#there was a HUGE fucking tear in my tire.
Note
can you do 2010tom x reader fic where they’re having twins<3
yess!
Mini me's
PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader
CONTENT: FLUFF
SYPNOSIS: Y/N and Tom are having twins, it's time for her to give birth and she delivers 2 healthy babies, one boy and one girl. Tom is brought to tears seeing your beautiful babies.
A/N: i cried while making this
WARNINGS: details of giving birth
The day had finally come, 9 dreadfull months of being pregnant. I am being quite dramatic, being pregnant was so fun until the third trimester. The twins were so active when I was nearing my due date, kicking around and making me so nauseous.
I sat in the hospital bed, my water broke 10 hours ago and I was waiting to be fully dialated to give birth. Tom rushed in the doors, chest heaving up and down as he ran to my side, holding my hand.
"Sorry I was late baby..I had to get everything from the house that you needed" I chuckled "you were only 5 minutes late baby don't stress, I haven't even started pushing" he sighed and sat in the hospital chair next to the bed, relieved he didn't miss the birth of his children.
"I can't believe we're having kids at 21, I thought we'd be saving it until we were 30" I sighed, rubbing my huge belly. "Well we both love kids and couldn't wait I guess" he chuckled, rubbing my hand with his thumb softly.
Suddenly I started to feel more contractions and knew I was probably going to give birth any second now, "fuck! Tom get the nurse!" I winced, holding my belly and closing my eyes shut, taking deep breaths to try distract myself from the pain.
Tom shot up instantly and called out for a nurse, 3 of them came in and calmed me down, preparing me for the birth. Tom rushed by my side again and held my hand, whispering sweet nothings into me ear, "it's ok baby..you're doing great" he smiled, kissing my sweat drenched forehead.
I started to push, the pain stabbing into my lower abdomen. "Ahh!" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks as I did another big push, "good girl schatz, keep going" Tom called out, I cried out, a few more big pushes made one of the babies heads pop out.
"So close honey! Keep pushing!" the nurse said, grabbing onto the babies head and pulling it out softly. The first baby came out and I was so tired, not being able to open my eyes properly. They took her to wash and treat her, check if she had any abnormalities.
The second babies head popped out a few minutes later, I started pushing again, my body weak and tired. "Cmon, just one more big push honey!" the nurse reassured me, pulling the baby out and cleaning him as well.
I layed back and panted, trying to catch my breath. Tom kissed the top of my head gently, "you did so well, I'm so proud" the nurse came around with the babies and pulled my nightgown down, revealing my chest and placing them on top.
I smiled down at them, tears streaming down my cheeks, "they are beautiful..oh my god" Tom choked out a sob, tears falling down his cheeks too.
Once the babies settled and finished crying I breastfed them, giggling at how tired they looked. "They are so adorable, they have your eyes" he smiled, pulling out clothes we had packed for them.
We got them changed and into the carriers, Tom softly rocking them so I could sleep. I fell asleep for a few hours, needing to rest desperately after everything that happened.
tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @ge-billsgf @syylss @bkaulitzlover @estxkios @ballhair @charliesgoodboy
#tom kaulitz#tokiohotel#bill kaulitz#georg listing#gustav schäfer#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz x y/n#tom kaulitz x you#giving birth#labor and delivery#pregnant#pregnancy#ilovetomkaulitzhessobaeiwanthimtofuckmerightnow#ilovetomkaulitzmybfomg#sweet fluff#tokio hotel fluff#fluff#adorable#aww#so cute#precious#kaulitz twins#twins
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
🙃
#im gonna lose my mind and unfortunately not in a fun way#teacher im interning with texted me earlier telling me not to go in to school today bc she has covid#because ive been with her all week and she hasnt been wearing a mask at all i've been hella exposed#i had to drive to target to get tests because i took the One we'd had left in the pantry. and THEN found out it was expired#soon as i get in my car. turn it on. light that tells me i need air in my tires is on and i mean Immediately#i LITERALLY put air in my tires just under a month ago. i remember this because it was the first day of metro con.#and i did it on the way to the con. dressed as a fucking anime girl.#i decide i dont give enough of a shit about my tires because of that and bc i need to go fucking covid test myself so i drive to target#i park. as i pull into a space i FEEL my car do some fucking stupid shit. i go into the store. i come out.#i get to the first stop sign on my way out of the parking lot and i can tell my car is Sinking down on the front left tire#quarter of the way home my tire is completely flat#i get less than 2 minutes from the house. my car sounds like it's going to explode because im practically driving on my fuckin rims#and i have to call my mom to tail me the rest of the way in case my fucking car blows up or some shit#there was a HUGE fucking tear in my tire.#i take one of my new covid tests. comes back negative. go to sams club (masked) with my parents to get a new tire#i fucking get home and i get reminded of the fact that covid may not be detectable within the first few days :)#which means the plans i'd made for saturday had to be cancelled :) and while they have since been resolved i am Still#Upset#because today has just been BULLSHIT#by FAR i have had worse. but im having this day Right Now. and right now. i am upset.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Moms will literally blame everything but themselves and then also cry about it
#I forgot how much I hate being at home#‘why aren’t you going to spend time with us?’#idk maybe because I did last night and you were fucking mean to me?#like you don’t get to be rude and also entitled to my company#she said earlier this week ‘oh we should play that game from last year on Christmas this year’#and by that she meant the d&d campaign that I spent weeks on#writing a custom campaign making maps making them each a character sheet and painting minis and making spell cards and inventory packs#plus loads more#and then they decided they’d rather watch football and then were too tired after to play my game#so yeah I was incredibly upset and threw it all away and have no trace of it anymore#and I told her that and she was like ‘what do you mean it’s gone we still have our papers you gave us’#and I was considering rewriting the campaign but fuck that#I’m not getting my heart broken again by them#anyway this turned into a huge rant#Didn’t mean for it too but I’m just so tired of her bs#and then if you’re ever like ‘hey maybe think about why your kids don’t want to spend time with you’#it’s the whole ‘obviously I’m a horrible mother I’m just so awful’ and then tears#also I do so much shit for her and hardly get a thank you#last night I spent like a half hour troubleshooting this Christmas light program she made#because something was being weird and I knew it was really important to her#not even one fucking thank you#like you could be a little appreciative but whatever I guess#ugh fuck I’m just over it
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
jealousy, jealousy (toji fushiguro x reader) + twt prn link
a/n: thank you for the support on my last two posts! i appreciate it so much! here’s some filthy toji action tho. i apologize again for any mistakes i'm always tired.
MINORS DNI
content warnings: age gap, sex toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, name-calling, recording, use of the names slut, whore, princess, and baby girl, possessiveness, size kink, teasing.
link
Having a much older boyfriend wasn’t for the faint of heart. Being a sophomore in college and dating a man who was in his late 30s proved to be challenging at times. Although he took care of your every single need and made sure you never went without. There were times when you couldn’t stand him.
He knew that dating a young woman in college would be hard. After all, you know what they say about college life. Toji was a possessive man and would do anything to show that you were his. Never mind the age gap between you two. When he found out that Gojo Satoru, a classmate that you were supposed to work on a project with, had asked you out it took every ounce of his being not to tear that man apart.
It didn’t help that you kept telling him that it didn’t mean anything and that his constant possessive behavior made you want to break up. It just ignited something in him.
Right now your boyfriend was towering over your smaller frame. It made you rub your thighs together. “So, you wanna break up do you?” He said in a low register. All you could get out was a meek ‘yes’. He laughed when he heard your response and his thumb found your chin. He forced your gaze to meet his.
It felt like he was burning holes in you with his eyes. You couldn’t even manage to make eye contact. “Look at me Doll.” A small tinge of anger was laced with his words. “No.” You knew he wouldn’t like your reply, but getting him frustrated was a part of the fun. “No?” He says and before you could even process what he had said he grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder.
“Toji! Put me down!” You banged your fists on his broad and strong back and it didn’t phase him one bit. He threw your smaller body on the bed and flipped you over. He wasted no time getting on top of you. You felt his hard cock on your ass. “I’m gonna give you one more chance to change that attitude.” He leans in and says next to your ear. “Fuck off.” You spit. Toji’s hand finds your ass and gives it a harsh pinch. “Stay right here, and don’t fucking move.”
