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#but better late than never i guess. but there's still not much that can be done about it even now.
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Oh god.
This summer you sent our mutual friend a package, to get to me. An heirloom, a bit of camp history. Passed down to me.
And on that package, your phone number and address. Your phone number, that I had long deleted from my phone because the urge to call you was always too strong.
When I last saw you in person, you said that when you finally moved to the city it would be with your girlfriend. You would move in together. And surely, she would become your fiancee and then your wife.
There it is. On the package. Your new address, in the city.
I have to keep myself from calling you right now. You probably have my number blocked, and I truly don't know what I'd do if you answered. But I would give anything to hear your voice again.
Even if it's just you saying, "Hello? Who is this?" While her voice is in the background, asking you what you want for dinner.
At this point, I don't even need to be the voice in the background asking what you want for dinner.
I just wish I could be the voice on the other end of your phone call.
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One of my least favorite tropes is when a character says “I’ve never liked/always hated you” to a villainous character but they used to bully that character before they turned bad. And for some reason neither character brings this up during the scene.
#i’m mostly thinking of harvey bullock and ed nygma from gotham and the deep and a-train from the boys#harvey had the nerve to say ‘i never liked you even before you went crazy’ so you were just picking on him for no reason then???#and oh boy the deep/a-train scene don’t even get me STARTED (too late)#‘deep i’ve always hated your ass’ is not the serve you think it is a-train i’m sorry#but as lazy as that line is it’s still better than the godawful monologue the deep gives annie before their fight#like i don’t doubt the deep feels some resentment towards her for trying to ‘ruin him’ or whatever but they didn’t give him good dialogue#instead they just had chace crawford recite a bunch of buzzwords from twitter (‘you tried to CANCEL me but it didn’t work sweetheart’)#like…is that really what the deep would say in that moment? is that really HOW he would say it?#the deep/a-train confrontation was a missed opportunity too!!!#i wish when a-train said that the deep was like ‘yeah i know…? i figured when you were fucking mean to me for years for no reason’#it would’ve felt REAL and PERSONAL#and to see the deep’s mask slip?? he’s always sooo broey and friendly with ppl who clearly hate him#which i guess is a joke about how un-self aware he is but it’d be cool to see him say ‘i know we’re not really friends dude. i just act this#way bc i don’t know how else to be’ it would’ve made the deep more sinister AND more interesting in a few short lines#it would’ve added so much character to the deep gawdddd#get me in that writer’s room so i can save the deep from kripke
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viscerism · 1 year
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i've learned a lot of things by taking an anatomy class like how apparently your scapulae are supposed to lay flat against your ribcage and should not protrude from your back and also i've been living with a musculoskeletal condition that has been causing me severe pain and upper body weakness for as long as i can remember
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drgnflyteabox · 1 month
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can't get much better
pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k
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You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.
Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.
You have.
"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.
"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.
"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.
You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.
"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"
"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.
You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.
His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.
Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.
"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.
"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"
"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.
Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 
Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.
"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."
"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.
"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."
The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.
It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.
He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.
"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.
"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.
You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.
He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.
"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.
Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.
"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 
"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.
"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"
"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 
This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.
"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.
"Yes," but that's not what he wants.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, daddy."
"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.
He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.
The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.
He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.
It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.
"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.
"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.
A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.
You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.
The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.
He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.
He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.
"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."
You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.
"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.
Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 
There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.
Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.
"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."
The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.
Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.
"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”
It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.
"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.
"What's that, sweet girl?"
"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.
"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.
"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."
"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.
<3
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months
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About Time
Tyler Owens x Childhood Friend!Reader
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Summary: You’ve been Tyler’s best friend since childhood, but a near-death experience makes him realize he feels much more for you than friendship and he shouldn’t have allowed himself to deny it for so long. 
Warnings/Notes: cursing, mild angst, mostly fluff, typos
Words: 2300
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It was when he almost lost you that Tyler knew he was in love with you. When he was forced to play tug of war with the violent winds to keep you in his arms. When he felt your chest move against his with your shallow, rapid breaths. When he heard his name, a soft whimper from quivering lips. 
“T–Tyler…”
He tightened his grasp on your waist and mumbled, “I got you, darlin’. Just don't let go.”
At that moment, he didn't know if he could protect you, but the alternative was an unbearable thought. Living without you was unimaginable, unacceptable, so if the winds planned to take you, they would have no choice but to take him, too. Then at least you'd be going together. 
He’d always felt something for you, and he understood that he probably always would, but he'd been unwilling to give it a name more intense than a teenage crush that just happened to last well past its expiration date. And while your perpetually growing beauty and intoxicating laugh made it hard for him to tame what he continued to feel, he’d managed. 
But that fear of imminent death—more potent than ever—tapped into the depths of those feelings he’d been swallowing for more than a decade. The abuse of pelting rain and flying debris paled in comparison to the overwhelming storm breaking free from the neglected portion of his heart. 
Once disaster moved along, you looked up at him with wide, weary eyes, and he couldn’t think clearly past the repetitive chanting in his head: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, overpowering every other sense of logic and reason. He pushed strands of damp hair from your face, cupped your cheeks, then leaned down and sealed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. The first kiss. A kiss that typically has a much better outcome than what followed.
He hasn't seen you since that day. A week has come and gone and not one glimpse of your face, and now he’s more desperate for the sight than he’s ever been before. Missing you when you’re not around is far from new, but having released his feelings, the all-consuming sensation is worse. It’s harder to tolerate.
You're avoiding him, he knows it, but he supposes that can happen when someone kisses their best friend with no prior discussion of deeper feelings. It's not what he would do were the situation reversed—he'd still be all over you, kissing you back, smiling, never letting you go—but you've chosen to handle things quite differently, and in doing so, has left him no choice but to respond accordingly.
“Mornin’,” you hear, nearly dropping the pail of milk you’d been collecting all morning. Eyes darting to your right, you find Tyler sitting in one of the living room's quilted armchairs. Your heartbeat stutters. 
When you turn your head to the left, your mother is leaning against the kitchen countertop, her fluffy robe tied around her body and a cup of steaming coffee in her hands that she brings to her lips as she reads the newspaper splayed out beside her. 
“Mom, what is Tyler doing here?”
She glances up, swallows, and swipes her tongue across her bottom lip to catch the remnants of caramel-colored liquid. “Oh gosh, dear, he must've snuck in,” she replies, feigning ignorance. “But I’m not one for kickin’ anyone—especially not a fine, young man—off my property, so I guess he’ll just have to stay.”
With a huff, you set the pail down on the breakfast table, knowing your mother will take care of it, and shoot her a glare before making your way to the living room. Tyler stares up at you. You cross your arms and nudge your head toward the storage barn just behind the house where the two of you used to hold your late-night meetings when you were children, and later, teenagers. Many nights you spent in that barn after Tyler had snuck out of his parent’s house and chucked a pebble at your window to wake you. 
Tyler nods and follows you out the back door to the large structure that protects your privacy from the prying ears of the woman inside the house. 
“We gotta get you a new phone, darlin’,” Tyler says to your back once you're enclosed in the barn. “The one you've got doesn't seem to be receiving my calls…or texts…or elaborate voicemails.”
“Tyler…” you sigh, twisting to face him.
“You know we gotta talk about it,” he says. And he’s right, despite how the complicated element introduced into your relationship is entirely his fault and so you shouldn’t have to owe him the time of day until you're ready to give it. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”
“I didn’t run.” Tyler’s eyes follow the movement of your arms wrapping tighter around yourself and he swallows hard. “I walked.”
“Speed-walked,” he counters. “Borderline jogged.”
You groan, your tense shoulders sagging. “Tyler listen, I just–”
“Do you really think disappearing on me was a fair thing to do?” he interrupts. “I’m your best friend.”
Your jaw drops at the audacity. Not surprising, really; Tyler’s always had a way of wording things that gets under people’s skin, but out of the two of you, he is the last person who should be doling out the criticism. 
“Fair?” you huff. “You’re the one who–”
“I mean, what was so wrong with it?” Long fingers slide through his blond hair. “Can you honestly say you’ve never thought about me in that way? It hasn’t crossed your mind once? No sex dreams? Nothin’? ‘Cause I’ve been wrestlin’ with it since fuckin’ high school, but ok, sure, fine.”
“Ty–”
“And I know it was unexpected but was it really that shocking? Don’t you think we’d be good together? I think we’d–”
“For fuck’s sake, Tyler, will you let me talk!” you snap, your voice carrying throughout the barn.
If you were trying to preserve your privacy, you’ve definitely failed now. Half of town probably heard you and they’re nothing short of a mile away, but at this point, Tyler has pushed you well past caring. Let them hear. Let them know what’s going on between you. They all saw him kiss you anyway.
“We nearly died,” you continue. “People around us did die.”
Tyler’s face breaks down and you instantly regret your words. You know he stuck around after you left. You know he helped everyone he could in the aftermath of disaster while you let your emotions override your system and ran home to cry to your mother over how he just rocked what was your very steady relationship.
“Look,” you sigh. “Even if I wasn’t thinking about death—and that is a massive ‘if’—I told myself a long time ago that you are my friend, just my friend.”
