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#he has no business having eyelashes that pretty
link-sans-specs · 2 years
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This is good. This is a winner.
GMMore2199
Dumbest Ways To Get a Guy To Like You
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sttoru · 1 month
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Trueform sukuna who never kisses his concubines. EXCEPT he only kisses his favorite concubine aka reader 😞🎀
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. you’re the only one deserving of lord sukuna’s.. direct affection.
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. fluff, suggestive at most. uhh exhibitionism ? kinda but nothing crazy sexual happens, so pda. size difference. reader gets called ‘doll.’
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you’re standing at the entrance of the estate, along with some other concubines. four of them. uraume is there with you as well. you’re all awaiting the one person you’re serving; ryomen sukuna.
it’s silent. the women don’t dare to speak up nor do they dare address you in a menacing manner because of uraume’s presence. you’re thankful for them. you really don’t want to have another petty fight with the concubines. not before your little trip to the village nearby.
you’re all accompanying sukuna to meet up with an infamous clan leader. it’s official business, but you’re needed as a sign of your lord’s high status. you’re basically his trophies that he likes to show off.
“interesting choice of clothing,” sukuna finally shows up. you all bow, showing respect. you look up and only then realise that he’s addressing you. his eyes wander over your figure, “who’s chosen that for you?”
you glance down at your kimono. it’s a beautiful red—suiting the color of sukuna’s eyes. your hair is put up in a neat bun, with a matching crimson hairpin that represented who you belong to.
him.
“my lady-in-waiting, my lord,” you say quietly. you cannot see it, yet can easily feel it; the jealous glares from the four women. they’re dressed in the exact same color red, yet their lord hasn’t paid them any mind. not even a glance.
sukuna just hums in response and makes a mental note of your answer. at least his human servants are good for something. he continues to shamelessly check you out.
“lord sukuna,” uraume interrupts carefully. they bow their head once the king of curses looks their way with a stoic expression, “we’ll have to leave now if we wish to make it there at dawn.”
it’s a gentle reminder, but there’s some urgency in their voice. sukuna rolls his eyes—he may have some official business, but he’s not attending that. not before taking care of other more important stuff first. “silence,” he comments to uraume, heavy steps heading your way afterwards.
your eyes meet his. you blink in confusion, eyelashes fluttering. the sight makes sukuna’s hands twitch at his sides. the way you stare up at him with such naïveté is making him want to destroy it.
you’re unsure what sukuna wants from you. as he orders, everyone stays quiet. you watch as his big hands wrap around your body—your waist engulfed by his warm palms. your eyes widen, but before you can question his actions, your lips are sealed by his.
it’s rare that he does this. kissing sukuna is a privilege. one that no one has ever gotten the honour of having, except for you.
you’ve tasted him. you’ve felt his tongue slither against yours. you’ve had his saliva mix with yours. you’ve had him grunting in your mouth.
you’ve had it all.
no one says a thing. even as your feet are lifted from the ground by the sheer strength of sukuna’s grip on your small body. to reach his lips properly, he has to pick you up and hold you against his chest. it’s his favorite thing to do.
“pretty thing,” sukuna coos with a grin. you can feel his lips curling up menacingly against your mouth. it makes you whine. you instantly shut up once you realise that you’re still outside and surrounded by others—who are basically waiting on you two to be done.
you’re embarrassed to the point that you want nothing more than to hide your face against sukuna’s chest. but he will not let you until he’s had his fill. your tongues swirl around each other passionately, followed by him sucking on your bottom lip and biting it with his sharp fangs.
“my lord,” you whine quietly. you know this’ll end up like that one time in the garden. where he shamelessly took you in front of his servants. you’re unsure if it’s a smart thing to do right now. sukuna has an appointment to go to after all.
his mouth doesn’t stop interlocking with yours. his thick fingers tug at the hairs on the back of your neck, causing you to part your lips in surprise. the king of curses takes his chance and explores your warm little mouth. the one that he’s claimed as his the moment you became his concubine.
you tug at his sleeve as a reminder. sukuna grumbles in annoyance, but he knows you’re right; he should let go. his bottom set of eyes dart over to uraume for a second and upon seeing their expressionless yet determined face, he sighs.
all that official business can suck his dick.
sukuna finally detaches his lips from your now wet and swollen ones. you’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. you’re flustered to the point you actually bury your face into sukuna’s chiseled chest. you’re sure this’ll be the only talk around the estate for the upcoming week. you’ll become the victim of some more. . . bullying.
the king of curses notices that you don’t let go of him at all. he grins at the sight of you so desperately clinging onto him. he tries to undo the little mess he made of your once neat hair in the meantime.
“what? want me to carry you all the way there, doll?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, teasing you as per usual. you don’t let go of him since you’re still cooling off. you’ve never really kissed outside of the bedroom. it always happens behind closed doors, so this one time took you by surprise.
you shake your head and plop down on your feet again. “no, my apologies, my lord,” you straighten the material of your kimono and don’t even dare to look at the others. uraume would understand, since they’re used to their lord’s antics, but the concubines will cause big trouble once you’re back home.
sukuna nods in acknowledgment. he still got that evil smirk on his face. his thumb brushes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth, cleaning up his mess once again. he’s nice enough to do so today.
“heh.” sukuna lets out an amused chuckle before walking away and ahead of you—the others silently following, as do you. you’re right behind him, on his right side, as he turns his head to yours, “just so y’know, i’m not done with you.”
you know sukuna isn’t. you can easily tell by the way that he didn’t even bother to wipe the lipstick from his own lips. he’s wearing that stain like it’s a medal of sorts. evidence that you’re the only one he’s ever going to show such affection to.
either way; you’re in for one hell of a ride once you’re back from your little business trip.
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sweetiecutie · 5 months
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Warnings: pantie stealing and sniffing, masturbation, Simon has a crush on you, kinda softie! Simon
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who felt guilt pooling in his chest as he fisted his leaking cock violently, a pair of your pink frilly thongs that he pinched from laundry basket in you house was pressed against his nose, inhaling lungfuls of your soury scent. Bright blush covered his normally pale cheeks, honey-coloured eyes rolling back as Riley’s back arched, series of low groans and stifled moans slipping past his lips as hot cum shot out of his overstimulated cock, landing in small puddles on his pubic and tummy.
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who could barely look you in the eyes the whole next week out of sheer shame and embarrassment, brushing you off whenever you tried talking to him. You pouted, not getting such wanted attention from your older brother’s broody best friend, just clicking your tongue as he openly ignored you, finally giving up and turning around on your heels, marching off to your room, snacks and mug of tea in your hands. If only you could see Simon’s eyes lingering longingly on the soft slope of your ass, trying to burn the image in his brain, you small booty shorts doing nothing to hide delicious plumpness of it.
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who clenched his teeth tightly, breathing deeply through his nose to try and control himself as you sat on an arm of the armchair he was settled in, drunkenly babbling about some new movie you’ve been meaning to watch. He desperately tried not to look at your tits as you leant against the back of that damned armchair, your chest poking out of the deep cut of your crop top barely ten centimetres away from Simon’s head, basically inviting him to bury his face in beautiful softness of your boobs. But he just gripped his beer tighter, looking strictly in front of him and nodding absentmindedly at your words, subtly shuffling his hoody down to hide a growing tent in his pants.
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon on whom you can always count. You need a drive back home after going out for drinks? He’s grabbing his car keys and telling you he’ll be there in a few minutes. Some weirdo has been bothering you at work/uni? Simon is discreetly asking bastard’s name as to not rise any suspicions in you, just to have a little friendly chat with him a bit later, making sure to break duchebag’s nose so he doesn’t stick it into your business anymore. There’s something off with your car and you need to get it fixed? How good that Simon is a handyman, bringing your car back to life not worse than any mechanic would (and he’s definitely not flexing his stupidly big biceps while doing it).
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who knew better than to make a move on you. He knew you liked him, and he liked you too (more like was totally obsessed). But he valued his best friend too much, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t appreciate it if Simon fucked his little sister.
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who realised that he was absolutely, utterly, totally fucked as he watched you and your older brother roughhousing around the kitchen, bickering and play-fighting - your smile was so bright and warm, making him feel hot like sun in the middle of August, your loud laughter made his chest buzz with something soft and Riley felt as if he was about to pass out because of the flow of softness he felt for you that moment. Soon your eyes met his, mischievous smirk curled your pretty lips as you threw a pillow at him, surely dragging Simon into your little brawl, creating a huge mess for which all three of you will surely get a good scolding from your mom.
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who tried to distance himself from you because you deserved more than him. He genuinely did try to ignore all your soft smiles and fleeting touches, the way you batted you pretty eyelashes as you listened to him explaining something to you or the way you would nibble on your bottom lip as your eyes wandered up and down his torso as he wore one of his compression shirts. Simon did try his best to save you from himself, but all of his resolve vanished completely and utterly the moment you got brave enough to stand to your tippy toes and press a tentative kiss to his chapped lips.
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who scooped you up in his arms, giving you no chance to escape as he deepened the kiss, moaning quietly into your mouth as you let his tongue in, greedy hands roaming up and down your body, feeling all the curves and dips of it - just like he dreamt of doing past few years. Simon barely registered pressing you against the wall, meaty forearms boxing you as his torso pressed against yours, grinding his boner against your tummy, goosebumps running up his spine as he felt your small arms gripping on his sides, pressing him closer to yourself.
Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who broke off your kiss, a silver strand of saliva connected your lips as he gazed deeply in your eyes, blush on your face made him feel warm and proud. He pressed his lips against your forehead, nosing at your hair and inhaling sweet scent of your shampoo. Withdrawing back for just a few centimetres he muttered in his raspy breathy voice “Go out with me”
Likes, reblogs and comment are highly appreciated, give writers some love!🩷 I’m thinking about making part 2, let me know what you think<3
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fabraies · 1 year
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a man..
hm
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shaisuki · 2 months
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SON, YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS CUTE. MIND IF I HAVE A TASTE?