At this point, you’re leaking, and despite wanting to get under Toji’s skin for irritating you, you know better than to move. You feel his body leave the bed and you hear some shuffling before he climbs back into bed and gets behind you. You look up and into the mirror in front of you. “Arch, now.” He demands and you oblige. “Good girl.” He smiles and grabs the dildo he had in hand. You watch as he reaches over your arched body and suctions the dildo to the mirror. “Suck it now.” “R-right now?” You stutter. “Did I stutter, Sweetie?”
Your lips press against the tip of the dildo and Toji watches as he palms himself with one hand and holds your phone in the other. “Don’t be shy now Princess. Show the camera how well you can suck cock.” Knowing you were on camera made you feel like jelly.
Your tongue swirls around the soft tip of the sex toy before you begin to move your mouth down the toy inch by inch. As every inch slides down your throat, slurping sounds fill the room as you struggle to take the thick length. “Poor Princess, I know you can take more. You take my huge cock every night.” He teases and rubs your ass, still recording.
Your throat relaxes around the inches before you take the remaining inches down your warm throat. “That’s a good girl.” Toji groans while pulling his boxers down. You make eye contact with your boyfriend in the mirror while you gag and choke on the fake cock. “Show Gojo how well you can suck cock.” That’s when you realize. Toji is recording this to send to him. The thought alone makes you want to pass out in embarrassment but also makes you hot.
Knowing this was going to your flirty classmate, you had to put on a show. You bob your head up and down the length while looking directly into the phone’s camera. Drool ran down your chin and fell onto the bed sheets. Your throat bulged and your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time you went down to the base. “So good at choking on cock. What a slut.” Your boyfriend mutters and pulls your skirt and panties down in one tug.
“Take it all, and stay there.” Toji uses his free hand to give his thick cock a few experimental pumps before lining it up with your dripping cunt. He shifts the focus of the camera down to where you two are about to be connected. “So fucking wet, all for me. No one else.” He hisses and shoves his entire cock in all at the same time. “God damn,” He groans. No words can escape your mouth that don’t sound muffled.
The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim with Toji’s cock was otherworldly. You cry around the sex toy that’s stuffed down your throat while Toji starts moving. His brutal thrusts make your lower half flash with pleasure every time he hits that sweet spot inside you. “My baby has the tightest little pussy, doesn’t she?” He says all while not slowing down one bit. “Oh wait, your mouth is full isn’t it?” He laughs. “Only I can make you feel this good.” His tone was so deep and laced with so much jealousy like you had never heard before.
The gagging and smacking sounds continued and it was all becoming too much. Toji would occasionally angle the camera downwards so Gojo could of course get a full view of his assault on your pussy, and make direct eye contact with you in the mirror while he made you gag and cry.
He noticed your body was beginning to show signs of giving out. “Aw, baby. Is it too much?” You nodded with your throat full. “You wanna cum don’t you Princess?” A muffled ‘yes’ was all that came out of your mouth while his tip kissed your cervix with each deep thrust. “God, I’m gonna cum to. Cum for me whore.” That was all you needed. Your knees shook and gave out while your orgasm washed over you and your boyfriend’s thrusts became sloppier. The now-soaking toy slipped from your throat as you melted into the bed.
“Fuck, I came so fucking much,” Toji says and pans the camera down to the mess he made all over your pussy and ends the video.
Send.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanfic#smut#x reader#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji smut#toji x reader#toji x you#fushiguro toji#toji zenin#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x self insert#toji zenin x reader#toji zenin x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro x reader#twitter links#jjk satoru#age g4p
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
brat tamer!ellie —> safety net
cw: smut mdni !!! degradation, spanking, binding, dacryphilia, spit play
ellie is a sweet baby angel at the end
oral + fingering (e receiving) strap (r receiving)
a/n: ellie and reader have a safe word and this is all completely consensual
“babe, have you seen my work folder? I can’t fucking find it anywhere and I’m gonna be late.” ellie is pacing frantically around your shared apartment, tugging at her hair in frustration.
honestly, you’ve been a little pissed at her. she hasn’t fucked you in five whole days because she’s been too busy and too tired from work. “nope, haven’t seen it.”
she stops in her tracks and looks at you dumbfounded, “well can you help me look for it?”
you groan and roll your eyes, noisily stomping around the apartment. you look between the couch and the wall, “found it!”
she runs into the room and takes it from you, “thanks, baby.” and leans in to kiss you.
ellie knowing your body language like the back of her hand, realizes that you barely kissed back and knows that something’s up. “what’s wrong?”
you avoid eye contact and shrug, “nothing.”
she places her middle and ring finger under your chin to direct your face back to her. “look at me, what is it?”
“it’s nothing! you’re gonna be late.”
her eyebrows raise, “if nothing’s wrong, then why the hell are you yelling at me?”
you can tell that her patience is running thin by the way she’s tapping her foot with her arms crossed against her chest. “ellie. just go to work.”
she lets out a heavy sigh, “fine. I love you, I’ll see you later.” you and ellie have a rule that you always say I love you before leaving the apartment, argument or not.
“love you too.” she looks at you for a moment and then turns on her heel to leave.
ellie returns home from work 2 hours late. let’s just say you’re more pissed than you were this morning. she lets out a yawn and goes to walk into your shared bedroom and observes you, laying in bed, reading a book. usually when she comes home, you greet her with a hug and a kiss, and now you’re acting as if she’s a ghost.
she’s too tired to dance around whatever passive aggressiveness you’re throwing at her. “wanna tell me what the problem is yet?”
“you’re home late.” you turn to the next page in your book, not even looking at her as she speaks.
she sighs and sits down next to you and gently takes the book from you, dog-earing the page and places it onto the nightstand. “I’m sorry baby, I have a huge deadline to meet.”
you finally look up at her; her tie loose around her collar with the first few buttons undone on her shirt, and belt unbuckled. you bite your lip as your eyes roam her body.
ellie, ever the observer she is, doesn’t miss how you’re basically drooling over her right now. “is that what your problem is?”
you look into her eyes, “huh?”
“huh? oh now you wanna look at me? don’t play dumb.”
you swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together. she places a hard grip on your thigh, spreading your legs apart, making you whimper. you can see the expression in her face harden, eyes darkening, slipping into that delicious role that you desperately need.
she chuckles and runs a hand through her hair. “you are fucking unbelievable. take your clothes off. now.”
ellie has you completely naked, perched over her lap with your hands bound together with her belt, having been spanked multiple times already.
“you know you really fucking pissed me off with your bratty attitude today.”
“I’m sorry.” you whimper. “oh, now you’re sorry? now you wanna be a good girl?” she grips onto both of your asscheeks hard, squeezing the fat between her fingers before her hand lifts and then whips down with a loud slap.
you let out something between a yelp and a moan and she laughs. you can feel the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
she leans down to look at your face, “gonna cry for me?” you can hear her breath getting heavy, eyes low as she observes your glassy eyes. she keeps her intense gaze on your face and your body tenses up in preparation, feeling the wind before her hand connects with your ass again.
tears spill from your eyes and she groans, “so pretty.” she leans back and rubs her hands softly over the marks before spreading you apart, eyes taking in your sopping cunt.
she chuckles, “you’re fucking soaked. such a pathetic slut for me.” you whine and try to squeeze your legs together but she grabs onto your thigh before you’re able to.
“isn’t that right?” you nod and she lightly slaps your cunt. your eyes roll back at the pleasurable sting, feeling more arousal leaking out of you. “words. use them.” “yes,” you whine.
“say it. say you’re a pathetic little slut for me.”
you take a moment to catch your breath and she slaps your cunt again. “I’m a p-pathetic little slut for you,” you cry out.
she hums and leans down to blow air on your cunt for relief from the sting, how kind of her. she sees your hole clench and she spits on it before teasingly sliding her tongue between your wet folds. you whimper and squirm in her lap.
“you think you deserve to get fucked?” she lightly brushes her thumb up and down your clit.
“yes, yes please.”
“please what?”
“please fuck me.” you breathe out.
she scoffs and chuckles. “too fucking bad, you’re gonna have to wait.”
suddenly, she’s hoisting your body up from her lap and pushing you to your knees. the abrupt movement has your wrists stinging from the belt tightly wrapped around them. she notices your wince and undoes the belt, kissing each wrist.
she pulls down her boxers and tosses them to the side and your eyes take in how wet she is. your thighs squeeze together in anticipation. “now, be a good girl for me and let me use that mouth.”
she grips your hair into a makeshift pony-tail and shoves your face into her cunt, immediately grinding against you. you moan into her and she grunts.