Tyler’s hands settle on his hips. His eyes fall to the floor and his back teeth clench. “Why?”
“Because I repeated it so many times in my head that it solidified,” you tell him, throwing your arms up. “You know why Bradley dumped me last year? And Pete a couple years before that? And Bobby back in high school?” you ask. “Because of you. They all sensed this weird…energy…from you. All of them. Do you know how many times I had to tell them they were crazy? Do you know how many times I had to tell myself that I was crazy whenever they brought it up to me and I actually considered the possibility of you feeling that way?” 
You know exactly how many. Bobby had mentioned it five times before he decided he was done; broke it off with you right before prom and scoffed when he saw that Tyler had stepped up as your date. Pete was shorter-lived; asked you about Tyler three times before he said he could see which way the wind was blowing and had no interest in getting in between anything. And Bradley held the record at seven, each time making the fight outdo the one prior before he was simply fed up with the friendship you refused to sacrifice. Three boyfriends have ditched you solely because of Tyler, and fifteen times you had to talk yourself down from the jolt of excitement you got from imagining him loving you.    
Taking a deep breath, you say, “You don’t just get to kiss me and not let me sort out my thoughts for five damn seconds.”
Tyler’s head snaps up, jaw ticking and eyes blazing. “Five seconds?” he spits. “I haven’t seen you in a week. That’s the longest we’ve gone since I graduated.”
“This isn’t just about you; how you feel; what you think; what you want.”
“Then what are you tellin’ me?” Tyler asks.
The light quiver in his voice unnerves you. Not because you aren’t used to him expressing himself to the fullest—and if he’s ever going to be vulnerable with anyone, it’s with you—but that quiver is typically the trigger for you comforting him, taking him into your arms and holding him, letting him wrap himself around you until he feels better and is ready to stop. For some reason, you never noticed how long he would stay tied to you when you gave him the chance. 
“Are you feelin’ like this is it?” he continues. “Are you wantin’ us to be done?”
And suddenly, you’re irritated again. You can’t stop the roll of your eyes. In no universe would you ever be done with Tyler Owens, and the fact that he would entertain otherwise is asinine. “Don't be dramatic.”
“Well, what do you expect!” he shouts. “You’re actin’ like I’m about to lose you!”
“I didn’t say anything like that!”
“But you're mad that I kissed you!”
“Damn it, Tyler! I am not!”       
Green eyes widen, his breaths heavy from his heaving chest. His mouth opens then closes then opens once more. “You’re—” He licks his lips as you watch him grasp for words. “Then why haven't you called me back?”
You shrug. “I don't know. We've never fought before, and I thought you'd be pissed that I walked off, which clearly you are, so…”
“That’s not true,” he says, moving to take a step closer to you before thinking better of it and staying put. “I haven’t been pissed, darlin’, just terrified. And missing you. And…wanting you.” Heat flares your cheeks, forcing you to tear your eyes away from the desperation in his. “But I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to…I mean, you left and I thought…”
You shake your head. Whatever he let himself think, he was wrong.
The silence that settles over you is thicker than you're used to in his presence. You're used to laughter and jokes, sweet comments and banter. Tension zings in the space between your bodies, but it's pleasant, electrifying, invigorating. You feel the full impact of everything that was tucked underneath the stress and anxiety of barrelling through such a hard conversation. 
Tyler feels it too. His face shows it. His eyes you can only describe as heatedly glittering as he stares at you staring at him. His brows are pinched from frustration of a different kind. It's his lips, though, that reveal his thoughts better than any other feature. They're softly parted, glistening from a swipe of his tongue like he's ready to lock them to yours at any second. Like he needs to be ready just in case you give him the go-ahead so he can kiss you before you dare rescind your permission. 
“What are you thinking?” you ask, words quieter than you meant for them to be, but Tyler hears you.  
His chuckle is short, half-formed, partially overtaken by the exhale of a breath. You detect a slight tease, as if you should already know the answer to that question. 
“That I wanna kiss you again,” he says. “So fuckin’ bad.”
The corners of your mouth struggle not to quirk upward. “Tyler.” He hums. “You know what it means if we do this, right?”
He nods. “We can’t go back,” he says. “But darlin’, I don’t wanna go back. I wanna keep on goin’...with you.”
“Everything will be different.”
“Not everything. We're still us, we'd just be kissin’ and touchin’ and, you know, doin’ other stuff,” he replies with a smile. “Hopefully.”
You picture Tyler standing before you as you have secretly wished you could have him for years—bare and muscled and grinning and telling you he loves you—and for the first time, you aren’t awash with guilt and shame. It feels right to think of him like this. Natural. There’s a soothing ocean of serenity flowing under the flames of desire, and it hits you that this was probably inevitable. All the pieces were there—friendship, trust, love—all there was left to do was act on it. 
“You won't change your mind?” you ask, stepping to him. 
At your question, distress takes over Tyler's face, but it melts into a grin once he notices your smirk. He closes the remaining distance between you and takes your hand, carefully interlocking your fingers. 
“No chance,” he tells you. 
“Ok,” you say, nodding. “Well, if you’re absolutely sure, then I guess it’s ok if you kiss me agai–”
Your chuckle is muffled against his lips. His fingers untangle from yours and he guides your hand to rest on the back of his neck so he can cup your cheek. His free arm coils around your waist, pulling you in closer, and your body melts into his. Your brain fuzzes. You lose all awareness of your surroundings. You think you might just stay like this forever.
----
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mypoisonedvine · 2 months
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𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say
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Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.
"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.
"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"
"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."
"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.
You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.
It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.
He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?
That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.
“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”
“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”
“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”
Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…
At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.
At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."
By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.
"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.
"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.
"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.
For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.
He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.
"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.
"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.
But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...
And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 
Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.
“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”
“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.
“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”
“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.
“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”
He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  
“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.
"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.
Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.
He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.
“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”
“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.
He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?
The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  
What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  
He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.
He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.
Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…
He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.
Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.
His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.
This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.
He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.
He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.
You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.
“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.
“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”
“Ed,” you warned firmly.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”
“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.
“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”
“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.
“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”
“Kind of, as in…”
“Completely,” he blurted out.
You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.
But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.
You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.
“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.
“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.
He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.
“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.
“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”
You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 
As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”
You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 
Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?
You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—
“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”
“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.
Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”
“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?
“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”
“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”
“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”
You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”
“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.
“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 
“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?
“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.
“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”
But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.
“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”
He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.
“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.
“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.
“Fuck, that’s—”
He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.
“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”
You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”
Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.
“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.
You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.
“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”
As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.
He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”
You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.
“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.
“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”
“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.
“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  
“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”
You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.
“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”
He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”
The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.
“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.
“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.
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k3n-dyll · 3 months
Text
☆F.U.C.K
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Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine
Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back
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FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.
And yours of course.
Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.
It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.
The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.
"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.
"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.
"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.
"I lied."
Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.
"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.
"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."
In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.
In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.
"Figured it out, pretty girl?"
Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.
"You wanna see it?"
The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.
"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"
You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.
"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"
Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.
She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.
"Abby..."
"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"
Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.
"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.
Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.
"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"
The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.
"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"
The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.
Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.
"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.
"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.
Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.
"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.
"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"
The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.
Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.
"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.
"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.
Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.
"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"
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Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,
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clockwayswrites · 3 months
Text
So far this file is called 'birdritch'. Those of you who follow my art tumblr might know where this is going. I needed something light to write, been a low day. There has been zero editing or reading through and it is past 2am, sorry and enjoy! (Don't need any typos pointed out, ty.)
---
“You are supposed to be home.”
Danny blinked up from his work to find Lucius Fox standing in the doorway of the lab. The man had the sport of expression one wore around a child who had just done something disappointing.
(Danny was used to the look, even if it had been a long time since he'd been a kid. Or seen his parents, for that mater.)
“Okay, but,” Danny started, “we agreed that I could start at ten and take my eight hours and one for lunch—”
“A mandatory one hour for lunch away from your desk,” Lucius interrupted.
“Yes, yes, I’ve been doing that! I’ve been eating out on the rooftop garden or even leaving the building and eating out or taking lunch to the park. I’ve been behaving, Lucius, I promise.”
Lucius raised a judgmental brow. “It’s after eight, Danny.”
“What? No. I have an alarm on my phone and everything… okay, well, that only works if my phone is charged.” Danny jabbed uselessly at his phone screen. He followed the charger, which was plugged in, all the way to the wall. He resisted the urge to let his head fall against the wall. “I guess Leslie fried the outlet again or something. I’m sorry, Lucius.”
“It’s fine, Danny,” Lucius said, “but only because, one, I know you have been trying, and two, I am going to buy you the most embarrassing alarm clock I can find and mount it to something in this lab. Now it is late and I am going home and so are you, Mr. Fenton.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Fox,” Danny said and made an exaggerate show of packing up his backpack, dead phone and all.