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FUSHIGURO TOJI X MEGUMI'S CHUBBY GIRLFRIEND READER
content warnings ─── noncon, drugging, reader is megumi's girlfriend, voyeurism, forced orgasm, thigh fucking, brief daddy kink, somnophilia, pussy eating, megumi and reader in 20s, toji in his 40s.
ᝰ synopsis.ᐟ: in which toji couldn't help but to steal a taste of his son's girlfriend. hope he doesn't find out. poor megumi.
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“—gumi... oh fuck...”
he can hear your filthy moans leaking through the crack of his son's bedroom door followed by the breathless whispers and the sound of bed creaking under the weight of you two. he listened for a brief moment before going to his kitchen.
opening the refrigerator and grabbing a water bottle and twisting its cap off then taking a swig from it. toji chuckles at the "study session" you both were doing. ahh, kids these days and his thought goes to you. his son's girlfriend.
he still remembers how you came into his life. his son introducing him to you as a friend but by the looks it's more than of it and you were the first to never ogle at him like he was a piece of meat. there's nothing such as lingering stares, the batting of eyelashes and the seductive voice trying to get him — only a quick bow and an introduction of your name and that's all.
and toji did like that however megumi made clear you were off limits. his son could be so possessive and protective over you and who can blame him — sweet, little like you doesn't know the dangers that lurks at every corner including him and toji has the tendency to fuck who will give him the slightest of interest including you but it still doesn't happen. keeping him at arm's length and that's fine with him — he says but nothing's fine with it.
it is not his business to pry the people his son is dating, he's no different from it. jumping from woman to woman after his wife passed away. he got needs. anyways, his son is old enough to do whatever he pleases and dating is no exception from it and looking at you, his son's relationship with you — it's looking good.
closing back the fridge, in the corner of his sight. he caught the familiar spiky tuft of a hair belonging to his son and you by his side. raising a brow at you two. megumi only gave his father a side glance before escorting you to the door to accompany you in safely going back to your place.
“uhm, thank you for letting me stay fushiguro-san.” you say to him, bowing quickly before following megumi. he only looks at you longer — too close for comfort and noticing his father's gaze at you. megumi glares at the man and toji almost barked a laugh at his son.
don't worry, megumi. i ain't touching your girlfriend but only if she wants too. he wants to say at megumi. their relationship already estranged. well, who could blame his son he wasn't the best of fathers.
then after that, you both were off. the slam of the door being closed briefly echoes in the room and then toji was left on his own. settled in the couch and the television playing his horse races.
“pretty please?” you bat your pretty lashes at him. your eyes getting rounder and wider staring at him with doe eyes of yours and toji isn't so weak at them but gives in. your palms pressed in his chest while your slick covered cunt brushing at his hardened length. “hasn't my boy been treating you well?” he asks. his emerald green eyes similar to his son glints. “no, that's why need you to take care of me.” holding his cheek and leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and then to his jaw and then to his lips. “please, daddy~” you begged in a cute voice that leaves the older in front of you smirking. “if that's my pretty baby wants.” the scar in the corner of his mouth twitching. large palms holding your wide hips slithering to grip your butt cheeks. not breaking eye contact and watch your expression change. chuckling at already your cock drunk face when he plunges his cock inside you. “ah~ yes!” you moaned out. holding his shoulder for balance before shaking your hips to get the best use of your boyfriend's dad cock.
“you're a disgusting one, aren't you?” he mused. cocking his head to examine your once innocent face turning into one of a whore. “moaning like a bitch after taking my cock....is my son really not that good at pleasing you, huh?” a playful chuckle leaving his lips. “nuh uh but not enough, ohh~” kissing his jaw and toji grabs your nape. pulling you into a bruising kiss. his other hand holding your plush waist in tight grip before thrusting his cock violently to your cunt. “oh god, yes! more, more, more!” you screamed pressing your chest against his. your nipples rubbing his pectoral muscles. your cunt spasming around his lenght and your orgasm coming through. “to...oh... ji...mmmm” you moaned out. repeating his name over and over as your orgasm builds up in the pit of your stomach threatening to explode at any given moment and toji, oh he's getting close as well. you got the perfect pussy for him. such a shame his son can't please this slutty pussy of yours. there's a pause in between his growls. fixated on your face turning into an expression of a cock drunk slut while you moan his name. “toji! toji! toji—”
“toji-san?”
the call of his name brought your boyfriend's dad to his not so innocent daydreams. standing in front of him was his son's girlfriend whom he can't stop fucking with his eyes and it didn't get better when you're standing in his doorway with your collarbones displayed in front of him and his sight gets lower he sees the soft swell of your chest and curse the choice of your outfit. a fucking sundress that he's close to nutting in his pants.
“first name basis are we now, sweetheart?” he teases despite the smoldering look he had on you. his sight flicks in to your face. “uhm, sorry for calling you like that.” you apologized. “there's nothing sorry about that, sweetheart.” the nickname you are being called takes you back. your feet taps continuously. a nervous habit you developed. megumi's dad isn't someone you are comfortable with. it doesn't mean you disrespect him but more like you were just intimidated by his father with his muscular build, the scar in his lips moving and his attitude. anyways, you were being polite to him.
“need anything if you're here.” his eyebrows raised at you and the scar in his lips twitch. his body blocking the door. leaning on the door frame posture relaxed and that smug smirk painted in his face.
“i—”
“who's that?” megumi's voice interrupted you. toji glanced behind him and scowled before turning into a neutral expression. moving to reveal you and megumi's stoic features softened.
“just the right time. come.” he said walking towards you and ignoring his father. it was your cue to follow him. “excuse me, toji-san.” bowing your head slightly before discarding your shoes to follow megumi.
toji's sight follows you. pressing a kiss to his son's cheek and returning it by patting your head and kisses your forehead. your cheeks warming up and megumi glances at his father. his scowl deepening and megumi glares at him before taking you to his bedroom.
that little brat. toji thinks but what about it. he was supposedly to support his son's partner not lusting over you but he's a man and it's unfortunate for you for someone like him to take interest.
he slumps in his couch with a groan. annoyed by this carnal urge to just jump on you and make you cum multiple times. he would be better than his son. you will truly be pleased by him. toji plays with his bangs moving it upward to fully see the ceiling above him and ponder about stuff, to you. getting childish of taking his son's happiness for him but how could he resist you. the more you try to pull away from him the more he wishes to get closer to you. you seem to be wary about him and toji can't blame you but that what makes it sweeter. ripe for the picking. always been attracted with the innocent ones and you were not so innocent than you think.
you would be incredibly suited for him. sucking him dry and warming his cock while you sit prettily in his lap watching those races. if he wins he'll fuck you nice and good and if he loses he'll fuck you hard and deny you of release endlessly.
the sound of door opening followed by voices perks him up. “don't you want me to accompany you?” your voice worried and megumi is quick to assure you. “i'll be quick. i'm just picking up the work what kamo finished. wait for me here.” megumi said. quickly to diminish any further worries you have for him. a ghost of a smile in his face before heading to the door.
deciding you can't comeback to his room. you settled in the couch. observing the man in the other couch who's focused with whatever's the television playing and you remained quiet before pulling out your phone to entertain yourself and ignore the awkwardness in the air with your boyfriend's father.
toji stands up making his way to the kitchen but before that he stands behind where you are seated. “what you want to drink, sweetheart?” he offers. the deep rumble of his voice startling you that you almost jumped from your seat.
“water would be fine, sir.” you politely replied and your phone dings. alarming you of a message and toji gets a glimpse of the message.
megumi: i apologize, got dragged by itadori. i'll be back in an hour.
you frown before typing a quick reply and toji continued his way to the kitchen. taking a can of beer in his fridge and pouring you a glass of water. whistling casually as he easily crushed the white, little, round shaped pills before mixing it to your drink. his eyes boring holes in the glass as the pills turned powdered mixes in the water. he grabs the glass and handed it to you.
“here you go, sweetheart.” you naively accepts the glass of water cause it's just water right. a regular water used for drinking.
toji settles in the couch. popping the beer can before taking a swig. discreetly taking a glance at you and following your move. he watches you put your cellphone before taking a sip and then another sip and bingo. placing the glass in the coffee table. watch as you blink. sleepiness taking over you with a confused look in your face and then you were passed out on his couch. sleeping soundly without a cry. finally, toji thought as his plans came into fruition.
toji ignores the television playing. standing up to examine your sleeping figure. you won't make a peep at your current situation. “come on now, sleeping beauty.” he coos. scooping you up in his arms. the back of your knees hooked in his arm while the other supports your back.
“there we go.” he mutters. peering at you through his bangs and toji couldn't deny how pretty you look in his arms. your soft features only for him to ogle at. toji never expected he would be attracted to you despite your heavier physique and being his son's girlfriend. toji would never in a million years would go someone for like you but his son got a good taste in choosing partners in which he took the liberty of pleasing them in bed. they showed interest first, he just returned the favor. to you he needs to work and it's not you'll find out.
he kicks the door open and closes it with his foot before placing you to his bed. he sits beside you. his added weight made the bed creak slightly. admiring your features and running his knuckles in your face. starting from your forehead and then to the side of your face and your round cheek and his thumb swiping your soft lips. such tenderness present in his touches if only it was for his good intentions but toji have so much stored for you.
toji realizing for a minute that the gesture he just had done to you wasn't even bestowed to his wife and only you had experienced such softness in him. that still wouldn't justify what he is about to do with you.
he leans down. the proximity of his face and yours are closer. his breath fanning to your cheek. moving to your neck while he kiss that tender spot he knew that you would like and so he was rewarded a soft sigh in response and a sly smirk graced toji's lips.
so you like that, eh. he moves towards to your pulse point. nose brushing and pressing another kiss again. licking on the tender spot and another soft moan emits from your lips and toji wonders if you can make the same noise again if his lips would kiss your other parts...
the time didn't bother him when he slowly undresses you. beginning to lower the straps of your sundress and pulling it down in your chest area until you were bare in front of him minus your underwear. your bra holding your soft breasts and that cute panties you're wearing is already damp.
he began to kiss your chest, his lips stopping in your stomach to nibble the flesh there. sucking and trapping it between his teeth before reaching to your fat mound. his breathing getting shallow, once he smells you. almost drooling at the sight of your pussy lips inviting him to take a taste. he presses his nose to your pussy still protected by your panties.
the sudden contact made your body involuntarily jump and toji had to hold your thick thighs to stop your drugged body to stop squirming.
his eyes almost roll when his brain registered the scent of your pussy. inhaling your scent through the pesky fabric and toji moves your panties aside. admiring your fat pussy and he can see the cute clit of yours throb and slick is already dripping from your aching hole.
he raises your thigh to place in his shoulder. rubbing the soft flesh in his cheek and bestowing a chaste kiss to it before sucking the flesh. careful not to leave any marks that will reveal of the unwanted deed he had done. you remain still. motionless aside from the sudden jerk of your body responding to his physical exertions to your body.
