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#I was trying to change his expression and the moment I raised the eyebrows it just hit me
mothhball · 3 days
Note
for your drabbles requests: either jonathan or neil with a girlfriend on her period? i'm definitely projecting bc i'm on mine, but...whatever. maybe a little smutty if period sex doesn't gross you out? 😋
HOME REMEDY
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Pairing | Jonathan Crane x  fem!Reader
Warnings | SMUT, PERIOD SEX, p in v sex, established relationship, pronebone
Summary | you’re going through it. Lucky for you, you have a very helpful boyfriend
Words | 1.7k
Notes | Thanks for the request!!! I hope this doesn’t feel too rushed <3
MINORS DNI
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"You look like you're trying to melt into the carpet," Jonathan muses, leaning against the couch with his hip as he watches your sprawled-out form on the floor. You groan in response, almost getting comfortable before another cramp makes you wheeze and turn onto your side so you can curl up.
"Maybe I am..." you grumble, placing your hands over your lower stomach in an attempt to soothe the pain. Jonathan walks over to gently nudge your leg with the side of his foot, and for a moment you feel like roadkill that he's searching for signs of life. Then again, you really do feel like someone hit you with a car.
"It's bad today, huh? Come on, let's get you more comfortable." You work together as a team to peel you off of the floor, and his hands are gentle as he leads you into the bedroom.
"Are you up for a massage?"
It's almost embarrassing how quickly your eyes light up at the offer, and he huffs out a chuckle. Your expression is answer enough, so he preps the space and puts a towel onto the mattress to prevent the oil from getting everywhere. Once he's done, he steps close to you for a quick squeeze, and as his arms are wrapped around you, he murmurs into your hair. "I'll go get you the cherry pit pillow, just lie down." You nod in response, reluctantly stepping back from the comfort of his body against yours to sink down onto the mattress, rolling over to lie on your stomach. The bedroom is quiet and warm, and the sheets still smell like your favorite detergent since you just changed them yesterday. For a moment, you’re lost in thought before another burst of pain makes you grimace.
The distant beeping of the microwave signals the impending arrival of pain relief, and you turn your head just in time to watch Jonathan pop his head into the room with a quirked brow and the warm cherry pit pillow in his hands. “Still alive? Good. I would’ve been annoyed if I did all this for nothing.” A smile tugs on your lips, and you gratefully take the pillow from him, placing it under your stomach so you can lie on it. Immediately, the warmth seeps into you, soothing the aching muscles and the organ that’s literally shredding itself on the inside.
“Thank you…” you sigh, meeting his sass with sweetness, which causes his sky-blue eyes to soften with silent affection. Jonathan grabs the bottle of oil from the nightstand before he climbs onto the bed with you, carefully straddling your thighs to reach your entire back. With a soft groan, you manage to tug your shirt off, and Jonathan rewards you by running his hands over your skin, feeling around for the tension in your muscles. He tuts, shaking his head as he caresses you. “Seems like I have my work cut out for me.” You nod in response, letting out a squeak when the cold oil is suddenly poured onto your back, but Jonathan’s hands are quick to follow, warming you right up again. He patiently works out the knots in your back, massaging your back from your shoulders all the way down to your lower back, and you moan into the pillow, feeling like clay beneath his touch as he kneads the stiffness out of your body.
But it seems like you’re not the only one enjoying the massage. After a while, Jonathan’s fingertips carefully tug at the waistband of your sweatpants, and when you turn your head to look at him from over your shoulder, you’re blessed with a perfect view of his rosy cheeks. His eyes meet yours, and he licks his lips before he swallows. “Can we..?”
Your eyebrows raise, and you prop yourself up on your elbows. “But… the mess?” you ask, pleasantly surprised when he huffs and shrugs off your worries.
“I don’t care,” he decides, setting his hands on your hips and gently circling your skin with his thumbs. “We have a towel, don’t we? And it’s all natural, so don’t worry about it. I’m not grossed-out, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He leans down, kissing the top of your head, and his grip on your waist tightens a little before he lets his hands wander a little. You can tell he’s getting riled up. He’s getting touchy.
“Alright. Hold on, I’ll be right back,” you promise, slowly getting up from the bed to head into the bathroom and freshen up a bit. Leaving your sweatpants and underwear in the hamper, you return to the bedroom bearing one of Jonathan’s favorite gifts – Your entire, very much naked body on display just for him. His eyes light up, and he welcomes you back with open arms, maneuvering you back onto your stomach with the cherry pit pillow beneath you. The warmth is even more intense now without your clothes in the way, and you let out a soft groan that becomes a little louder when Jonathan places open-mouthed kisses down the length of your spine.
“I’m oily, Jon –“ you gasp softly. He answers with a soft bite to your shoulder, and you can hear the rustling of clothes and the clinking of metal as he undoes his belt and undresses completely. His hands return to knead your flesh, and he leans down a little to whisper into your skin as if he’s directly speaking to the heart that’s beating within you.