“acting like such a f-fucking brat because you wanna be treated like a whore.” she huffs out.
you nod against her, and suck hard on her clit making her hips stutter.
“can’t even c-come home from work without getting a fucking attitude from you.”
you brush your hand up her thigh before easing a finger into her. her pace falters for a moment, and her eyes roll back, letting out a moan. “oh fuck, yeah.. good girl. suck my fucking clit.” you moan into her from the praise and add another finger before increasing the pace of your thrusts, sucking harder onto her pulsing bud.
lewd squelching sounds fill the room from your fingers slamming in and out of her, and from your mouth greedily lapping at her.
“gonna be useful and make me cum?” she looks down at you with furrowed brows, eyes bouncing between yours and your mouth on her.
you look up at her, her gaze intimidating even in her vulnerable position, and you feel your arousal dripping between your thighs.
ellie shoves your face deeper, bucking her hips aggressively, loud strangled grunts spilling from her mouth. her head rolls back as she closes her eyes and bites her lip.
finally, her body tenses up and her shaky thighs squeeze around your head, clenching hard around your fingers. “oh f-fuck baby nghh. lick it all up and then, mphh, stick out your tongue,” she pants. you lap her up before curling into her hole, collecting all of her arousal.
you stick out your tongue, her cum dripping onto your bottom lip down your chin and she groans. “you look like such a slut with my cum all over your face. so pretty.”
she spits in your mouth, “now swallow.” you do as she says with no hesitation, and she strokes your cheek. “good girl.”
she swipes a thumb over your glistening chin and pops it into her mouth. sliding her hand down your arm and grabbing your hand, she takes your fingers and rolls her tongue over them, sucking them into her mouth, tasting herself. you let out a moan and she chuckles, “you like that, huh?”
you squeak out a ‘yes’ and she leans in to kiss you for the first time tonight. she grabs onto your jaw and slides her tongue against yours. you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, tugging on her hair, making her groan. she sucks on your lip and pulls back, both of you breathless.
“you did good.” she bites her lip looking down at your naked body and pinches your nipple, before pulling you up by your arm and bending you over the bed. “stay.”
“got anything else you wanna say to me?” ellie says pounding harder into you between each word. she pulls out fully and slams back into you, making you whine. your body gives out and she wraps her arm around your waist to hold you back up.
she leans down and places sloppy kisses behind your ear and neck to your cheek, “hm?” “n-no ellie.”
she chuckles, “fucking the attitude right out of you. just needed to be put in your place, huh?”
you moan and your legs start to shake, “mhmm I’m sorry.” you’re not sorry, you’re loving this right now, and ellie knows that.
she laughs, “no you’re not, you’re just a greedy slut. don’t fucking cum until I say so, got it?” her breathy, whispered tone contradicting her harsh words.
your mind is too far away, in a haze of euphoria, only distantly registering her words.
she stills inside of you, making you whine in protest. “you gonna answer when I’m talking to you baby?” she slaps your ass and pulls out before plunging back into you hard, making your eyes cross and arms give out, upper body falling flat onto the bed. you can feel her grinding against you for her own pleasure, waiting for you to answer her.
“yes! yes yes ellie,” you whimper, “I understand.”
she gently glides her hand from the base of your spine to the dip between your shoulder blades and leans over you completely, naked chest pressed against your back. angling your jaw to look at her, she studies you for a moment, before her lips attach to the curve of your neck, her teeth scraping against the soft skin. her tongue soothes the mark, and she tugs on your hair until your lips meet, sliding her tongue into your mouth and nipping on your bottom lip. “good girl.” you chase her lips when she pulls away and she chuckles, not giving you what you want.
ellie stands up fully and grips onto your hips, arching your back before slamming into you hard and fast. she watches your ass ripple with each thrust, “you’re perfect, fuck.” she mutters breathlessly.
“oh my god,” you gasp out, “s-so deep.”
“yeah? you like when I fuck you like this?” she changes her angle slightly, somehow going deeper than before.
“mmm ellie, please!” tears are rolling down your face.
“please what?” her pace never faltering. “please I wanna cum,” you whine. ellie wanted to take a picture, hold on to this breathtaking view of you below her.
“just sh-shut up and fucking take it. you can hold on a little longer.” she breathes out shakily, chasing her own orgasm, pounding into you harder and faster.
ellie’s grunts and moans start to turn more animalistic, slightly higher in pitch. she leans down and starts rubbing your clit in fast circles. “ellie ellie please I-I can’t.” you stretch your hand behind you in search of hers and she intertwines her fingers with yours.
“okay baby, cum for me.” your body starts to tremble violently. you moan into the sheets, seeing stars as you gush around the strap, gasping for air. ellie lets out a guttural moan, “fuck, yeah, good fucking girl.” she leans against you, hips slamming sloppily into you as her body shakes, succumbing to her own release.
when you come back to earth, ellie is immediately scooping you up into her arms, brushing the hair out of your face. your body is still trembling, breath still heaving as you come down from your high. “hey shh shh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay. you did so good for me.” she kisses you passionately and slowly. she places gentle kisses all over your face to help soothe you before leaning your head into her chest, rubbing your back in small circles. when you pull back to look at her, she smiles, stroking your cheek. “I love you, sweet girl. wanna go take a bath?” you nod and lean in to give her a soft kiss, “I love you too.”
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie tlou2#emmysfics#ellie williams the last of us#ellie the last of us#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x reader#ellie tlou#brat tamer!ellie#dom!ellie
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
bruises | k.mg
street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader
established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭
summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues
wc: 2.7k
you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.
a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.
“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.
he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.
“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”
you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.
“you shouldn’t be.”
“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”
“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“
“well i think you should stop.”
it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.
“what’s so fucking funny?”
“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”
“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”
“please y/n, it never goes that far.”
“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.
mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.
the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.
-
9:02 PM
(5) missed calls
gyu?
mingyu im sorry
are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?
please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((
a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.
he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.
“you leaving?”
mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.
when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.
he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.
you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.
“did he say anything to you when he left?”
“nah, he just walked out.”
oh. it was minghao.
“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”
mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.
“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.
“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”
“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.
“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”
his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.
“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.
“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”
you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.
“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.
“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.
“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.
“please, i want to.”
mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.
you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.
“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”
you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.
“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”
mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.
it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.
you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.
“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”
you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.
“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.
“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”
mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”
with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.
your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.
“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.
“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”
“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.
“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.
you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.
“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.
you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.
mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.
you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.
“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.
“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”
mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.
tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”
you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.
“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”
“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.
“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”
you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.
“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”
“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.
the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.
“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.
you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.
mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.
you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.
“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”
“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.
“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”
“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.
“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.
@gyusinning | thank you for reading!