“you're dripping wet for me, darling.”he mutters. his eyes half-lidded and a nonchalant chuckle spills in his lips. staring at your fat pussy waiting to be taken care by him.
“now, now. daddy's taking care of you.” he says. pulling your panties down and putting it aside. spreading your pussy lips before taking a lick. toji groans at your taste. “no wonder that brat's pussydrunk.” diving back again to your slick cunt getting wetter the more his tongue flicks up and down. catching the wetness with his tongue and although involuntarily your body began to react with his licks.
toji buries his face in between your legs deeper. wanting to get more of that goodness being produced by your sweet cunt. if he'd known sooner, he would have taken you away from his son and make you his. warms his bed and your mouth ready for fucking and this fat pussy of yours, wet and warm to nest his cock inside you.
you remain asleep. your chest fluttering in response to the pleasure of your cunt being licked. it's almost making out with your pussy from how toji frantically catches the drops of your arousal. the translucent wetness settling in his tongue that will sure linger in his mouth for days.
your boyfriend's father begin to ponder. how long it has been since he'd gone down on someone. clearly, it was that long that he can't even remember and you coming to the pictures and with the opportunity of being able to taste you. it tells him to get back at it with an exception. you're the only one who can receive it. such a shame you're sedated. he's quite curious of what sounds you can produce from him fucking your brains out. you're not the screamer, he knows that. it's not the first time he had catched you and his son being frisky but he's sure he can bring the noises you never knew existed.
your legs shakes in his shoulders, a sign of your impending orgasm and your wetness in his tongue increasing that he had to swallow and slurp that goodness coming from you. his tongue flicking back and forth to your folds and sucking your cute little clit. he proves that he still is the expert of making someone cum with his tongue and he's not rusty like he thinks he is.
“good girl.” he praises you as he detaches his mouth to your fat cunt. licking his lips to brush the remnants of your cum that is coating his lips.
his emerald eyes staring at your body. asleep and snoring softly. your chest getting back to it's regular rhythm after being bestowed by an orgasm that a father could give to his son's girlfriend.
he contemplates for a bit if he should fuck you but what about when you wake up. he's sure there would be the familiar sting in between your legs and he doesn't know if you have his son the consent of allowing him to touch you while asleep. that would be a problem. should he use your mouth? ah, clearly not. his sight darts to your thighs and it's going to be good like your hole. that's settled then.
he hoists your legs up. grabbing your ankles as he leaves a trail of kisses in your chunky calves. he's already rock hard and his cock is uncomfortably pressing in his boxers. he tugs his pants down followed by his boxers. his burly cock slapping in his abdomen. its tip red and angry. pre-cum already beading in the tip and toji groans. spitting in his palm to lubricate your thighs before putting his cock in.
“needs to get your thighs lubricated, princess.” the rough and calloused texture of his palm rubbing through your inner thighs. after getting your thighs wet and lubricated. he slowly slides his cock and there's a deep rumble coming from his throat similar to a growl.
“s—shit!” he curses out. feeling the sparks of desire moving upwards to his cock and to the pit of his stomach. if your thick thighs is already this good, how could it be much better if he's going to fuck your pussy. he keeps your thighs together. slowly thrusting his burly cock between your creamy thighs. reveling in the softness of your flesh and how his cock is being squeezed by this heavenly goodness. he should steal you from megumi now. he could sacrifice his relationship with his son for this body of yours.
fuck!
he promised to himself that he would not leave any evidence of your body being touched by him, however his resolve dissolves as the minute goes by. what once and steady pace he's going now isn't going to cut it.
he hugs your legs. his hips speeding up to slam his cock to your thighs faster. he's going rougher and deeper that his balls slaps to the back of your thighs. his muscular thighs also adding the obscene sound of skin being slapped together. the sound echoing in his bedroom and he's sure it can be heard outside. he didn't care though. he's close. ready to burst his seed at any moment.
his semen trickling down your thighs as it's being milked everytime it disappears in between your thighs. although he's working through his orgasm, toji is mesmerized from how your body moves. imitating his thrusts as your body jiggles. the layers of stomach are turning into ripples as his rough thrusts turns to be harsher than the last. you're still sleeping soundly though.
his hips stutter, before slamming with a brutal strength. growling as he released buckets of cums in your thighs. spilling in your thighs and watch droplets of his cum stain your dress and decorating your round stomach. that was fucking intense. the best of thigh fucking he ever experienced and he can't wait to pound your poor, fat pussy until you cry.
he puts your legs down and he takes a moment to memorize your every inch of your body until his gaze landed in your face. he's glad you didn't wake up or else there would be trouble. he fixes himself before going to his bedstand. grabbing the box of tissues and wiping your thighs clean and to your stomach. what a waste. he thinks to himself. he could be pablo picasso or some shit from how he painted your body with his cum.
he tugs the hem of your dress and puts your panty. pressing a kiss to your fat mound and with that he carries you back to the couch and pretends he didn't taste and fucked his son's girlfriend's thighs.
just as he's about to settle in his couch. the door swung open. his brat, bored as ever in his expression. softening as his gaze meeting his girlfriend sleeping on the couch.
he ignores his son and pretends he's focused on the television while takes a drink from his beer like he didn't experienced the best sex of his life although it's just your thighs. it won't be too long before he can bed you. he just have to be patient for now.
you wake up to the scent of megumi's cologne. your head on his lap as you clear the fog in your head. blinking softly as you adjust your sight to your surroundings.
“megumi?” your boyfriend hums. caressing your cheek and the first thing you noticed when you moved is how your thighs felt sticky. you're confused did megumi touched you while you're asleep in his dad's couch?
“did you—” megumi's brows furrows in confusion and seeing the look in his face. you shaked your head. “nevermind.”
“you fell asleep.” megumi commented. “i don't remember falling asleep.” you shrugged as you eyed the glass of water resting in the coffee table.
“stay the night.” he muttered and you nod. sitting up to get closer to him and megumi wraps around your soft middle. almost sitting in his lap before pressing a kiss to his cheek. your boyfriend returning it to your forehead. not minding that his father is only a few seats apart.
he wouldn't admit it but seeing you lovey-dovey and shit with his son, he's jealous. what is he? a fucking teenager? it almost puts a damp in his mood but who cares he almost fucked his son's girlfriend and won't be too long before he can do it again minus the sedatives. get a taste of his cock and you're leaving his son in a heartbeat despite the loyalty shit you have for him.
glancing, a smirk dances in his lips. he just have to wait again to get a taste of you again.
a good father he is.
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breitzbachbea · 1 year
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Scene in the Jerusalem AU that is just Sadık mentally but out loud going through the pilgrims again to Dilan and lamenting that their hostage isn't one of the cute ones. Similiar vibes to the Michele and twins scene I'll work on in a few days.
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grimesthinker · 11 months
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Stepdad!rick having a bunch of friends over for a poker night or something and you come downstairs to get some water and popcorn, wearing the tiniest, tightest pyjamas he’s ever seen. And ur unaware of the several wandering eyes cause you’re way too busy with your nose in a book, standing by the microwave. And Rick has to excuse himself for a moment to tell you to get back upstairs before he loses it and fucks you in front of his friends…
the stepdad!rick spam is EVERYTHING. i audibly squealed. i am in love with you.
you come down the stairs into the kitchen, a cherry lollipop stuck in your mouth and a book in hand. you take the candy from your mouth and smile sweetly to the group of men sitting around the kitchen table, stacks of cards and half empty beer bottles littering the scene.
"hi, daddy!" you greet rick with a kiss to his cheek. you think nothing of it. you're just being polite, after all. you skip to the cabinet and stand on your toes to reach the box of popcorn tucked inside. rick works his jaw as both your thin tank top and tiny pajama shorts ride up, exposing much of your skin. he tenses, gripping the beer bottle in his hand a bit too hard.
he loudly clears his throat when his friends' eyes linger on you for too long. your pretty bare skin, the way you suck on the lollipop as you put the bag of popcorn in the microwave. the men quickly go back to their card game, not wanting to displease rick anymore. you don't notice it. you bend over the counter and put your nose back into the book, reading while you wait for the popcorn to finish popping.
as rick watches you bend over the counter like that, lips sucking on the lollipop and eyes moving along the pages, he can't take it anymore. he gruffly excuses himself from the card game and treads to you, back to his friends so he can block their view as he admonishes you.
"what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asks, voice in a scolding whisper. you place the book on the counter and look up at him, head cocking to the side in confusion.
your voice is sweet. innocent. what a little actress, he thinks. "i don't know what you-"
"upstairs, now."
your eyebrows furrow in confusion and your bottom lip becomes wobbly. "but i-"
"now."
you know he means it. you do as he says, pouting and stomping up the stairs to your room. he excuses himself again and follows you, shutting the door and locking it behind him.
minutes later, your pajama shorts and panties are thrown to the ground, thighs pushed to your chest. you weep as his cock thrusts into your slick cunt, deeper and deeper. "m'sorry! was jus' being nice!" you cry, eyes teary and swollen lips pouty.
what a sight it was. you, the picture perfect embodiment of innocence, taking your step father's cock on your pretty pink bed while his friends wait downstairs. you whine and cling to him, moaning when his cock brushes against your g spot.