“Shush. I don’t care. God… you’re so pretty. So perfectly human.” Jonathan lets out a sigh of relief as he eases his cock into your heat, eyes falling shut and lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He’s being slow with you. Careful as he pushes himself further into you, as if you’re a piece of fine porcelain that he’d cause to shatter with an overeager thrust. You hold onto the sheets, relaxing into the mattress as you’re gently squished between the warmth of your boyfriend’s body and the heated pillow. Once he’s fully sheathed inside you, he pauses once more to kiss and lick at your neck and shoulders.
“Tell me when,” Jonathan murmurs, rubbing a thumb up your lower back to make your muscles relax even further. Soon enough, you’re a comfortable puddle beneath him and give him the green light, much to his delight. He shifts to lean over you a little more, resting his hands next to your head as he pulls out almost completely to slowly push back inside. A light moan slips from your lips when his length rubs up against the fluttering walls of your pussy, making you feel every vein and throb. It’s a far cry of your usual sessions with him, and even softer than the lazy morning sex you often manage to talk him into.
“How does it feel?” he asks, setting a patient rhythm with every roll of his hips.
“Full…” you whine, turning your head a little to see him better. “But nice… It’s helping.”
You can tell this pleases his ego, and his lips pull up into a self-satisfied smirk as he leans down to murmur into your ear. As always, with this close proximity, the rich purr of his voice sends a shiver down your back.
“Mhm, I’m just your favorite painkiller, huh? You won’t even need ibuprofen once I’m done with you.”
This draws a little chuckle out of you, and Jonathan is delighted by the noise, brushing his nose against the crook of your neck before he kisses all the way up to your chin. His thrusts speed up a little, and he holds you close, sneaking one hand under you to reach for your clit. You gasp as soon as the pad of his index hits the spot, feeling how your body responds and your muscles squeeze around his cock. The weight of his body against yours, the warmth of his skin, and his soft breaths and moans in your ears couldn’t feel more heavenly, and you can feel how the tension in your core is starting to build up into a gentle crescendo with every circle he rubs around that delicate bundle of nerves.
“There we go, sweetheart. You’re squeezing me so well,” he praises softly, nipping at your ear as you turn your face to moan into the bedding. Jonathan picks up the pace, making sure to thoroughly fuck the tension out of your body, and as your orgasm washes over you, he grabs your hair to pull your head out of the sheets. He wants to hear you. Wants to see how your face twists with pleasure and relief as he slowly fucks you through your climax.
Letting go of your hair, he straightens up again, kneading your hips as he approaches his own release. Your pussy is still clenching down on him, and for a man who’s usually so composed, he looks quite disheveled at this point. And he knows it. Something feels different this time. Maybe it’s because the sex is so gentle, maybe it’s because you’re literally letting him in at such a vulnerable time, maybe it’s because the needle finally drops that, yes, he really wants this relationship to last.
Fittingly, it’s that pang of fear – fear of commitment that sends him over the edge, and he clenches his teeth as his cock spills his cum into you with every throbbing pulse.
The bedroom is quiet for a moment as both of you enjoy the buzz of endorphins and the smell of each other’s skin. Jonathan looks at you. Really looks at you. And he realizes how big your role in his life has grown over the years. Into an undeniably fundamental aspect of his existence. The fear in his stomach calms the moment you turn your head to blink up at him, blissed-out and smiling.
“Thanks for the help, Jon.”
“Anytime, love. Anytime.”
He brings his face close to yours once more, capturing your lips in a tender kiss and when he pulls back, it’s only by a hair. Like he can’t stand a bigger distance right now. Jonathan’s lips pull up into a tiny smile, brushing against yours as he speaks.
“I’m glad you let me be your home remedy.”
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tags
@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24
@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411
@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines
@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood
@luvlloyd @plutocoded @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @armydreamersss
@rosiemarieyn @sagepixieswrld
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idkhowtoname · 14 days
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I am so sorry.
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papercorgiworld · 4 months
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Pansy’s interrogation
Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle
Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on.
Warning: Mattheo says a foul thing.
I feel like I’m spamming tumblr with unasked for fic’s, like I’m anxious that I’m bothering everyone, but at the same time: here’s another unasked for fic. Also, English is not my first language and this is not proofread, so feedback is very welcome.
For more interrogations: click here
For more Theodore: click here
For more Mattheo: click here
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Theodore Nott
“Rumor has it you are tutoring first years?” Pansy sits down next to Theodore with a cup of tea in her hand, carefully stirring. Theo growls, he knew this was coming, he knew Hogwarts was notoriously fast when it came down to gossip, but it hadn’t even been a day. Pansy raises her eyebrows, her way of saying ‘spill it, I want to know’.
“So?” Theo simply shrugs trying to downplay it and thereby hoping to avoid spilling his hidden agenda.
