it again. This is exactly why you have a “sweets” rule: to stop her before she hurts both of you with her sacrifices. 

“I just feel like I'm..weak.” Abby admits and you chuckle. 

“You're not. You're a grownup who can tell their limits, and I'm so happy you did.” You say kindly. “I trust you. You were so good for me today, including using the safeword.” You kiss the top of Abby's head and she hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry I didn't check in with you.”

Abby nods and looks up to you. 

“We both agreed to this, right? We literally fucked around and found out.” You chuckle and reach out to grab the honey water for Abby. 

“I know you hate it, but your throat needs it.”

Abby groans and drinks it, absolutely despising the honey: this is the only drawback of getting her throat fucked.

“Did you like the skirt?” Abby asks playfully. 

“Yes. You looked so good in it, god. I got a little crazy.” You kiss her honey lips and Abby smiles into your mouth. 

“Well, next time it's your turn.” She says seriously and you laugh. 

“If you promise to not rip it apart.” 

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 30 - Apology Sex]

Pairing: service switch!Yoongi x switch f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Vampires!AU, Magic!AU

Kinks: he kneels for her & crawls to her, foot & leg worship, cunnilingus, hair pulling (m.receiving), strength kink, sex on a piano, vaginal fingering, he wants to kiss her but gets denied so harddd, Kook makes a non-sexual appearance bahahah, healthy communication, loving aftercare

Wordcount: 3.9k

a/n: you really said "what if OC gets jealous because of Fringella?" and to that i say"what then?" 🤪

You don’t know why exactly you are at his wing after what he did, but here you are. The chandelier illuminates the music room while the rest of his wing is dark. The curtains behind you are pulled closed, deforming the melodies you are playing. 

They come easy to you tonight, leaving your fingers angrily because this is exactly how you were feeling. 

Angry.

Angry at the music, angry at this room and angry at Yoongi. You and he were supposed to go out tonight, but he cancelled last minute to meet Fringella instead. Bear in mind, the meeting is strictly business according to him, but it still pisses you off. Out of all the people on this earth, he stands you up for Fringella, the biggest Bitch in the universe. And that says a lot because you normally refrain from calling other women this word. It fits her however. If you could, you would change the word “bitch” to her name and it would practically be the same thing. Not only is she heartless, mean and rude, she is also one of his old lovers. Granted, it was a long time ago and he was a different person back then, but Fringella still likes to rub it in whenever she sees you that Yoongi was able to be entirely himself with her, vampire gluttony and all. And that he will always have to hold back with you.

Oh lord, how you hate this bitch. 

Your fingers slam down on the keys, the candles on the piano flicker angrily as you let the emotion flow through you. 

The longer you think about it, the angrier you get, forcing the music to cut the air in fury. 

You like to consider yourself not a jealous lover. Of course you have your moments, like any person has, but generally you aren’t a jealous lover. When it comes to Yoongi and Fringella, however, you are the most jealous person to ever exist. In your imagination, they are currently having the most intense vampire sex ever. In your imagination, he tells her how she “really gets him”. In your imagination, he kisses her afterwards and calls her beautiful. 

“Urgh, this is stupid”, you growl, hitting the keys with your hand. 

The piano complains in shrill, loud sounds. 

“What did the poor piano do to you?”

You lift your eyes to the person standing in the doorway. 

Yoongi, still dressed in his leather jacket and jeans, is leaning against it with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“You changed out of your dress.”

“Don’t talk to me”, you hiss, looking away. You begin playing again, doing so loudly and with anger. 

Yoongi lifts his hands in defeat.

“Geez, sorry. I didn’t know that I was on the naughty list too.”

“Oh, piss off.”

“You’re the one in my wing. You can always leave.” 

His pissy tone hurts. Granted, you were the one who started it but he was supposed to be asking questions not throw the anger back at you. The jealousy and insecurity you were feeling all night is suddenly unbearable. 

You end the song abruptly, meeting his eyes. He furrows his brows at the sight of your tears. You stand up and stomp to him, only to swerve right past him.

“Hey”, he says, voice soft and worried. He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry. I had a bad day and I let it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your apologies”, you spit and slip out of his hold to leave his wing. 

Yoongi flinches as you slam the door closed, listening to your angry stomps become quieter and quieter. Another door slams closed and then he decides not to listen in any longer. 

“What the fuck just happened?” he murmurs to himself, feeling completely and utterly lost. 

Yoongi spends the next hour coming up with what could have pissed you off to such levels. Once he thinks that he figured it out, he instantly runs to where he can hear you. 

The piano in the main sitting room. The one where you and he had this very intense moment years ago before he told you his life story and realised that he was in love with you. 

Jungkook is in the room with you when Yoongi enters. He is drawing, lifting his head at the smell of him. He gives him a sweet eye smile.

“Hey, hyungie.” 

You mess up for a second but catch yourself quickly. You aren’t looking at Yoongi, which he knows that you are doing on purpose.

“Bub, can you leave the room for a second?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. 

“Uh…”

“No. He stays”, you grumble.

Jungkook blinks in confusion, looking between you and Yoongi. He can smell the anger and tension between you and him, wondering what the hell is happening.

“Leave, please bub.”

“No. Stay.” 

“Don’t listen to him, he is a cheater.”

Yoongi furrows his brows. You frown.

“You know what? I think I just heard, uhm, Tae call for me. Uh. I’m coming, mon cher!” Jungkook says and flees the scene quickly. 

The door closes. It is just you and Yoongi. 

“So I’m a cheater now?”

“How else would you call someone who stands up his girlfriend to meet with his psycho ex instead?” 

“Let me think about it for a second. Oh yeah, innocent. I had no choice.”

“Yeah sure. You just wanted to see her. Be honest.”

“I would take an hour of someone repeatedly scooping out my eyeballs over willingly seeing Fringella. Trust me, ___.”

“It still hurts me, Yoongi.” 

“I can see that.”

“Good. You’re supposed to see it.”

Yoongi tongues his cheek.

“Where did you leave her, mhm?” You challenged him. “After you fu-”

“Don’t finish this sentence.” He interrupts you, darkening his eyes.

You scowl at him. Yoongi frowns at you. 

In the end, you are the one to break eye contact. You lower them to the piano, beginning to play again. Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs.

“Look. I’m sorry that I had to cancel tonight. I really wanted to go on this date with you. I wouldn’t have cancelled it if her issue wasn’t important”, he says in a normal voice.

“Fringella’s stuff should never be important enough for you to cancel on me.”

“Agreed. Except this was vampire stuff, not Fringella stuff. Someone is illegally turning people in Geneva. Stuff like that endangers our existence and puts humans at risk. And given how I’m the only Creator alive, taking care of shit like that falls back on me.” 

You give up with a sigh. The play stops again. You meet his eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry. I know it was important. I just hate that it had to be Fringella.”

“Guess who does too?” he says and scoffs.

You meet his eyes. He softens his gaze.

“Look, princess. I’m here now and I only want you”, he says, walking to you.

“Prove it.”

He stops and stares.

“What?” 

“Prove it. I don’t believe you.”

Yoongi sees the sparkle of excitement in your eyes. He knows what that means. He wants to make it happen for you. 

He falls to his knees right where he stands just so he could crawl to you on all fours. 

You watch it happen with an increasing pulse. Yoongi crawls under the piano to get to you, looking up at you once he does. 

“I knew I was in love with you in this room”, he whispers and lowers his head to your feet to kiss them.

“Wait. Really?” you gasp. This is news to you, making you weak both emotionally and physically. 

“Yes. I knew I loved you.” He kisses your instep. “Knew I would do anything for you.” He kisses your ankles. “Knew that I would set the whole world on fire for you.” He kisses your calves. “You made me feel again, my love.” He kisses your knees, fingers pushing up the sleeping gown you are currently wearing. “Three thousand years of not giving a shit and you made me wanna fucking feel again.” 

He kisses your inner thighs, sucking tender spots of his adoration where you are the most sensitive. You smell like home between your legs. Sitting by the piano and wearing a long dress really warmed you up tonight. Yoongi feels droop,  trapped under your dress and with your soft thighs under his lips. 

“You made me wanna be myself again, princess beloved”, he whispers and connects his mouth with your heat. 

“Oh my god, Yoongi”, you gasp, curling into yourself and grabbing his head over the dress.

He flicks his tongue. 

You tremble, resting your stomach on his head at the sudden pleasure he makes you feel. It forces your pussy to slip back on the chair and therefore make it impossible for him to taste you.

Yoongi slips his head from your dress, not daring to lick his wet lips in case it would remove your sweetness from them. Now that he got a taste of you, he can’t get enough. Having you on his lips is the only way to have heaven and Yoongi would be damned to take this away. 

“Do you not want me to serve you, my princess?” he asks and right now this nickname carries a different meaning to it. When he whispers it in such a way, it feels as if he was your humble servant and you were his royal highness. His eyes show his religious and submissive devotion as well, gazing at you. 

“I, I don’t know. I didn’t expect this”, you stutter. “You, you just told me the moment you realised you love me.”

“I should have done it sooner. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I”, you cup his face, “fuck Yoongi, now I really want you to eat me out.” 

“Me too. Please.”

You nod your head, scooting to the edge of the chair. Yoongi helps you with the last inches, pulling you against his tongue by your hips. 

He groans deliciously, pressing the flat of his hands against your lower back. 

“So good, holy fuck”, his voice tickles you, his tongue replaces it instantly. 

“This is. So nice, actually. Wow”, you get out, following it up with a moan. You put your hand on his hidden head, petting it as best as your strength allows you. 

You close your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you. There aren’t many things which feel as good as Yoongi does. Especially right now, after he confessed such a romantic thing to you.

You think back to That night. It was storming and it was icy outside. You and he fought at first until you kissed his cheek and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He kneeled for you as well back then, eating your pussy while your back was pressed against the window. He was so gluttonous back then, deeply obsessed with your taste. Thinking that it was because he realised that he loved you, makes this memory so much sweeter. 

Yoongi isn’t as gluttonous tonight. He is more calculated, knowing which spots to pay attention to because he knows you these days. He knows how to get you to sigh, how to get you to gasp and how to get you to moan. He knows the spots which don’t really do it for you and the spots which instantly get you wetter. He knows all these things because he loves you. Only you. It will always be you. 

“It’s you, my love.” He kisses your petals and swollen clit. “There’s no one else for me.” He shows you his honesty by wiggling his tongue through your folds only to end it by sucking on your clit gently. Not for long, you should feel a quick bold of electricity, nothing more. 

When you gasp and tense, he lets go of your clit again to repeat the paths of his tongue. Down through your petals and to your entrance. He tilts your hips for it, lowering himself so he is looking up at you.

Like this, he buries his tongue inside you. He moans louder than you, drooling down his chin. Your pussy makes him salivate, it always will. He didn’t know what true pleasure tastes like until he got That first taste of you. 

You are heaven. A heaven he eagerly explores with his long tongue. You moan loudly, rolling your head back. Your toes curl on the carpet, back arching sensually. His tongue is so thick, so long and wet. Because of his nature as a Gluttonous Ripper, it can grow. You can feel him in the deepest parts of you, loving and adoring you. 

“I love this so much”, you choke out, pushing him closer. 

Yoongi lets you gladly, growling deeply when his nose brushes against your clit. He inhales like an addict, feeling his head pound. His black veins grow down his face, behind his closed lids his eyes become demonic. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry”, he breaks away. 

“No. Whyyyy?” you mewl. You roll your head to the front groggily, meeting his eyes. “Yoongi, your eyes.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m selfish, it felt like feeding and, and I didn’t I-”

You silence him by grabbing his chin, bending down so he can taste your words.

“So you’re telling me that you would rather stop this than show me that you’re mine?” 

“No. Sorry”, he whispers, gazing up at you. When he is looking at you like that, you wouldn’t even think that his eyes are currently red and black like those of a monster. He looks like a devoted little puppy so ready to obey its owner. 

“Then get back between my legs and feast on me.” 

“Can I do it better?”

“Whatever helps your case.” 

“I love you, ___. It will never change.” 

You brush your thumb over his black veins, whispering your words.

“I know, Min Yoongi. I love you too.” 