"open." he ignores your apologies and holds your jaw with his big hand, spitting on your tongue when you stick it out like the good girl you are.
he gives a slight nod so you can swallow, eyelashes fluttering up at him. your eyes are glossy, hands grabbing for him. he knows what you want. he always knows. he dips his head down to connect your lips. you mewl as he messily kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. "fuckin' brat."
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transvampireboyfriend · 9 months
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Eddie would come up with the most elaborate schemes to kiss Steve for the first time.
here's mine: He realizes Steve is a gossip early on, like the first time they all hang out someone mentions a rumour in passing and Steve latches on. Eddie is delighted. He's enamoured by the twinkle in Steve's eyes and the intensity in his probing, even the enthusiasm in giving out the information he has about the people in question.
So Eddie knows what he has to do.
Whenever Eddie sees or hears something that frankly should not be any of his business he makes sure to tell Steve. He doesn't mention it to anybody else and most of the time he doesn't care about it much, but he needs to tell Steve.
And he only does it when it's just the two of them. He finds Steve in a secluded corner of the Family Video, says "i think my boss is cheating on his wife" and is rewarded with a gasp.
He follows after Steve when he goes to refill the popcorn in the middle of movie night and casually asks "you know who I saw the other day coming out of Laura's house at 3am?" Steve raises his eyebrows higher than Eddie has ever seen.
He calls Steve at midnight on a Wednesday and opens with "my neighbors are definitely getting back together" Steve answers with a devastated "noooo!"
He leaves the kids in the cookie aisle to go catch up to Steve and lean on the shopping cart shoulder to shoulder and whisper "dont look now, but Heather and Monica are here together, right behind us. They ARE dating" Steve looks immediately.
And Eddie's not only excited about his initial reactions, but he thanks the heavens for his discovery because it gets him Steve's total, undivided attention every.fucking.time. without fail.
Steve turns fully to him, touches Eddie's arms for emphasis, shoves him when Eddie says something dumb, tugs on a strand of his hair a bit when Eddie says something silly, opens his eyes SO wide or squints at him and his eyelashes look sooo pretty. Steve leans in and whispers back and grins and teases and scrunches his nose in the most adorable gesture Eddie has ever seen in his life.
With practice, Eddie goes from having to give Steve's shoulder a back handed slap to get his attention, to just looking at him directly for like 5 seconds and then Steve knows Eddie has something to tell him.
so he does it at dinner, on a nondescript date at a nondescript hour because, mostly, Eddie just kinda can't take it anymore.
He's listening to Steve tell this story about a costumer and frankly, forgets to look away from him and Steve interprets this as Eddie having something to say. He cuts himself off, tilts his head and asks "what?" with mirth in his voice.
Eddie smiles, a little mischievous and says "c'mere I have to tell you something"
Steve smiles back, but says "we're the only ones here, Eds" gesturing to his kitchen.
Eddie rolls his eyes a bit and threatens "do you want me to tell you or not?"
Steve leans across the table, his cut off tank almost touching their spaghetti.
Eddie wants to shove his hands through the armpit holes, but he settles for holding Steve's jaw and threading his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
Steve's lips are as soft and warm as he expected, he tastes of the red sauce they cooked together and he smells good enough to eat. Eddie indulges in a thorough kiss but keeps it short.
No matter how many times Steve looks at him like he's the most interesting person in the room, he hasn't outright said that he likes Eddie like that, so he'd rather be careful.
Eddie pulls back and finds Steve smiling, his eyes closed still.
Steve blinks his eyes open and looks at Eddie, his tongue darts out to swipe across his lips and he says "I think that's the best one you've told me yet"
Eddie snorts and feels his cheeks burn "Yeah?" he asks.
"Mmhm" Steve confirms against his lips, already kissing Eddie again.
It takes a while, but eventually Eddie realizes Steve doesn't only give him his undivided attention when he has gossip. He does it pretty much all the time.
Maybe at some point it expanded to everything Eddie has to say.
Or maybe it was like that all along.
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wttcsms · 5 months
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i wanna brag about it (i wanna tie the knot) ; choso.
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pairing choso x f!reader word count 2.6k synopsis overworked, stressed, and in need of relief, choso comes home to the sight of you looking all pretty and sweet. it's been a long time coming, and tonight is the night where choso finally gives in to his deepest desire: fucking a baby into you. content contains babysitter!au (babysitter!reader), ceo!choso, half-brothers!choso & yuuji, toddler!yuuji, implied age gap, breeding kink, obsessive + possessive!choso, housewife kink, misogynistic ideals, wet n messy, size kink, belly bulge, bro is literally so in love with you and dreams abt starting a family with you
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Choso could use a drink right about now.
He’s rummaging through his fridge, more than happy to grab one of the many bottles in the back (he doesn’t want Yuuji accidentally grabbing one by accident — not that it would happen, thanks to your supervision), but he startles away from the fridge when a voice fills the silence of the kitchen.
“Late night?” You tease, giving him that sweet smile of yours that has the stresses from today lifting from his body, easing the weight on his otherwise tense shoulders. 
Fuck. 
Proof that today was a major shitshow is evident in the fact that Choso has forgotten all about you. Staring at your body clad in nothing more than one of those skimpy cropped-cami-and-boyshorts matching sets you always favor, he finds it hard to believe that he could ever forget about you. The refrigerator light bathes you, envelopes you, casts a warm glow on your soft skin and makes it look like you’re an angel radiating some bright aura. A subtle glance at your entire body allows him a glimpse of two, tiny peaks poking through the thin material of your top. You like keeping the house cold. He swallows hard, finding the willpower to focus on your face.
Not like staring at your face is enough to stop his cock from twitching in his work trousers. In fact, he probably gets even harder looking at you, especially when he can tell you’ve probably just finished your very sacred and meticulous nighttime skincare routine, your face glowing. Seeing you all clean and fresh, savoring the domesticity of you washing your face in the same bathroom he brushes his teeth in, salivating over the way you look standing in his kitchen (it could be yours, too, if you would let him give you everything he wants to) wearing nothing but your pajamas — it all makes his hindbrain want to take over. He’s spent the last fourteen hours stuffed in a boardroom or his office, and your simple existence is enough to soothe his soul and send him spiraling, all at the same time.
Choso could really, really use a drink right about now.
“Sorry, I meant to call to tell you—”
“Don’t worry about it.” You smile at him goodnaturedly, like you’re not still in college with much better things to do on a Friday night than wait for him to come home. 
He should be thankful that you’re so sweet to him, but just the idea that you did have plans tonight makes a hot coil of jealousy tighten in his stomach. 
Choso knows that he shouldn’t be feeling this way; he shouldn’t even notice you as much as he does. It starts out with the little things, first, like making sure his assistant gets your favorite snacks restocked during his usual weekly grocery delivery. He asks you about your schoolwork, and then finds himself filing away people he knows in your major’s industry. It’s good to have connections, he tells you, giving you the number to a good business acquaintance of his who’s looking for an intern in the near future. And of course, he’s hyper aware of the fact that you are a very beautiful girl. Unfairly so, with the curve of your lips and the slope of your nose; every time he sees you, he plays a game with himself. Tries to notice something new about you, a beauty mark, a new haircut. If he had the time, he’d probably try to get an exact count of your eyelashes. 
And now, he’s noticing too much of you. The way the fabric of your tiny matching set seems to accentuate every aspect of your body. How he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash and lotion. The way you’re staring at him, so innocently, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts that run rampant in his mind every time you have him cornered like this. 
Some nights, it’s almost too much to bear. 
It’s been a tough day, though. Week. Month. Endless meetings, negotiations that never result in any firm solutions, just more addendums to contracts. He hasn’t seen much of anything besides his office and the boardroom; what’s the point of having an office with a skyline view if he’s too busy staring at spreadsheets and emails to even enjoy it? 
Tonight, Choso realizes, is the night where he snaps. 
He says your name in such a low register, you almost don’t pick up on it. You’re in the middle of telling him a cute story about what Yuuji did during recess with his pre-k class, but you pause.
Maybe it’s all in your head, but it feels like something in the air has shifted. The way your tummy’s butterflies seem to be in overdrive is only proof of this. 
You’re used to the perpetual tension between you and Choso. Filthy rich, successful, always in a nice, tailored suit — looking purely on the outside, who wouldn’t want to get fucked by him? The more time you spend with him, the more time you fill the role of mother over just babysitter for little Yuuji, which gives way to deeper observation of Choso. He works incredibly long hours, but still has time to stay updated on all of Yuuji’s comings and goings, accomplishments and awards. He doesn’t have to; it’s not like he’s obligated. After all, Yuuji is his half-brother, a byproduct of his father’s mistress. He didn’t have to take him in, love him with his entire being, but he does, and this makes you fall for him only more. 
Then, there’s the fact of how he makes you feel. Every time his hands will brush gently against yours, innocently and so quickly, you swear you’re being electrified. The way he says your name, the way he tells you anything, in that low voice of his is enough to get you squeezing your thighs together. But most of all, it’s the way he looks at you. At first, you thought it was because of your crush, but the longer you work for him, the more you realize that Choso will occasionally stare at you when he thinks you won’t notice. 
But how could you not? How could you not detect the feel of his dark eyes scanning your figure, taking in your features? How could you not detect the way his eyes will darken over in lust when he watches you lick sweet cream off your fingers from an explosive can of whipped cream? How could you not catch the barest trace of a smile as he watches you interact with Yuuji at a park, willing to get your hands dirty to appease the toddler while Choso watches over the two of you from his seat on the bench? 
How could you not fall deeper and deeper into his spell when the threads of lust continue to spool, tightening over your body, practically choking you with desire. 
You don’t even realize how big Choso is until he’s standing so close to you, towering over you. So much bigger than you to the point where if you look straight ahead, all you can see is the rise and fall of his chest through his white button down (the one you ironed for him this morning). 