#svt smut#svt x reader#mingyu smut#kim mingyu smut#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#mingyu x reader#mingyu x y/n#mingyu x you#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
i cant wait to leave this house lmao
#it's honestly not even that bad compared to some people I know#shit some of my friends have way worse situations that mine#but im so tired of having to take care of everything all the time#and being so sad and anxious and stressed#i just wanna be able to be a teenager and enjoy what little time I have left in high school#its not fair cause everyone around me gets to just be normal#even my own fucking siblings#whole time this seasonal depression is kicking my black ass and it feels like I cant even fully explain it to anyone#and i wanna cry about it but the tears literally wont come out lmao#so im listening to buttercup by hippo campus instead#which kinda helps ngl#but everything thats happened lately#idk ive been tryna stay okay for the past few years and between the depression and (likely) autism it's taking such a huge toll#i feel like my brain needs to throw up or something#even my best friend doesnt seem to get it and ik its not her job to provide me with therapy or anything and that shes trying#but i feel so fucking lonely lmao#and my moms birthday was this past Saturday so that was a thing#idk#i just wanna sleep for a really long time i think#cause rn i feel like my mental state is close to how it was freshman year and i actually don't think ill make it if i end up back there#lolz#anywhoo#im totally being dramatic its all good#lee rants#lee rambles
1 note
·
View note
Text
it’s senior year and you hate ellie williams. you hate the way she talks to you- the semi-texan drawl that comes out every time she teases you, grating against your ears and drawing heat to your face. you hate the way she cuts her hair- the fluffy layers of the mullet she cuts herself over the sink, so damn soft and attr— no. fuck. what are saying? you hate her, her and the way she stares at you every chance she gets: in class as you get into another fight with the teacher over yet another assignment set on a bullshit misogynistic book, from her bike as you avoid her gaze after school ends for the day and slam the door of your car so hard the tires bounce, from across the street in town as you accidentally meet her stare and tear your eyes away, praying desperately for the evil eye to land upon her. you hate her big dumb combat boots- the huge clumpy soles and ugly laces and the logo of a riot grrrl band you introduced her to stickered on the side, beginning to peel away from the surface. (really, you’re more pissed about the sticker than the boots.) you hate the way she reads your mind- god, you want to hit her. you hate her so much it makes you sick, it even makes you rhyme- “stop looking at me, you prick! suck my dick!” screamed angrily across the parking lot when you catch her staring. you hate the way she’s always right, like when she said she knew a little part of you found her smoking attractive even though you criticised her for it. you hate it when she lies- like when her head was squeezed between your thighs and her mouth was licking a firm stripe up to your clit and she swore you were heaven and she would never do anything to hurt you. you hate it when she makes you laugh- her flippant jokes at everything that make your lips tilt against your own will, heart racing faster as you bite back giggles. you hate it when she makes you cry. prom. what jesse said. the money. how she was paid to date you. ellie’s guilty face. how it was all a fucking act- but the worst part? is that even now, after you’ve sworn off ellie williams for good, you hate it when she’s not around. and that the thing you really hate is that after everything went down, she didn’t even call. but mostly, you hate the way you don’t hate her— not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
#well. sorry for this. you can all shout at me when the full fic happens. i need to stop starting new projects.#elliewilliams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#the last of us#ellie williams#ellie williams blurb
835 notes
·
View notes
Note
Dom poly marauders x sub reader who can’t take anything seriously and always jokes around (not being a brat, maybe, kind yes)
One of them is pounding into her and asks “Who’s pussy is this?” / “Who this pussy belongs to?” and reader replies with “It’s my pussy, but we can share.” / “It belongs to me but we can have shared custody if you want.”
And they can’t get mad at her with that because damn, she’s lying there, propped on her elbows and making them laugh while being irreplaceably sexy and pretty, suddenly they all slip from their serious role and have a sex with only dom/sub dynamic vibes
Ugh yes— plus I can see it as a constant teasing and so many punishments!!!!😵💫. Send me asks/thoughts/blurbs! Airport time!
18+, smut, poly!Marauders, Dom/sub relationships, mwah. Ofc not proofread.
︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ʚ♡ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
You moan around Remus' hard cock while you feel Sirius literally rearranging your guts from behind. They both groan in pleasure and mock you endlessly, calling you names, making fun of your blissed out state… anything to break you from that petty bratty attitude.
"What was that, whore?" Remus asks as he yanks your hair back, removing his cock from the back of your throat.
"We asked you a question" Sirius adds with a harsh slap on your thigh, making you yelp. "Who this fucking wet pussy belongs to?"
You smile, almost wickedly.
"It belongs to me, but I'm generous enough to share it with you, just don't ask for custody"
Remus rolls his eyes, huffing annoyed. He hates the passion you have to push their buttons. Sirius on the other hand, a big hothead, only takes your answer as an offense. His hand slaps your ass so hard, that the teasing grin on your face falls and your eyes water quickly.
"I swear you are gonna regret those words" He whispers, snapping his hips against you again, harsh, fast, over and over.
The door opens, and James walks in. He's holding his tie in one hand and looks tired, he hated to clean the trophies room. But the moment he sees you naked on Remus' bed, moaning against his thigh, drooling and getting your pussy completely ruined, he feels like a new man. He throws his tie to his bed and quickly starts to remove his clothes, smiling.
"What's the punishment today?" He asks.
"Bitch won't stop being a brat" Sirius groans, wrapping a hand around your neck.
"Is that true?" James tilts his head, taking a seat at the edge of the shaky bed and tracing one of his fingers on your back, fingertips sliding over the bite marks all over your skin.
"Not m–my fault Sirius is a pussy" You mutter, mischievously. "But I g—guess you are what you eat"
"So under that logic, you are a dick?" Remus laughs, anger already far behind. He yanks your hair and guides his cock to your mouth again.
You nod, sucking him dry. Your left hand sneaks under the covers to wrap itself around James' cock, already rock hard. He hisses in delight and lets his head back.
You take a moment to breathe, tears falling down your eyes. "I am a huge dick, so big even Sirius would be jealous of me"
James and Remus bark a laugh, almost coughing. Between moans and giggles, the air changes a bit. Sirius shakes his head and hold a laugh too. He can't believe you sometimes.
"Good fucking luck you are pretty as hell" Sirius says behind you, caressing your sides. "I should slap the shit of you for those words"
"You w–wont" You moan, challenging him. "Pussy"
"He won't but I will" Remus breaks in and squeezes your cheeks, making you raise your head a bit to look at him. The position is a bit uncomfortable and you can feel your neck sore at the effort. "You think you are so funny, maybe you are, maybe not. You should be grateful I even let you suck my dick"
You gasp, offended. "I am—"
"Shut up" He interrupts you. "I'll let this little bratty outbreak slide this time, this time only" He pats your cheek gently. "Now open up, gonna spit inside that filthy bratty mouth of yours"
︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ʚ♡ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
I know it sucks im a whore—
#omel is speaking!#omel's asks<3#remus lupin smut#sirius black smut#james potter smut#poly!marauders smut#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Minotaur husband with a crybaby wife.
Nsfw minors do not interact.
Crybaby wife that weeps at the sight of a dog with an injured leg trying to cross the pedestrian lane, so husband comes to rescue the puppy, and take it with you two, to help it cross the road.
Crybaby wife that cries when she spills the drink she prepared for her lovely husband, but ofcourse he wouldnt let her be that upset, so he offers
"I'll lick it off the ground if that makes you feel better my sweet.."
Cry baby wife that gets frustrated when she can't seem to get the right batter mixture for the brownie, weeping her eyes away, sweet husband comes to the rescue to hug her from behind <3
Wipes her tears, and combs her hair, tasting the brownie batter,
"it tastes as sweet as you my love"
Cry baby wife who's just so tired of not being able to take her husband fully, he's so huge, and you feel as though you're not enough for him.
"d..darling, you don't have to force yourself to take..it..all-"
Well too bad, you managed to fit some of his gigantic dick inside you. SOME. half of his cock buried inside you, you felt so stuffy inside, the burn of the stretch almost too painful
"oh god .. darling you will hurt yourse- fuck you're too tight.. too.. aah.."
So your ever so loving husband couldn't take it anymore, with the sight of you on top of him, those enchanting breasts, he holds your hips and proceeds to pound you against the half of his length, even though he was not fully seated inside you, this was enough.
Even with your scent alone, he could ejaculate already.
Cry baby wife who begs her husband to come, and so the obliging husband that he is..
"I know baby I know.. I'll give it to you, I'll give my all to you, take it all, take everything of me my darling.." while wiping those precious tears.
So.. it finally fit huh ahahaha
#size difference#male monster#monster bf#monster fucker#size k!nk#female reader#monster smut#submisive and breedable#minotaur#minotaur smut#big cook#crybaby#big tiddy wife
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
(Since you wanted me here so much! HERE I AM BESTIE!)
🍑For Sinful Sunday🍆
I am thinking about Hawks and well... he is a bird yeah?
So how about Hawks going into his spring season??? Him being all nice and sweet, giving his s/o little gifts, him LITERALLY building a nest... ONLY TO FUCK IN THERE FOR DAYS! Until his pretty mate is tired and full of seed to the point it's leaking out. Of cours it's not like he is done just yet 😏😏😏
(Hoenstly... idk what I am doing here! Love you gurl!)
SINFUL SUNDAY
Spring was the mating season for birds, and you could likely guess how it affected Keigo. During this time, he constantly felt a fiery heat, and his sexual desire became noticeably heightened.
"It's spring," he moaned. His hips surged forward, making you gasp around his thick shaft, his reddened tip hit the back of your throat again as you were giving him the head.
Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes as he began slamming his cock down your throat, his pace rough and rapid, almost primal.
Did he mean it was mating season? You had indeed observed other avian-like traits in him lately — those little trinkets he proudly displayed on his desk at work, the absent-minded whistling as he strolled through the office. Yet, you never thought mating season could be among them!
His words tumbled out hastily, almost strained, as if forming complete sentences was far beyond him. His rut had utterly consumed him. “Fuck, gonna cum soon.” His pace quickened as his entire length was being forced down your tight throat. His wings trembled and unfolded as he cum into your mouth.
The instant his taste met your tongue, an involuntary moan escaped you.
"Fuck, dove. I need you, right now," he growled, his lips brushing against yours as he helped you up to your feet. His hand ventured between you, shifting your underwear aside as two fingers delved into your dripping warmth. Another guttural growl escaped his lips. "Oh, fuck, I gotta fuck you. So incredibly wet," he murmured, pushing you down on the bed that looked rather like a huge nest with all those pillows and blankets, his hand wrapping around his aching cock, pumping it several times, gliding it between your slick folds to immerse it in your intoxicating wetness shortly after. Hawks aligned himself with your entrance, impelling himself entirely inside you with one fluid motion.
Your gasp of pleasure was truly a music to his ears.
He began pounding into you relentlessly, filling the air with an unmistakably lewd and wet squelching sounds. "Oh, oh, fuck!" He clung to your hips with an intensity that hinted at marks to come, and his fervent kisses trailed from your cheek down to the pulse point on your neck, each one growing increasingly passionate and sloppy. "You belong to me," he panted, his thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy. "All mine," his voice, drenched in overwhelming desire, reverberated with a deep, primal hunger.
Your cunt clinched against him as your head lolled back on the pile of pillows.
Hawks deftly angled his hips, hitting that spongy, sensitive spot deep within you, and in an instant, your climax devoured you. Your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing dick, creating a frothy white ring at the base. "Oh, Keigo, yes!"
This was sufficient to push him over the brink too. His hips spasmed against yours as he released his hot semen deep within you. "Ah, fuck! My sexy baby bird," Hawks grunted, laying on top of you. "Took all of my seed so well. Hope you'll get round with my offspring soon."
#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday#mha smut#bnha smut#my hero academia smut#anime smut#smutty smut smut#smutty blurb#asked and answered#sinful sunday anon#anonymous#divider by cafekitsune#hawks smut#keigo takami smut#keigo takami x reader#hawks x reader#hawks x reader smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hellooo <3 I love your writing so much, please take care of yourself and have a nice, nice day!
Can I request Scara smut, where reader and Scara are about to get it on but then she gets very shy as Scara undresses her.
Basically like him praising her and like soft smut.
If that's not too self indulgent - thank u thank u thank uuu!
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Soft, very romantic smut. Praise.
Please, and this counts for everyone, don't be afraid sound too self indulgent. My whole blog is self indulgent. This whole thing will be self indulgent ❤️
Scaramouche absolutely enjoys the intimacy of kissing. There was just this deep connection that came with it. His tongue curling around yours, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, the way your arms wrapped around him to press your body up against his as hands hastily worked to remove clothes.
He reluctantly pulled away from a kiss that was rapidly making you weak in the knees to tug your shirt over your head. Immediately, a shy blush coated your cheeks as his hand slipped back to unclasp your bra.
"So cute," He purred, curling his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so you would look at him. His fingers traced up the dips in your spine. "Keep that expression on your face while I undress you," He loves that you never got over how shy you felt when he was taking off your clothes.
A huge turn on for him.
He took his time removing the rest of your clothes, his lips grazing softly on your neck. The sensation never failed to make goosebumps rise up on your skin, a soft moan sounding from you as you relaxed into his touches.
Scaramouche could feel you melting, his hands sliding along your body. His cock pulsed seeing you shiver. "So responsive," He pressed a hungry kiss on your lips again, gently pushing you down onto the bed.
You wore the same shy expression as you watched him remove his clothes. Did you have any idea how delicate that made you look?
His hand caressed your cheek, his thumb skimming gently across it. "Let me make my pretty girl feel good," He captured your lips in another passionate, open mouthed kiss. The way you obediently opened your mouth for his tongue, soft moans breathing against his mouth sent him absolutely reeling.
He spread your legs, caressing the inside of your thighs before seeking out your clit. He pressed and rubbed his thumb around the swelling nub, his eyes trained on the way your body quivered in pleasure.
Your hips rocked into his fingers as they stroked between your folds. "That's my good girl, just let go and relax," He encouraged, gently pinching and rolling your clit between the pads of his fingers until you saw stars.
You writhed on the bed, pleasure jolting through your body as you grasped the sheets in your hands. The look in your eyes was one of hazy desperation and need.
A look that always made Scaramouche's cheeks flush with endearment for you. Nobody looked at him the way you did. No one needed him the way that you did.
"Scara, please," You said in a shaky tone, spreading your legs a little wider for him, "I need you inside me," Your pussy was starting to clench around nothing thanks to his ministrations. Your whole body trembled with need.
"As you wish, kitten," He never got tired of hearing even the haze that laced your voice with desire. He pressed the head of his cock against your throbbing clit, tearing a gasp from you. Your hips jerked to seek more friction in response.
Scaramouche let out a low, satisfied groan as he pushed his cock inside of you. "So warm, so tight," He bottomed out with a smooth, slow thrust, "so fucking perfect," His body shuddered in pure bliss.
Your walls clamped tight, and sensitive around his cock, the head kissing into your sweet spot in a way that made your toes curl. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as he leaned down to kiss you.
His lips never left yours, swallowing each and every sweet moan you offered him. You wrapped your legs around him, helping him push his cock as deep inside of you as it could go. "I love you," He said, pulling away for a moment in a show of vulnerability, "I love you so fucking much."
You put one of your hands on the back of his head, bringing it down for another kiss. His lips greedily captured yours, holding you against him like someone was going to take you away from. He couldn't ever let that happen.
Ever.
The bursts of pleasure were so intense that you could barely form any words. Scaramouche was worshipping you with every thrust, every squeeze and soft caress of his hands. He was utterly lost in the way you lost yourself in him.
"Cum inside, please," You pleaded, making him groan huskily, "I love you, Scara. I love you so much," Any other words you tried to form died in your throat, your moans bleeding into his husky ones.
Those four words never failed to make him cum. His arms tightened around you, craving to hold you closer than you already were as cum ribboned into you.
"Fuck," He hissed, nipping at your lower lip, "cum for me," He thrust his cock into your sweet spot until he ushered in your orgasm, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. The way your cunt squeezed around his cock as your orgasm broke over you was nothing short of utter bliss for him.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you
559 notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
#ACLA24#ACLA24Leaders#youtube#youtube video#climate leaders#climate solutions#climate action#climate and environment#climate#climate change#climate and health#climate blog#climate justice#climate news#weather and climate#environmental news#environment#environmental awareness#environment and health#environmental#environmental issues#environmental justice#environment protection#environmental health#Youtube
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Simmer #3
CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu
[4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too.
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon.
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago.
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne.
It was easy. It was simple.
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar.
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel.
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter.
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge.
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun.
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue. “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink.
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted.
The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out.
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up.
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand.
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down.
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore.
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette.
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress.
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before.
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain.
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of.
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers.
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting.
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast.
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.”
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land.
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening.
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out.
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him.
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue.
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away.
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology.
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter.
“You got a crush, my friend?”
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer.
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket.
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal.
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices.
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach.
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both.
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago.
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship.
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor.
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked.
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different.
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew.
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier.
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne.
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone.
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed.
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson drabble#linecook!eddie
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
anytime
javier peña x f!reader
summary: “Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.
Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing the place where the hair sits atop his lip. “Anytime, cariño.”
“Anytime, really?”
wordcount: 3.1k.
warnings: fluff. bestfriends to lovers. banter. reader wears a dress and has a gloss on lips. no physical description. javi calls reader solecito as a nickname only. likely warnings for spelling as i wrote this on my phone.
an: huge thanks to @wildemaven for creating this moodboard (pls go show it some love), letting me make a banner from it, and then letting me write this for Javi instead of Frankie. bby, i hope you like this.
Javi had never been good at avoiding challenging situations.