He leans in for a kiss, but you deny him. He mewls softly, gazing longingly. You, however, never grant him his wish, straightening your back. 

You part your legs.

“Go ahead.” 

Yoongi gets to his feet and picks you up. 

“Oh? What are you doing?” 

“Making it better for you”, he says and tries to kiss you again.

You however stop him with a finger against his lips. It moves them around a little, giving you glimpses of his fangs. They look so cute to you right now. 

“Fuck, this is the worst thing you can do to me”, he presses out.

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it”, you tease, scrunching your nose. 

“I already said I’m sorry.”

“I believe you. But you promised me proof.” You move closer. 

Yoongi moans softly, chasing your kiss. 

“This is your proof”, you whisper, moving back before your lips can touch.

“Fuck, this is driving me mad.” 

“Good.” You snicker and ruffle his hair at the nape of his neck. “You were trying to give me an orgasm.”

“Right. Fuck, princess. I’m going insane because of you.” 

He lifts you atop the piano and lies you down carefully. Your legs naturally open for him. You pull your dress up and over your butt so you are completely exposed to him. The piano feels cold against your butt and it’s a nice feeling to experience.

“My goddess”, Yoongi whispers, caressing your inner thighs gently. Yoongi doesn’t believe in gods or higher beings, so this nickname means a lot coming from him.

“I feel so empty, Yoongi. Hurry up”, you try not to beg, but it’s difficult not to. He makes you crave his touch.

Yoongi listens well and claims the emptiness between your legs by burying two of his long fingers in your warmth. His hand is turned to the side in this position, allowing the pads of his fingers to rub against the side of your walls. With fingers like his’, the way they enter you doesn’t matter a lot. They are long and thick enough to completely fill you, no matter the angle. 

Tonight it makes you arch your back and moan his name. 

“Do you like this?” he asks, watching his fingers pump into you. You make them so wet. He drools because of it, feeling his head pound. He craves you. How he does.

“I love it. Ahmmm”, you encourage him, writhing sensually. 

Yoongi remembers when he built this piano. It was a difficult year for him, lonely and full of guilt, and building the piano was the only joy he felt. To think that one day he will have the love of his eternal life writhing on it because he pleasures her just right, feels like an acid trip to him. 

“You’re a dream. This is a dream. Holy fuck, my love”, he gets out and kisses your warmth. You might deny him the taste of your lips, but he won’t be denied this taste. He kisses you with a dizzy head, licking his fingers each time he pulls out. 

You can feel whenever he licks his fingers clean. His tongue grinds against your clit when he does and it feels so good. 

“Don’t stop.” 

“Never. I couldn’t. Mhhhm princess…”

He connects his tongue with your clit completely, grinding the flat of it against you. He purrs into you, picking up a quick and deep rhythm with his fingers. 

“Oh! Wow! Ah!” you yelp up, body trembling in blissed shock. A groan of his name and an arch of your back follows. 

Yoongi moans with you, furrowing his brows in pleasure. This is it. You are currently existing for nothing but the bliss he makes you feel. He feels high from pride. He doesn’t need his cock to drive you wild. He knows exactly what he has to do with his hands to fulfill your every need. 

“Holy moly, this feels so good. What the fuck”, you croak out, reaching down to hold whatever you can grab first. 

It is his other hand, once dug deep into your thigh possessively, you manage to pull it away from you. He intertwines his fingers with you, giving you a loving squeeze as his other hand makes passionate love to your dripping pussy. 

“Yoongi. Yoongi, oh god, Yoongi”, you moan, allowing your legs to shake against your will. It is the only right way to handle how he fingers you. 

Yoongi’s hands deserve a hymn of their own. If somebody would dare you to describe what his hands meant to you, they would regret it because you would not be able to shut up. Not only are they beautiful and sexy, they are also makers of so many of your favourite memories. Holding hands, intertwining fingers when dancing, feeling his loving touch when you’re half asleep, feeling his grip when you are lost in shared pleasure are just a few of the things they are so good at. Cooking for you, creating for you, making music, nourishing your plants and using them to fight for good are just a few of the other things. 

Yoongi’s hands deserve their own hymn, for everything they do and especially for the way they finger you.

“Feels so good. Yoongi, your fingers, ah!”

Yoongi buries them deeper, twisting his hand in circular motions to give you a taste of them. You writhe and shake on the piano, clit throbbing under his tongue. 

You like it. Yoongi growls because of it, drooling all over you which is perfect because it means that his fingers slip so much easier. 

“Yoongi, oh god.”

“I fucking love how you say my name”, he lulls, giving you electric pleasure one deep thrust at a time. “and gotta love your pussy too, princess. Such a sweet, warm pussy. Makes me drunk on you, princess love…”

Any kind of insecurity, jealousy or anxiety you felt tonight is gone from your system. As is your anger. Yoongi’s good like that, he fucks you well like that, know you best like that. The proof of his devotion is at the tip of his long fingers, the proof of his love sits on his warm tongue. And right now he is loving you mighty well, fucking wet pleasure out of you and slurping it up hungrily.

“Yoongi-i-i”, you sob, grabbing his hair to twist it, “I’m really close, o-oh god.”

“Whenever you need to, princess.” 

You grab his hair and push him closer, rolling your hips against his face. 

Yoongi lets you, moaning blissfully. There is nothing better to him than you using his face to make yourself orgasm. He might need to write a song about it, call it something nasty because it would make you wet. He loves when you’re wet, especially when you’re wet on his face. 

“Ah, Yoongi. Oh god”, you moan and pant, smothering him in your warmth. The fingers in his hair hurt. He likes it, squeezing your other hand softly. He keeps his fingers deep inside you, letting you use them as your beloved dildo. You deserve it. You’re so perfect when you ride his fingers like that.

“Shit. It’s- now!” 

You begin throbbing around him, pushing his mouth against your pulsing clit. You mewl and keen. Yoongi picks up the rhythm you lost as your body tenses up, fingering your convulsing walls quickly all while his dripping tongue flicks against your clit in a fast rhythm. 

The consequences are inescapable. You squirt on his face, wailing his name because it feels so good when he makes you squirt. Like, so good.

He makes you feel so good in fact that you need to pull him away after your orgasm. You can’t take another one. Not for a while. 

Yoongi mewls and purrs softly, stilling his hunger for more by kissing and licking your thighs. He gets you so messy, making you sigh as you recover. 

You sit up once you feel ready, denying him of your thighs. Yoongi however is delirious, stilling his gluttony by kissing and licking your neck instead. He has to get on his tiptoes for it because you are taller than him on the piano. His strong arms are around your waist as tightly as possible, his hands are holding you possessively, his chest is pressed against yours. 

“Please don’t doubt my love for you, please. I love you so much”, he chokes out the words, sniffling against your neck.

“I love you too”, you hug him against your chest. Fingers deep in his hair. “I’m not doubting your love for me. I hope you know that.”

Yoongi sinks into your chest with a deep sigh. The kind which releases him of his long day. He mewls quietly, nuzzling like a kitten needy for love.

“Are you alright, my love? Honest answer. I know the F word is kinda a lot to handle.” 

“I’m alright now. Just glad to be with you.” 

“I’m glad to be with you too, Boongie.” 

He lifts his head, resting his chin in your boobs. He flutters his lashes at you and pouts.

“Can I please have that kiss now?” he pleads, making cute puppy eyes at you.

“Do you think you deserve it?” you tease, booping his cute nose adoringly. 

“I made you squirt?” he almost asks his argument for why he deserves it, fluttering his lashes again.

You laugh, “fine. You won me over. Come and kiss me like you missed me.”

“Oh, I did. I missed you”, Yoongi says and picks you off the piano to pull you into his beloved kiss. 

[xoxochb]

Ok, could I PLEASE get a Leo x fem!reader fan fic where they're best friends but both want to be more (maybe they kiss...idk) ??? Pls, I'm desperate. There's not enough Leo fanfics and you're such a good writer.

— astronomy nerd

warnings: leo has W rizz 💯 (do people still say this?) pairing: leo valdez x fem! reader

“well anyways, there is no sound in space because there’s no atmosphere to carry the sound vibrations. It’s really cool if you think about it. are you thinking about it? whatever, did you know the sunsets on mars are blue? how cool is that?! and one million earths could fit in the sun, isn’t that awesome! just imagine that, the sun is huge, I mean seriously-”

your voice trails off forever, you had been talking non stop about miscellaneous outer space facts since leo had walked into your cabin and caught you reading a planet book. it’s not that he hated listening to you talk, gods no, he would listen to you talk for hours on end without a stop but in this particular moment he found himself distracted by the bright smile adorning your lips, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. and with you being too busy caught up in your space talk you fail to realize leo hadn’t been listening

but you did, however, finally take notice when you ask him a question and he doesn’t respond, stuck in some kind of daze. you call out his name three times before snapping your fingers in front of his eyes, making them widen and his cheeks flush red

“you weren’t listening” you point out

“I’m sorry I- uhm, I’ll listen now. sorry”

you sigh. “what do you think about creating life on mars?”

creating…life? it doesn’t even take a second for leo’s brain to go from concentrating on your words to imagining creating life within you, forget fucking mars, when you’re older and leave camp preferably married with kids. with your good looks and his humor that’d be one hell of a child! he can’t suppress the widening grin, which you additionally notice

“you’re not listening again! what are you thinking about?”

“I think you should!”

your brows furrow at the late reply to your question. “okay… well I surely can’t. but the scientists at nasa know that mars has water so really if you think about it we need to bring seeds from earth to mars and we can build trees, y’know? then that will create oxygen— mars has a very thin atmosphere meaning you can’t breathe on it, but if you just put this huge tent around it the oxygen would start flowing and you’d be able to breathe. does that make sense?”

“what would the tent do if there’s no atmosphere on mars though?”

“I watched a movie about it once… but… you make a good point” you frown, realizing your information had gotten mixed. leo mirrors your expression when he realizes he had upset you. the aura of the room suddenly becomes very awkward

don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid don’t say something stupid-

leo’s mouth fails him. “what does a star win in a competition?”

your lips twitching upwards was worth the idiotic joke he’s about to respond to

“a constellation prize”

“I have another! what type of music do planets sing?”

“what type?”

“nep-tunes!”

your laugh progresses. “where did you find these jokes?”

(the second he found out you liked astronomy and outer space he had researched like crazy so he could come up with the best jokes possible to impress you). he shrugs. “I made them myself”

“really?”

oh gods he hopes the blush on his face isn’t visible. “yeah…”

“you should be, like, a stand up comedian or something. you’re really good”

okay, yeah, he’s gonna put a ring on it the first chance he can get (your wedding has been elaborately planned already, he keeps the plans hidden underneath his mattress). with your smile as bright as the stars, eyes reflections of the moon, your hair cascading over your shoulders like the sunset over the evening sky, extremely captivating to the eyes of the silly son of hepheastus. he hoped he didn’t look like a lovesick puppy right now, staring at you like this, yet he’s surprised to find your gaze mirrors his. oh no

no no no. leo prays to ever god and goddess he’s aware of that you can’t visible see his cherry red cheeks or his smile of contentment

“do you think there’s more than one universe?” he blurts out

“of course. why?”

“because I think I’d love you all the same in every one regardless of our forms”

good gods of olympus your heart skips a beat or two. act casual

“even if I was a worm?”

“I’d build you a terrarium”

“If I was a star?”

“I’d place myself next to you”

you shouldn’t be tearing up at the thought of this but you can’t help the drops of salty water that fall from your eyes. “In every universe would you be staring at my lips instead of listening to what I’m saying?”

“if your lips always look this kissable, then yes”

oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods so this is really happening? this is real life? surely, truly?

“leo, can I-”

“please”

you suck in a breath and whisper, “I’ve never done this before”

“I haven’t either”

very slowly, almost like neither of you had moved at all, you lean in until your lips finally meet in the middle at last. not just the first kiss, because this surely was not going to be the last

[the--blackdahlia]

Wild Horses (Beetlejuice x Reader)

Title: Wild Horses

Summary: Lydia keeps summoning Beetlejuice away from (Y/n) right when they get to the good part. He wants to know why.