His hands curl into fists, like he’s restraining himself. “Tell me now,” he breathes out, words coming out tight, like speaking to you civilly is proving to be a strenuous task for him. “Tell me that I shouldn’t fuck you tonight. That I can’t.”
Is he joking, or are you dreaming? You’re hyper aware of your breathing now, of the way you reflexively lick your lips, of the way your nipples are pressed taut against the thin, cotton fabric of your cami. You’re also way too aware of him, with the lustful expression in his eyes that give way to something more, as if this request of his means something more. Most men his age and in his powerful position have a wife or a girlfriend by now. As long as you’ve known him, Choso hasn’t been with anybody. 
The stress, the agitation, that annoying, persistent feeling of constantly being pent up — all of it has been building up inside of him. Whoever is going to be on the receiving end of it will be lucky if they’re able to walk the morning after.
“But you can.” You say softly, almost scared that this is some elaborate trick, a means to see if his brother’s babysitter is to be trusted. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
There’s something animalistic in the way he takes you. When he kisses you, it’s hungry. Open-mouthed. Sloppy. It would be invasive if you weren’t so eager to let him, to allow his tongue to hit the roof of your mouth, to swap saliva in the messiest manner possible.
But there’s something gentle there, too. The way his hands cup your face, or travel to rest on your waist. He’s sweet, taking his time to help you slip out of your pajamas, and sweeter still — he lets out an appreciative hum as he takes in the sight of you bare, naked in the kitchen. Fuck a drink, Choso thinks as he takes in your nude body. You’re the only stress relief he needs. 
He whispers the nastiest things to you as he gets you to sit on the kitchen island. He asks you to please spread your legs so he can see that pretty pussy of yours, and when you comply, he takes in a sharp breath before running a single, cold finger against your wet folds. He makes a crude, appreciative comment, asking you are you really this wet, baby? All of this because of me? For me? 
You can’t answer him, of course. Talking is hard when he’s using two fingers to fuck you open, get you ready to take his cock. He’s knuckles deep, and when he curls his fingers right there, the only thing you’re capable of saying is a squeal of his name. Your juices are pooling into a puddle on the counter, the same counter where you served him breakfast so many hours ago. 
He loves watching you. Choso could watch you every second for the rest of his life and still never get his fill of you. He only catches you during particularly chaste moments, moments where you’re humming in the kitchen or playing with Yuuji. He loves those scenes; it feeds the archaic, masculine ego inside of him that tells him he needs to make life easier for you. That you shouldn’t have to worry about school or work, about money or other frivolous things he has an abundance of. He wants to take care of you. 
Seeing the way you lose control of yourself from the work of his own hand has him getting unbearably hard in his work slacks. He loves watching you, and he knows he’s going to love watching you get all depraved and drunk on his cock. 
When Choso first tries to ease just the tip in, you have to curl your fingers over the edge of the counter, trying to steel yourself. With how wet and willing you are, it should be an easy enough task, but it’s made difficult by the fact that he’s just too thick. 
Tip red and angry, leaking with pre, wide — just the sight of Choso’s cock is enough to get you even wetter, more pliant for him, but even the first stretch still has you hissing. 
“S’okay, baby.” He groans, one hand on your waist, trying to steady you, keep you still so he can keep on pushing himself deeper. “You’re doing so good for me.” 
You certainly don’t feel like you’re doing much of anything. It’s hard, when you can’t stop your walls from clamping down on his cock, making it harder for him to move or even think. When he fully enters you, your mind is already too dizzy with pleasure to think straight. You think he says something, but you’re not sure what, and you try to focus on his words, you really do, but then he starts thrusting, and you think it’s powerful enough to tilt the axis of the earth. 
Oh, so this is what sex is supposed to feel like. He redefines everything you thought you knew about it. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, the way the slickness and heat of your pussy seems to keep motivating him to go harder, the way if you look down, you can spot a tiny bulge every time he hits as deep as he can go — all of this combined marks the height of pleasure for you.
“You’re so perfect.” He grunts out, relishing in the way you tighten up at his words. Your eyes are a bit glazed, almost like you’re struggling to focus on what’s in front of you. He doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, there’s pride settling inside his gut as he realizes that he’s the one fucking all the sense out of you. “Let’s do this every night, baby. Do you like the sound of that? Of being my stress relief?” 
He knows that you’re too far gone, too deep in the haze of pleasure, to process his words, to answer him. 
“I wanna fuck you forever, baby. Make you my pretty, little wife and have you waitin’ at home for me. How does that sound?”
He assumes when your pussy tightens up that that’s a yes. 
His hand finds your own, and he interlinks your fingers together. He might be fucking you all messy on the kitchen counter, but he still holds an overwhelming amount of affection for you. Of course he would want to hold your hand. 
He traces your ring finger, feels the familiar sensation of his release building up. So close, he thinks to himself. He’s so close to getting everything he wants.
“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum right. In. Your. Fucking. Pussy.” Each word is emphasized with a particularly hard thrust, and this — him saying that — is what your sex-addled mind registers. You’re vaguely aware that this could be a bad idea, but you’re too addicted to chasing after your high that you don’t put a stop to it. “Gonna give you a baby.”
“Please.” You moan out, the word coming out ragged and strained. Speaking is difficult, so so difficult. He’s happy to hear your beautiful voice, nonetheless.
“Atta girl. I knew you would understand.” 
As if confirming to him that the two of you are meant to be, you both cum at the same time. You feel weightless and drowsy, too out of it to even process how sloppy and wet the mess in between your legs is right now. If Choso pulls out, his cum and your juices would make the counter even more slippery. 
But Choso doesn’t pull out. His cock stays nestled in your wet heat, and he admires your fucked out form. You look a bit different from the fresh and clean girl who greeted him when he came home, but that’s okay. He loves you for you, every iteration you have to offer. He’ll carry you to the bedroom, where he can fuck you nicely, sweetly. Maybe he’ll try his hardest to not go too hard when he has you in a mating press. And after getting his fill of you, after the stresses of work disappear from his mind completely, then he’ll take you to the bathroom and get you all nice and clean. 
He’ll even be a gentleman, showcase what a great husband he’ll be, by letting you sleep in while he cooks the family breakfast.
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teddyeyeseddie · 9 months
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Pay Attention To Me
eddie munson x reader
warnings: minors dni, smut, p in v, c*ck warming, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: I got baked out of my mind and this was born, if I had to write it you have to read it. enjoy babes xx
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It starts out innocent, the want of being close to Eddie burning deep inside you. You’d pull up a chair and sit beside him at his desk, foot hooking with his under the table. 
Then you scooted closer, head laying on his shoulder while he slaved over his campaign. You would let out soft hums in hopes he would pay at least a little bit of attention to you. He doesn’t.
“Honey,” you whine, nuzzling into the mess of curls gathered at his shoulder. 
“Busy, baby,” he responds, eyes never leaving the pages of the notebook in front of him. 
“Want you though,” you whimper, getting up from your spot and snaking your hand over his chest. He sighs at your words, pencil getting thrown to the wayside as he turns in his chair, spreading his legs and looking up at you with the look he always has when he’s irritated. 
“Don’t care, I’m busy darling,” his legs are still spread, dark eyes boring into yours as you sway back and forth.
“Can I jus’ suck you off?” you bat your eyelashes at him, silently begging him for something, anything.
He rolls his eyes, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down along with his boxers. His cock is half hard, Eddie giving it a few tugs as you walk towards him. You’re about to sink to your knees but Eddie stops you. 
“Uh uh- sit,” he says as he motions towards his cock. 
You quirk your eyebrows, confused as he directs you.
“I said- Sit,” he spits in the palm of his hand, stroking his cock as you hover over him. He guides the tip to your hole, you finally sinking down once he pushes in. 
It burns so good, the ache of accommodating him causing the coil in your belly to tighten. You begin to bounce but Eddie's grip on your hip is harsh and tight. 
“Didn’t say you could ride me,” he bites as he turns back towards his campaign, picking up his pen and getting back to work as if he isn't balls deep inside of you right now.
“E-eds please,” you finally whine after 5 minutes of what felt like agonizing torture. Eddie’s cock was so perfect inside you, it rubbed at the right spot deducing you to a squirmy needy mess. 
“If you keep still, I’ll fuck you into the matress, yeah? Be a good girl and I’ll take such good care of you,” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss below your ear as he continues the task at hand. 
5 more minutes pass, Eddie finally closing his notebook and guiding his hand to your hip. 
“Want to ride me? Or do you want me to take care of you?”
You merely nuzzle into his neck, silently giving him your answer. He chuckles and hoists you off of his cock, leading you to the bed. 
He pulls you to the edge, lifting your legs up and pushing them against your body before he thrusts back inside. 
“Fuck- so impatient aren’t you?”
You nod dumbly, boobs bouncing as he punches into you with each thrust.
“Made yourself a mess on my cock while I was just trying to plan a campaign?”
“M’ sorry honey, just needed you,” He thrusts, picking up pace, balls slapping against your ass.
“Yeah, so needy you just had to sit on my cock, huh?” you're a mess underneath him, writhing and moaning as he drills into you. 
“Fuck- you feel so good angel. Pretty sure If I die and go to heaven, I’d just end up between your legs,” 
“Eddie- Eds- fuck m’ so close,” he pulls out at your words, flipping you over in order to fuck you from behind. Your hand snakes to your clit, rubbing at it as he thrusts into you deeply. 
“Come for me, honey. Come on my cock, I’ll come inside, give you whatcha want,” he pins your hands behind your back, setting a rough pace. 
“F-fuck E-ed,” Eddie released your hands, knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets and ride through your orgasm, you feel Eddie pick up his brutal pace, his thrusts becoming erratic as your orgasm continues. 
“Gonna fill you up now m’kay?” you nod, cheek pressed into the pillow as you let out soft whimpers at his relentless pace. 
His hips stutter and finally he’s coming. It’s so much, dripping out of you and down his balls. He pulls out once he has emptied himself inside of you. 