“Not really your thing, is it Notty-boy?” Pansy playfully ruffles through Theo’s hair. He immediately gets her hand out of his hair and tries to comb it back to its regular mess with his fingers. “It earns Slytherin points.” Theo finally explains when his hair is remodeled.
“Earning Slytherin points?” The girl huffed, clearly not falling for his excuse. “If you really cared about our house points you would start attending class, stop doing drugs and getting caught, and you would keep Riddle out of fights instead of getting him into more fights.”
Theodore frowned and forced his lips into a line. “Keep Riddle out of fights, who do you think I am, the pope?!” Pansy shakes her head. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
Theo looks away and feels saved when he sees Draco approaching them with his usual dramatic walk. He should be enough distraction for Pansy. “Theo, I heard you’re tutoring first years?” Right. How could I forget, he’s Hogwarts' second biggest gossip.
Enzo joins the group now that the entire common room knows Theo is a tutor thanks to Draco. “Really?” Enzo quips and Theodore simply nods. “(Y/n) must be so pleased that you’re helping out with her tutoring project. She had trouble finding capable and willing volunteers.”
Draco huffs at Enzo’s oblivious reaction. “Theo is so whipped for (y/n).” Pansy mouths an OMG at Theo who immediately realizes he will never hear the end of this.
Suddenly Blaise and Mattheo arrive. “Mate, you tutoring first years?” Mattheo asks, ignoring everyone else and with a very confused expression. Theo sighs and lets himself sink in the sofa, wishing it would swallow him. “If you’re tutoring? Why don’t you help me?” Blaise adds a little offended.
“Apparently, Theo is only doing this to earn points… with (y/n).” Pansy explains with an unmistakable grin on her face. Theodore rolls his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment. I need a smoke. And new friends.
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Mattheo Riddle
Pansy flops down next to Mattheo who up until then was enjoying his quiet time lounging on his favorite couch in the Slytherin common room. Mattheo doesn’t recognise Pansy’s presence and simply continues reading his book.
Pansy’s smirk grows wide, she’as already enjoying herself and she hasn’t even started interrogating her victim yet. She turns herself to face Mattheo’s side and dominantly places her arm on the back of the couch behind him. Now he’s closed in the game begins.
“I hear it’s been a while since you’ve had a shag?” Annoyance fills Mattheo’s eyes as he stops reading just to stare in front of him.
“I’m assuming everything *pansy gestures to everything between his legs* is still working fine. So… No luck on the market ?” Mattheo’s eyes roll to the corner of his eyes to stare at Pansy.
“Pans, don’t.” Mattheo returns his gaze back to his book.
“You must get frustrated? Getting no release.” A heavy breath leaves Mattheo’s chest. He really didn’t like it when Pansy played her games.
“Oh, but he has plenty of Willing Witches magazines. He gets by.” Blaise jumps to take a seat on the couch opposite of Mattheo and Pansy, spreading his arms to take up the whole couch. Mattheo’s jaw clenches clearly not amused by his friend's humor. When Pansy giggles, Mattheo can’t help but feel exposed and blush a little.
“Why do you care?” Mattheo finally breaks, giving Pansy his full attention.
“I want to know why you’ve been playing boring at every single party for the last few months. Girls talk, you know.” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “Girls talk? Wow, that’s news.” His sarcasm had a poisonous undertone.
“If the guy wants to be on his best behavior, let him, Pans.” Blaise cuts in, attempting to get Pansy off Mattheo’s case.
“Why? Why are you suddenly done with manwhoring about?” As every part of Mattheo’s body tensed, Pansy threw a quick glance over to Blaise to affirm her suspicion: she was onto something.
Acting quick and avoiding a witty or snappy comeback from Mattheo, Pansy moved a little closer to Mattheo. She let her head fall to the side and put up an innocent face. “Are you trying to impress someone?” Mattheo’s dark eyes shot at hers. “Ah, that also explains why you’ve been attending classes more often.” She added enjoying how the puzzle pieces were falling together. “And, it’s been a while since you’ve had detention for fighting. Oh please, don’t tell me, are you trying to convince (y/n) that you’re a good boy?!”
As soon as Mattheo heard your name his face went from cold and annoyed to shocked and horrified. It lasted only for a second, his dead eyes were even more furious than before. “Pansy. If it ain’t for sucking dick then I advise you keep your mouth shut. Now, go bother someone else.”
Pansy was used to harsh language, but Mattheo’s denigrating tone made her tense. “I wonder what (y/n) will think about your foul mouth.” Pansy got up, pleased now that she knew what made Mattheo tick. Mattheo on the hand was frustrated that he led himself get played by Pansy’s games like this.
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gojoux · 8 months
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒
Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.