Warning: Hinted sexual content, body image issues

“Mmm babes, you smell delicious,” Beetlejuice started kissing behind (y/n)’s ear, smirking at the reaction he was getting from her. They were both on her bed, where they had been listening to music and talking, but now, Beetlejuice had other things in mind.

“Beej, the door’s open,” (Y/n) was trying to find an excuse to get him to stop. She wanted to go on, she really liked him, but insecurities had a tendency to get the best of her. Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and the door shut, the loud creaking of the hinges echoing down the hall.

“There, that’s taken care of,” He went back to kissing (Y/n)’s neck.

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!” He heard Lydia summon him. With a loud groan, he left (Y/n)’s side and appeared in the dining room, where Lydia, Barbara, and Adam were set around the table.

“What is so fucking important?!” He snapped.

“We need a fourth for cards. Matilda’s at work.” Beetlejuice stood there for a second, just staring at her. She swore she could see the red spreading across his ashy skin.

“YOU FUCKING SUMMONED ME TO PLAY CARDS?!” He exploded, and the Maitlands could practically see smoke coming out of his ears.

“Yes I did. Now come sit,” Lydia was calm, used to Beetlejuice’s tantrums. She had even set up a little corner in a couple of the rooms for him to throw tantrums in. Matilda had even made signs for them during craft night at the library. Beetlejuice grumbled but took a seat across from Lydia.

“Five card stud? Texas Hold ‘Em? Stripping?” Beetlejuice wiggled his eyebrows.

“We’re playing Spades,” Barbara smiled at him, and Beetlejuice groaned.

“You pulled me away from a fucking sexy woman…to play Spades?”

“Yep. Adam’s dealer first,” Lydia gave Beetlejuice a shit-eating grin. Beetlejuice let out the most annoyed groan before picking up his cards to play the game.

****

That’s how things went over the next few weeks. Every time Beetlejuice started to get intimate, Matilda or Lydia would summon him away from (Y/n). It was really starting to annoy him, especially when he would go back to pick up where he left off and (Y/n) would be asleep or otherwise preoccupied.

Finally, after Lydia pulled him away to go have lunch with Matilda, he just about had enough.

“Why do you keep doing this shit to me Lyds?” He grumbled as the three sat in the parking lot of the Subway close to their house.

“Can’t I just spend time with my friend?” She sounded so innocent, but he knew there was something deeper behind her words.

“You never wanted to do that all the time until I got with (Y/n). So what’s up?” Matilda and Lydia looked at each other.

“Maybe we should tell him,” Matilda took a bite of her Miss Vickie’s.

“Okay, okay,” Lydia took a drink before turning to look at Beetlejuice. “(Y/n) hates the way her body looks. And she’s worried that you’ll find her repulsive.”

“...She does realize I’m a dead guy, right?” Beetlejuice looked at Lydia and Matilda like they had two heads. “I mean, she would legit be fucking a zombie pretty much.”

“Gross,” Matilda commented, making Beetlejuice roll his eyes.

“That’s it. I’ve got to fix this,” Beetlejuice had a look in his eye as ideas came pouring in. He knew what he needed to do.

****

“I’m home!” (Y/n) called out, carrying groceries in. “Hello?” The house was eerily silent. (Y/n) looked at the fridge and saw a note from Lydia.

‘Date night with Matilda. Be back late. -Lydia’

“Hmmm, okay,” She worked on putting groceries away. “Beej, you home?” She called out but didn’t hear him. She sighed and grabbed the drink she had bought herself and headed up the stairs to her room to read and relax.

Upon approaching her door, she could hear what sounded to be the Rolling Stones playing. Pushing open the door, she saw Beetlejuice sitting on her bed, guitar in hand, with dead flowers surrounding him. He was singing, but it sounded more like Mick Jagger than him.

“Wild horses. Couldn't drag me away. Wild, wild horses. Couldn't drag me away,” Beetlejuice sang to (Y/n). She sat her drink on her desk and walked towards him. He stopped playing when she saw by him.

“What’s all this about?” She picked up one of the dying daises and slipped it on top of her ear.

“I thought it’d be…romantic?” He couldn’t stop staring at her. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beej…”

“Nope. No arguing with me. I mean,” The guitar disappeared as he stood up. “I’m literally a dead guy. And you are the most beautiful breather I’ve ever seen.”

“Guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one,” (Y/n) was suddenly taken aback when Beetlejuice took her face in his hands.

“We’re not leaving this room until I prove to you that you are beautiful,” He got a wicked smile on his face. “And babe, I can go all night.”

[urhoneycombwitch]

foreword: just a lil roommate!eddie x reader blurb loosely based on this anon. lead up to phone sex, +18 mdni as always

wc: 600

___

The plastic of your landline phone has warmed to the temperature of your cheek, and your limbs feel heavy under the weight of your quilt. On the other end of the line, Eddie sighs in similar repose, six states away.

“Gareth still snores, for the record. Not even the van’s engine can drown him out.” He’s lamenting over missing you as a roommate, telling you all the worst parts of sharing small vehicle spaces and shitty motel rooms with a bunch of boys.

Corroded Coffin still has four more stops on their tour, and Eddie’s finding the traveling life of an independent artist nigh unbearable.

You hum, mock sympathetic. “Poor you. Would hate to be drowning in a pool of groupies and drinking myself blind every night.”

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, goodnaturedly. There’s a rustling on the other end, as if he’s lying down to get more comfortable. “You know you’re my only groupie. And besides, the boys went out in their cups tonight, not me. I’m by my lonesome in the room right now.”

You can picture him clearly in your mind’s eye, stretched face-up on the mattress, band tee riding up to reveal the dark happy trail you’ve caught glimpses of before. Saliva pools in your mouth; you have to swallow before responding. “Wow. Refused a wild night on the town just to call me?”

“Sweetheart, don’t act like you don’t know you’re my favorite person to spend time with.”

The sincerity in his voice makes you squirm. Feeling suddenly too hot and restless underneath the covers, you shove them down past your hips for some air flow. “I’m flattered. Bet you say that to all the fans, just to get in their pants.”

“Nah. Just you. And besides, it’s working, isn’t it?” Eddie’s voice gets gravelly. There’s the distinct sound of jeans getting unzipped, then faded rustling. A sharp, quick inhale, then- “What are you wearing?”

A laugh bubbles out of you, humorous even while you scold, “Perv.” Your fingers toy with the lace band of your underwear, giving it a snap you hope is audible. “You really need sex that bad, you’re calling it in?”

“S’different with you.”

Eddie’s fucking up the routine. It’s supposed to go like this, when he’s gone- he waits a few days to call, then when he does, you both keep up the pretense of regularity with the usual bickering. And then it devolves into phone sex.

He’s not supposed to bring up how much he misses you, and he’s certainly not supposed to say, out loud, that you’re different than the rest.

Your fingers are frozen on the soft plane of your stomach, heart thumping wildly in your throat.

Eddie must realize his mistake, the ice where he’s skated out past undefined boundaries spiderwebbing cracks. He retracts, lies flat again, a smooth recovery in the form of an appeasing sigh before saying, “Sorry. Just miss you. Gonna tell me what you’re wearing or am I gonna have to use my imagination?”

“God forbid.” Relief floods your system, fingers gliding easily underneath the line of your panties with the safety of familiarity. “You’ve probably got me in fishnets and heels. Hate to burst your skeevy bubble, but I haven’t done laundry in a week. I’m in an old t-shirt and plain Jane undies.”

Eddie makes a soft, seeking noise that makes the heartbeat between your legs pulse. “For the record, I was imagining you naked, but this works, too.”

“Y’gonna come back soon and do my laundry?” It’s getting harder to speak, breathy little whines intermixed, pad of your finger collecting the arousal seeping from your core to drag it upwards. “Always do it better’n me.”

“Oh, yeah.” In answer to your own noises, there’s the wet sound of Eddie’s fist around his cock, moving in steady rhythm. “Next week and I’m yours, babe. I’ll use the good stuff. Fabric softener. You name it-”

“Fuck.” It’s searingly domestic dirty talk. You’ll be coming undone in minutes and he goddamn knows it. Your finger swirls, breath catching again, and Eddie coos encouragement down the line.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re all I wanna hear.”

[mattitties]

Boyfriend, pt 3 - matt sturniolo

smutty smut smut!

part 1 part 2

“How was the date?” my roommate asks as I go into her room.

All I can do is smile. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my life. “I love him,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh jesus. Okay, come sit, tell me everything.” 

I sit on her bed and recount the whole night, from him picking me up at the door, to listening to Taylor Swift with me, to me never feeling a moment of awkwardness, and finally, to him kissing me outside the apartment. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a boyfriend so any ounce of actual romantic attention is a dream come true but I genuinely think he’s perfect for me,” I tell her.

“He does sound pretty perfect for you…”

“See!”

“But slow ya roll! Take it easy, just don’t rush into anything.” I nod in agreement. I know that there’s still so much to learn about him, but I just feel like I already trust him with my life. It takes me a long time to feel truly comfortable with anyone, but there’s just something about him that makes me feel like I’ve known him forever.

I wake up the next morning later than usual, and to my surprise, I already have a text from him. 

Good morning! I had a lot of fun last night :) 

I’m about to respond when another text comes through.

Would u wanna grab lunch today? I can pick u up again

I smile to myself and start typing.

good morning!! i had fun too, and i would love to get lunch! what time?

I can get you around 2?

sounds good see you then 😁

I look at the time and panic when I see it’s already 12:30. How the fuck did I sleep so late? I get ready and before I know it, it’s 1:55 and he’s texted me that he’s here. I have to applaud his punctuality, it’s hot as fuck knowing that he actually cares enough to be somewhere on time. God, I really need to raise my standards.

I head downstairs and he’s in the same spot by the door, smiling shyly when he sees me. His fashion sense is immaculate: today he’s wearing black cargo jeans, a black T-shirt, and a white long sleeve underneath. I’m disappointed that he’s not showing off his sleeve of tattoos like last night, but I still can’t stop staring at him. 

“Hi,” he smiles, giving me a hug. He smells good, like warm vanilla, and his hug is the most comforting thing in the world at this moment. 

“How’ve you been in the last… 12 hours since I saw you?” I ask as we head to the car.

“Oh you know, just been sitting at home twiddling my thumbs until I could see you again. We’re at a three day streak now!” he tells me as he opens the door for me. 

I laugh and can’t take my eyes off of him as he makes his way to the driver’s side. “Why’d you wear a long sleeve today? I miss your tattoos,” I fake pout and play with his sleeve.

“Ohhh, you can see those whenever you want, don’t you worry.” 

God, he makes me fucking crazy. We start driving, talking about mindless things, and end up at a little diner not too far from my apartment.

“My brothers and I go here all the time, their food is so good,” he tells me as we go inside.

Once we’re seated and have ordered our food, our conversation flows just the same as it did last night, except today we’re talking about stuff that it usually takes me at least a few weeks of knowing someone before I share about. I tell him about my family, he tells me about his and how he’s never been away from his brothers for more than 24 hours, while I tell him that my brothers and I are more like acquaintances and I only ever talk to them about surface level stuff. 

“I couldn’t imagine,” he says. “Nick and Chris are like my safety nets. To be honest, tonight and today are the first time I’ve actually gone out to a restaurant without at least one of them in like… 3 years.”

“Really? I actually don’t mind doing stuff alone. I know people hate going out to eat by themselves, but I think I just grew up so independent that I’m comfortable with it. Like, my favorite thing ever is going to the movies, but if I don’t have anyone to go with I’ll just go by myself. I find it peaceful,” I tell him. 

“I love going to the movies too, but I could never go by myself. That sounds fucking terrifying,” he says, laughing a bit as he talks. 

“I get it,” I say. “Well, would you ever want to go to a movie together? It’s not alone and we both like it, so…”

He smiles. “I would love to. But if you talk in there, I’m out. We’re done. No movie talkers in my presence.”

I shake my head very seriously. “Oh no, absolutely not. Trust me, you won’t hear a peep.”

By the time we finish lunch, it’s only 3:45, and neither of us are ready to go home yet. 

He turns to me when we get in the car. “What do you think about that movie right now? I have nothing else going on the rest of the day.”