Lucius gave a little snort at the antics, but left with a ‘get home safe, Danny’. After his boss was gone, Danny took the time to actually make sure everything was in his bag and secure. He still didn’t get why he couldn’t just work late, but apparently WE had something of an insistence of work life balance. According to Lucius, Danny crossed the line too often and so was being kept in line. (Danny didn’t think mention he didn’t have much of a life, literally and otherwise, would help his case.)
Still, Danny mused as he stepped inside the empty elevator, the rules did keep him from becoming his parents. And that was a very, very good thing! Being a mad scientist in Gotham usually ended up landing someone in Arkham. It was just that after the chaos that Danny grew up with, going back to his empty apartment was depressing. It wasn’t as if Danny never got out and did things, it was just that all those things were mostly on the weekend. Most days he just didn’t have a reason to go back to his place.
There was no getting out of it tonight, the great and powerful Fox had spoken and Danny knew better than to try and sneak back up. He lifted his hands over his head, stretching as the elevator descended the last few floors. Oh well, at least it was before ten. He could still grab something on the way home and have a full, warm meal to take his pain meds on. By the pull along his forearm he would need them.
“Night, Bill,” Danny said as he passed the security guard who was on the evening shift. He got another ‘get home safe’ in response and gave a little wave in reply over his shoulder.
Even after the few years in Gotham, it still amused Danny how much everyone wished everyone else some sort of safe travels here. As much as Gotham was a city of hardened realists, there still was so much hope about it. Hope people got home safely, that the Bats would get where they were need in time, that the city would rebuild again and again and again. The undercurrent of hope was so strong that Danny could practically feel it moving through the city like a river.
It had been one of the reasons Danny had taken the job.
He could use hope.
He also had been very careful not to look too closely into it all. While Danny’s early life may have been dominated by the occult, he tried to stay away from it these days outside of the necessary visits to the Realm for his health. As much as the Far Frozen was full of ghost yetis, Frostbite was still a being of science and being there felt more like a cold vacation to his weird relatives than anything else those days.
Danny was actually worried that he was getting close to needing another visit. He shouldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t actually due back for another three months, but the thought of visiting Frostbite had been pulling at the back of Danny’s mind. The most annoying part of it all, is that there wasn’t any concrete reason that Danny felt he needed to go, just a lot of little things: the ache was deeper in his bones, he’d been missing noticing little things, his near constant vertigo was worse, and, oddest of all, he had been feeling chilled.
Maybe he should just take a long weekend and go for a quick visit.
Lucius would undoubtedly approve of the break.
Tomorrow, Danny would ask tomorrow.
(As long as he remembered.)
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luveline · 5 days
Note
hi jade!!! i would love to see a poly!marauders fic where they help r fall asleep please! absolutely no pressure at all just a suggestion ofc <3
“Why so moody?”��
You rub at your eyes, standing just behind the sofa. You’d been frowning when James spotted you, not wanting to ask. “I can’t…”
“What?” Sirius asks. 
Remus perks up from beside him. 
Three sets of eyes makes it worse and somehow better. Sometimes it’s easier to only tell one of them when you have a problem, but sometimes you need all of them to know. “I can’t sleep again. Are you coming to bed soon?” 
And listen, four people in one bed is insane but occasionally you manage it. Most of the time you sleep with James, less often Remus. You and Sirius tend to be incompatible while you sleep, because he grabs you around the neck and face for hugging and you wake up with sweat pouring off of you, blind. 
Perhaps that’s why he offers first and emphatically. “I’ll come to bed with you, darling,” Sirius says, a picture of concern as he stands. “What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing’s wrong, I’ve just tossed and turned for half an hour and I can’t take much more of it.” 
“She’s going insane,” Remus comments with a severe frown. 
Sirius helps him onto his feet. James, never one to be left out, turns off the television and gathers his throw blanket. “Not on my watch.” 
“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to get up,” you say, wringing your hands behind your back. You hadn’t meant to summon them all to bed. You’d just wanted to know when you could expect an end to your agony. 
“Oh, well,” James begins, wrapping the throw blanket around your shoulders, “too late for that. Will you warm my side for me? I’ll lock up.” 
You feel shyer than you’d thought, shuffling back to the bedroom. Sirius’ hand finds your lower back as he enters the room from behind you, encouraging you gently to the side as he goes for the other. You’d left the sheets in disarray, the lamp on. James’ room is messy as always, but it’s your fault as you live from it most days. Remus is immediately put off by the overflowing dresser, closing each drawer with a shush over the runners. 
Sirius makes the bed, peeling back a corner for you. “Here, lovely. Climb in.” 
“I didn’t mean for you to wait on me,” you say shyly, embarrassed at their attention.
“There’s nothing I like doing more.” 
“He’s in a mood,” Remus says, though you’d guessed that already. “Enough room for me, too?” 
“‘Nough room for everyone,” you murmur, rounding Sirius to climb into bed as instructed. 
You and Remus end up in the middle of the bed, thankful for James’ sense of reality —everybody knew when you moved in together that the separate bedrooms wouldn’t last, but only James had the wherewithal to buy a very large bed. You’re immediately comforted by having one of them next to you, and Remus is very kind about it, asking in a murmur if he can cwtch you, wrapping his arm around your chest like you’re in danger of breaking from his touch. 
Sirius is less polite, but not less caring. If he thought you didn’t want him to touch you he certainly wouldn’t, but he knows he can hug you pretty much whenever he wants. He presses his nose to your face, Remus’ against your shoulder, the three of you deflating after a long day never quite this close to each other. You can feel a day’s worth of back ache leeching in your mattress. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. 
“Ooh, for what?” Sirius asks. 
“Making you come to bed.” 
“Didn’t make us do anything.” His breath warms your cheek as he talks. “It’s late. We would’ve been in bed soon.” 
It’s true enough. Everyone is in their pyjamas, Sirius smells like toothpaste. Still, you feel guilty for asking. And yet… you can finally relax now they’re here. It’s like they know exactly what’s been keeping you awake. Remus had cleaned and now holds your chest, Sirius reassures you and calms your stomach with his palm. 
James gets one good look at you all and rolls his eyes. “I asked you to do one thing for me. Jesus. Babe, could you move over?” he asks Remus, not giving him the time to comply before he’s in bed and smushing everyone even closer together. “This is fun. Sleepover!” 
“Just don’t start climbing on me again, Jamie,” Remus says. 
You close your eyes. “Don’t worry, they’ll chill out soon,” Sirius promises in a whisper. 
“Kiss?” you whisper back. 
Three different boys attempt to kiss you in the dimly lit bedroom. All the fuss doesn’t help you sleep, but knowing how much they care about you definitely does. 
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Text
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#the last bits of the sinus infection i had last week and this week end are still w me#im so fucking tired#and today be hard did NOT help#im just so sleepy but 1/it's not even 7pm 2/i have d&d from 7:30 to 9:30#this morning was ROUGH#bc our freight elevator is broken i had to reject some of our deliveries last week bc i cant bring up such heavy loads by hand#like it's 3 flight of stairs AND some walk to get to the restaurant#and bc we were closed for easter monday i knew i would get today both what we usually get monday and the tuesday deliveries#AND a redelivery from last week i knew that i was prepared#BUT the elevator was still broken so 1 of our vendors dropped the delivery at another close by restaurant and we had to find time to get it#another vendor still went downstairs and i had to carry the packages up the stairs w a colleague#the girl from another restaurant from the brand that was supposed to come at 7 arrived at 8:20#we can open if we're only 2 but... not when i have this much delivery lol so fuck me i guess#AND we learn we have 2 new employees coming today so we have to train them#which good !! we NEED new employees but lol today of all day#we're getting 80 more places on our outside area next week so we desperatly need new ppl#we wanted them before so they could be fully trained for when the new places arrive but well better late than never idk#so by 10:45 i had : 4 deliveries and only 2 that came via the same guy were delivered actually at the store 2 ppl from another location#that know the work but not the restaurant incl one who didnt speak french 2 new employees we had to shwo around and explain the basics#and i had to take my break at 11 or i would get to eat at all#this rant is a mess
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hoshigray · 3 months
Note
nanami x big ole freak for the people please 🙏
- megan anon
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: *smacks and slides hands together* yessirrrr! based on this ask + iconic song by queen Megan
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Nanami x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (f! + m! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - 69 + cowgirl + mating press positions - slight bondage; restriction of hands - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - clitoral play - orgasm denial - pet names ( baby, love, sweetheart) - reader lowhighkey a dom - implied fwb relationship.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
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“Yo! Nanami~n, wanna hang out with me and Shoko tonight?”
“No thanks; I have something to get to.” 
“Ehhh, something or someone?” Gojo looks over the shoulder to see his subordinate is on the phone and, by the looks of it, texting another person. “C’mon tell me, is it a guy, girl, a curse—who got the attention of the reserved Mister Nanami Kento?”
“Gojo,” the blonde man shuts his snow-haired superior down while stuffing his phone into his tan suit. “It’s my business; don’t meddle in.” He turns with the sole of his foot and walks away, the whine of the taller other not fazing him.