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◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Would you really reject this man's kiss? A man who is used to getting what he wants? He would start to react dramatically feigning hurt, “You dare wipe my kiss clean off your cheeks?! Baby, I thought you loved me.” But then he'd pull you close, and his attitude changes drastically, “Now, don't play hard to get. I know you want more.” He would kiss you again with more passion and force, caressing your body and locking you in place, and you couldn't help but kiss him back.
◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
“Hey, hold on now, love...” As you wipe off his kiss, Geto smiles and shakes his head before leaning in again and kissing you even closer and longer, placing his hands softly on your face. He'll smirk at you when you pull away, “Don't do that. It's the first time I gave my kisses to someone this special.” Geto would kiss you again and hug you tightly, he's very happy to have you.
◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
He'd chuckle as you wipe off his kiss before grabbing your wrist and pressing it against the wall. His eyes would look like it's glowing for a moment as he presses you harder against the walls. “Don't wipe my kiss off.” He grumbles. Sukuna would kiss you harder as if he were trying to leave a mark behind on your lips. He's very possessive and will stop at nothing to possess you if you're his love.
◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
He'd raise an eyebrow as you try to wipe off his kiss. “What? Wiping off my kiss? Are you not happy with me giving you a kiss now?” He smiles a little before grabbing your chin gently, pressing his lips against your forehead, and it lingers for a while to kiss you there. Nanami is always serious, but he's soft inside, and he appreciates your gesture a lot when you accept his kisses.
◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
He's too stunned to speak and still shocked by what you just did. “So, you're wiping it off...” Choso murmurs, he's never been loved before and to have someone do that to his kisses is a first. Still, he's happy to be your love though, so his cheeks are flushed and his body feels hot. Choso would put two of his hands gently on your neck before he leaned in, “Don't move. Let me kiss you again.”
◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
“What was that?” He would hold your wrist tightly, his grip is firm but not enough to hurt you as he pulls you closer. “So, you hate my kisses now, hm?” He looks unbothered by your gesture and is not offended at all. Toji would just kiss you on the lips again, “There. I'll just keep kissing you then.” He smiles and ruffles your hair. He thinks the idea of your small actions is amusing and cute.
◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
A faint blush covers his cheeks as he questions you. “What are you doing?” He asks, his voice remaining calm and collected. He'd look at you with a serious gaze. Megumi would lean in and kiss you even longer this time, as if he was trying to prove something. He'll mumble in your ear, “I don't want you to wipe off my kiss anymore.” Megumi will hug you and rest his head on your shoulder, as this is the only way he knows how to express his love.
◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
“Huh? I just gave you a kiss and you wipe it off? Why? Didn't I kiss you properly?” He'd remain speechless for a few seconds, thinking about why you would wipe his kiss off, he might even feel a little insecure. Itadori would then hold your both cheeks and kiss you a few more times before pulling away. He'll look at you with a wide smile on his face and say, “Oh, don't worry. All you had to say was I didn't kiss you properly.”
◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
Yuta's heart would leap in shock and he would turn flustered. This is a new feeling he's never experienced before, someone wiping off his kiss. “W-Why did you do that? Did I do something wrong?” He'd ask. Yuta would step forward and grab your cheeks gently, kissing you before he held your hand and placed it on his chest to feel his heartbeat. “Was that better?”
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bluejutdae · 2 months
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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Minho x you
Chan, Changbin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin
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genre: friends to lovers
warnings: asshole date, nothing happens but reader thinks her date might follow her home
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This night has been terrible so far. Your friend convinced you to go out with one of her colleagues to get over your crush for Minho, and you knew it was pointless, but she insisted so much you have lost the will to fight. So you wore a nice dress and a minute before you left the apartment, the guy texted you saying there was a change of plans and to meet two hours later and at a different location. Is the dating scene like this for everybody? You haven’t dated anyone for a long time, a bit because of how things ended with your last boyfriend but mostly because of the raging (unreciprocated) crush for Minho.
Minho’s now one of your closest friends, but you never actually gave up on your feelings for him. It’s almost comfortable, safe in a way, to love someone knowing things won’t change but won’t end either.
But for the sake of shutting up your friend, you are now in a very shitty situation. The guy is pretty, you’re mature enough to admit that, but he’s a major asshole. Even ignoring the last minute change of plans, the fact that he arrived 25 minutes later and apparently the new location is a nightclub. His hands have been on you the moment he introduced himself and the more you try to put some distance between you two, the more he’s all over you. You could just leave, that’s true. It’s also true that this guy is very set on never leaving your side and he’s so pushy you’re certain he wouldn’t hesitate to follow you home.
You wonder when Minho is going to be here so you can at least leave the club and have him keep you company, when you feel a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn to find the hand holding you belongs to Minho himself and he’s looking at you with a surly expression, teeth clenched and a frown between his eyebrows. “We’re going home.”
His voice is cold and firm, you’ve never heard him speak to you like that. Your date notices the scene and turns to Minho. “Woah dude, she’s mine tonight.”