We arrive at the theater and just pick a movie at random. Neither of us have any real interest in seeing any of the ones they’re showing, but it gives us something to do together. We’re pleasantly surprised when we walk into an empty theater, so we take our seats and make fun of the trailers until the movie starts. 

About 30 minutes in, I realize that I have no idea what’s happening in the movie. I’ve been glancing at Matt the whole time, trying to pretend like I don’t see him glancing at me too. I can tell that he wants to hold my hand, wrap his arm around me, just touch me in some way, and I want to just scream at him to do something. It’s all I can think about. I shift up a little in my seat and look at him slightly. He looks at me. Without saying a word, we both know what the other wants.

He takes my cheek softly in his hand and kisses me. I immediately fall into it, our lips moving together effortlessly, our tongues colliding. But I want more. I need more. 

“Matt,” I say between kisses. “Can we go back to my place?”

“But the movie isn’t over yet,” he breathes into my mouth.

I pull back slightly and look at him with the same eyes I gave him two nights ago. “Matt. My place. Please?”

His eyes widen. “Oh. Oh.” 

I nod and giggle as he grabs my hand and rushes me out of there and back to his car like his life depends on it. Luckily the movie theater is about 5 minutes away from my apartment, and even more luckily my roommate is at work. The tension in the car ride home and in the elevator is so thick I can hardly breathe. As soon as we open the door to my room, his hands are all over me. We’re kissing messier than before; our teeth are clashing, our tongues fighting one another. He walks us towards my bed, dipping his head so his mouth reaches my neck as he begins to kiss, nip, and suck. 

“Matt,” I whine.

“Hmmm,” he hums in response, sucking a spot right under my ear. I begin to play with the bottom of his shirt, signaling that I want it off. He smirks and unlatches himself from my neck just long enough to pull it off his body before going back to what he was doing.

“God you’re so hot,” I half whisper as my hands run down from his chest to his happy trail. I grab his face in my hands and kiss him hard, then sit down on the bed and look up at him. 

“What do you wanna do?” he teases, knowing exactly what I want. I pull my shirt off, leaving me in a black lace bra, and begin to undo his jeans as he stares down at me. 

“Is this okay?” I ask, pulling his zipper down painfully slow.

“Mhm. Yeah, no it’s, um, it’s good,” he says, clearly flustered by what’s happening. And I can’t get enough.

I pull his jeans down and almost drool over his black briefs. I look up at him again for a moment, then palm over his bulge, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as I tear his briefs down as well, and I need to control my face when I see his dick.

It’s not huge, probably about 6 inches, but it’s genuinely perfect. I never thought I’d say that about a dick, but no, it is perfect. 

He inhales sharply as I wrap my hand around the tip and begin to work him, my thumb running over his slit every so often. I spit directly down on him as my hand moves down his shaft, and he groans again, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail. 

That’s my signal to wrap my lips around him and suck.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back for a moment before looking back down at me. My mouth takes him deeper and deeper with each suck, and his hips begin to buck toward me. 

He didn’t strike me as someone who would be very vocal during sex, but he’s consistently groaning and letting out soft curses.

After just a minute or two of this, he pulls my head off of him. 

“Lay down before I cum in your mouth,” he tells me as I move myself back towards the head of the bed and sit back on my elbows. He crawls over me, kissing my neck, chest, and stomach. “This is all I’ve been thinking about for the past 2 days. Can I take this off?” he asks, referring to my bra.

I nod. 

“Words, baby.”

“Please take it off,” I whine. He undoes the clasp and tosses it aside, taking a moment to stare before dipping his head back down and starting to suck on my left nipple. 

My breathing picks up as he starts to kiss lower and lower, not breaking eye contact when he removes my skirt and underwear at the same time.

He stares down at my dripping pussy, and although I’m extremely turned on and want nothing more than to fuck him right now, I’m reluctant to open my legs as the reality sets in of what’s happening.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, looking up at me with concern in his eyes.

“I just… haven’t done this in a while. I think I’m nervous,” I tell him quietly.

“I’ve got you, I swear. And if you wanna stop just tell me, okay?”

I nod. I can tell he’s being genuine; he’s not just telling me what I want to hear so he can fuck me. He really cares.

I watch as he opens my legs and hooks them over his shoulders. “You’re drippin for me, huh?” he asks, kissing my inner thighs.

“Mhm. I’ve wanted you so bad,” I barely even have time to finish my sentence before he’s putting his tongue inside my pussy. I gasp and grab his hair, my back arching which only makes him go deeper.

He moans repeatedly as he tongue fucks me, sending vibrations through my core. I’m a moaning mess, my heels are digging into his back, and it only gets worse as he brings his thumb to my clit and starts circling lightly. 

“Matt,” I’m on the verge of tears. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, oh my god— “

My orgasm rips through me with no warning, and I’m cumming on his tongue. He doesn’t give me any time to come down before he’s leaning over me, pushing my legs up so my knees are by my face. 

“Do you have condoms?” he asks, pushing my hair back.

I shake my head. “I’m on birth control. I’m clean, obviously.”

“So am I,” he says, running his leaking tip over my clit. 

I almost scream, I’m so sensitive. He looks so fucking good leaning over me. I grip his arm as he pushes into me. There’s a moment of pain as he fills me up, but it quickly turns to pleasure when he starts thrusting into me.

“Is this okay?” he asks, noticing my face and the tight grip I have on his arm.

“Yeah, just hurt for a second, but please keep going,” I breathe, pulling his head down for another kiss.

His thrusts get harder and faster with each passing minute. He fills me so perfectly, I never want this to end. I feel the coil tighten in my stomach yet again, and my moans get louder and needier.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” he taunts.

Baby. I clench around him and nod. “Uh huh.”

“Ohhh, good girl, keep squeezing my cock like that,” he groans. His thrusts are getting erratic, and his dick begins to twitch inside of me.

I chant his name like it’s the only word I know how to say as another orgasm hits me, and I’m squeezing him hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ohhhhh fuck,” he groans as his own orgasm hits him, and I feel him release inside of me, his head collapsing into my neck.

We stay just like that for a few moments, him inside of me, us both half dead and breathing heavy, before he pulls out, picks me up bridal style, and sets me on the toilet.

“It’s peepee time!” he says excitedly while clapping his hands softly, causing me to crack up.

“You just fucked me and came inside of me and now you’re saying ‘it’s peepee time’? You’re such a freak,” I tell him.

After I finish, we take a quick shower to clean up, and I get unreasonably sad as he starts to get dressed.

I walk him to my front door and he kisses me again. “Let me know your work schedule this week. We’re going out again.”

“Okay, I will,” I smile and nod as I watch him leave.

I’m definitely falling for this guy. 

-----------------------------------------------

this was ridiculously long. i did not intend for that to happen. i really have no intentions of making this a full length series because i have other stories i wanna do and i have a few requests sitting in my inbox, so as the author i am telling you that they lived happily ever after yayyyyy

[azsazz]

Brains and Bravado

Kinktober Day 12: Dorian x Reader [Hate-Fucking]

Summary: Anon Req: For kinktober I would like to see either Rowan or Dorian! Maybe reader doesn’t get along with him but they have hate sex a lot and secretly like each other, however, they’re too stubborn (their pride) to admit it. Thank you for writing so many amazing fics for us, I’m excited for kinktober!👻

Based off of the previous ask of Dark Academia!Dorian

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3,944

Notes: You'll know the part I yearn for when you read it 😏 the rest is sort of meh

_________________________________________

You dislike Dorian Havilliard very much.

It doesn’t matter that he’s the son to the king or that his best friend is a lord-turned-captain-of-the-royal-guard. Here, he’s just Dorian, an annoying pain-in-the-ass know-it-all that you’ve sworn to demolish with your good grades.

Unfortunately, Dorian is as smart with his head as he is with that tongue.

It’s said tongue of his that always gets him out of trouble. The professors love him, eat up any excuse to fall into his good graces, whether it’s passing him with flying colors or allowing him extra special office hours whenever he should come calling. 

It’s not only the teachers who fall for the boy who makes the ugly, pristinely-pressed uniform look way too good. Everyone laughs at his jokes, flounders over his words even when they have no meaning at all. Girls and boys alike fall to his feet at the charming ways he speaks to them, looks at them, flirtatious to the bone.

You aren’t like that. Intelligent, yes, but your lips don’t curve around your words like Dorian’s do. They are his long-time lover, held near and dear and are cared for. He speaks like an age-old poem, like he’d been an esteemed author in a past life, the way they flow so easily for him. 

No, you can write beautiful sentences, transform letters into works of art, ones that bring tears to the eyes of the beholder, but it’s speaking eloquently that always trips you up. You lack the emotion, the confidence, to really make your words ring true.

The laughter and easiness of the hall seems to dwindle into a silence that only Dorian himself can evoke, and you turn from gathering the textbooks you’ll need for the afternoon to watch. You don’t want to, but for some reason you’re as drawn to him as the rest of the crowd is.

Dorian’s sapphire eyes stir something in your chest, even more so when they flicker down your body and that little smirk appears, the one he knows pisses you off to no end. Your stare turns into a molten glare at that look, and the feeling coursing through your veins must be a hot hatred for the boy striding down the damned halls like he owns the place.

Chaol trails Dorian down the hall like an esteemed purebred, waiting for a treat. He had the glare of a bloodhound too, but it doesn’t do much to ward off the flirtatious glares the prince is receiving. There hasn’t been a single time all year that you’ve seen them apart. They’re even in all of the same classes for Mother’s sake.

That look makes you want to squirm, to claw his eyes out. What a privilege it must be, to be the king’s son, you think, slamming your locker shut with a loud clang and spinning on your heel, stalking down the hall to your next class.

One of the ones that Dorian’s in.

Thankfully, he stops to ogle some girls who’ve hiked their uniform skirts up to their eyes at the appearance of the prince. Chaol, ever the mindful guard, stops with them.

You can feel those gemstone eyes following you down the hall. Of course, everything that Dorian sees in you is only surface level. He doesn’t know your background or the fact that you’d been kept at school over the summer because your parents couldn’t afford for you to come home, all while he was living it up in the lavish palace he calls home.

He doesn’t know that late at night you sneak out of your rooms and into the library. There’s a hidden door in there, tucked away within the vast stacks of a history so ancient, that it makes you shudder to even glance at. You haven’t found the courage to step foot down that particular aisle of books because the raw power in the air makes the hair on your arms stand tall. You had made it your mission to muster the confidence to see what’s behind that door before you graduate, and plan on spending any of your free time searching for other hidden passageways within this centuries old school.

Whilst lost in the thoughts of the door in the library, you almost miss out on the entire lecture. Your professor doesn’t seem to notice because Dorian is answering all the questions she asks, and she’s wooed by his boring responses that even the dunces of the class could explain with flying colors.

By the time you’re released from class, you’ve decided to explore more of the library for hidden doors or books that give off a harrowing aura, when you slam into a wall. Not a wall, but the chest of your rival, Dorian Havilliard.

“Where are you going?” He asks, blocking you from stepping out into the hall.

You haven’t realized that the class had cleared out so quickly, and you shuffle a step backwards, trying to ignore the heat of his body and the way it had felt pressed against yours for a fleeting moment. In a burst of betrayal, that warmth converges between your thighs, and your muscles jump as you try to clench them together without his notice.

“To the library.” You don’t know why you answer, maybe because you’re thrown off by his sudden presence and lack thereof his best friend. Where is Chaol, you wonder, swallowing harshly when Dorian leans against his arm in the doorframe. He’s tall, muscular, and the shape he’s in draws your gaze down his perfect frame.

Something in those sapphire eyes flash, his mouth flattening from his smirk. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you argue. Who is he to tell you what you can and can’t do in your own free time? “I want to get started on the paper Professor Erawan assigned us,” you lie, thankfully remembering that tidbit from class while your mind strayed.

“Then I’ll come with you.” It’s not a suggestion.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly want from you when there are plenty of people willing to give him the attention he’s craving. Dorian straightens and waves you out of the room with a flourish of his hand.