For the longest time, he’s been finding himself in the centre of a whirlwind—whether in Bogotá, Cali or apparently even back home.
You, his friend, best friend—a well-kept secret, tucked away in his chest, not shared with a soul when he was away. You were a thing that he’d clutched close to his chest from the moment the two of you had first gotten close, through his failed engagement and even more so when he left for Colombia. You, in all your understanding, hugging him, telling him he’d be great, amazing, the very best.
Both of you were younger then, less worn down by life, its many obstacles and all the other things.
You best not become best friends with anyone over there, Peña.
As if anyone could annoy me as much as you, solecito.
In the brief interim of his return, you hadn’t appeared all that different. You may have had a job, a house—drove a slightly better car than when the two of you were staying out at all hours—but you, at your core remained very much the fucking same.
Still just as understanding, as kind. A person who got him, without really needing to try.
For Javi, the best thing—outside of you being you and the monthly calls you made him promise to keep when he was drowning in murder, drugs and Escobar—is that you never ask him about it. Any of it.
You had always let him pretend, escape, listen to you fill him in on gossip—things such as disagreements over the size of rhubarb and whether someone was having an affair. A thing you did even when he came back. Even more grateful for it then, when he grew tired of the questions, the compliments, the everything.
Its why he didn’t tell you when he would land back in Laredo for good. Just waiting, standing outside your place, leaning against your car as you walk down the street—eyes brushing over him, pausing, before he gets to see that smile. That signature fucking smile.
When he’d left the first time, he remembers how you’d lingered near your car, unwilling to climb into your bright yellow death trap—the entire reason he called you solecito to begin with—wearing the beginnings of that smile even then.
The difference is now he knows that there was something under it. Hidden, held back, kept from him.
It’s why it meant so much to him when he saw it in all its glory, all alight, blooming and somehow healing.
He can’t explain it, but it repairs strands inside of him. Your presence alone continuing to do so when he meets you for lunches, coffees, and late-night drinks. In exchange, he makes you laugh, your head thrown back as he tells you about whatever he did on the ranch—all of it comical, apparently. Because the idea of him, Javier Peña doing ranch work brought tears to your eyes.
“You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous?” you splutter, taking a mouthful of your beer as you narrow your eyes.
Nodding, he leans back into the booth, arm stretched out, picking and picking—the label crumbling from the sweating bottle. “Yeah. Bet you’re upset you don’t get to see me herd cattle and mend fences.”
“Oh, yeah. One-hundred-percent.”
Shrugging, he grins—an easy task with you. A thing that has always been that way, even when he turned up at your door when he couldn’t get married; even when the two of you sat under the stars when he told you about possibly going to Colombia. You still made him grin—even when things weren’t fucking easy at all.
“I’ll add it to my to-do list—visit Peña on the ranch—it’s currently sat under finding a dress, a boyfriend and the will to fucking live.”
Snorting, he traces his bottom lip with his thumb.
Your face scrutinises him, before rolling your eyes. And he just waits—because you always spill eventually.
One. Two. Th—
Fine, you huff, before it unravels from you. How the wedding of your work colleague is close, closer than I thought and you’re tired of attending these things alone, circled like a fucking fish by single sharks.
And he’s listening, taking it in. Trying to not wince at how high-pitched you’ve got as you’ve ranted.
Mainly, Javi finds there’s more questions rising than answers provided.
One singular one rising to the top. A thing he’s wanted to ask for the last few weeks. Not in a rude way, or in the way it burns inside his chest when he talks to you on the phone and he has to bury it. But, it’s there, bubbling, wishing to escape and know. It's even louder when the two of you are like this, crammed in a space, laughing, smiling, sharing, wondering—
Why are you even single? How are you?
You’ve mentioned people—names, here and there when the two of you had been on the phone. Them fluttering out before you can pull them back, but then they’re forgotten. Javi, I get one call a month—let me tell you about the cattle war going off. And, in a way, he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know, so he never asked.
Now, it’s all he wants to ask.
Because you’re… you. You’re brilliant, beautiful—funny, clever, witty. And yet—
“—so, now it’s a week out, and I need to find a dress, a date and drive there to watch another person I know get married.”
He knows he should busy his mouth with the bottle—wrap his odd idea in beer. But, that part of him—the one which wants to help, solve issues, and be useful—rises up in him like a phoenix left from the ashes of Colombia.
“I’ll go with you.”
He expects the pause, even braces for the look of shock.
He doesn’t expect the smirk. Doesn’t expect the way it spreads out, to hit your eyes. How under the low-bar light over the table, it makes your eyes glimmer and fucking shimmer.
“You want to go to a wedding with me?”
Shrugging, he picks off the last part of the label—the mess of it all circling around where the glass meets the wood.
Mirroring him, you shrug. “Alright.”
“Alright.”
He should take his eyes off you, but he finds he can’t.
Javi hasn’t been able to since you stepped out of your place, a handful of your dress as you locked up—stepping down your steps to his car, letting it flutter down to your ankles.
You look like a fucking dream.
A thought he knows he shouldn’t have—but has all the same. His heart staggered, half-halting in its hammering as his hands paused in their drumming on the steering wheel; his glasses slid down his nose, his skin suddenly warm all over, even if his jacket was already splayed out across the backseat.
Close your mouth, Peña.
I’m chewing gum, solecito.
Yeah, that’s why your mouth is open.
It hadn’t passed his notice that you were good-looking before today. He’s known you were, had always known it—he had eyes, after all. But, he’d always felt there was a line. A line the two of you never delved too close to step over. The sign above both of your heads already illuminated in bright bulbs and flashing lights:
JUST FRIENDS.
Until this, anyway. This thing that can only be described as the longest one-hour drive he’s ever been on. And he used to do recon with Murphy.
Because you’re teasing, taunting him. All in that usual way that you do. And it’s so easy to flirt back, to let line after line roll, but he has begun to spot you squirming.
Doing so while matching his suit in a deep brown shade—chosen by him, ‘pick a colour suit, Javi’. Adding a tinge to some of your comments—things that if said by someone that wasn’t you, he’d ask them (flirtingly) if they were coming on to him.
But with you, it’s something he can never be sure. Never something that can be completely understood, known, cracked or figured out. In the same way, he can’t understand how your perfume keeps following him. How it embeds itself into the cabin of his truck when he picks you up, sews itself into his clothing when the two of you meet—and right now, is attempting to bury itself in his skin, muscles, and bones.
“You’ve been abnormally quiet.”
Smirking, he snorts. Fingers smoothing out his hair as he swings into a spot—the tyres crunching over the gravel. “Have I? Or have you just not shut up.”
“Rude.”
Laughing, he cuts the engine—hands resting on the top of his thighs, not missing the way your eyes follow his movements before clearing your throat. It shifts something in him, makes a little part of him surge, like the smallest of fireworks suddenly erupting in his chest.
Something he forces himself to shut down the moment you shove open your door, slipping out, as he grabs his jacket.
“Do I need to be worried about you crying today, solecito?”
Rearranging your dress, and slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you squint as you stand tall, hand covering your brow as you meet his gaze.
And fuck, with this backdrop, even squinting, you look beautiful, radiant, stunning all over again. Somehow his brain having forgotten when you were next to him, when you were acting as if this was the most normal fucking thing they’ve ever done.
It isn’t.
Something he’s becoming more aware of as his throat goes dry, and his thoughts slow to nothing—
“No, you’re good. Your mouth is open again.”
You say it with a smirk, all teasing—making heat lick up his spine all over again. And, if you were anyone else, he’d have already pulled you close, tilted your chin up, and likely smothered your mouth with his.
But, you’re his friend—his best friend. The one solid thing he’s had in his life since he became a name, a poster, a hero.
“C’mon,” you say, turning on your heel as you head in the direction of the entrance, him following, jacket slipping on as he mutters mouth isn’t fucking open under his breath.
Even if he knows it was. Even if he’s desperately trying to stop his eyes from descending down to your hips, eyes fixated on the way you walk with ease to the wooden sign which greets all the guests.
He knows, due to his absence from home, there haven’t been many weddings he’s attended. Least of all like this. But even he thinks this is over the top, suddenly understanding why you hadn’t wanted to come alone. Because grand doesn’t quite cover it—not after the last one he’d attended.