Minho’s cold stare rests on the guy and at the same time your friend makes a step to place himself between you and your date. “She’ll never be yours, not tonight, not never. She belongs to me. Dude.” The last word was spat through Minho’s teeth, mocking and a bit cruel.
Words die on the guy’s tongue when Minho gets into his face and says something too quiet for you to hear.
A moment later he’s gently pushing you away and through the crowd, towards the exit.
“Well, that was intense,” you joke when you’re safe on the sidewalk.
“Don’t you ever put yourself into a situation like this. Ever again.” He’s on your face, almost screaming the words at you, anger contorting his face.
You can understand he was worried, but you don’t like the way he’s talking to you.
“Ya, Minho! Do you think I wanted that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t call you so you could scold me! I called you because I trusted you to help me, I know I was in a shitty situation!”
“And yet you still got into this situation!” He rebuts, and in this moment you hate him a little.
Why is he judging you like this? Why is he blaming you? Sure, you were a bit too naive but it’s not like you consciously decided to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.
“This clearly wasn’t what I expected.”
“No? You’re the one who decided to go to a club with a man you didn’t know. And you came alone! Was bringing a friend too easy?”
“Fuck you, Minho!”
You stalk away, towards the direction of the bus stop. Why is he mad at you now? He’s never been mean or cruel to you, despite what lots of people say about him, he’s a caring friend.
You can hear his footsteps getting close and you almost laugh at the thought that comes to your mind: you are always so focused on him, you can now recognize his footsteps.
“I parked in the other direction.”
“Then go the other direction. I don’t need you here. Sorry I bothered you. I won’t be your problem anymore.”
“You are my problem.”
“Oh, so I really am a problem to you.” You can believe him. All this because he had to come get you? You didn’t think it’d be such a hassle.
“Yes. You’ve been my problem since I met you.”
“You’re being so fucking cruel tonight, Minho.”
“I am not- can you stop walking?” He asks, sounding exasperated. You stop and face him, one hand on your hip and your lips pursed in disapproval. “So you can tell me more about how I’m a problem?”
“I didn’t say a problem.”
“You said exac-“
“I said MY problem! Emphasis on my. Because you’re not other people’s problem. And I don’t want you to belong to other guys, don’t want them to call you theirs! I want you to be mine.”
You stare at him for half a minute, silent and still. Putting aside the fact that he’s repeating the fact that you’re a problem, you try to read between the lines.
“Is this a fucked up way to tell me you have feeling for me?”
“Yes.”
This is ridiculous. Really ridiculous. Your crush has feelings for you. And the most backwards way of confessing. Well, considering he is Minho, it’s pretty in character for him. Still ridiculous, though.
“I didn’t know you decided to go on dates.” He says it like a second thought.
“I didn’t.”
“You were on a date.”
“Doesn’t mean I decided to go on dates.”
“Means exactly that.”
“Jesus, Minho. Can you ever drop something?”
“Not when it’s about you.”
This asshole. How can you find his otherwise annoying answers amusing?
“My friend insisted so much that she wore me down, so I accepted this date with her colleague. So, as I said, I haven’t decided to go on dates.”
“Good.”
“You can never be normal, uh? Always with a weird answer.”
“You like weird.”
“I do.”
“You’re normal. I like normal.”
He likes normal, and he likes you. And he tells you so in a Minho way at least another ten times in the following minutes, during your way home.
You say goodbye and you’re about to get out of the car, when he puts his hand on your arm, an hesitant expression on his face. “No more other guys, right?”
You smile softly at him. “No more other guys. There hasn’t really been another guy since I met you.”
His smile is all you need.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months
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Girls Night Out
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: smut!!!
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For the past three years, your weekends have mostly been spent following your fiance's races all over the world, and on his free weekends, you usually rest in front of the TV cuddled up to each other enjoying every moment of his free time you get to spend together.
But this Saturday night was yours and it meant only one thing - girls night out. Your best friend was celebrating her birthday, so you decided to go out to dinner and a few drinks with a close circle of friends. Girls only.
And you were really excited about that. It's not that you didn't like spending time with Lando, quite the opposite actually, lately you haven't really been interested in anything other than being in his arms, but every now and then a little change comes in handy.
As for tonight's outfit, since you just got your period, you opted for black wide-leg suit pants and a black corset top that accentuated and hugged your breasts beautifully. You looked hot, not in a vulgar way, but you were going to turn heads for sure.
"Lan, I'm about to head out" You said fixing your hair and entering the living room where your fiance was lying on the couch in front of the TV.
His gaze moved from the screen to you measuring you from head to toe with raised eyebrows.
"What?" You asked.
"That's a nice neckline you got there" He commented clearly displeased with your choice of outfit for a night out where he wouldn't be there.
"Thank you" You smiled rolling your eyes at him. "I like it too"
"You couldn't choose something else to wear? Like a turtleneck or something?" He asked making you laugh.