You stare for a long moment, brows furrowed as you try to figure him out. You’re not friends, and you don’t want to be. All you really want is to beat him at his game of wits, be the first in class, and solve the mystery of what’s behind the dark door in the library. None of which needs any involvement from him.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, giving him a wide berth as you step around him into the hall. He immediately steps into line with you, and you try to ignore the way that he’s slowing his gait to stride alongside you. “You’re only coming to flirt with the librarian.”

Dorian’s grin is wolfish, “Why would I flirt with the librarian, when you’re right next to me?”

You trip over your feet at his words. Dorian catches you with a hand around your arm, steadying you. His touch is hot on your skin, and the look in his eyes is hot.

Your heart races in your chest.

Of course, Dorian has an ethereal beauty to him that anyone would consider themselves lucky to be with, but the fact that he’s flirting with you of all people, when all you’ve done all year is argue and bicker like an old married couple confuses you almost as much as the idea of the hidden door in the library.

“I don’t know why you’d flirt with me at all, actually,” you reply when you can finally find your voice. You’re being snippy, but you want the irritatingly handsome boy beside you to go away. He can find a place to stuff his cock elsewhere—you’re nowhere near as easy as the rest of the students in this school. “We don’t like each other.”

“Awe,” Dorian croons. When you glance over at him, he’s wearing a taunting smile, one that fills you with as much warmth as a cup of tea. “Who said I didn’t like you?”

Turning down the corridor to the library, it’s surely unlikely that Dorian will leave your side. You make a show of glancing around as if you’re looking for something, ignoring the way that your heart stammers in your chest at the mention that there’s a possibility he might actually enjoy your presence.

“Where is your little lap dog?”

Dorian barks out a startling laugh. He looks shocked himself, placing a hand to his chest, his cheeks pinkening as his chuckle echoes through the halls. It being the weekend, students and professors alike have fled the school buildings, more than ready to start the fun of the weekend.

You’re pretty sure that you and Dorian are the only ones left in the school.

“Chaol is on errand,” he tells you, sapphire eyes sparkling with interest. “Would you rather have him join?”

He says it like it’s a proposition, like you’d be pressed tightly between both of their bodies, like you’re not walking in through the doors into the expansive library that has more secrets than books.

You shoot Dorian a sidelong glance, your brows furrowed in confusion. He’s acting nothing like the Dorian you’re used to. Well, sure, he’s still the cocky prince you know, but the flirting is new. He’s staring ahead, like what he’s said hasn’t just thrown you completely off axis.

“Here looks good,” you mutter, sliding your books onto one of the large wooden tables lining the walls. Anything to fill the silence. It’s eerie in a building like this, stacks upon stacks of books filled with puzzles you’ve yet to piece together.

“You’re actually studying?” Dorian sounds affronted, like he can’t believe that studying is something done in a library at all. Like it’s some sort of secret brothel or a place for his conquests.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“I told you I was going to study,” you bite, “What did you think I was going to do?”

You regret the words almost as quickly as they leave your lips.

“I thought you invited me so that you could sneak your hands down my trousers. Wear my tie around your neck while I take you over the table, perhaps?”

“I didn’t invite you at all,” you fight, but your voice is as weak as the knees you’re pressing tightly together, trying to ignore the sudden interest your cunt has in his words.

You gasp when you’re suddenly turned around, Dorian pressing in close. He’s staring down at you like you’re his favorite treat, sapphire eyes dark with interest, want, and a tinge of…hate? Annoyance, maybe, because you’re putting up much more of a fight than he’s used to.

His cock twitches at that.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, and the tenor of his voice rumbles deliciously against your chest. His scent is intoxicating, and you’re sure that his calloused fingers would feel just as good pressed against your skin as they are pinning your hips to the edge of the table.

Your brain must be on the fritz. Maybe you’ve stepped through that scary, looming, ancient door into another world because this cannot be happening. This isn’t Dorian.

“Why me?” you voice is quiet, a minute tremble to it that makes Dorian’s lashes flutter. He shifts on his feet, and you bite back the groan that crawls up your throat at the feeling of his hardening cock in his pants against your front. “Why now?”

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his long fingers tucking your hair tenderly behind your ear. The motion has your thighs clenching. His breath is a warm caress as he says, “Because I love it when you fight me. And I’ve had enough of keeping myself at bay. Hate me, if you must, but please let me fuck you.”

 “Yes,” you sigh, and the word is barely out of your mouth before Dorian’s lips are against yours, hot and unyielding, ravaging you completely like a predator does it prey.

His fingers clutch at your clothes, curling into the fabric in a feral sort of need that has you gasping, has your cunt weeping and lightning zipping through your veins. You chase the feeling, rolling your hips against Dorian’s.

You don’t know what’s come over you. The taste of his lips is exquisite and much sweeter than the vitriol the both of you are usually spitting at each other. His scent invades your senses—ice, ocean, magic, and musk. It consumes you as much as his presence is right now, overwhelmed by not just the primal need for you in his life but because of the strange events that have led you from loathing the boy lying you back onto the wooden table.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants when you arch into his body. His breath is hot, mingling with your own as you gasp for air. Dorian’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, matching the color of his swollen lips that he darts his tongue across, chasing your taste. His sapphire eyes are all pupil, dark and consuming and hungry for more. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”

You follow his instruction like a person cursed, thighs spreading wide for Dorian as he stands to his full height. His eyes burn a thousand fires down your body as he takes his time drinking you in, the gentle caress of his hands following the same torturous path has shivers awakening across every inch of your body.

“Dorian,” you plead, but he’s too engrossed with taking his time. His fingers curl around the waistband of your pants, flicking the button open with ease and guiding them down your legs.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he admits, utterly distracted by the sight of your creamy thighs on display for him. He bites back the smirk that’s threatening to appear on his lips when you impatiently start kicking your pants down your legs with a frustrated and desperate keen. It makes his cock twitch, a bead of precum leak from the tip into the fabric of his underwear.

At the sight of your soaked panties calling to him like a siren, Dorian has to press his palm firmly against his aching cock, trying to keep himself from orgasming right now.

“How long?” you ask. Your fingers curl into the wood of the table because you need something to hold onto, and Dorian’s just out of reach. Your cheeks heat with arousal as those sapphire eyes zero in on your nipples where they’re tight and straining against your shirt. You don’t know why you feel the sudden urge to know how long he’s been thinking of you like this, why now is the time he’s finally decided to make his move, but you need to know his answer. “How long have you wanted me lying out for you like this, Dorian?”

His name sounds like heaven on your tongue, and he groans, releasing himself, his resolve snapping as he bends to take your mouth again.

You moan loudly, languidly. Dorian’s tongue brushes against yours and the feeling zips to your cunt as you imagine the feeling of his mouth sucking your clit, his tongue plunging inside of your dripping cunt like a starved male.

He hastily shoves up the fabric of your shirt, sneaking beneath the material of your bra to palm your breasts. You bury your fingers deeply into his hair, tugging on it when he tries to part from you. You didn’t know how desperately you’ve needed this—needed him—but now that his admission is out in the open and has you rethinking your dislike for the prince, you don’t want him to part from you.

“Since the first day we met,” Dorian breathes against your mouth. Your body goes slack with shock at the thought, fingers falling from his locks. Dorian doesn’t seem to notice, taking advantage of finally being free from you to mouth his way down your throat, burying his head beneath your shirt for a taste of your flesh.

You’d met Dorian years ago, on the first day of your time at school here. He was just as popular then as he is now, and just as cheeky, too. All you can recall from that day is the way how all of the other students were falling over their feet for a chance to befriend the prince. You’d wanted nothing to do with that, even when he’d stopped at your locker and tried to use his charm to get you to switch with him.

He had made a joke in poor taste, one that annoyed you enough to rebuttal with words not polite for someone of your status to say to a member of royalty, ever.

That was when you started to dislike Dorian Havilliard.

That sentiment is beginning to change, especially when he rolls one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

You cry out in pleasure, trying to grind your hips against his as you writhe beneath him on the table. Your arch, pressing your breasts into his mouth and he hums encouragingly, even more so when he hears the sound you make in response.

Dorian brushes his knuckles across your clothed cunt, reveling in how responsive you are for him when he’s barely done a thing. After this, he hopes that you won’t go back to hating him because he doesn’t think he can bear it, now that he has the taste of your engraved on his tongue.

He abandons post between your breasts, sliding his way down your body, kissing, licking, teasing every inch of skin that he can before he arrives at his desired destination. He settles himself between your legs, jerking your closer to him, your legs over his shoulders and ass leaning precariously on the edge of the table.

“Sweetheart?” he questions, and it takes effort for you to lift your head to look at him. Your body is burning with need, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your gaze is cloudy with lust and it takes you a few blinks to dispel it, giving Dorian your attention.

You scowl at the smirk gracing his lips. “What?”

“Do you still dislike me?”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Dorian pull your panties to the side with long fingers that you know could hit every neglected spot inside of you. The cool air from the library breezes across your wetness along with the heat of his breath and it sends your mind into a dizziness of desire that forces you to take a moment to catch your breath.

“If I say yes?” you ask, biting your lip. Will he stop? Pretend that this was all some sort of game? A bet that he and Chaol had going on? Will he pop out from between bookshelves to laugh?

Before your mind can grasp onto one of those thoughts and overthink it, Dorian says with a twinkle to his sapphire eyes, “I’d say that you’re not going to after this.”

And then the prince feasts.

You fall back to the table with a cry of satisfaction. The thud of your head smacking the wood echoes throughout the library but you hardly feel a thing as Dorian licks a fat stripe up your clit. He doesn’t hesitate to bury himself in your cunt, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. Your thighs are already threatening to clamp shut around his head but his strong hold keeps them splayed wide as he devours you.

“Princeling,” you whine when you feel the tidal wave of orgasm building. You don’t know where the nickname comes from, somewhere buried as deeply inside of you as Dorain’s tongue is, but it has him growling against your cunt, trapping your clit between his teeth and flicking his tongue across it faster.

There’s nowhere for you to go, nowhere to squirm with the feeling that crashes over you because Dorian’s strength is pinning you to the table. Your fingers find his scalp, biting in, and Dorian welcomes the feeling, using that wicked tongue on you even when the wave crashes and you’re trying to shove him weakly away from your aching clit.

The reprieve of Dorian pulling away doesn’t last long. He straightens to his full height, keeping your legs hooked over his shoulders. It causes your body to slide even closer to him, your wet cunt butting right up against his cock that’s straining so hard in his pants that it’s painful.

“You’ll never call me anything else. Promise me,” he says, and with that harsh look in his eyes and the way that his lips glisten with your orgasm, you could never say no.

Dorian unsheathes himself, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down just enough that his cock springs free from its confines. He takes himself in hand, eyes wild with desire as he slides himself through your slickness.

Your breath is choked when you respond, “I promise.”

It’s pressed from your lungs completely with each inch his cock plunges into you. Your nails scrape against the wood of the table, the finishing catching beneath your nails. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling of him stretching you wide, Dorian’s low groan reflecting the one that your body is desperate to release but is unable to.

His curse is sinful when his hips finally meet yours. He’s staring down at you like you’re everything to him. Like you’re his queen.

“Dorian,” you gasp.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Move.”

Move he does. Dorian’s hands meet your hips and your fingers clamp down on his forearms as he thrusts his hips. He loves the marks you’re leaving on his skin, the way you’re branding him with your hot, wet cunt wrapped tightly around him. There’s a sheen to his eyes that shifts something in your soul. You can feel it splintering out of your chest, winding through your veins and into Dorian’s where you’re connected.

He seems to feel it too, with the way that he leans over you again to capture your mouth against his.

“You will be my ending,” Dorian breathes when he’s able to pull himself away from you. He doesn’t go far, his lips brushing yours with his confession. “I would give you my last breath if it meant keeping you alive, but I’m selfish enough to admit that I’d waste it because I cannot imagine a plane of existence where I am without you.”

“Dorian!” You shudder with his words, hiss because how can one male be so good with words? So good with his fingers, his tongue, his cock? The way that he’s hitting that spot again and again and again is driving you over the edge into an oblivion that he follows you into because he meant what he just said.

You revel in the weight of his body collapsing against yours while he paints the walls of your cunt with his cum. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tucked deeply inside of you. Your hearts beat loudly against each other, a heady drum of confessions and more.