This one has flickering candles lit in the day, waiters all set to hand glasses of bubbles and offer little mouthfuls of flavour on silver trays. Then, there’s the backdrop—the enormity of the building, only for you to tell him that it’s an outside wedding.
It’s more of a comfort as to why his hand drops to the small of your back than anything else. A need to be rooted, to feel calmer as he nods at passing people he doesn’t know (and hopes don’t know him), feeling you curl into him subconsciously, your bag swinging between the two of you both—affording a gap, forcing it, in fact.
The ceremony will start soon.
He overhears it, as he assumes you do, because your fingers wrap around his wrist—taking it from your back, before your palm meets his, and then you’re guiding, leading. Dragging him. All willingly to the back of the building where he sees it—the makeshift aisle. A wooden arch, and lots of deep orange-brown chairs all line up on either side of an orange aisle.
“Glad we chose brown now,” he murmurs.
“Does it make you think, y’know—being at a wedding?”
He swallows. Because it’s a loaded question.
One he assumes has been sitting all politely on the tip of your tongue since you sat beside him in his vehicle. It’s why his eyes watch you carefully as you grab the two of them a flute each from a passing waiter. Handing it to him, adding nothing—not rescuing him. Just waiting instead, doing that thing you do, where your eyes widen as you wait, trying to look all innocent even though it’s you who has just dropped a live grenade into the centre of the conversation.
Shaking his head, he snorts. “No. Not really. Knew… I knew deep down it wasn’t right. Her… and me.”
“You got any idea what’s right?”
You take a sip this time when the question lands, it again sparkling in glittered innocence, the softest of smiles pressed against the glass.
You he thinks. But he swallows that away and says ‘Not a fucking clue’ instead.
Throughout the day, he’s been desperate for a reason to stop looking at you.
So far, he’s found none.
Bits and pieces of things Murphy used to say, the words he’d drop into conversation when talking about his wife: how he knew, why she was the one, all coming back to him in drips and drops.
It dawns on him, the same as it had done since before he went to Cali, that you might mean a little more than a friend. A lot of what Murphy used to say, so easily applied to how Javi felt about you.
You make him feel calmer, create a space where he can relax, really unwind. It’s easy, uncomplicated, when he’s with you—from the conversation to the things he thinks. Complex balled thoughts stretch out until they’re in easy-to-decipher lines, able to process, able to understand.
He even told you about the boats.
A secret he’d have been prepared to take to the grave, if not for the fact you pointed out he wasn’t sleeping. Your eyes watching, pleading, don’t lie to me. And fuck, he couldn’t—not even if he wanted to.
That should have been the first sign.
He guesses he should be thankful today has been stuffed with more of them. One after the other. From the way you made sure to make him a plate of only his favourite things, to the way you knew when he needed a bit of space from the thousand questions as to how you both knew one another, and what he does.
Now, Javi is on the sidelines, admiring you in a way that makes his heart double in size.
Your dress skims around your calves as you dance—your arms rising above your head, glee stitched itself from cheek to cheek. On occasion, time halts when your eyes land on his—stealing whatever thought he had, only resuming normality when you close your eyes, belting out the lyrics to the song.
Mainly, the thought he finds which keeps returning is: I wanna do this with you again. any place. any time.
A hollowness scratches out in his chest as he lets himself acknowledge it. A thickness growing in his throat, a sorrowness weighs down on his shoulders as he nurses his glass—hand in his trouser pocket, telling himself he should be content he got to be on your arm, got to have you against him during a slow dance over an hour ago. That he gets to see you smile, hear your laugh—even know you.
“Hey, Peña.”
“Hey solecito.”
You grin—a little breathless, the music having changed, becoming slower, softer—wrenching the glass from his hand as you drain it.
“Fuck me. Y’thirsty?”
“Very. You’d know if you had any rhythm.”
He pinches you, lightly—teasingly. Your grin shifts into a laugh, tucking yourself in against him, arm around his back. And fuck, the way you’re looking up at him, he wants to warn you.
If you look at me like that, I’m going to kiss you.
Javi wonders what you’d do if you did. Whether you’d pull away, hissing the two of you are friends. Or whether you’d kiss him back.
“Want to get some fresh air?” you ask, your words against his ear—lips so close to ghosting his skin.
“Sure.”
It’s cooler when the two of you step out from under the marquee, the music getting quieter when your fingers loop in his, guiding, easing him around plant pots and tall trees, until the two of you are descending marble stairs and past iron fencing, to take him to the perimeter, to the view looking out over the city.
He watches as you step forward, fingers around the iron fencing, leaning, staring out as you let out a heavy sigh. One laced with things he wants to ask for, tug it from you, let you unload whatever is weighing on you—because that’s what you both do for one another.
You make it easy.
Make it all bearable.
But, whether you mean to, or not, you shiver. A light one, barely noticeable by most—but he isn’t most. His fingers are already at the button, undoing it, sliding his jacket down his arms before he places it over your shoulders, watching your head turn, meeting his gaze.
“You look really pretty.”
Flicking your eyes down, you smile. Sweetly. Unreadably. “Well, you’ve always been pretty.”
“Pretty?”
Laughing, your fingers tug his jacket closer, burying yourself in it. “The prettiest, Javier.”
Leaning beside you, he feels the metal from the railings, you’re both resting on, cut into his palms. He wonders if you feel the same, your dress billowing in the gentle breeze as the two of you stare off into the distance, spotting the flickering lights of a city, of homes tucking in for the night.
Then he turns his head, finding you already watching him, studying him in a similar way as you were before.
And, he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. A sign. A signal. It’s not the first time, usually, he does so when you’re not looking, letting himself trace the curve of your lips. Now, he stares at the way your gloss has long since gone, left behind on glasses and straws.
“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.
Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing where the hair sits atop his lip.
“Anytime, cariño.”
“Anytime, really?”
Nodding, he swallows. A thousand things he’s thought, and felt, all rushing to the surface—unwilling to bury itself, to descend under the usual guilt and feelings of inadequacies when it comes to you.
“I’d do anything for you.”
Smirking, you tilt your head. “Anything?”
Biting your lip, he feels it—something thrumming in him, being plucked.
“Will you kiss me?”
“I could…”
Your brows rise, a louder cheer coming from inside, but it doesn’t do anything to tear your eyes away from the other.
The whole world could slowly vanish from around the two of you, and all he’d want is just to stare at you.
“But?” you ask, delicately.
Almost so softly, it makes his chest ache.
Dipping his head, he lets his gaze wash over the place again—the rolling land, the trees, the houses in the distance.
“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
You slide closer, shoulder to shoulder, eyes scorching his jaw, his neck, the side profile he can feel you tracing with your gaze.
“Then don’t,” you say.
His neck almost cracks with the quickness of his movement, his eyes scanning, reading, a part of him wanting to step back, and protect you. Because he’s not sure about the parts of him you’d find easy to love—
“You don’t know what you’re—“
“Don’t care,” you interrupt, fingers twitching on the lapel of his jacket. “I know you—Javi, not Agent Peña. I know the boy who cloud-watched with me when my parents wouldn’t stop fighting; I know the man who told me to stop sending him postcards from the town shop—but also whispered that he liked them.”
Snorting, he smiles.
“So, if you want to, no pressure—but, I think you should kiss me.”
“Yeah?”
Nodding, you bite your cheek. “Think you’ve wasted a lot of time not kissing me already, honestly.”
Of course you do, he thinks. And then he kisses you, palms on your cheeks, slanting his mouth over yours.
And fuck, it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever done.
an: honestly, this made me so fucking happy to write.
#javier peña x reader#javier pena x reader#javi peña x reader#javi peña x you#javier peña x you#narcos x reader#javier pena x you#javi pena x reader#narcos javier x reader#narcos javier#pedro pascal x reader#narcos fanfiction#pedrostories#mm: late night texts#javier peña fanfiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
do you have any thirst hcs for grandpapi neuvi? if you do pls share i’m so hungry 🤲
hydro dragonussy [m.reader]
hello hello, guess who’s back to writing again? this is a warmup because i struggled hard in continuing my kaveh request wip and a buncha scenarios for sick reader w genshin men and jing yuan all at once. on second thought… i think i really shouldn’t have written everything all at once. not to mention i’m trying out quotev to publish my yandere oc/m.reader stuff for fun. + yes that is the title. it’s either that or crybaby old man dragon thirsts. you pick.