"And what's wrong with this? Please, do tell me"
"That cleavage of yours is begging for attention, that's what's wrong with it" He says, his expression serious and his eyes stuck on yours.
"Oh wow. I don't know what you would do if tonight I wore a dress like the one I wore for your birthday dinner" You said remembering the short cherry red dress that Lando tore off of you the second you got home from his birthday dinner celebration.
"You most certainly wouldn't leave the house wearing something like that without me let me tell you that" He says confidently making you roll your eyes at his comment once again although you secretly kinda liked that he was ever so jealous. You liked playing with his head a little from time to time.
"Where is your ring?" He asks about the big oval diamond ring he knelt before you with, even though he knows damn well you never take it off your finger.
"On my finger, of course, every day for a year now, where else would it be?"
"Let me see" You sigh moving closer to stand in front of him and hold your left hand out in front of him. He takes the opportunity to pull you by the hand and make you fall on top of him making you squeal as your chest hit his.
"Lando! Are you crazy?"
"I think you know answer to that question" He smirks grabbing your cheek and pressing his lips against yours.
"Yeah, I think I do. You're gonna ruin my makeup" You whine trying to pull away, but he ignores you pulling you in for another more heated kiss forcing his tongue inside your mouth.
"Lando.." You warn him trying to break the kiss. "Are you nervous that I'm going out without you?"
"No, I just don't want others to look at what's mine. Fuck, I don't want them even thinking about looking"
"Well, like you just said, I'm yours and yours only and you've known that for a long time now" You say pressing assuring kiss to his lips.
"Well.." His hand escapes between your thighs gently squeezing one of them. "Maybe I do need a little bit of reminding" His mouth find your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses all over it.
"Even if I wanted to, we can't, because I got my period this morning."
"I know you did. But you could use your pretty little mouth. That would convince me pretty well." His thumb traces over your bottom lip tugging it down.
"Lando..I have to leave soon"
"Baby, you can't leave me like this." He whines determined to get what he wants and you knew you wouldn't leave the house until he got it. "Touch it.. I got so hard just by looking at you." He takes your hand into his placing it over the tent in his pants. "I need you to take care of it" He whispers making you shiver and rub your palm against him.
"You better be quick" You say quietly before you drop off the couch onto the floor between his legs.
"Oh trust me, it'll take seconds" He sighs removing his pants along with his boxers and tossing them to the side. Leaning down he gives you a brief kiss before leaning back against the couch with his hands holding your cheeks.
You start by leaving sloppy slow kisses around his erected length holding your hands on his thighs. Your tongue runs lightly over his balls making him moan in response. You cup them in your hand gently massaging them while your tongue follows the line of the vein on his cock.
"Baby, put it in your mouth, please"
"Impatient, aren't we?" You tease wrapping your hand around him giving him a few strokes up and down. Your thumb crosses over his red swollen tip before attaching your lips to it and sucking on it.
He hisses at the sensation collecting your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to the side to get a better look at you.
"Fuck baby, yes, yes, just like that -ahh" Praising you, you moan around him sending vibrations through his rock hard cock.
"You don't know what I would do to you right now if you weren't on your period"
"What, baby? Tell me." You ask taking your mouth off him and stroking him in your hand spreading the precum all over his tip.
"I'd fuck you until you begged me to stop" He moans and you squeeze your thighs together trying to get any kind of friction to reduce the ache between your legs.
"You're doing it so good. Sucking me off so good, fuck" You pick up the pace of bobbing your head up and down his cock opening your eyes for a second to look at his chest heavily rising and falling, his head thrown back and lips parted.
You loved the sight of him in front of you - he was so helpless, completely at your mercy, the sounds that he was making, moans of your name escaping from his lips were enough for you to know that he was fully under your control.
You loved the way his hand rested on the back of your head guiding it, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.
"You love choking on me don't you? Yeah you do. Fuck I love watching the bulge in your throat when I fuck it." His hips bucked up as he started thrusting himself deep until his tip hit the back of your throat making you gag around him and reflexively pull back, teary-eyed, gasping for air.
"You're okay, baby, you're okay c'mon, take it" Gently caressing your cheek he tapped his tip against your lips before forcing himself back into your mouth. You continued working him up and down taking all of him in while your hand found his balls again making him a weak mess of a man.
"Fuck, baby I'm close." You felt him starting to tense under your touch as his hand replaced the work of your mouth. He took his cock in one hand and with the other he took your chin between his fingers.
"You gonna cum in my mouth, love?"
"Ahh, yes, fuck. You gonna swallow it?"
"Mhm, all of it" You nodded innocently sending him over the edge, his loud groaning broke through the room, the rhythm of his hand slowed down putting his cock back into your mouth as he reached his climax spilling his cum into your mouth.