You peck Dorian once, twice when your mind clears, trying to pull him from the stupor your cunt has put him in. He’s never felt like this before, never had sex this good. Even when you’re spewing fire at him, he’s wanted this, wanted you from the moment he set those sapphire eyes on you.

And now he has you.

[coldbronzemoon]

Danny Fenton, Totally Mortal Hero Consultant (DPxDC)

Snippet for an AU I'll probably never fully write where Danny takes a job as a consultant for the Justice League to help with ghost and demon bullshit. It's a pretty good cash flow to help him with college, after all, and very flexible hours.

He just claims all his knowledge comes from his parents. Unfortunately, the JL has caught word of the elusive yet active hero Phantom, and want Danny to help them meet and assess him. Whoops.

Over the phone, Tucker sighed. “Good Christ, Danny, why do you keep doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said immediately. He winced at the vague sound of screaming below. Demons sucked. “I didn’t know the JL thing was gonna have me finding Phantom. How would I? They were talking about tracking down powerful ghosts, I was assuming Ancients!”

Tucker sighed again, which was really quite unfair of him. “Mhm. Well, Fenton Catcher?”

“Probably not. They know me pretty well at this point, and unlike what Sam says I can be professional. I’d confuse them with the… uh…”

“Stoner shtick?”

There was more screaming happening, but judging from the pitch it was a demon screaming this time. Danny checked the situation. Yep, demon getting their ass kicked. He didn’t need to get involved with a blaster. Yet.

Instead, he scowled at his phone. “Stop calling it that.”

“You’re gonna tell me flanny Danny wasn’t a pitch-perfect stoner, huh? With the chill vibing and the dopey look?”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, bud.” 

The sound of a clacking keyboard that had underlined their conversation stopped. “But seriously, Danny, what the hell are you gonna do with this?”

“Uh, lie, probably,” Danny said, because it was very likely.

“Alright, smartass, what are you going to do when that lie backfires on you like literally every other one does?”

“That’s when I start gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing, babe.”

He had a hard time hearing Tucker’s distant groan of “Why am I still your friend?” on account of the sudden explosion. Danny checked again. Hm. Demon dude had a nasty fire thing going on.

Danny switched on his Fenton water gun—holy water included!-- and shot the demon in the face. They let out a cracking hiss of rage, but dropped the fire spell thing. He waited for them to stop looking around wildly for the culprit for a moment. 

He went back to the call. “‘Cause you loooove me, Tuck. From the bottom of your twice-dead heart.”

“Unfortunately,” Tucker deadpanned.

Danny just cackled. It was lost amongst the sound of supernatural bullshit below.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring out my plan A, honestly. Might bring in gray-man?”

“Amorpho’s an asshole, though. He’ll ruin the whole thing by taking the opportunity to shift into a JL member for a bit.”

Hm. True.

“Yeah, but he’s the main guy I know with that power set.”

“Ask after Desiree?” He could hear the immediate distaste in Tucker’s voice. “Ugh, pretend I didn’t say that. That’s worse than Amorpho.”

“It’s awful,” Danny agreed easily. 

Desiree was actually pretty alright nowadays, mostly on account of Danny remembering the last couple minutes of Aladdin and wishing she could refuse wishes she didn’t want to grant. That had made her happy enough to stop actively picking fights. 

Unfortunately, spending the entirety of one’s afterlife twisting the wording of wishes to their worst form made it hard to stop being an asshole. Who knew! So getting Desiree to split him in two for like a week had a 50/50 chance of fucking up his work relationship with the literal league of superheroes irrevocably. And this was his main cash flow right now.

So, no Desiree, no siree.

“Come up with something better then, asshole.”

Danny hummed and, since the heroes below were focused on the demon, lifted up a little and did a thoughtful back flip. What to do, what to do…?

Oh!

“My cousin!” he exclaimed.

“What cous—? Oh, Ellie.”

“Yeah, Ellie, Tuck. Which other cousins do I have?”

Tucker scoffed. “You literally have that whole Nightingale thing going on through your dad?”

Danny couldn’t help the face he made. The remaining Nightingales were worse than his parents somehow. “The Nightingales don’t count.”

“You can’t just say they don’t count.”

“I can say that, actually, and I will. They’re, like, cousins through my great-great-great-grandpa anyway.”

“Isn’t there a fight going on over there? Should you be shooting someone?”

 “Yeah, probably.”

He peaked down through the window once more. The heroes must have gotten the first demon to leave while he was talking, because the horned demon fighting them now was a truly unfortunate shade of yellow-green instead of purple. Or maybe it had transformed for some reason? They had it about as in-hand as the other one, though, so Danny definitely didn’t need to go down there. He shot the maybe-new demon in the face real quick.

“Anyway, Ellie can totally help out, she’s been practicing with changing up her looks. She’s also more, uh, malleable than me, what with her situation and all. Looking fully like Phantom shouldn’t be hard.”

Tucker hummed. “She’d try to embarrass you though.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” Danny spun in place. “I could bribe her?”

“With what? Her life doesn’t involve needing much cash.”

“She doesn’t get out to the Zone very much. Not many of the inhabited places, anyway. I can promise her the weird apple things Dora’s been growing with Sam’s help, she loved those.”

“If you think that’ll work…” Tucker trailed off dubiously.

Danny laughed. “She’s annoying sometimes, but she’s not gonna fuck over my job if I ask her not to. I’ll just bribe her extra hard for resisting the temptation to mock me.”

“Fair enough.” The clacking of keys resumed. “I’ve really gotta pay attention now, someone’s trying to stop me from getting into this database. Someone half-decent, actually, did they upgrade? Hm. Make sure no one died, yeah?”

“They’re alive. Bye, Tuck,” Danny said, and ended the call.

He shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket and made his way down the stairs. The fight outside he had been stationed for was basically over—Captain Marvel and Green Lantern (Danny was pretty sure he had accidentally learned the dude’s actual name at some point, but hell if he could remember)—had pulled out the magic restraints one of the other consultants had handed out.

That had probably been Constantine. Ugh. Constantine. Dude could stand to lighten up a little; skulking and smoking all the time wasn’t the base state of someone enjoyable to be around. Then again, Danny knew he annoyed the shit out of some of the league with his own attitude, so he maybe shouldn’t talk. But at least he was annoying with a smile!

Case in point: Danny grinned at the heroes. “Got it handled?”

“Suppose so,” said the Green Lantern, “though a little more help would have been nice.”

Captain Marvel was too busy getting in a minor tussle with the demon to say anything either way.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m like, pretty mortal,” Danny said. “I’m not fucking with demons right where they can hit me. And I did shoot him!”

Green Lantern rolled his eyes, but admitted the point. Danny cheerfully flipped him off anyway.

“I’ll be heading out, then, the hellmouth this guy crawled out of is like three miles away.” Captain Marvel said, hauling the handcuffed demon over his shoulders like a very angry backpack.

“Oh, one more for the road!” 

Danny hit the demon with a final water gun shot. Hissing and scrunching their face like a cat, the demon tried to lunge at him. It wasn’t very successful. Weirdly non-verbal for a demon, who usually had to talk to make deals and steal mortal souls, but Danny wouldn’t judge. Might be a minor demon. A really basic imp? Who knew.

“Stop being a little bitch and you won’t get spray-bottled, asshole,” Danny chided.

With a loud laugh, Captain Marvel sped away.

[batfamtv]

request: ethan breastfeeding 💏

ethan landry x reader

a/n: i wrote this while the tiktok audio “number 9: breastfeeding, number 12: cock” plays on repeat in my head

-

ethan has been your rock since you gave birth to your baby. however, what you dont know is that he’s been feeling horrible about himself. he feels like a terrible partner, and an even worse father.

why, just why, cant he stop himself from feeling all warm and fuzzy whenever he sees you breastfeeding your baby? he really shouldn’t be, right? but whenever you cradle your infant into your arms and guide them mouth into your nipple, ethan would just be sitting there quietly, hard as a rock. he never wanted to broach this topic to you, maybe ever, until one night.

“fuck, this really hurts,” he hears you moan beside him. he sits up to find you massaging your breasts (he hates how his cock automatically twitches at the sight), and moves to comfort you when he sees you crying, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“i already fed the baby,” you whine, pouting, “i also pumped, but i’m already so full and sore.”

his eyes land on your tits, hands flying out involuntarily to cup them, relishing your sighs of relief. they’re heavy in his hands, with milk. yours.

“momma,” he whispers, so quietly that you thought you just imagined it at first, “can i help?”

you raise your eyebrows, “you wanna help me, baby?” he nods frantically, now moving to rest his head on your lap.

he whines loudly when you pull your shirt up, revealing your breasts, now resting on his face. he moves one hand to softly rub the tent in his pants. ethan nuzzles closer, feeling the softness of your tits on his cheeks, “warm…” before sticking his tongue out and barely grazes it on your nipple.

ethan looks up at you, mouthing, “please?” with your nod, he closes his lips around one peaked nipple.

“fuck, ethan,” you groan, arching your breasts forward towards him. you raise one hand to gently grip his hair.

ethan pulls away a little, watching your face scrunched up in pleasure as he sloppily flicks his tongue in one nipple, before moving to the other one. then, he raises his hand on squeeze your breasts gently, and sucks.

surprised at the feeling of ethan simultaneously squeezing your breast and sucking, you feel the familiar warm and tingling sensation flowing to your breasts and you can barely react before ethan moans loudly.

a squirt of something warm and sweet lands on his tongue and he realizes it’s your milk.

“fuck, mommy,” he whines into your breasts, now suckling harder to get as much as he can before you push him away, “taste s’good,” he whimpers, his mouth quickly filling up with milk that some had dribbled down the sides of his mouth. he softly humps the air, wishing to be relieved of the aching tension of his cock, but he couldn’t get enough of you.

everything you have given him, either the juices of your cunt, or the milk that you use to sustain your child, they all taste like nectar to him.

he whines when you gently pull him away, looking up at you in a dazed, almost milk drunk expression that resembles that look your baby gives you when they’re also milk drunk and full.

“you emptied me,” you tell him with a giggle, before moving your thumb to wipe the dribbling milk off the sides of his mouth, “i got no more milk for you.”

ethan shifts so he is kneeling beside you, hands on the waistband of his pants, “i have some for you if you want.”

you laugh, before leaning in for a kiss.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Tear stained pillow case p2

Pairings- Drew Starkey x Fem!reader

Summary- It doesn’t take Drew long to realise he messed up.

Warnings- language

A/n- thank you to the anons who sent in what they wanted to see happen, apologies I couldn’t give you all what you wanted! There will be another part after this which will be longer 🖤 sorry this one is a bit short.

Part 1

Drew was struggling, he found it hard to get out of bed most mornings. He wasn’t putting his all into filming, the creators of outer banks had pulled him aside multiple times to try to figure out what was going on with him.

By the end of the month, everyone on set knew he was going through a break up. The boys tried to cheer him up, took him out to parties, and took him to theme parks. Took him anywhere that might get his mind off of you.

But nothing was working, he kept slipping further and further into himself. He knew he has messed up, the moment his lips touched Odessa he knew he fucked up.

He knew he had to suffer the consequences, he couldn’t expect to kiss a cast mate, then go back home and play happy couples, not when you were at home tearing yourself apart from all the hate online.

“Drew”

He was pulled from his thoughts, Austin standing in front of him with a cup of coffee. He hands the cup to Drew who gives him a sad excuse for a smile.

“You need to reach out to her man” Austin states, taking a seat next to his friend. Nobody was game enough to bring you up around him, but Austin was worried about Drew.

“She won’t answer my calls or texts”

“well, let’s go to her then. Go to her mums house and beg her to listen to you”

Drew shook his head, he couldn’t do that to you. He knew you’d hate it if he just showed up, especially when your sister was unwell and resting at home.

“Okay then, let Maddison invite her to dinner with the girls. We can get her alone and you can talk to her”.

Drew wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, it was still showing up unannounced. Something you hated deeply, but it might be the only way for you to listen to him.

He needed to express how sorry he was, beg for you to forgive him. Beg for you back, promise he will work on himself and be a better boyfriend.