𖦹 nsfw, neuvi is a virgin old man, underlying mentions of reader being an attorney (we all know i have a bias for them anyway, have you seen my workload series? lmao), switch male reader, switch neuvi, though we’re heavily leaning on bottom neuvi for this one, honorable mentions of cockwarming and thigh fucking, brief mention of double penetration (reader receiving), gentle and rough sex, implied dacryphilia (you), breeding, fontaine rains whether or not he’s sad, his tears are the rain and i will drink them like a hungry eremite in the sumeru desert.
Let’s face it, Neuvillette has no time outside of his work as the Iudex of Fontaine, he’s constantly buried underneath those paperworks, and on top of that, when he’s not tackling mountains of cases, he’s out in the opera, presiding trial after trial when the Oratrice can already do the same thing for him.
So when you appeared in his life all of a sudden, he was new to all sorts of things. In his long life as a dragon, he has had little experience in what you can offer to him. He’s awkward for the first few moments of your relationship.
It’s the same to sex — you’d have to take initiative in every single little thing, show him the ropes like the good commander you are, and he obeys with no complaints. He sees that you enjoy it, and if you’re good at it and you’re willing to teach him, he is an obedient patient.
Old man’s heads are very clumsy at first, teeth scraping against your length while he slowly but surely bobbed his head. He’s slow, but he treats your little guy with so much care. Looking up at you with tears pricking at the ends of his eyes as he tried to please you as best as he could. Obligatory weather report — it’s a light drizzle in Fontaine.
But when you give him head, Neuvillette squirms, it doesn’t matter where he is, he could not keep himself still. It’s always obvious that even you cannot bring yourself to blow him semi-public in his office, just because you’re afraid a poor innocent little Melusine would come inside and see their beloved leader squirming around traumatize them. It would also be bad for his image if you guys get caught, so… sexy times are inside the comfort of his possibly huge home as much as possible.
Sex with him is slow and intimate, very romantic. What did you expect? He’s from Fontaine and they apparently love to romanticize things. Whether or not who’s on top when you guys are doing it, they are a lot more languid in style, like a moment of relaxation between the two of you.
A switch, though preferably a bottom. Yes, that’s right, old man Neuvillette likes to be serviced. He likes it when you’re the one filling him up so good. It’s hot and heavy, just the way he likes it.
He’s a tired man, so he’s definitely a pillow prince— no, a pillow king. He lays there and takes it like a good boy, only gazing at you with those soft eyes, hazy with love and lust while you continued to push into him. He takes your hand in his every time you enter him and he always squeezes your hand tight the deeper you go in.
Call him romantic and a basic man, but he lives for missionary. He wants to see you while he feels you stuff him full of your cock. He only writhes in the beginning while he tries to adjust around you, squeezing you tight inside him while his breath stutters, trying to take you in all at once.
If he’s the one in charge, it’s all the same, he’s gentle with his actions, though, honestly, he’d rather have you ride him instead. He likes to see you in all your glory, with you rolling your hips in such a needy manner while he kept you grounded, holding onto you as he caressed your thighs. It’s perfect for him.
Oh yeah, and this goes without saying — he’s a dragon, so he has two cocks. Fitting him in is a sport on its own, but you graduated with a major in fucking dragons, so you’re good. He’s a bit thicker on the side too, so each time you take him in, you could feel every inch of him, and every throb of his cocks is a heaven sent feeling that courses through your insides.
Please be gentle with him, he is an old tired man who hasn’t had a break. He is so vanilla that it’s boring but his cries are worth it.
He’s a very quiet man too, his moans are shy and light, a gasp here and there and a tiny whimper with every increment of speed adding into your thrusts.
Neuvillette is definitely the type to squirm and get away from you at first, but you just need to keep him still and hold him down by his thighs before you plow into him. He likes it though when you do it, it reassures him that you want to do this with him and that you’re not letting him go no matter what happens.
Another weather report: a good light rain. Not too heavy.
Now that all the sweet stuff is out of the way, rough sex is not as often as the usual vanilla one, but it’s not completely an uninvited guest between you two.
If you fucked him rough and hard, Neuvillette will cry and break. His poor pristine and unmarked body, filled to the brim with your greedy bite marks and hickeys, glowing red and bruising dark purple that leaves him embarrassed when they’re still around if you somehow managed to weasel in a rough session in the morning before he goes to work and you will be reprimanded for it once he’s home, no exceptions.
“No more of these obvious markings,” he’d say with a stern tone, only to end up face down on the pillow with his ass up while you found a loophole and devoured his entire back instead.
He hates that he can’t see you when you go rough on him, because it’s normally him ending up with his face buried into his pillow while he laid on his stomach, his hips being held up by you while you ruthlessly pounded into him without even an ounce of mercy.
He hates it, but at the same time, it does help with keeping his noise down because when you’re doing him so roughly, Neuvillette wails, he cries hard, with those pretty tears of his not letting up. He’d scream to the high heavens and were it not for the fact that your hand was forcing his head down into his soft pillow, the entirety of Fontaine would hear it.
Again, Neuvillette is a tired old man, so something so rough definitely leaves him drained, you’d constantly have to hold him up halfway through your little session.
Fucking him while he’s on his side and his one leg hooked over your shoulder is a great compromise, with how you can both still see each other Neuvillette can immediately turn his head to hide away into his pillow when he realizes he’s being a little too loud on his own good.
He’s definitely the kind to force himself to be quiet. If you fuck him without anything for him to bite into to hide his loud noises, he will cry and be embarrassed through out, barely even managing to cover his own mouth with his hand without an ounce of struggle while his body jerked up and down, following through every harsh punctuated thrust that you made into him. Weather report: Fontaine has a storm.
Neuvillette cries his heart out every time you go rough, full on sobbing and it is such a turn on. The way he makes garbled noises while he would protest into your roughness, hand gently pushing into yours while he asks for you to be gentler and go a little slower, only to cling helplessly into his pillow when his pleas fell into deaf ears.
His tears are just… divine. He cries so prettily and he does it with unwitting grace and class — somehow, he’s just innately beautiful in every thing that he does. There is no such thing as an unsightly sobbing to this man.
Neuvillette makes this soft noise in between a whimper and a gasp every time you hit his prostate spot on and he just shudders in delight, his breath shaky until he can barely think straight.
Gentle or rough, he’s definitely into breeding. Neuvillette has a breeding kink and anyone who thinks otherwise will sink deeper than Khaenri’ah. Stuff him full of your cum and he’s a happy and satisfied man.
It’s not just the feeling of your hot seed pumping him full that pleases him, but being around the Melusines, treating them like his children despite them being just his subordinates has definitely gotten this old man all too paternal. He likes the premise of being able to build a family with you, and he will nurture your children with all his being.
Thigh fucking? Thigh fucking. Though it’s rare, only when he’s really tired but still aches to please you, and even you’re too lazy to move a lot.
Bother him when he takes work at home by making him cockwarm you. He could not concentrate at all — squirming and squeezing around your cock so deliciously while you teased him about getting his work done.
Has definitely tried wall sex with you, with his back against the wall while you held him up. May or may not have happened at the opera after a heated trial when he ruled against your client and you were pissed your streak of wins on that week crumbled into dust. It’s neither your fault but the client’s, but you’re a sore loser and Neuvillette is a stoic judge.
Call him daddy while you fuck into him and he will break, he’ll go slack, his mind numbed when a rush of dopamine just infiltrated his brain every time you’d call him that.
And after all that, aftercare is a must. Treat your dragon well. He did so much for you, and you broke his old man back after fucking him into oblivion. Clean him nice and well, kiss his tears away, and wrap him tightly in a blanket while you hold him.
#I AM#somewhat alive#i honestly planned on posting more works soon if i didn’t hit the classic ‘wow i suck’ moment#i have been doing nothing but scroll though yt shorts help 😭#also play genshin and hi3 because hsr has no content until 30#jhuzen’s stupid hcs#jhuzen’s shameless filth#genshin impact x male reader#sub genshin#sub genshin impact#sub neuvillette#neuvillette x male reader#neuvillette smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
eenkist
EENKIST
wist-eri
still a green bean enthusiast
pizza-and-the-half-slice
Pizza & the Half Slice
generalmarketresearch-blog
Untitled
dumgorl
dumgorl