He stayed like that in semi lying position trying to regain his strength back. You wiped your mouth with your fingers before he pulled you to him into a hug leaving a long kiss on your temple.
"Convinced?"
"I'd say so"
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lev1hei1chou · 1 month
Text
Caught
Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 551 Synopsis: Gojo lies about his location Masterlist
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The latest mission had been really intense, adrenaline-fueled, and downright exhausting. But for you, the thought of finally getting home to your little family kept you going. With a quick check-in, you called Satoru, hoping to hear the comforting sound of your husband's voice and perhaps a few adorable ramblings from your little child.
"Hey, babe, how's it going?" you greeted Gojo over the phone, hoping to hear the familiar warmth in his voice.
"Hey there baby, everything's good here. Just putting C/N to bed," Gojo replied casually.
Relief washed over you. "Oh, that's great! I miss you guys so much. I can't wait to get home."
"Yeah, we miss you too," Gojo said, his voice slightly distracted.
You frowned. "Are you sure everything's okay? You sound a bit off."
"No, love, everything's fine. We're just here, at home, all rolled up and cozy in bed," Gojo reassured, his tone a tad too chipper.
"Well alright then! I'll see you guys soon. Love you."
Something didn't add up. You glanced at the map on your phone, which showed Gojo's location tagged in a cafeteria nearby. Suspicion crept in, and you decided to investigate.
As you entered the cafeteria, you spotted Gojo sitting at a table, chatting away with someone you couldn't see from your position, far from the cozy confines of home as he claimed. Confused, you dialed Gojo's number again.
"Hey, Satoru, where are you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
"At home, of course," he replied without missing a beat.
You narrowed your eyes, your gaze fixed on Gojo. "Really? Because it looks like you're in a cafeteria."
Gojo's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. "Uh what are you talking about? Must be a glitch in the GPS or something. Definitely home, just enjoying some quality time with our little one."
You sighed, not buying Gojo's flimsy excuse for a second. Determined to catch him red-handed, you made your way quietly behind him. As you stood behind your husband, your child caught sight of you and froze, their eyes widening in panic.
Gojo continued chatting, unaware of your presence behind him. "You know, your mom can be so strict sometimes. Always making sure everything's in order, no room for fun."
You couldn't help but roll their eyes at Gojo's comment. But before you could confront him, your child subtly signaled towards your direction, prompting your husband to turn around.
The moment Gojo laid eyes on you, his expression morphed from nonchalant to downright mushy. "Well, look who's here! Isn't it my favorite person in the world?"
"Gojo Satoru, what are you doing here?" you asked, trying to feign seriousness, but couldn't fight the urge to smile at his sudden change in demeanor.
Gojo grinned sheepishly. "Okay, fine, you caught me. We may have wanted a little break from bedtime duty."
"And you thought hanging out in a cafeteria was the best way to do that?" you raised an eyebrow incredulously.
"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "But hey, since you're here, why don't you join us? We were just about to grab some snacks."
You couldn't help but laugh at Gojo's antics. "Fine, but only because I missed you guys too much."
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call-memissbrightside · 5 months
Text
Continuation of this
Katsuki and your son didn’t return from their camping trip until late Sunday night, but you were waiting.
Thankfully Katsuma fell asleep on the road back, and he made no fuss tucking him away in his bed. Katsuki waited to jump on you when the door to Katsuma’s room clicked shut, then did he take care of you.
It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, and it’s been even longer since you’ve slept with Katsuki. Yet, there was no hesitation or embarrassment when you willinging took off your garments of clothing as you blindly led your ex to your bedroom. Katuski wanted to take in the little details of you, things that he might’ve missed or things that changed since the last time he’s been with you… but laying you out in the bed without any barriers of clothing to hide behind, with the moonlight spilling in just perfectly to cascade every dip and curve of your body, the young man decide to indulge just for once. If I’m lucky, this will happen again, he thought.
As highschool lovers that you once were meant you’d make love, you both were virgins when you got together but now you were older, wiser, and less awkward when touching one another. There was no hesitation, no verbal checks and balances like you’d give when you were sixteen. Now, his eyes asked the questions and your little smile answered each and every one of them. That night, five years after leaving Katsuki to raise your son without him, Katsuki and you fucked like you needed to make up for lost time.
You gained a sixth sense through motherhood, and you were startled awake. Blinking the sleepiness out of your eyes, you take in the sight of Katsuma, with rumpled blonde hair standing by the foot of your bed. Thankfully, you were covered with your blanket, and he didn’t seem to notice nor care that you were in bed with Katsuki..
“Mommy, I’s sick,” Katsuma whispered, a little hand rubbing at his eye.
You felt Katsuki laying behind you, with an arm secured tightly around your hips as his steady breathing tickled the nape of your neck.
“What’s wrong baby?” You’re mindful of keeping your naked body covered with the blanket as you sit up, trying to not startle Katsuki but he instantly wakes up from your movement.