He couldn’t throw away 4 years of memories with you, you are the love of his life. You are the one he pictures beside him at red carpets, eating breakfast in the morning, having kids with.

“Okay, let’s do that”

You weren’t going to meet up with the girls, they worked with Drew and you didn’t want to get between that, you considered them dear friends but you just wanted to cut everything out from your life that was associated with or reminded you of Drew.

Yes it was harsh but how was you expected to move on when you surround yourself with everything that reminded you of him. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even cut Drew from your life. Sure, his texts went answered and your phone was on silent most of the time.

You spent every waking moment thinking about him, looking him up online, checking if he was okay from his parents. It was unhealthy.

So that tiny voice in your head that told you it was a bad idea got pushed further into the back, you found yourself getting ready and hoping they would bring him up in discussion.

It was you, Maddison, Mariah and Carlacia. Madelyn was busy filming at the moment, you all had a glass of wine and was waiting on the food to be brought out.

No conversation of Drew which hadn’t bothered you, no one had brought up the break up. But they had given you individual hugs that were like they were saying I’m sorry about the news.

Conversation was flowing and it was turning out to be a really good night, it felt good getting out of the house. Good having a conversation that didn’t consist of your sick sister, the breakup and work.

It was fun hearing about their projects and how filming of season 3 had been going, you had to bite your tongue a few times to stop yourself asking how Drew was.

“Y/n”

You froze at the sound of Drew’s voice, you could tell it apart from anyone. Your eyes widened, meeting the gaze of Maddison in front of you. She gives you an apologetic smile, your body stiffens when his fingers brush over the tattoo on your shoulder.

“Please look at me”

You close your eyes briefly and pull yourself to stand, you couldn’t ignore him. There was an ache in your belly, you needed to see his face. “Hi drew”

“Hey” he breathes a sigh of relief. Tears build in his eyes when you finally turn around, the wind gets knocked out of him when you give him a soft smile. He wants to grab you by the jaw and kiss you, express his undying love to you.

“How are you?” He asks, he can’t help himself and pulls you into a hug. Your body melts under him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Your breathing in his scent, memories flooding your head. You can hear the thud of his heart against your ear, his arms feel like they are shaking.

“I’m… okay, you?”

“Been better”

Silence falls over the two of you, your eyes searching his. “What are you doing here?”

As he opens his mouth to speak, a group of girls come barging over. “Omg Drew”

“Hi girls, I’m just busy at the moment”

“Just one photo please?”

“Not right now”

Their eyes go to you, silently begging for you to tell him to take the photo. A sickness washes over you, if you didn’t do what they wanted, they would spread more hate on the internet.

“It’s fine, I was just leaving. Take the photo” you give them a polite smile.

“No no, I need to speak to you”

“Another time, girls”

They don’t give him time to speak again and they flutter around him. Shoving their phone into his face, you take this opportunity to grab your bag and jacket.

“I’m sorry…I have to go”.

You're rushing out of the restaurant before anyone can stop you, your shoes hitting the pavement faster than you thought was possible. The rain splashing up against your calves.

“Y/N!”

Reaching your car you fumble with your keys, his hand grasps yours. A sob escapes your lips as the rain falls around you both, you can feel his body against your back. “Please don’t leave”.

“I don’t know if I can talk to you Drew”

“Please… I need to apologise, I need to fight for us”

You turn and face him, water runs down your face. Your hair clinging to the sides of your face and neck. He can’t help himself and he grabs your cheek, staring down at you as he sorts out all the words flying around his head.

“Drew”

“I’m sorry okay, I shouldn’t have kissed Odessa… fuck I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, I was such a shit boyfriend towards the end”

You can’t find the words to respond, you don’t know if you want to hear this yet. You don’t know if you can forgive him, move on from the events.

“I don’t know Drew”

“Please y/n”

He’s pressing his lips to yours before you can say anything else, you let him slip his tongue inside for a moment before pushing him away roughly.

“Stop!”

Rubbing your hands over your face, the rain makes you feel uncomfortable. “You can’t just kiss me Drew!”

“I’m sorry…. Fuck! I’m sorry!”

You shake your head, turning back around to unlock your car. “I have to leave”

“Please don’t.. let’s talk”

“Not right now Drew, give me time”.

He lets you get inside the car, pressing the palm of his hand to the window. You can’t look back at him, you would cave. You’d hop out of the car and kiss him again, you’d forgive him without really overcoming the betrayal you felt.

You're driving away without another word, watching his figure disappear in the rear view mirror. Your body shakes as you sob, tears dripping down your face.

Part 3

🏷️- @vigilanteshitposting @drewstarkeysleftfoot @cameronmedia @pedrisgatorade @teresalesbian @users09 let me know if you’d like to join my Taglist

[jflemings]

— let the light in [p3]

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 1, part 2

synopsis: you finally let the light in

warnings: depression, talks of suicide, self sabotage if you squint, feelings of shame

as soon as casey gets in her car, jessie runs back into her flat and grabs her keys and phone. she’s got one shoe on and is halfway out the door when she stops herself and turns around, walking towards the shelf next to her couch. she fingers through the small maple leaf trinket tray until she finds the spare key she had forgotten to give back to you, gripping in tightly in her hand as she slips her other shoe on and walks out the door.

she parks her car on the curb and shields her face from the rain that had started on her drive over, cursing herself for wearing a pair of black canada football shorts when a particularly cold gust of wind flows through her.

jessie walks into your building shivering and clutching your spare key in her right hand. she can feel the teeth on the key digging into her palm as she steps into the elevator and presses the button to your floor. shockwaves of nerves hit her almost rhythmically and she has to wipe her sweaty palms on her jumper.

the elevator door opens and in steps shelley, the old woman pushing her glasses up her nose “jessie!” she exclaims before frowning “you coming to see y/n?”

the canadian half shrugs “hopefully”

shelley smiles and pats jessie’s shoulder “it’s good that you’re here” she says as the elevator moves again, stopping at your floor “she needs ya”

all she can do is swallow the lump in her throat and nod once, walking up to your door and knocking twice. she doesn’t get a response, like she knew she wouldn’t, so she knocks again. and again. and again just the way you hate it so hopefully you get out of bed and answer her.

the door cracks slightly and half of your face peers out “jessie you need to leave” you croak.

“no.” she argues much to your surprise “i talked to casey”

she hears you curse under your breath and places a hand on your door “y/n please” she manages to get out before you go to slam the door in her face. she quickly slots her foot in the door and presses harder “you don’t have to let me in, fuck, you don’t even have to talk to me but at least call and let her know you’re not dead” she says harshly, her eyebrows furrowing when you don’t say anything. “your boss was going to call the police to do a welfare check. casey sent me instead”

“i’m fine”

jessie pushes against the door harder, her foot still slotted between the doorframe and the threshold of you apartment "please" she pleads "all I want to do is help you. that's it"

tears well in your eyes at the thought of jessie seeing the state your apartment is in right now. you look behind you pathetically before shaking your head 'jess-"

"it's okay" she cuts you off quietly "you don't have to feel ashamed about it"

you wipe stray tears with the back of your hand "it's really bad" you mumble "I haven't, uhm, been taking very good care of myself"

the canadian pushes the door a little bit more seeing that you've begun to take your weight off it. her face softens "I'm not here to judge you or to make you feel bad for what you're going through. I just wanna help you get back on your feet"

biting your lip, you finally give in. you hang your head in shame as you let jessie slowly push your front door open and into your mess of an apartment. dread overwhelms you when she doesn’t say anything and just looks around, her eyes scanning each nook and cranny of your space before landing back on you.

you can’t — won’t — look her in the eye, choosing to instead pick at your cuticles as you continue to hold the door open. your grip on the handle tightens until your knuckles are white and you can feel more tears begin to stream down your face.

her hand cradles your face and she wipes her thumb under your eye “look at me” she coaxes, ducking her head ever so slightly “you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

you lip quivers as you nod and she removes her hand from your face, returning them to her sides. you push the door close and lean against it watching she jessie’s hands flex at her side. the two of you stand opposite eachother for a few moments before she reaches for you and you fall into her arms sobbing.

“i-i’m so sorry”

jessie’s hand runs up and down your back “i told you—”

“no i’m sorry for not telling you. i’m sorry for shutting you out” you cry as she places a hand on top of your head “i thought i was doing what was best for you”

jessie stays quiet as sobs wrack your body, tears begin to form in her own eyes at the thought of you putting her first when you were the one that needed help. she was angry, so angry, with herself for letting you do that. for letting you walk out of her apartment that day.

you grip the back of her jumper tightly “i wanted to push you away before… before you realised that i was too hard to love”

“never” jessie says confidently and sternly, pulling you out of her shoulder so she can look at you “never. you are never too hard to love”

“you haven’t seen the worst of it jessie. i don’t eat, i either sleep all day or not at all, my place is a fucking pigsty and i barely have the energy to shower!” you push her hands off frustratedly “does that sound like someone who’s easy to love”

“it sounds like someone who needs some love” she says softly.

you pause and the tension eases from your face. your fingers twitch where they’re holding jessie’s wrist and you look up at your ceiling, blinking away tears.

she takes your hands in her own “c’mon, i’ll run you a hot bath”

you let jessie lead you to your ensuite and cringe at the state of your room but she doesn’t even spare the mess a glance. instead she turns on the bath, finds you a clean towel and some clean clothes and urges you to get in. you get undressed slowly, suddenly feeling very exposed as she grabs the shampoo and conditioner out of your shower.

the water is steaming when you get in and you immediately relax at the comforting feeling. sighing, you duck your head under the water and resurface to find jessie sitting on the ground, one arm leaning on the bath. you turn the tap off once you’re sure the bath is full enough.

“do you want me to wash your hair?”

“yes please”

jessie gets you to turn around and lathers shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and dragging the remaining shampoo down to your ends. she then gets you to duck your hair back under the water as she sits up on her knees, looming over you so she can rinse it all out. next, the canadian grabs a comb from under your sink and applies a generous amount of conditioner to your hair, rubbing it in and beginning to gently detangle the knots.

for the most part the room is silent except for the sound the water makes when you move. you close your eyes and allow yourself to be enveloped in the feeling of jessie’s hands running through your hair once again “jess”

jessie hums from behind you, the comb still threading through your ends.

“you- uhm, you saved my life. when we met”

jessie stops momentarily to look over your shoulder at you “what do you mean?”

“i was only at the coffee shop because my machine broke that morning” you sigh, suddenly afraid that you shouldn’t be telling her this. “i had been giving away my stuff for weeks beforehand because i picked out a day to… to end my life”

the canadian stops combing through your hair and you hear the piece of plastic be placed onto the tiles. jessie tucks your wet hair behind your ear and slightly pushes your shoulders so you turn to face her. you cover yourself by bringing your knees to your chest as she leans on the edge of the bath again, urging you to continue.