Gojo snickers to himself while watching his peer stride away. “Wonder who's the lucky one who got that guy to finally live a little…”
It’s known to those around him that Nanami liked to keep to himself, even in matters outside of his work. There’s no need to mix business with pleasure—especially in his line of occupation where there’s no guarantee on the good side of things or fulfilling false promises to people you care about. He’d much rather keep the two separate, going to Jujutsu Tech and taking care of missions in a timely methodology as a grade one sorcerer and wind down in the comfort of his leisure time or home before repeating the process the next day. 
However, tonight would be one of those rare nights where he’d go elsewhere to mellow down…at someone else’s request, such as the person who messaged him to meet at a hotel and the one behind the door he knocks on before it’s opened.
You enter his vision with a grin. “There you are; I almost thought you didn’t get my text.”
“I did,” Nanami took off his goggles and stuffed them in his pockets. “Did you wait long?”
“Too long,” your hands are placed on his chest and slide to his sunken cheeks to cup. “I guess it’s better late than never, but you know I don’t like wasting my time, especially since you’re the one who summoned me.”
He brings a hand to yours to kiss your palm, and chocolate brown eyes pair with a tiny smirk. “Is it too late to make up for my tardy?”
Your smile grows broader with hooded eyes, and your face inches closer to his. “That depends on how fast your fine ass can get inside the damn room,” you whisper before claiming his lips, a spark between you two ignited within milliseconds.
The fair-headed man wastes no time, leading you back inside the hotel room and closing the door with his foot. Hands are instantly roaming each other’s bodies, yours undoing his tie and discarding it with his blazer while he unbuttons your blouse to slide down your shoulders and meet the floor, same with your pencil skirt. With his lips still locked on yours, Nanami gently lies you by the edge of the bed, spreading your stocking legs for more access to hover above you. Lust has your smooches driven for a needier connection, tongues invading each other’s cavity, and your legs wrapping around him as he rocks his hips to your figure.
You’re the first to break the kiss, biting his bottom lip with a tease. He sighs, “Is that fast enough for you?”
He makes you titter. “So attentive, aren’t you? But you know I want more than these nice lips to play with.”
Oh, he knows. Trust and believe, he does. 
“Ahhshhh…! Damn…feel so good, love.”
He throws his head back to the pillow, savoring the sense of your tongue lapping around the crown of his erect cock. His pants were now off of him, you mounted atop him, your ass facing his way while his groin was arranged before your face. 
His view was downright taken over with the sight of your butt and lacy panties swaying from side to side, all the while you were kissing and sucking on the skin of his dick. Your hands move to please him, one stroking his shaft in your grasp while the other fondles his balls with your pretty fingertips.
You suck on his cockhead and release with a soft ‘pop,’ his groan sweet to your eardrums. “Gosh, baby, you sound so pent up,” more licks to his glans jerk his hips, even when the kneads to his scrotum become firmer for the hand on your waist to get tighter. “Loosen up for me; I’ve been craving you like crazy all week...”
“Hnnmm, I can say the same for you, sweetheart,”eyes fixate on your underwear as he slides them to reveal your bare cunt. Seeing a trail of your excitement stick and glisten is no shock. “You seem to be tense yourself,” he brings a forefinger to your labia to lube with your excess fluid, and you hum with a bitten lip as he inserts the digit inside you to wiggle and scrape around. “Feel like it, too.”
“Hooooh,” You don’t hold back a moan—no need when indulging with this man. “Ahhh shit, yess, right there…”
“Yeah? You like this, baby?” He curls the finger with every pull before the push; your wails are too cute not to push for more. “Feels good?”
“Nnmmm…you know what would feel even better?” You peer over your shoulder, your orbs meeting mocha ones as you nudge him with the hit of your toes. “Shutting up and using that handsome face of yours.” Your batted, innocent eyes don’t match the vulgar display of your hips in front of Nanami. Yet he doesn’t scold you, just accepting you with a chuckle while pulling you in. A shiver dances up your spine at the contact of his wet muscle on your chasm, stirs to your clit, and nestling between your folds powers the desire. 
“Ohhh, yesss, just like that, Ken,” you praise before hallow cheeks take in his dick back into your mouth. Muffled sounds of contentment are felt on his cock, and it only pushes him to ravage your sensitive area even more.
However, this is nothing compared to the real deal moments later. 
Nanami knows how much you love to be in control—he’s been with you enough to understand that you’re serious when you need your fix. So, he has no room to refute you when you tie his hands above his head with his necktie and straddle above his lying frame. Yet again, no complaints came from the blonde man. After all, he is the one who has you here in the first place.
He lays on the bed, moaning below as you bounce up and down on his pelvis. For the second time that night, you were riding him down to the point, shrilling euphorically as your hips did the work for your satisfaction. You’re in complete control of the scene: the pace, the speed, the angle, the entire show. 
You lean forward, and the angle and motion of your lower region frequent the presses of your clitoris. “Fuuuhick, ohhhshiiit…!”
Neat golden hair is now untidy; strands cover and stick to his forehead. But that doesn’t obstruct the erotic view of you plunging his length into your aching slit, which has him swallowing thickly with a heated face. “Hnngh! Shit, so tight...”
“Haaaah, ahahaaa, feelin’ good, Kento?” You tease, leaning backward to clamp onto his girth. His dick rubs on the upper wall of your vagina and brushes to your G-spot resulting in your howling. “—Ooohhh, my God, yessss!” There’s no way you wouldn’t be clenching on him like crazy like this!
Makeshift bondage be damned, the man can’t help but buck his pelvis with your movements; the snug of your walls around him are difficult to resist and fuel him to chase the orgasm he’s been wanting all this time, and he can only thank for the condom that shields you from each other’s bare touch—or else his patience would’ve worn thin the round before. 
It’s borderline torture to watch you finger your clit and milk him with his hands bound; he wishes to touch you so badly. And you can see right through him, tittering as you come to a stop and remove yourself from him. He groans at the cold feeling of the air, substituting your warmth. However, that’s changed when you bend to untie his hands and get off his legs.
“C’mon, Kento,” you wet your lips, lying on your back and pulling your legs up. Knees to your chest and your wet cunt instigating an invitation. “Your turn to take care of me.”
God, you were intoxicating, your words making him hot in that dress shirt of his. That’s why he sighs with a scoff as he unbuttons to let his chest and abdomen breathe, aligning his length to join you again.
“I’ll do just that, love.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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enhaheeseung · 4 months
Text
SLEEP 🕒 - L. Heeseung
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🕒Pairing: Heeseung X fem reader!
🕒Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, cursing.
🕒Synopsis: it’s late, and you can’t sleep, but luckily, your best friend knows just the trick to help you out.
🕒Wc: 1,5k (Drabble)
-
Sighing to yourself, you set your phone down on the lamp stand after you noticed it was literally three in the morning.
You and your best friend had been watching movies talking and hanging out since ten and you hadn’t even noticed the time till now.
“You sleepy?” He turned to you just in time to catch you rubbing your strained eyes.
“Yes, it’s like three am, hee,” you groggily reply, turning on your left side facing away from him.
“Oh shit, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he chuckled. You could tell he was just as tired by how deep his voice had gotten.
“It's alright.” He set his phone aside as well and leaned up against the headboard.
“I guess I better get going.” On cue, he lets out a yawn.
“Are you crazy? It’s so late out you might as well just spend the night” you mumble out.
He rubbed his chin in thought; he was really tired, and driving probably wasn’t the best idea right now. “I didn’t bring anything for a sleepover.”
“Just wear whatever,” you respond, on the verge of passing out.
You feel a dip in the bed and hear him shuffling around. He takes off his pants and his flannel before he slips under the covers with you.
For most, it’d probably seem weird, a guy and a girl sleeping in the same bed, but the number of times you both knocked out together while studying during your high school and college days made this one of the most normal things between you two. “Goodnight, y/n. I might be gone before you wake up.”
“Just make sure to lock the door in the morning night, hee,” you whispered, turning off your lamp while he did the same after you.
You readjusted to get comfortable and pressed your cheek against your pillow, waiting for sleep to come over you.
Ten minutes passed, and sleep never came. You were tired, but for some reason, you just couldn’t fall asleep.
“Ugh,” you groaned and quickly cupped your mouth so you wouldn’t wake heeseung up with the racket.
Little did you know he was still wide awake.
“Y/n?” He asks, followed by a beat of silence. “You’re still up too?” He says with a hint of amusement in his tone. At least he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping.
“Yes,” you laid flat on your back, copying his resting position. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m tired, but I just can’t seem to sleep,” you respond in the pitch-black bedroom.
“Same,” he sighs, folding his arms over his chest.
You both lay there in silence for a few minutes until he says something that completely catches you off guard.
“I read that having an orgasm can help you fall asleep,” he says casually.
You giggle and push his shoulder, or at least you think it was his shoulder. It was so dark you really couldn’t see. “And where did you read that?”
“The internet, of course, says it has something to do with the release of oxytocin or some shit” he lets out an airy laugh putting his hands behind his head.
“Interesting,” you hum.
“It is, works like a charm for me,” he says through a yawn.
“TMI”
“Oh please, we’ve talked about so much shit that this is PG,” he scoffs.