It drips out at a steady pace, his sheets being painted by his come mixed with yours. 
You collapse down onto the bed, turning onto your side in order to let Eddie settle in beside you. He gathers you closely, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
He gets up from his place on the bed after a few minutes, returning with a warm cloth. He spreads your legs audibly moaning at the sight of your pussy painted with the evidence of him. 
He wipes you up, being as gentle as he can. You suck in a breath through your teeth when the rough cloth drags over your clit. 
“M sorry honey, almost done, kay?”
He pressed a kiss above your clit, causing you to giggle.
“Love you,"
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link-sans-specs · 2 years
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Ahem. That face is inappropriate, sir. 😳
GMM2199
Are These Products For Men or Women? (Test)
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.’
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). fluff & smut. kinda porn with plot, kinda not. soft dom satoru; vanilla, praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v -> unprotected, body worship kinda, spooning position, little bit of breast play, mention of premature ejaculation kinda, creampie, size difference, reader gets called ‘princess, baby, pretty, adorable’. reader wears a short skirt. not beta read because i’m tired.
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“oh my god!” you almost drop your phone from the pure shock you just experienced. your hands shake as you look at the unexpected results reflected on the small screen.
satoru, who was minding his business in the kitchen, hurries into the bedroom the moment he hears your shriek. he was prepared to help you out with whatever had caused you to yell so loudly, though was surprisingly met with your beaming smile;
“oh, what got my princess so happy?” he asks with a grin of his own, stepping into the room. his gaze darts from the phone in your hand to your face and back again. satoru chuckles as you suddenly run up to hug him. he joyfully reincorporates the embrace; your happy mood being contagious.
you giggle and babble on about how you passed your two exams and how you ‘didn’t think you’d be able to attain such high grades’. your boyfriend hums and strokes your hair whilst you ramble, kissing the top of your head with a proud expression, “as expected of my smart little girl. i’m super proud of you.”
there goes the praise again — making your heart flutter in ways that no one else had done before. you sigh in content and bury your face into his chest. satoru pulls back after a moment, tenderly cupping your face so he could look into those pretty eyes of yours.
you’re his weakness. he knows you are — he’s always known you are, yet that adorable look on your face whenever you gaze up at him through your eyelashes never gets old.
that same look also makes him want to do unspeakable things to you; things that would have you crying from pure pleasure. you deserve to be shown what a true man would do for you out of love — what a true man like your lover would do to you for your own satisfaction and pleasure.
“i think my pretty girl deserves a reward for doing so well on her exams,” satoru whispers, slender fingers trailing from your jaw to your neck, brushing over your collar bone, “would you like that? a reward just f’you.”
you weren’t born yesterday. you knew exactly what he was indicating. you could tell by his loving yet lustful gaze, his fingers that sensually dragged along your skin and his tongue that darted out to subtly lick his lips. as if he was preparing to devour a five star meal.
which he was.
“f—ngh, satoru!”your legs were wrapped around his head, his mouth and tongue working their magic on your sopping cunt whilst his hands were holding you down by your hips. satoru hadn't wasted a single second after you agreed to his proposal. he instantly lifted your skirt up, pulled your panties down to your ankles and dived right between your legs.
your thighs were clamping down on his head—almost forcing him to continue pleasuring you. not that your lover minded; he'd gladly do this again and again if he could. satoru leaves sloppy kisses all over your pussy, drenching it in not only your own bodily fluids, but his own saliva as well.
“mm, a little needy, aren't ya?” he mutters whilst softly kissing up and down your slit. he was admiring both the sight and the noises — your back arching, hips stuttering and voice shaking with need. the older man certainly did enjoy the view of your cute little face contorting with pleasure each time the top of his tongue teased your clit, “yeah, c'mon - let me see your face while i eat you out.”
you hesitated, however eventually removed your hands that tried (and failed) to hide your flustered expression. satoru lets out an almost inaudible whine at the revelation; his cock begging to be freed from its confines. he wanted to fuck you into oblivion, but today was your day. he longed to satisfy your own desires first.
satoru was nasty with it too. the unmistakeable, erotic and wet noises of him slurping up your juices mingle with your moans and whines. the white locks of his hair brush against the insides of your thighs and right above your clit—tickling you in all the right ways and adding to the pleasure you were receiving.
“fuck,” the older man curses under his breath and the warmth against your pussy makes your lower body twitch. his big hands squeeze around your hips, silently warning you to stay still so he could properly enjoy you, “you're gonna make me cum before i can make you finish.”
his words were true. satoru could get off from simply watching and hearing his girl enjoy herself. he has no shame in admitting that fact; he can't help it when you’re this incredibly gorgeous. he grinds his crotch against the soft mattress whilst his mouth continues to eat you out in a painfully slow yet tender manner.
“t-toru, g'nna cum.” you whimper and try to grind your cunt against his tongue in search for that last push that would send you over the edge. your high-pitched voice sounding so extremely whiny sealed the deal for your boyfriend. he pulls his head away from your tingling cunt - which is a second away from reaching its orgasm - and sits up on his knees.
satoru smirks once he hears your mumbled complaints. one large hand settles on top of your head and gives your scalp a few relaxing rubs whilst the other hastily undoes the zipper of his pants. he tilts his head to the right, glancing down at your squirming form with a lopsided grin, “d’ya want another treat, princess?”
of course, you nod. you were aching for that release that'd been building up in your lower stomach— needing to reach that long awaited climax. your eyes follow satoru's movements as he pulls his pants down. again, as painfully slow as possible.
“just a nod? tha’s all i get?” your partner pouts, nonchalantly revealing his lengthy cock for you to feast your eyes upon. he sighs dramatically before trailing two slender fingers down to your cunt, gathering your slick and using it to coat his tip. the pre-cum mixes with your own fluids and the erotic sight makes your mouth water, “i know for sure that my smart little girl can use her big words to get what she wants — let me hear ‘em.”
whilst you gather your thoughts and words, satoru lays down behind you, helping your body onto its right side. you’re facing the wall and thus couldn’t see that cocky expression he had on. his arms pull your back flush against his chest, positioning your hips the right way and lifting one of your legs up properly.
“p-please, i need to have you inside me. can’t wait any longer, ‘toru.” you manage to beg in the end. the warmth radiating from your lover’s body from behind you only increases your sinful craving. he teases you by kissing your nape whilst his hands get rid of your top—fingers then immediately fondling your tits.
his husky voice whispers a 'good girl' in your ear and that’s all you got as an answer before you felt his cockhead prod at your entrance. satoru hisses at just the slightest of contact—not sure if he could last long this time. he feels like he will explode the moment his tip glides inside your gaping hole.
“so beautiful, can’t believe how lucky i got.” the white-haired man grunts as his lips refuse to leave your skin. from your neck to your shoulders and upper arms — he didn't leave a single inch uncovered. it was almost tortureous: the way he grinded his tip against your pussy as he touches the rest of your body with his hands and mouth.
you whine and rub your hips back in the same rhythm. you were indirectly begging him to put it in already and satoru took notice of it. since you had begged once before, he won't coax you into doing it again.
with a light moan, he slides his throbbing cock all the way up the tight space. the squeal you let out at the sensation of being stretched out to your maximum capacity, made satoru murmur a few more words of praise in your ear.
“you're doing so good - taking me so well,” his voice was smooth like honey, the same goes for his soft thrusts. the way your pussy grips onto his cock makes him see stars. your boyfriend never gets tired of making love to you because the hypnotising feeling of being inside you doesn't ever get old. it feels like the first time he had stuffed you full of his cock over and over again.
you were feeling light-headed by now; your eyes rolling back as your mouth formed an 'o'-shape—the cockdrunk look satoru loves to see on you. the squelshy 'flop flop flop' noises echo throughout the entire room with every deep thrust of his hips against the plump flesh of your ass.
satoru's long fingers go from playing with your nipples to groping your hips and ass. his eyes gaze downwards, watching as the fat of your bottom ripples after his pace quickens. you were trying your best to keep up, but the overstimulation of all your senses made it hard to match your movements to his.
“aht aht. you've worked hard enough on your exams already, princess. just lay back and allow me to do everything.” satoru (jokingly) scolds you. this was your reward and he didn't want you putting in any effort if your body couldn’t handle it. he wants you to relax like you deserve after a stressful period of exams and assignments. he’ll happily do all the work instead.
“oh, mmh! too good — fuck!” you mewl. your fingers curl around the bedsheets that moved back and forth with your bodies. a bigger hand settles on top of yours — intertwining your fingers and holding onto them tightly. you could feel satoru smiling against the skin of your shoulder as he kisses it, absolutely enjoying your little reactions to his thrusts.
“yeah? am i doing well?” he asks in a teasing tone. he didn’t have to ask that question; he knows he’s doing well judging purely by your bodily reactions. your back arches and your limbs shake uncontrollably, “am i pleasing my baby well enough?”
you can only moan out a couple ‘yes’’s, but that is enough of a confirmation. the older man is on cloud nine as he drags his thick cock in and out of your desperate cunt. every time he pulls out he can feel your pussy try to swallow him back in — it drove him nuts.
“i love how you look whilst i stuff you full of my cock. so innocent, yet so.. lewd at the same time.” satoru comments through another groan, the hand on your hip holding your body still so he could fuck his dick deeper into you. the tip of his cock nearly reaches your cervix due to the angles he uses to move inside you.
your long-awaited and much deserved orgasm was right around the corner. your moans increase in frequency and volume which was enough of a sign for satoru to increase the pleasure. his fingers trail down your hips and to the center between your open legs—thumb putting pressure on your clit.
the extra stimulation has got you biting into the pillow beneath your head, your lower body writhing around as your lover rubs the small bundle of nerves in circles and from side to side. his hand moves fast—its mission being to help you reach that intense orgasm you were chasing after.
satoru is feeling it himself as well. his cock aches and twitches as it gets ready to drain its balls inside your pussy, “cum with me baby—fuck—cum on my cock whilst i dump my load all the way into your tight little cunt.”
that was all the encouragement you needed. your eyes roll back and your body convulses as the waves of pleasure come crashing down all at once. you could feel satoru’s hips desperately push against your ass, filling you completely with both his dick and hot spurts of cum. you could feel the warm essence leavings its evidence in your womb.
the bedsheets underneath your two bodies was drenched in your slick after you calmed down a bit. your boyfriend continues to place comforting kisses all over your naked body, trying to show his appreciation for you in all the ways he could.