“i had a note written and the things i had left were organised for when my apartment was going to be cleared out. i had planned to go back to home and take my own life, but then you invited me to sit down and we talked, and you said that you wanted to see me again.” you cock your head, your voice shaky as you continue “and i never told you, swore that i never would, because that’s a lot of responsibility to have, to be the reason that someone didn’t kill themselves and to be honest i don’t even know why i’m telling you this because it’s nothing you actually need to know an—”

“y/n” jessie cuts off your face paced, run-on rambling softly, putting her hand on your knee “breathe”

you take a few deep breaths “i’m sorry. that’s a lot”

“not for me” she whispers “it’s never a lot for me”

“please stop saying never” you whisper breathlessly “that’s a big thing to say”

“i don’t care” she tells you “i’m being honest with you. you have never been to hard to love, or too much. you are the easiest person to love, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you” she pauses to stroke your cheek “except help plan your funeral” she says sadly, swiping under your eyes again “please don’t make me do that for you.”

you nod and hold onto her hand that’s resting on your cheek “i won’t”

jessie places a firm kiss on your forehead and then stands “if you need me i’ll be right outside, okay? i’m gonna shut the door to give you some privacy but just call if you need anything”

“okay” you mumble as she smiles and shuts the door, leaving you to make ripples in the water.

as soon as jessie shuts the bathroom door she’s opening your curtains and stripping your bed. she pulls off the covers and pillow cases and then picks up all the clothes off your floor, stuffing them into the duvet cover before throwing it onto your stopped bed. she takes all the dirty dishes out to the kitchen, setting them down before looking under the sink for your cleaning supplies. retreating back to your bedroom, she makes quick work of wiping down all the surfaces and putting things back where she knows they belong. she sprays, wipes and dusts everything in her sight, not once slowing down.

part of her thinks she’s going so fast because she’s so angry at the world. she’s angry because you are the best person she’s ever met, the love of her life, and the world has let you feel as though you were nothing. the midfielder doesn’t let up her cleaning as she grabs all the rubbish that’s accumulated in your bin, throwing it in a plastic bag near by.

she takes the rubbish out to the kitchen and the duvet of dirty laundry into your small laundry closet before grabbing you some fresh sheets. she makes your bed and fluffs your pillows, only satisfied when it looks perfect. jessie vacuums every inch of floor in your room until she is satisfied, nodding her head once before moving out to the kitchen and living room.

she sets the vacuum aside and loads your dishwasher up, choosing to hand wash whatever dishes don’t fit. anything she can’t scrub clean gets chucked out and she reminds herself to take you shopping to replace it. she fills up another trash bag full of rubbish before she completely unloads your fridge and wipes it down so the lingering smell of off food wont hit you when you open it. when she realises just how much food she’s had to throw out, she pulls out her phone and opens her notes app to start a checklist of things she has to do.

☐ buy new plates

☐ go grocery shopping

☐ new bed sheets

satisfied with her list for the moment, she pockets her phone and moves to the pantry, turning to get retrieve her cleaning cloth when she sees you standing in the hallway. you’re dressed in her chelsea jumper from last season and a pair of black cotton shorts, your damp hair tucked behind your ears as you stare at her wide eyed.

“jessie”

the canadian shakes her head “i told you, i’m here to help. let me help”

“you don’t have to though” you attempt to reason with her, your eyes darting around your suddenly clean kitchen.

jessie rounds the kitchen island to you and grabs your elbow “i want to”

“thank you” you kiss her cheek “i’ll do the pantry”

jessie nods as you open the doors and grab a rubbish bag, cringing as you check the expiry dates on things before tossing them. she grabs the vacuum and does the kitchen floor before doing the rug in your living room, picking up things as she goes and putting them in her rightful place.

she can’t help but spare glances at you as she does. the sight of you clean and up and moving makes her smile slightly knowing that you haven’t been. your cheeks are tear stained and you sniffle every so often, but you continue to clean. you put away the dishes that aren’t in the dishwasher and you throw dirty kitchen towels aside to be washed, you spray and wipe down the benches before tossing another half full bag of rubbish on the pile that’s accumulating by the door.

jessie stops vacuuming in favour of dusting. she does the coffee table, the tv cabinet and the windowsill before moving over to your bookshelf. the trinkets that litter it get cleaned delicately, each and every one not getting put back onto the shelf until jessie is sure they’re free of dust.

she smiles at the things that she got you still being displayed. a picture of the two of you at christmas, a ceramic koala she got you during the world cup, a snow globe that she got from a gift shop in toronto, your polaroid camera and the photo you took of her when you first got it. little items that all played a part in your relationship, each one holding a little story that made up your big one.

the spare key she still hasn’t given back burns a hole in her pocket and she’s suddenly reminded of the fact that the two of you are in fact not together.

a frown flashes across her face before you walk over to her. you tilt your head and adjust the position of the koala slightly before grazing your fingers over the books on your shelf. jessie fishes out the key from her pocket and hands it to you “i forgot to give you this when—” she interrupts herself “before.”

you look between her and the key that she’s trying to give back to you. you pause for a moment before clasping her hand around it “keep it”

“i didn’t come here to try to pressure you into getting back with me” jessie tries to tell you.

“i know but i want you to keep it. it’s yours”

jessie’s heart flutters as she puts the key back in her pocket. you nod you head to the couch and sit down, patting the spot beside you wordlessly. jessie sits next to you and you lace your fingers together.

“it’s hard jess, loving someone with mental illness. it can be really draining” you explain softly “wherever we go from here, that’s up to you. i’m going to have bad days, and sometimes i’m going to get so far in my own head that i can’t pull myself back out” you squeeze her hand and your eyes soften the way they do when you look at jessie.

“i know” she tells you, wearing an identical look to yours “but i’m not fucking around. you are the easiest person to love, and i am more than willing to do it for the rest of my life”

“that’s not something to say lightly jess”

“i know. i’m just being honest” she shrugs slightly “please”

you purse your lips to suppress a smile “okay”

jessie’s face splits into a grin and she kisses your cheek quickly, watching you drown as you roll your eyes and grasp the side of her face. your thumb stokes her cheekbone as you kiss her softly and slowly. it reminds her of the first time you kissed, you saw how nervous she was when dropping you home after your third date and you rolled your eyes and leant over her centre console, grasping her cheek and pausing before letting your lips meet her own softly.

she had gone to bed giddy that night, the butterflies not subsiding even when she went to training the next day.

similarly to then, butterflies erupt in her stomach and flutter all through her insides. “i want you to tell me when you feel like this, even if you think you’ve got it handled. it doesn’t matter if you think it’s too much, all i ask is that you don’t bottle it up”

“i’m going to start seeing my therapist again”

“and that’s good, but i don’t want you walking around thinking you have to do it on your own because you don’t. you’ve never had to” she squeezes your hand and you squeeze hers back just as tight.

“okay” you nod “i promise”

jessie smiles and kisses you again.

“c’mon” you say before standing “the rubbish needs to be put out and then i need to find something that can be eaten for dinner”

“we’ll order in. thai sound good to you?”

your eyes soften “thai sounds great”

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess.

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 2

Azriel was seething, he felt like he could kill Rhysand for how he played him. How could he do this to him? He despised you, he hated you. He hated the fact that you never got to see the slaughter that happened in the war, he hated that you never had to get your hands dirty with someone’s blood. He hated that you were raised in a warm house with loving parents, that you would have dinner every night with your parents -the table filled with love and care. He didn’t know why he felt like that, he knew he should be glad that someone else didn’t go through what him and his family did, he should feel happy that a beautiful and sweet female like you wasn’t defiled by the horrors of this world. He could see how delicate you were, you reminded him of a rare and unique flower and even though he loved that, he felt the urge to rip this flower from the ground and destroy it. Was he a monster? He wondered. He was sure raised like one, but did they manage to turn him into one too?

Lost in these thoughts he reached the roof, he removed his shirt and didn’t even bother to wrap his hands as he approached the training dummy. He kept punching and kicking, hatred was pouring out of him like a wave, smashing into everything that stood on its way and drowning anyone who didn’t run away.

The dummy snapped in half and fell on the ground. Only then he stopped and stared, his breathing plummeting and tears escaping his eyes.

Was he so broken that he could hate a soft creature just because she was raised better than him?

“Ouch” Cassian cringed as he walked out “what did it do to you?”

“Fuck off” Azriel growled making Cassian chuckle.

“Do you want a real opponent?” The warlord asked and amusement filled his eyes, it had been a while since he had a good fight.

Azriel pounced on him and so they began.

Cassian had never seen him acting like that before, the shadowsinger was mad, his eyes wide and red, his hair a mess, his shadows frantically flowing around and the two siphons he had on each arm cracking from the power. Azriel had Cassian on the ground in less than five minutes.

“I hate her” -punch.

“I fucking hate her” -punch

“I fucking hate me.” -he didn’t punch this time, he just stared wide-eyed, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with every breath.

Cassian was speechless, he just stared at his brother with a worried and confused look.

“How on earth can I be mated with someone so weak and naive”

Cassian choked on air “she is your mate?”

“Yeah I felt the bond snap the moment she walked in…” Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Does she know?” The warlord stood up and stretched.

“I don’t think so, and I don’t care” he shrugged.

“But…why? I mean she seems like a sweet and caring female she could make you happy” Cassian was really confused, his brother needed love and affection so why was he denying his chance to get them.

“How can I be with someone like her? She will never be able to understand me and what I’ve been through. She is trained to wed a high fae not an Illyrian bastard. I will corrupt her, I will defile her.” Azriel couldn’t breathe as he realised what he said. Everything was entirely true.

“Az, please don’t think like that, you deserve to be happy. She deserves to be happy too and you can make her happy…” Cassian spoke with a sad look.

“No I can’t. Don’t speak about this again.” Azriel said and picked his shirt up, ready to leave.

“What are you planning to do?” His brother asked him.

“Make her hate me.” He responded and left.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You stayed in your room, when Mor came to ask you if you wanted to go out you told her that you couldn’t because you had to wait for Azriel to get you. She didn’t say anything and left with a curious look.

You didn’t know if Azriel was going to come, maybe he would avoid you and tell Rhysand that he showed you everything and you didn’t need to hang out together anymore.

Your hope didn’t last long as Azriel strolled in your room, his face was cold. He scanned your room and hummed. “Such a cute room for the princess” he scoffed.

“I didn’t choose it.” You whispered.

“Did I give you permission to talk?” He growled and you shook your head, you opened your mouth to say sorry but closed it again when he glared.

“Get dressed we are going out. I expect you to be at the balcony in five minutes” and with that he was gone.

You took a shaky breath and got up. You didn’t know what to wear, if you wore a dress he would scoff and be like “of course the princess is wearing a dress” so you picked a pair of pants and a shirt that looked way too big for you -At least this will cover my silhouette. You thought and got dressed. You felt kinda guilty for wearing pants, your mother would be so disappointed. But you needed to forget all the training you had and finally get a hold of your life. You needed to gain control of yourself in order to survive.

The pants were tight but the shirt reached your knees so you felt comfortable, with one last look on your reflection you hurried off not wanting to piss him more by being late.

The moment you walked out to the balcony and he saw you his eyes widened and his face became red. He looked feral.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He growled.

You stared at him waiting for permission to speak, he noticed. “Speak”

“I found those in my closet” you whispered.

“Why would my shirt be in your closet?”

You gaped at him, this shirt belonged to him? And then it hit you, the smell seemed so familiar when you wore the shirt… it was his smell. Stupid, how did you not notice this. You reprimanded yourself.

“I can go back and change” you offered and he just rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have all day, and I don’t care, you already ruined it. Keep it” he made a look of disgust and flared his wings.

“Let’s go” he said and opened his arms.

Your jaw dropped. You would fly to the city? Couldn’t he winnow you there? What if he dropped you? This would solve his problem.

He noticed your hesitation and huffed.

“I won’t drop you come on my patience is running low don’t make me grab you”

And with that you moved closer to him and let him gather you in his arm. His smell was so toxic yet addictive and you had to use way too much power to keep yourself from leaning further into him.

He glanced at you and took off. You didn’t scream, you didn’t feel fear. You kept staring at the city so mesmerised by the view. You felt free and a smile appeared on your face.

Azriel noticed this and furrowed his eyebrows.

“You’re not scared?” He asked.

“No, I like the feeling” you whispered, you weren’t sure if he heard you over the wind. The corners of his mouth twitched, a smile was trying to emerge but he quickly covered it with a frown. He looked at you, mischief flashing in his eyes and he dived. You were descending so fast that you could feel your intestines rearranging themselves but you didn’t scream, you didn’t know why but at that moment you trusted him. Even though he despised you… you trusted that he wouldn’t drop you and… you laughed. The ground was getting closer and you were laughing. You felt like you had gone mad. Azriel was probably thinking the same because his jaw dropped and confusion filled his features.

He manoeuvred both of you to the sky again and he stopped. You were floating over the city . You glanced at him and he was staring at your face.

“You really aren’t scared” he noted.

You nodded and he shook his head, the cold expression coming back as he landed. He dropped you and started walking. You grunted as your back made contact with the ground and your eyes filled with tears, you weren’t hurt just embarrassed as everyone stared at you.

“Come on I don’t have all day”

Requests are open!

My laptop has left the chat and probably this life so I’m posting this from my phone. So please excuse any mistakes I might not have noticed. Getting a new laptop on Monday 🥲

Also if anyone wants to be tagged on this series please comment so I can make a tag list on my phone.