“Yeah, but not you touching yourself.” You cringe as the words leave your mouth.
“I didn’t say anything like that. All I said was it works,” he shrugs even though you can’t see him.
“Whatever,” you say, too tired to argue with him.
It’s silent again, and the idea he mentioned sounds a lot more appealing than laying here all night without getting any sleep.
But you can’t necessarily try out this little theory of his with him in your room, so that idea was out the window.
“You still up?” He checks on you a minute later, and you hum in response. “I mean, I could give you one if you want,” he holds in his laugh, knowing that you’re about to chastise him.
“Lee heeseung, stop it this instant,” you tell him sternly.
“Okay, okay, just thought I’d ask. I’m your bestie, and besties look out for each other, right?” He continues to push your little buttons.
“Yeah, by giving a shoulder to cry on, not giving each other orgasms,” you huff out a breath.
A thought popped into your head: you weren’t getting any sleep anytime soon, and since he wanted to mess with you, two could play that game. “I mean, you could,” the words leave your mouth in a nonchalant manner.
He gasped, not expecting you to match his humor. Most times, you didn’t when it came to something sexual. “Knock it off. It’s weird when you joke about it,” he laughs.
“Who said I’m joking?” You taunt.
“Cause the y/n I know would never,” he says confidently, thinking he knows you like the back of his hand, and normally he does, but just not when you’re sleep-deprived.
“What about the y/n who’s in desperate need of sleep and will do anything just to catch a few hours before work in the morning?”
His ears are perked up now, the soft, sultry tone of your voice alerting him instantly. “You’re really not joking, are you?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?” You shift closer to him, and he feels your body heat right away, making his heart beat faster in his chest.
“I-I y/n, if you’re joking, just tell me.” his voice shakes a little, the slightest hint of a whimper traveling close behind his words.
Calling it quits with talking, you find his hand in the dark and grip his wrist, guiding him right between your legs. “Hee, I’d never joke about this,” you gasped as his warm hand cups over your mound.
“Fuck” he whispers and props himself on his side, slowly gliding his hand between your legs. “You really are serious, huh?” His voice sounds even huskier than it did before as he confidently presses your clit over your sleep shorts.
“Yes, hee,” you whine, desperation dripping from your voice as you clench your thighs around his hand, keeping it firmly nestled against you.
“Shit, okay, turn over for me” You get back in your original position, your back now pressed against his chest, his crotch a few inches away from your backside. “Now close your eyes.” his hot breath tickles your ear.
You do as he says, too tired to even think twice about what you’re getting ready to engage in with your best friend.
His two middle fingers rub circles on your clit, working you up quicker than you could have ever imagined. You’re already leaking a bit of precum.
“Mmm,” you moan softly. His fingers felt so good, especially when he slipped them further down, teasing your entrance while his palm rubbed your clit.
Your hand caressed the one that was between your legs, tracing the veins along the back of his hand. “Does that feel good?” He swallowed thickly, his lower body pressing against you unintentionally.
“Yes, hee, so good” he humps your backside, his swollen cock being stimulated by the softness of your plush bottom.
“Yeah, so good,” he whispers in your ear. You feel so good you don’t even notice the way he ruts against you, the movement of his hips forcing your waist to roll against his palm more, bringing you even more satisfaction.
“I’m so close, hee, I’m gonna cum” you cry out, body shuddering as the warmth and pleasure builds in your lower region.
“Shhh, I know, I know,” he breathes out heavily, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and a few more rolls of his hips. You’re both coming undone together, panting exhaustedly.
He rubs you through it, whispering encouraging words in your ear like. “Yeah, feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Let it all out,” “Keep cumming” “That’s it.”
The pleasure goes on for so long that another orgasm follows after giving you the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced. “Hee,” you whimper his name, your body trembling against his as you shudder in the aftermath of cumming back to back.
He nuzzles against you, cuddling you and helping you ground yourself until you catch your breath.
He’s still struggling to calm himself with how hard he just came. He hasn’t cum that fast and that much in a while. “Was that good?” He asked timidly into your hair, releasing a deep breath.
“Mmm,” you moan in response, your eyelids finally feeling so heavy that you can barely open them.
But you couldn’t forget about heeseung, so you flipped over on your side, your forehead touching his. “What about you?” You slowly reach into his boxers, gripping the base of his length, feeling a good amount of wetness covering his shaft.
“Ahh, s-sensitive,” he moans shakily.
You retract your hand right away. “Did you-“ he cuts you off, nodding against your forehead, and you slowly pull your hand out of his underwear.
“I’m good,” he assures you. “Let’s sleep now yeah? We’ll clean up in the morning” his words sound slurred and you can barely even understand what he’s saying cause you’re so tired.
Apparently, whatever he read about orgasms was true cause you’ve never fallen asleep faster.
-
Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️
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lemonlover1110 · 5 months
Text
𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
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Satoru Gojo
Summary: Satoru struggles with his two babies.
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
*I used the two babies from baby steps for this, but you don't have to read to enjoy the fluffy oneshot🥹
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“C’mon, Seiji. Vegetables are so good. yummy.” Satoru is trying to bribe his almost-two-year-old into eating the rest of his food, alas, he doesn’t sound too convincing. He tasted the vegetables, they aren’t too good but you cooked them so he isn’t going to bash them. Seiji really doesn’t care about not hurting anybody’s feelings at this stage of his life, so even though his dearest mother made them, he refuses to eat them.
Satoru sighs defeatedly, putting the fork down. He guesses Seiji doesn’t have to eat vegetables every day to grow strong. He picks Seiji up from the high chair, putting him down on the ground to allow him to walk around and do whatever he likes to do. Lately Seiji loves to play with any piece of trash he finds, making Satoru realize that he’s wasted thousands of dollars on toys.
“Don’t be too loud! Don’t wake your sister up.” Satoru yells, knowing that Seiji really doesn’t care about that. The baby only has one thought in his mind and that’s to play with whatever he gets his hands on. 
Satoru really thought that handling two babies under two would be a breeze, he’s the strongest, he can accomplish just about anything… But his two kids tire him out. Saori cries so much that he anticipates in horror the moment that she wakes up. Seiji never stops moving, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stand still for a moment. He loves his babies more than anything, but he’s rightfully tired.
Satoru is being the best husband that he can be by taking care of his babies while you study and finish up your degree. But two tiny humans are slowly ending his life. Satoru follows Seiji around, deciding to just let him wander around the house because Seiji hates to be put in his playpen lately.
“Dada.” Seiji points up when he gets to the stairs, looking back at his father. Satoru shakes his head, picking up Seiji and taking him back to the living room so he can find something there that he can engross himself with. Seiji makes sure to let out a dramatic cry because he hates being carried and contradicted. He doesn’t want to go to the living room, he wants to go upstairs.
“Crying isn’t going to do anything, baby. You’re staying down here.” Satoru says as he carries Seiji away. Seiji makes sure to yell,
“Down! Down!” Which actually works on Satoru today because he doesn’t want Seiji to wake up the sleeping baby. When his tiny feet hit the ground, Seiji begins to run around which isn’t really an issue for Satoru since he only has to take two steps to catch up to Seiji.
It’s boring, really, but he prefers walking after his toddler better than trying to entertain both babies while they’re awake. Seiji doesn’t care for his parents' attention until Saori is awake; when she’s awake he wants to become the center of attention.
Satoru really thinks he’s safe, until he hears her cries from upstairs, and the loudest sigh leaves his lips. He picks Seiji up, making him kick his feet and cry, demanding that he’s put down. Luckily for him, his father listens to his wishes and puts him down. Unluckily for him, he’s put down in the playpen that lately feels like a prison. 
“No! Out!” Seiji demands, but Satoru doesn’t listen. He leaves Seiji there while he goes upstairs to pick up Saori from her crib.
When he gets there, he notices his baby girl is sitting up, waiting for him to finally pick her up. He coos, approaching the crib and picking her up, “Hi my sunshine. Did you sleep well?”
She doesn’t stop crying so easily though. He changes her diaper, and the crying gets worse. He tickles her tummy, laughing to himself, “Aren’t you a hungry girl? You ate one hour ago too.”
He guesses he can’t blame her, a bottle of milk wouldn’t be enough to hold him over either… But he guesses he’s four times her size and two decades older than her. He exits the room, getting more irritated by the second with the crying baby that’s in his arms. 
He begins to walk down the stairs, and that’s when he sees a little rascal holding to the railing and trying to walk upstairs. His eyes widen, his first thought being: how the hell did Seiji escape his playpen? Seiji finally looks up, seeing his father at the top of the stairs. He lets go of the railing, his hands going over his tiny mouth, his signature move for when he gets caught.
Satoru watches it happen in slow motion. Seiji’s tiny feet on the edge of the stair, he tips over and falls back from the stairs until he’s back on the first floor again. At least Seiji was only on the third stair up so it wasn’t a long fall– However, he cries his heart out as if he was at the very top.
“Seiji, how the hell did you even get out of the playpen?” Satoru is reasonably angry because he has two crying kids to soothe on his own. He doesn’t want to bother you while you study so it’s his problem, and only his. He doesn’t know which problem to tend to first. 