“you did so well. you deserved this, princess.” satoru utters softly, the hair clinging onto his forehead. he gently pulls his soft cock out after a minute of making sure that every drop of his cum stayed inside of your cunt. he loves the feeling of fulfilment that it gives him — loves the fact that he filled his girl to the brim.
you smile weakly. you were fucked out: completely and utterly. it felt good and you were satisfied with your reward. it even gave you enough motivation to do well on future exams, “thanks, ‘toru. ‘m feeling sleepy though.”
satoru snickers. you were always so adorable and vulnerable around him after the two of you partake in such activities. he loves it and it makes him want to take care of you.
“you deserve plenty of rest, so go ahead.” your lover smiles gently, kissing the top of your head after you close your eyes. one of his hands hold yours whilst the other rubs your side soothingly, “i won't leave. i'll stay right here with you whilst you sleep. i promise."
satoru knew you needed to hear those words in your vulnerable state. and surely enough, you smile once more and nod. your body falls asleep the moment his strong arms pull you into a loving hug.
his lips attach to your ear in the form a chaste peck. his smooth voice was the last thing you heard as you faded into an unconscious state;
“i love you so much.”
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🏷️: @marimogf @osaemu @screampied @sukuette @sachiyoh @giannitaa @morinuu
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pippin-katz · 9 months
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Alex & Being Bisexual 🩷💜💙
I've seen a lot of people complaining about Alex not having as big of a crisis over being bisexual as he did in the books, but I feel like a lot of people are overlooking the development he does go through.
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Henry is the first guy he has felt attracted to that he actually knew prior to getting physically involved.
Alex & Miguel
Nora's asks specifically about men Alex has "been with", not men he's liked or interested him. She means physically, and he knows that too. Alex doesn't even bother with giving any context or details for his high school hook up. His description of his hook up with Miguel is straightforward, direct, and factual, because he doesn't have an emotional attachment to that moment or Miguel.
This, and his interactions with Miguel, gives the impression that they don't really know each other that well. It seems like they met during the campaign, made out in a hot tub, and now occasionally they talk at school.
They don't seem like friends, rather acquaintances after a one night stand, which is pretty much what they did. Their first conversation is mostly Miguel trying to get quotes for his journal and flirting with him rather than any kind of real discussion.
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Gifs courtesy of @phakphumm from this post
Alex isn't stupid; he knows Miguel is flirting with him, however he chooses not to acknowledge it. He doesn't discourage him, but he does not encourage him either.
He avoids saying anything about it at all. His expressions after the eyelashes comment show him at a bit of a loss for how to respond. Alex seems flattered by the compliment, but doesn't seem to have any real desire to hook up again.
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Everything Miguel says, he says in an attempt to get something out of him, whether it be flirting to hook up and/or get quotes for his journal.
Same thing at the state dinner; Alex isn't fully paying attention cause he's busy staring at Henry, but Miguel opens with compliments, specifically about his memo, which is definitely an attempt to flatter him. Then he starts asking direct questions about the campaign, Alex doesn't answer, and he walks away. They're not really friends.
New Territory
It's one thing to admit being somewhat attracted to the same sex, under limited, physical circumstances. Lots of people often joke about "being straight/gay but I would sleep with this person".
It's another thing to develop an attraction to a person you know of the same sex when you've never had those feelings before. It's not just physical anymore, because you know and like this person outside of that context, and the physical intimacy gains a new meaning.
Alex VS Feelings
This is a new feeling for Alex. This man practically makes out with two women he barely knows without any qualms, but when he's waiting to see Henry? His close friend who he knows and plans to kiss?
He is nervous; not just a little nervous either:
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Alex is a pretty confident guy, able to host massive parties and dance without any reservations about it, unlike Henry who awkwardly bounces. He's a fantastic public speaker. Excluding the wedding, which were extreme circumstances, he's able to navigate a room comfortably. We know from the closet conversation that he used to get scared, but it's clear based on his campaign efforts, the DNC speech, and so on that he's grown into his role and can play it well.
Here, Alex can't sit still. He doesn't know how to stand. He's shifting around, almost pacing. He visibly tries to muster up the confidence we know he has, but can't. He's trying to pose, or look confident, and almost gets there, but the second the door opens, he panics and just stands there.
"But that's just cause he really likes Henry!"
Yes, exactly; Henry is his first step towards fully realizing his identity.
Once the tension is broken, Alex is confident again and doesn't hesitate anymore. He may not be completely sure of his identity, but he is completely sure that he wants Henry. Those thoughts take priority when he kisses him. He knows physical intimacy. He knows how to kiss with someone regardless of who they are. He has been with a couple men, and is a man himself, so he knows what feels good. His confidence stays intact during their exchange when they get to his bedroom.
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There are very small moments where you can see his nerves poke through.
When Henry pushes Alex over the couch, not only is it surprising to him, it also disconnects them for a few seconds. He has a chance to look at Henry while they're not touching or kissing, no direct distraction.
When Henry starts undoing his pants, he looks up, inhales quickly, blinks a couple times, and swallows; it's almost like he's thinking "okay this is actually happening now". Again, no direct distraction, as Henry isn't doing anything yet, and Alex isn't touching or kissing him.
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Both moments go by fast though because he's focused on what he knows, the physical part. He knows he wants Henry physically, so he can focus on that, and deal with the other feelings later.
Alex is aware that he has feelings toward Henry that are new to him. He doesn't know what they mean, and it's nothing even close to what he feels later in Paris and at the lake house, but they're starting to form. He's the one who suggests that he and Henry see each other again, and you would have to be blind not to see the brief disappointment on his face when Henry says it has to be very casual. It's also important to note that this is right after Alex comes out.
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The Bisexual Label
While his feelings make Alex nervous, Henry is still his friend and he feels comfortable around him. He's the first person he comes out to; he was unable to say anything definitive about his identity during his conversation with Nora, despite her best efforts to help him.
Henry is the first person he tells and he distinctly shows uncertainty when he first uses the bisexual label:
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He's serious about it; not overly serious, but he's coming out very formally. He's nervous, even though he's telling Henry, who he literally hooked up with five minutes ago. Henry already knows he's attracted to men. Alex is not nervous about that; it is clearly the label that he's uncertain about.
Confidence
A lot of people get taken by surprise when they start questioning their identity because they had simply never thought about it before.
The uncertainty Alex has about his identity was initiated by his feelings for Henry. Alex clearly never considered the idea of being in an actual relationship with a man. Without Henry, he may have never figured out that he was fully bisexual. He may have continued fooling around occasionally with guys, never giving serious thought to the other possibilities, unless/until he met someone like Henry who basically smacks him in the face with a mirror.
Being with Henry makes him truly think about himself, and come to the conclusion that he's bisexual. Seeing/dating Henry also makes him more comfortable and confident in his identity over time.
While Alex hadn't acknowledged Miguel's advances before, after he sleeps with Henry, he actively calls him out on it and refuses without hesitation as soon as Miguel puts the suggestion out there. Miguel even says "Well, I don't anymore", confirming that had been his intention in earlier scenes.
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He had been trying to hook up with him again, and because Alex never addressed it, Miguel thought that it was possible. Alex may not have addressed his comments, but Miguel could see for himself that they had a positive reaction; he felt flattered and bashful. That response coupled with the fact that Alex did not outright tell him to stop was enough reason for Miguel to think it could happen again.
Also, Alex told Nora that he got the feeling Miguel wanted to hook up again, but that he was a journalist, which does not say he wouldn't be down. He never says he wouldn't want to; instead he expresses his apprehension to the idea due to his job. So for all intents and purposes, before Henry came along, Miguel was correct to think it was a possibility.
This seems to be the first time Alex has ever actually addressed their tension, and it occurs after he starts seeing Henry and using the bisexual label.
Owning The Bi Label
Then Zahra finds him and Henry the next morning. She is kind enough not to tell Ellen immediately, because even if she won't admit it, she does care about Alex a lot and recognizes the importance of something like this. However, she makes it very clear that he needs to tell her ASAP or she will.
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When he comes out to his mom, he is significantly more sure of himself when he uses the bisexual label. He laughs and uses the shorten term "bi" which is a small detail but indicates his confidence, compared to how he cautiously said "bisexual" when coming out to Henry. He's not at all nervous to use the term, and says it grinning.
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This is also indicative of his confidence in his label because Alex doesn't lead with his sexuality. He leads with meeting someone, and clarifying that it's a man, and that it's Henry. So once they're on the couch talking, Ellen is also already aware that he is attracted to men, but this time, he's prompted about his label and he shows zero nerves about using the term "bi".
Queer Identity
By the end of the movie, Alex is able to publicly refer to himself as having a queer identity. Obviously, he was outed against his will, but he is still able to stand up and acknowledge who he is without nerves about it. He has been with Henry for a year, and he knows who he is, and he’s not ashamed of it. As he says, the leaks were an issue of privacy, not shame. Alex is not afraid to say who he is, and he is queer, he is bisexual. He’s a different person than he was before Henry. He’s learned about himself because of him.
Does he have a complete, computer-error-noise breakdown over it? No, he doesn’t, but he does not immediately start waving a bi flag around either.
Okay, that’s all! This took so freaking long to put together, but I hope it helps people understand how his bisexuality is addressed in the movie. Just because he has a different journey than he did in the book does not mean he did not have a journey at all, and I hope this allows people to see it more clearly! Thank you for reading!
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months
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Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.
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The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.
Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.
A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.
Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.
There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.
Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.
Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.
“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”
Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”
“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”
Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.
Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—
But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”
Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”
Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”
“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”
“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”
“About what?”
“Serious stuff, I guess.”
Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.
Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”
“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”
In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.
A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.
“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”
Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.
“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.
Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.
Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.
Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”
Cassian just chews his bottom lip.
“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”
“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”
There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.
Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.
He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.
Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.
But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.
He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.
His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.
What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.
Dangerous.
Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.
“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”
No.
No, Azriel is not alright.
Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.
He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.
But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.
Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—
And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.
But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.
And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.
He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”
“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.
“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”
“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”
Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.
And then he says quietly, “No.”
It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.
But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.
This is serious.
Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.
But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.
And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.
“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”
Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.
“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.
This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”
Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.
And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.
“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”
“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”
“Piece of shit—”
“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”
Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.
A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.
What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.
The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.
He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.
“HEY!”
Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.
Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.
“Fucking vile—”
“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”
“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”
If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.
“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”
Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.
“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.
Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.
But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.
Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.
Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”
Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”
“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”
Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.
As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.
“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”
This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.
They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.
“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.
“Yes.” All three males intone.
“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”
Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.
“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”
Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”
Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”
Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.
“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”
Neither males are exactly sure.
But they’re both wise enough not to say that.
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The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.
And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.
Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.
At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.
It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.
Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.
He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.
“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”
“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.
You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.
 “I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”
“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.
“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”
Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.
You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”
Rhys studies you. “Done what?”
“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”
You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.
And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.
Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?
“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”
“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”
“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”
“I don’t disagree, but—”
“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”
“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”
Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.
He doesn’t.
He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.
He grits out through his teeth, “What.”
“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”
“Stupid how?”
“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Utter silence.
Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.
You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.
And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”
“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”
“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”
“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”
“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”
Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”
“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”
Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.
But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.
You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.
You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.
Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.
Wish you were someone, anyone, else.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”
You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.
There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.
“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”
You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.
You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.
And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.
“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”
Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?
But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.
Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”
A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”
He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.
“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”
“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”
“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”
Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”
You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.
Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”
You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.
But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.
Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”
You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”
His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.
You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.
And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.
“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”
He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”
The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.
And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.
“Out with it.” You say blandly.
“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”
You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.
And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.
When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.
And like always, he squeezes back.
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There’s a new crack in the ceiling.
There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.
This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.
This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.
Azriel fucking hates this bed.
He hasn’t slept a wink all night.
He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.
Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.
And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.
The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.
Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.
But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.
It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.
Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.
Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.
It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.
It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.
And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.
And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.
He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—
But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.
“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”
He heaves a deep, long sigh.
He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.
But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.
Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”
Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”
“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”
“It was nothing.”
“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”
The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.
Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”
Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”
“What of my offer?”
Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—
But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.
“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”
“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”
“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”
Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.
But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.
“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”
Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”
“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”
The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.
“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”
Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”
Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.
“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”
The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.
He can’t bring himself to care.
“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”
Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”
She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.
“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”
Azriel doesn’t bother replying.
He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.
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“You’re sure you want to do this today?”
Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.
It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.
But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.
So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”
“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”
“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”
The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.
So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.
Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”
You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.
The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.
You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.
The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.
This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.
You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.
But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.
And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.
Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.
Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.
He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.
It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.
“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”
Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”
“Then why—”
“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”
After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.
But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.
Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.
You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.
And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.
“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”
“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”
You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.
Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.
There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.
But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.
It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.
“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.
In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.
“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”
His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.
“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”
His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.
You don’t speak another word to each other after that.
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As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.
Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.
“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”
“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”
But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.
“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”
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promisingyounglady · 18 days
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watermelons. | JS x Reader
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SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.
PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader
A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.
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He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.
And by the girls, he means your tits.
Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.
And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.
The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.
“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.
“Back off, Bradshaw”
And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.
“Hi sweetheart”
It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.
“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.
“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.
And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.
All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.
That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.
“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.
He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.
“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.
You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”
Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.
You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.
“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.
Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.
“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.
The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.
The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.
Jake Seresin was a tits guy.
So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.
You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.
“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”
He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.
“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.
you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.
“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.
You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.
“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.
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bunnyreaper · 8 months
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task force 141 boys, au where they all work as masseurs and you're their client.
(18+/nsfw, f!reader) 
simon is known for his sheer strength when it comes to massages. he has a lot of clients who are stressed-to-death business types because any knot, he can work it out, and he does it without saying a word. he's preferred by clients who don't want to make small talk during their treatment. 
his hands are massive, and seriously, any aches quiver in his presence because they know they're going to be gone soon under his firm touch. 
when you come to the appointment, it's a change of pace from his usual clientele. you ask questions and seem just a touch nervous, explaining that your usual masseuse was out on maternity leave and your boss had recommended simon. he made it his mission to make you comfortable, and from that first appointment with you, he's finds he doesn't mind conversation so much as long as it's yours.
at the end of the first session, you mention your preference for late night appointments, and while he wouldn't usually change his schedule, he does for you. he accommodates you because he kind of hates the idea of you with another masseur--he gets the sense you wouldn't be comfortable with some of his coworkers. 
he'll never ever make a move or do anything suggestive. he stiffens and hesitates when he gets too close to anywhere he shouldn't, and makes sure to always remain super professional (he's definitely overcompensating.) 
one session, you're turning over to your front when the towel slips and he sees the slightest glimpse of your breasts--but what strikes him is the way you apologise to him.
the both of you are so flustered, you don't even notice you've left your phone behind until you get out to your car. when you rush back in to grab it, you forget to even knock and walk in on simon with his dick in his hands. 
and god, even the way he works himself is hypnotic, and you can't help but want to lend a hand as you take ahold of his slick cock.
john attracts clients with his warm demeanor, and his occasional bit of sage life advice on top. a lot of his clients tend to be guys like him, so he's surprised when you end up at one of his appointments. 
he's instantly smitten, and finds that he pays extra attention to your body. not just how it looks, but the way you react to his touch. unlike any masseur you've had before, he doesn't need to ask about the pressure and you don't need to correct him, because he just knows. it's instinct, the right pressure, the right moves, the right scents and everything. you start to think john is criminally undervaluing his services, as you come out from every session feeling a million times better. you used to only go once a month or once a fortnight, but it's almost as if you're addicted to his touch. he refuses tips, so you start baking for him and batting your pretty eyelashes at him to get him to take the treats.
one session you have the achiest thighs ever, and you groan to him about how much you just need some relief. price laughs, and gets to work on oiling up the back of your thighs. he's so in tune with you, he notices the way you squirm under his touch as his fingers climb higher, notices the way your breathing escalates, and well, it's impossible to ignore when you straight up moan for him.
you're horrified but his soothing voice is there, reassuring you that it's normal and natural and nothing to worry about. you swear when you turn over he's smirking. at the end of the appointment, he offers you his card, looking you dead in the eye as he tells you he makes house calls too. 
and of course his intimate massages, just for you, are mind blowing. he takes his time even more than usual, working the tension out of your hands, your arms and your shoulders before moving to your breasts and down your stomach. then he works up from your feet, over your calves and thighs just as he did before. he has you entirely slicked and oily as he massages your clit so fucking carefully and slowly.
johnny's specialism is sports massage and works with a lot of young guys and gals, but he offers other types too. he comes highly recommend for someone looking for functional tips alongside their massage. he's chatty as all hell and likes to make small talk during sessions if the client is up for it. super welcoming and friendly, and everyone loves the accent. 
you find you love talking to johnny, because it just comes so easily. you're sure he does this with everyone but he's always asking questions, getting to know you. it's almost like you become friends, as he says you're his favourite regular. johnny jokes one time that he'd be heartbroken if you ever saw someone else, but you could never. now there's no one you'd trust for massages other than him. 
when you need physio, it's him you go to as well, even if he chuckles a little when you explain you injured yourself drunk, dancing on a table. 
it's a physio session where it all changes, you've been doing mobile stretches under johnny's direction, but he feels you need a little bit of extra stretching. 
you lay down on the mat as johnny scoots closer and takes ahold of your ankle. he rests his foot on his shoulder as he starts to push, and you're looking up at him with so much trust in your eyes. he keeps pushing you, and you give less and less resistance, until suddenly he's pressed against you--his hardness is pressed against you.
his eyes go wide as he moves away, and he's stuttering out apologies in an instant, worried about how unprofessional and inappropriate it is, assuring you that it's never happened before (he doesn't have a big fat crush on just any of his clients.)
it's then you climb atop of him, running your hands over his shoulders as you tell him just how flattered you are. johnny's got you bent over before you can say another word, stretching you out in another way.
kyle is a real hit with older women, they love their young boy toy masseur with the bright, gorgeous smile and bulging arms. a lot of them go to the same country club, and they all talk about gaz in this one circle of older ladies. his diary is always booked full, but he'd managed to squeeze you in late one night during the week, and you were so thankful.
he's surprised when you come through the doors, similar in age and not at all like his usual clients, especially the more outrageous or entitled ones. 
his voice is so soft and smooth as he talks you through the consultation beforehand, to the point where you already feel soothed and relaxed before he's even put his hands on you. he struggles with his attraction from the first meeting. 
his touch is always on the lighter side, which you find absolutely perfect, and the skin on his hands is so smooth that being rubbed by him is a dream. he likes to use heated oils and aromatherapy too, and sometimes you swear you fall asleep on his table. waking up after one of his massages, to his smiling, cheerful face and kind eyes makes you feel more rejuvenated than anything. 
one time when you're coming in for a session, you arrive earlier than usual and catch the tail end of his previous appointment. its one of his regulars, a particularly high-maintenance and touchy-feely woman, who despite being married is trying to come on kyle hardcore. you had planned on waiting outside respectfully, but marched in once you saw the discomfort on his face. 
in your session, you can tell he's still a little uncomfortable from the session, so you try talking to him throughout to take his mind off of things. 
you probably shouldn't have made a comment, or asked if he gets hit on a lot, but be laughs it off and says it happens a lot. his hand freezes on your calf as he admits he wouldn't mind as long as it were you--and you find yourself climbing off the bed and sinking to your knees to give him some relaxation for once. 
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