Satoru just knows one thing, and he hates thinking about it, but he wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if he had used a condom.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months
Note
Can I get a sourdough bread and martini with Lando Norris 😻💞
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? the bakery is open!! please feel free to check out the options! i do more than just formula one so hit me with it! thank you for this request, this was right after another lando mafia au, haha. i'm glad that people can see the vision of mafia!lando, but this is with a nice little breeding kink! thank you! thank you!
sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + martini (mafia au) served by lando norris (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, mafia!au, mafia!lando, breeding kink, husband/wife, missionary, pregnancy
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you could see your husband's gaze from across the table. it was saturday night and while most were out partying. the two of you were at home, enjoying each other's company.
lando was going to be out of the country for a week and you were to stay at home. he hated leaving you, but sadly you were just too precious to be around such a dangerous situation.
"they'd scoop you right up and if they hurt you, love. there is no hell or heaven that could stop me from getting you back." he said earlier in the meal.
lando norris was the darling son of the mclaren family, while there was still much to learn before he could be the head of the family, he knew whatever may come could be dealt with as long as you were by his side. his darling wife.
he could never get enough of you. loving you was a devouring feeling, something he needed to sink his teeth into. and lately he had a new itch to scratch.
a few weeks back, while at a small get together of the family. lando saw just how good you were with kids. you had a baby cousin on your hip as you got something to eat. it all came naturally and lando almost had to bite his fist.
"do you want this?" you asked the small child at your hip, "let's ask your mama to see if you can have m&m's." you giggled within lando's earshot.
lando sighed through his teeth, this new monster in him was starting to show its ugly head. he earned a pat on the back from oscar who didn't know exactly what lando's deal was. but could only be a supportive 'brother'.
"you gonna be alright?"
"oh yeah." lando said as he shifted in his seat, "perfectly fine." he wasn't making eye contact with oscar, rather watching you talk to the mother of the child you were holding. you were smiling with the child at your hip.
now over dinner, lando was still thinking about it. he got a good eye of your cleavage across the dinner table in the blouse you were wearing that was just a little open to give him a good view.
he swallowed, "you look beautiful." he said, "what's the occasion?"
you looked down at your plate for a moment, "well. we've been married for two years. and well, i've been thinking."
lando stilled for a moment, "it's not a divorce right?" he knew that the risk of the lifestyle he lived could push you away.
you chuckled, "no, no. i made a promise to love you till i die. you're not getting rid of me that easily." you put your fork down, "i want to have a baby with you... i guess in a hotter way of saying it. i want you to breed me, lando norris."
he almost choked on his food, those blue eyes went wide as he swallowed what was in his mouth, "i mean... hell yeah, i will." he flashed you a smile.
you giggled at the sight of him, his reaction made something curl in your gut. despite it all, all the tattoos and scars. the fancy suits and quick thinking, he was still the lovable man you married. you said, "then i guess we'll skip dessert tonight."
being in love with the future of the mclaren family was interesting. you had heard stories about him and his 'brother' oscar, raised together to be the best of the best. the family was better to be headed by two rather than one.
but lando was your precious husband, even without the parade of mafia ties. you remembered when he gave you his umbrella on your first date and let himself get soaked. or when he figured out to make that specific pasta he threw together one night for you. he smelt warm and of home and you never met a man like him.
that was why it was so easy to strip for him in the low light of your shared bedroom. he was seated at the edge of the bed in his briefs as he watched you get out of your clothes. slowly the buttons of the blouse were undone, his eyes grazed the beautiful sight of you.
lando didn't believe in a heaven, but if he did it would be located between your breasts.
you eventually got out of your panties and finally your bra before you got into your husband's lap. your took his face in your hands and kissed at the side of his jaw.
he groaned under your touch, your soft hands on his skin were like worship as you kissed him. he felt so comfortable in your touch, he yearned for it when you were apart.
he loved you.
you straddled his waist and he wrapped his arms around your waist. the tattooed skin was a contrast against your bare skin. the most noticeable tattoo were your initials on the side of thumb on his left hand. when he was stressed he'd rub over the ink and be comforted by thoughts of you.
he kissed you on the lips and the kiss quickly deepened before he laid back on the bed, taking you with him. he continued to kiss you as he rolled you onto your back.
he wanted to look at you while he fucked you. his kisses and fingers trailed down your chest. he cupped your breasts and licked across your nipples. you moaned and felt the heat throb through your body. you looked at your husband and moaned a little bit.
he left a few small red marks across your chest before he got his briefs off. he said softly, "i'm going to breed you. just as you asked. give you that little norris baby you want." he groaned a little as he lined his cock up with your slit. he kissed his tip against your pussy lips.
"you make it sound hotter than i tried to." you chuckled softly and let out a sweet moan as he slowly sank his cock into you. he shuddered at the feeling and you got your arms around his strong neck.
"well, i can't deny my wife anything. if she wants a baby then she'll get it." lando groaned as he really pushed into you. his thrusts were firm, but not rough. he was trying to fuck the daylights out of you.
he wanted to admire his beautiful wife, he held you by the waist and kissed at your chest. his heart thumped in his ears as he moved against you. he started to kiss at your chest once more, he couldn't wait to see your pretty tits get bigger with pregnancy.
"you're gonna give me a pretty kid." he chuckled as he softly bit on your nipple, the feeling made you moan loudly. he groaned, "gonna be a proud mama of my brats." he pushed further into you. he crowded your space as he played with your nipple against his tongue.
you felt the throb of heat in your core. the idea of having a child with lando was erotic. it scratched an itch in the back of your brain. your big stronger protective hubby and you having a kid together.
you didn't want to admit but that idea of your heavily tattooed husband holding your chubby little baby so gently in his arms. it was so adorable that it made you feel heat all over.
"get me pregnant, lando. please, i want to have your baby."
"yeah, you want me to breed you. what a naughty thing to say." he chuckled as he moved against you, "make sure every last drop stays in your pretty pussy. that's where it's meant to be, right? inside of my pretty wife." he groaned.
"yes.' you panted, "fuck, i want you, my love."
"don't worry, ya got me forever, love. i'm not going anywhere. especially now that you want to have a family with me. gotta be there for me girl, and my kid." he chuckled as he moved against you.
the two of you kissed once more. you held onto his shoulders as his lips pressed yours. he still tasted like wine and the pasta you had for dinner. you moaned into his kiss as you felt his grasp on your hips.
"lucky to have you." he said softly, "lucky for all of my life."
he had everything when he was with you. you were everything and more to him. the wife he came home to, the lover he pleased and the girl he continued to fall in love with.
he was such a dangerous man, but with you. he was just so perfect. he loved you with such a devotion that he knew no other woman could take his heart.
he may be the head of a mafia family, but the little norris trio you'd eventually have would be headed by you. his equal, his lover. those who thought the term 'wife' meant less than could kiss the bottom of lando's steel-toed boots.
"i love you, lando. i'm lucky to have you as my husband." you panted.
"not as much as i am lucky to have you as my wife. i never knew that it was possible for a woman to be so beautiful but also make me laugh so much. you're everything i wanted." he purred as he continued to move. his lips on yours once more.
the kiss was sloppy and hot, you felt the thrill of excitement race through you as he moved against you.
you knew you were close, the feel of orgasm felt so strong in your body. you panted when you broke the kiss, but he pulled you in for another. you could feel his warmth around you.
"my girl."
"my lando." you purred. the pleasure was too much, it drove you to finishing.
you clutched onto him and clenched your legs around him. you gave him a wet kiss on his cheek. you climaxed with a loud moan, you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed.
it only spurred him to fuck you even faster. he felt a thrill in his body as he pushed in and out of you. his brain short wired when he gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you. he didn't pray often, but he prayed to whoever out there that you'd get pregnant.
if not, you two had a lot of time to have all the fun you needed in making a baby.
"i love you." he said as he laid on top of your for a moment, the weight of him felt good. it was a comforting bulk. you kissed his face softly as he panted on top of you. his cock was softening inside of you, but he wanted more.
"i love you too." your words only made him want you more.
he wanted to feel his wife all over again. make sure that his cum stuck to the inside of you. he wanted to make sure you had his babies asap. he get a small thrust and you once against wrapped your legs around him.
"someone likes that.' he said as he pulled away, he braced his arms on either side of you. he chuckled, "how about i clear my schedule for tomorrow, so we can have all of tonight to ourselves."
you were inclined to accept his offer.
-
you crossed your arms as you rested against the kitchen counter. your husband was making direct eye contact with your belly. you knew that he knew what he did was wrong.
"love, i'm sorry. i couldn't help myself. i know, i'm a horrible husband." he sighed as he dropped his head, "i'm so, so sorry."
you sighed, "lando. we made an agreement. you weren't supposed to do that. c'mon.
beside you on the counter was a small stack of pancakes. you had a craving for banana and chocolate chip pancakes. you had set some aside for lando, but your pesky husband thought that he could try and sneak another off of your plate.
lando was almost to his knees as he approached you and wrapped his arms around you, "i'm sorry my beautiful darling wife."he pouted at you, "no one makes them like you, i couldn't help myself."
you pushed his face away and sighed dramatically. you weren't even that upset, especially when your mafia husband gave you puppy dog eyes. you said with added drama, "your son is going to end up loving me more if you keep this up."
he whined, "no!!!" and pulled you into a tight hug once more. he peppered your face with kisses, "i'll make it up to you, i promise."
you took him by the face and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, "well, if you go to the store now. you should have enough time to get everything for another batch." you winked at him.
before you had another second to think about it, lando was out the door with his keys in hand. anything for his wife, anything. <3
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kikyoupdates · 15 days
Text
Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟷
yandere!ocs x f!reader
yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere
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Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.
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“...you can do what now?”
“Hire someone to date you,” your friend, Ava, repeats. She chuckles and waves you off dismissively. “Come on, [Name]. It’s the modern age. People are always coming up with new things these days. I’m willing to bet there’s an app or website out there for practically anything.”
You blink in disbelief. Granted, there is all kinds of crazy shit going on in the world, and you’ve heard of companionship services before—like escorts or sugar baby arrangements—but to hear that something like this is trending nowadays is still undeniably a shock. 
“Here, look,” Ava gestures, pulling out her phone. “I was curious, so I downloaded the app the other day just to check out.” 
“Uh, don’t you already have a boyfriend?”
“He knows I was just browsing. I showed him too, and we scrolled through some stuff together. A lot of the profiles on here are wild,” she laughs. “It’s crazy what people advertise they’re willing to do. Get a load of this guy. He says he’s down to meet your family and make a total ass out of himself just so that he lowers your parents’ standards and the next real boyfriend you get will look way better by comparison.”
“Fucking hell,” you mutter. “I can’t tell if this is actually real, or just some new meme template.” 
“Of course it’s real! I think you’re underestimating how lonely people these days are. There’s definitely a lot of money to be made in this industry. Just look at how much people are willing to blow on their favorite streamer, even though they’ve never met them a day in their life. Dating’s gotten a lot more complicated lately, so I guess some people just want to skip past the troublesome parts and experience what it’s like to be with someone.” 
You furrow your brows. The whole thing sounds incredibly sad when you think of it that way. People would rather pay for a fabricated relationship than put in the time and effort towards building something real? Loneliness is starting to sound like an actual epidemic nowadays. 
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t judge people without understanding where they’re coming from,” you acknowledge. “It’s not like I know what they’ve been through. Times are changing and all. It sounds like this is actually starting to become pretty mainstream.” 
Ava nods chipperly. “Yep! I mean, I love my boyfriend, so I’m definitely not the target audience, but maybe it’s what some people need to gain a little boost of confidence and get back into the dating scene. I doubt everyone uses it in a romantic sense too. There are people out there that just want a bit of company every now and then. Isn’t it nice that they have someone to spend time with this way?” 
“Yeah… I guess that’s true.” 
Honestly, you’re still struggling to fully wrap your head around this. You understand the premise well enough, but you can’t really get past the part about accepting payment just to provide someone with a fabricated experience. Then again, you suppose that’s the case for most things nowadays. People are willing to spend the brunt of their earnings on in-game purchases for video games and other things that aren’t tangible in the real world, because even though they aren’t necessarily organic, it still provides them with some satisfaction. 
Long story short, it’s not up to you to decide what does or doesn’t make someone else happy, and you suppose as long as it’s executed in a professional manner, there’s nothing wrong with meeting new people this way. 
“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” Ava suddenly perks up. “You should join this app! You’re super pretty, smart, and nice. I bet you’d have loads of guys lining up to hire you as their girlfriend!”
“Me?” You blink repeatedly, shuffling backwards the closer she leans in. “I mean, I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job. If it makes people happy, then I support it, but deep down, I worry I’d feel like I’m exploiting someone’s feelings just for a few extra bucks. Morally speaking, I’m not so sure I like the idea…” 
“It’s not exploitation,” she insists. “People know what they’re signing up for. At the end of the day, it’s a buyer-seller relationship. Someone pays for the service being advertised, and they receive it. As long as you’re not ambiguous about what you’re willing to do for the amount that you’re charging, people know what to expect. Of course, I’m sure there might be the occasional asshole here and there, but if they do anything inappropriate or violate the terms, you can report them through the app and they’ll be banned from using it.” 
You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. Some extra money would be nice. You’re a university student with all sorts of loans, so it’s not like you’ve got excess cash lying around. And it’s also true that you’ve been looking to apply for a new job lately, since your old manager was a total ass and you ended up quitting. 
Still. A girlfriend-for-hire? Someone like you? It’s just really difficult to imagine. 
“I actually think it’d be a good experience,” Ava goes on. “You’ve never really put yourself out there before. I know everyone dates at their own pace and stuff, but you shouldn’t have to be afraid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some cool people and want to date them for real. And even if you don’t end up going for them, you still make some money, so either way, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
You chuckle weakly. “Yeah, I just don’t know. I feel like I’m better suited for traditional jobs. But thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m glad you think people would actually be willing to pay to date me.” 
“Girl, you seriously need to believe in yourself more,” Ava sighs. “I’m telling you, you’re a catch. But at the end of the day, it’s your call. You shouldn’t force yourself into anything if you feel uncomfortable.”
You smile and nod in agreement, and sensing your discomfort, Ava decides to change the topic.
But for some reason, you feel a twinge in your chest, and it’s hard to keep your mind from wandering.
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Later that same day, you’re lounging on the couch, mouth agape, having just downloaded the app on your own phone. 
“What the hell am I doing…?” 
You tell yourself that it’s just simple curiosity. Yeah. That’s all it is. Ava piqued your interest earlier, and now you just want to scroll through in more detail to get a better sense of what kind of people use this platform. 
The app is called ‘Partner For Hire’. The name isn’t particularly inspired, you have to admit, but you suppose it communicates its point rather effectively and leaves no room for ambiguity. Ultimately, this is a transactional relationship, and it’s probably for the best that clients know what to expect. 
You can use the app as either a buyer or seller. Meaning that you can create your profile and advertise your services, or simply list yourself as a prospective client and what your hobbies and interests are. In that sense, it’s kind of similar to most dating apps, since you have to take a flattering photo to go along with whatever blurb you’re providing. Of course, just because you try to solicit someone’s services doesn’t mean there’s any guarantee they’ll accept. This is an app where you can run everything yourself, and of course the company takes a cut of your profits, rather than an agency that matches you with a client regardless of whether you want to accept the job or not. 
There’s definitely a lot of flexibility, and you can easily choose who you want to pretend to date. If someone is interested in hiring you, they submit a request to be able to contact you, and once you accept, you can message them directly and establish the terms of the dating contract, such as the length and what particular services will be provided. 
You scroll through the list of boyfriends/girlfriends being advertised on the app, and honestly, it seems like there’s a decent amount of money to be made. Of course, a lot of that comes with building a good reputation and improving your ratings and visibility so more people will want to hire you, but it actually seems like a decent amount of people are able to make a living off this sort of thing. 
You bite down on your lower lip. Should you really go ahead and just do it? Like Ava said, there’s probably not much to lose. All the transactions are managed on the app, so you can easily report people who try to skip out on paying. Clients have to link their banking and personal info, so they’d be taking on a big risk by trying to scam people. You’re sure it might happen from time to time, but based on the reviews you’ve read, the company is really good at enforcing their policies and making sure everyone gets paid.
The money seems good, and it would definitely help take some pressure off your student loans, but ultimately, the biggest thing you’re struggling with is your moral compass.
People are willing to spend money for this kind of thing, and that’s entirely their choice to make, so it’s not like you’re extorting them or anything. Still… you wonder if it’s actually okay to profit off of someone else’s loneliness. You’ve never worked the kind of job that requires you to cater directly to another person’s emotions, and it kind of freaks you out.
But maybe Ava is right. There are all sorts of people in this world. Maybe some of them are just curious to try the app out. Maybe others just want to get their families off their back by pretending like they’re dating someone for a little while. There’s no way to discern everyone’s motivations, so perhaps there’s really no point in thinking about it at all. 
Most importantly, this could be a good thing for you. Life has been stagnant recently, and it’s true that you usually hesitate to put yourself out there. You’ll never learn what you do or don’t like if you keep on avoiding everything. This could be a chance to learn a lot about other people, but also, to learn more about yourself. 
Yeah. It’s time to stop overthinking for a change and just try something new. 
Thus, feeling unusually determined, you spend the rest of the day setting up your profile (finding nice selfies was the longest part of the whole ordeal), and with a resolved huff, you post it and officially go live on the app. 
You’re not really sure what you were expecting, but needless to say, there isn’t any immediate feedback. It probably takes a while for people to stumble across your profile, and even then, there’s no guarantee they’ll want to go out with you. 
I guess I was getting worked up for no reason. Certain people might find success with this kind of thing, but it’s probably not as easy as it looks. 
You scratch your cheek, suddenly sheepish over how needlessly excited you got earlier. You’re not used to stepping out of your comfort zone, so you must have gotten a bit carried away. 
For the rest of the evening, you set your phone aside and come back to reality. You get some homework done, make dinner, and by the time you’re ready for bed, you’ve pretty much forgotten about the whole thing altogether. 
That is, until you check and see that you’ve missed a notification.
“Huh? Someone viewed my profile and wants to message me?”
You’re undeniably taken aback. Not just because it’s happening a lot sooner than you expected, but also because it means that contrary to what you first thought, people are interested in you. 
Having minimal experience when it comes to dating and romance in general, you have to admit, the thought of being viewed as desirable is immensely flattering. 
Curious to see who wants to hire your services, you click on the user’s profile.
His name is Isaac, and he’s twenty-one years old, set to complete his undergraduate studies at the end of the year. He goes to a different university than yours, thankfully, because you can’t help but feel like it would be incredibly awkward to bump into him on campus after pretending to be his girlfriend. He’s studying to become a doctor, which means he’s still got a lot of school ahead of him, but you’ve always had a lot of admiration for people who are willing to commit to their goals and work hard. 
Also, even though you don’t want to sound shallow or anything… he’s really, really attractive. 
You frown. Granted, there’s more to a person than their appearance, but based on how he comes across in his profile and what his future career is, he doesn’t strike you as the type of person who would struggle to date someone.
But again, you can never know what’s going on in a stranger’s life. And there’s no real way to find out why he decided to join the app.
Apart from speaking to him directly, of course. 
[𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬?]
>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]
After a momentary delay, the screen loads into a messaging interface, allowing you to see what Isaac sent you and respond to him directly.  
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You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times.
All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 
More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 
You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times. 
All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 
More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 
[𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]:
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You’re admittedly a bit nervous, especially since you want to do a good job and avoid letting him down, but mostly, you’re feeling excited. All of this is uncharted territory for you, after all. Never in a million years would you have imagined taking on a job like this. 
And you really shouldn’t have.
You don’t know it yet, but this will be the cause of many, many regrets. 
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Shit. I’m starting to have second thoughts. 
Even now, you still can’t believe you’re really going through with this. After talking to Isaac and ironing out the finer details, you agreed to join him for a family gathering and pose as his girlfriend. You expected for him to have quite a few requests, but luckily, he seems pretty laid back about the whole thing. The better portion of your conversation was spent on getting your stories straight so as not to incur any suspicion, and since you’ve always been a good student and a hard worker, you promptly memorized everything there was to know. 
And now, it’s finally time to put this plan in motion. 
“Hey,” Isaac greets. “[Name], right?”
It’s the evening, since his parents are hosting a dinner party. The event is supposed to be pretty casual, but you still dressed up semi-formal in the hopes of making a good impression. He never explicitly mentioned how strict his parents are, but since they’ve been on his case about getting a girlfriend, it never hurts to go the extra mile. 
"Hi, Isaac,” you smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.” 
“You, too,” he nods. He’s considerably taller than you, and every bit as handsome as his picture suggested. Unless his personality is god-awful (which you probably would’ve picked up on after messaging him for so long), you’ve got a good feeling that most girls would be interested in him.
Still, everyone is different. He might have really high standards, or maybe he wants to focus on his studies, or perhaps it’s just a case of having never met the right person. Whatever the reason may be, his parents shouldn’t be pressuring him to date someone, and if you have the means to help him out, you’ll happily do it. 
“You look really nice,” Isaac says. He tilts his head to the side. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to dress up to impress anyone. The most important part is that they believe I’m seeing someone so that they finally ease up a bit.” 
“Oh, I just did this for my own peace of mind,” you reassure. “I made sure to memorize everything you told me in advance, so I’m confident I can convince them that we’re the real deal. Even though this is technically my first day on the job… I promise not to let you down.” 
You blush, feeling rather flustered. The idea of being someone’s hired girlfriend is still a lot to wrap your head around, and you certainly don’t want to make empty promises, but you have every intention of giving it your best shot. Isaac is in a stressful situation, and you’re resolved to do whatever you can to fix it. 
“Can’t wait to get this over with,” Isaac sighs. He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to step inside the car. “Don’t worry. I know you might be feeling a bit uneasy, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything like that. I won’t hold it against you if you have 911 ready on speed dial until we get to my parents’ house.” 
“I trust you,” you insist. “I’ve heard good things about this app, and it sounds like they take safety seriously. They’ve got your information in their system, after all. Plus, I can tell that you’re a nice guy. It’s just a gut feeling.”
“I appreciate it,” he smiles. “Anyways… I guess I’ve stalled for long enough. You can probably tell that I really don’t feel like going. But the sooner I get them off my back, the better.” 
“I’ll be the best girlfriend you can ask for,” you beam. 
It’s a promise to him, but also to yourself. You are committed to taking this new job seriously, and for the rest of the evening, you will do whatever it takes to blend into the role that’s been thrust upon you. There’s no reason to get worked up. At the end of the day, all of this is pretend. It won’t be anywhere near as complicated as a real relationship.
Right?
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lidiasloca · 16 days
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hi! could you do an azriel fic where he gets really angry/upset and reader is the only one who can help him calm down and open up?
you calm azriel when he is upset
azriel x reader
fluff
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You walk to the balcony, not even bothering to grab a jacket to ward off the night's chill. You had arrived about two minutes ago, and Rhys had told you immediately what had happened. 
It was a vague explanation, probably because you had stopped listening the second he said the mission had gone wrong. A mission Azriel was in. You cut him off, asking where Az was. If he was fine. If he-
“He’s fine, Y/N. Calm down. He’s at the balcony.” And that was all you needed. You turned to go and find him outside. But Rhys stopped you. “Wait,” he starts, running a hand over his face in worry. “He’s - he doesn’t want to see anyone. He’s in a very bad mood. The mission… it’s affected him.”
“I’ll try.”
“Y/N. Don’t make him regret later about how he treats you now. He’ll hate himself for it.”
“I can take a few unkind words, Rhys. Especially if I know he won’t mean any.” Especially if it’s him, but you didn’t dare confess that. “Let my try,” you asked instead. 
He gave you a tight nod in answer. 
And now you are here. Taking careful steps towards the male, his back turned. You can sense something is off. Maybe Rhysand was right. Maybe it’s better to leave him alone. 
But your feet keep moving. And then, it’s too late.  
“Get inside, Y/N” he commands. 
You try to sidetrack him. “How did you know it was me?”
But he’s silent, so you command your feet to walk closer enough so you can take a look at his face. 
When you are next to him, he moves his face to look away. You don’t try getting closer, moving your gaze to the sight in front of you. The night was beautiful, very cold, but beautiful. 
Your eyes follow a line of stars, going down and down until your eyes meet Azriel’s, who observes you without expression. 
You can still see the glints of anger in his eyes, frustration painting his tense body. But the silence has made him calmer, so you seize the opportunity. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
Guess this is not going to be easy. You decide to go all in. 
“Rhys has told me the mission didn’t go well.”
He lets out a loud sigh. “Will you get inside,” he says exasperated. “I don’t want you here” You try not to flinch at his rudeness. 
“I know you don’t. But… I didn’t want you to be alone.”
He is silent, but at least he is looking at you. There is a more neutral expression in his face that gives you hope. 
“You… I hate that you always see me like this. Why do you always come when - never mind.”
Now you are the one quiet. Silent for the vulnerably lacing his words. 
“Because I care for you, Azriel,” you reply, your voice soft as a whisper. As if you were sharing secrets. The way his eyes regard you intently, intensifies the intimate feeling. 
He doesn’t have any words for a reply. So you continue. “Az, you don’t have to tell me what happened today. Not if you don’t want to. But please don’t close in yourself completely. Let me try to help you.”
He has never been a worldly male, yet his prolonged silence is killing you tonight. 
But you don’t feel like pushing him further. 
Eventually, as if he had been giving thought to your proposition, he replies, “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. Help me,” he says, and you see the effort he puts in giving you a weak smile. “Please.”
You suddenly hype up. Joy filing your lungs as you say, “Thank you, Az. You won’t regret it. Now,” you say, smiling broadly. “I think this will make you better: Board games with Cassian!”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “I think I am already regretting this,” he tells you, but the bright in his eyes tells you he is much better than a minute ago. And that is all you need. 
“Well - how about,” you start, too exited about your brilliant idea. “I convince Nesta to play with us.”
“Mmmm, that is a good offer. You know how I love watching Nesta destroy him in a game.”
“I know well.”
He pretends to think about it, and you feel eternally thankful that he is putting in an effort to make this work. That he is letting himself think that he can unburden himself from his demons. To let himself have fun with you. 
“I think it’s a deal,” he says, cocking his head in interest when he takes in your broad grin, your overjoyed look. 
You extend your hand, waiting his to seal the stupid deal.
He is hesitant for a second, a flash of sadness in his eyes. But he extends it at last, shaking yours in a gentle movement.
“Thank you, Az.”
He responds to you without words, moving his hand in a caress, going from your hand to your arm, and up, up. He has his hand on your cheek when he whispers, “Thank you.”
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-Characters by Sarah J Maas
HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3
and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters
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