“What’s wrong buddy?” Katsuki’s voice is heavily laced with sleep, but he takes a deep breath, peeking over your shoulder to look at his son.
“I’m hot.” Katsuma was sweating, perspiration wetting the crown of his head and the hair that grew there. His cheeks were red like apples, and his little eyes held feelings of pain.
The back of your hand automatically touches his forehead, eyebrows furrowed at the intense heat you feel.
“I think you have a fever baby,” You comment, worryness replacing whatever satifaction you felt just moments before. “Go lay back down and I’ll get the thermometer.”
Katsuma wordlessly obeys your command, and you don’t hesitate to spring up and get dressed. Katsuki watches you, you feel his eyes on your back as you slip on some clothes.
“What should I do?” Katsuki catched his shirt you threw at him with ease, putting it on and beginning to dress too. You don’t know how to answer, mind going on overdrive on how to proceed with having a sick child. Katsuma was usually a healthy kid with a minor cold every two years, but to wake up with an intense fever? What could it be? How serious was this? –
“Y/N?” Katsuki felt useless in this situation, he’s never dealt with a sick kid nor did he know what to do for Katsuma in that moment. He needed you to guide him, lead him, shit, tell him what to do because he was clueless. The young man could tell you were worried, it’s the way your face had a stony expression on it that painted a clear picture: something wasn’t right.
“There’s some medicine in the cabinet above the microwave, could you get it?” You asked him, looking through your drawers for the thermometer. Katsuki, thankful for some direction, swiftly went to retrieve the medicine. In the silence of the kitchen, did the seriousness of his actions catched up with Katsuki.
We had sex, Katsuki recounted, we had sex so now what? Are we together? No – he shook his head, finding a child’s ibuprofen – Would she even want to get back together? What about Katsuma?
Heading to the five-year-olds room, Katsuki put aside any lingering questions in his mind. Just like you decided, all those questions and decisions would have to wait – Katsuma needed him.
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tongue-like-a-razor · 30 days
Text
Brother's Best Friend - Part 12
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Trying to get back into these two. Did we miss them?
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff
WC: 2600+
Part 1 | Masterlist
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“So…” Jake pauses and purses his lips to suppress a mischievous smile. “When did you start liking me?”
You look down at your lap where his head has been resting for the last five minutes. “Did I tell you I like you?”
Jake meets your gaze and snorts. He reaches up to take your hand off the keyboard of your laptop and brings it down over his chest. “Indirectly,” he admits.
You roll your eyes, recalling when you had expressed to Bradley – in Jake’s presence – how ‘your guy’ makes you feel. You pull your hand out of his grasp and look back up at the screen in front of you. “I have to work, Jake.”
“You’re too hardworking,” Jake responds with a whine.
You shake your head with a grin. “Such a dreadful habit, I know. I’m working on it – wait. Damn, I see what you mean –”
Jake starts chuckling and his head tickles your bare thighs. “You’re so fucking cute.”
You press your lips together as your smile broadens. “When did you start liking me?” you ask.
Jake releases a heavy sigh and sits up. “Alright, enough chitchat. Get to work.”
You watch him rise to his feet and make his way into the kitchen, curious why he so abruptly decided to change the subject. “Got any plans this weekend?” you ask casually, wondering if he’ll finally ask you out on a date. The two of you have been sneaking around for a while, but your only outings together have been with Bradley, so you couldn’t even hold hands. Thus far, you’ve assumed that Jake is just waiting for the right moment to speak with Bradley before the two of you make your relationship official but, as time goes on, you become increasingly skeptical that Jake actually intends to come clean.
Jake shrugs. “Not really. Just hangin’ with your bro.”
You try your best not to frown. “Sounds fun.”
Jake walks back over to you and sets a bowl of strawberries on the table by your laptop. You glance up at him inquisitively and he responds with, “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
You give him a smile. “Neither have you.”
He nods. “Which is how I know you’re hungry.”
“Thanks,” you say. “As soon as I’m through with this part, I’ll move all this shit and we can have some lunch.” You gesture at the pile of literature currently cluttering your workspace.
Jake takes a seat adjacent to you at the table and lets out another sigh. “I don’t know,” he says.
You shift your gaze from your computer to look in his direction. “Don’t know what? If you want lunch?” You pick up a strawberry and pop it into your mouth.
Jake is observing you carefully and you stop chewing because the attention makes you uncomfortable. “I don’t know when…” he says, pausing as though he isn’t sure how to continue. “When, uh… I don’t know at what point” – he exhales sharply – “I have no clue when I f – when I started to see you as more than just Bradley’s sister. As more than a friend.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, your mouth still full of half-chewed strawberry.
“I think I just realized, at one point, that I’d rather spend time with you than with anyone else,” he admits.
You finish chewing awkwardly before responding with, “Huh.”
Jake stares at you expectantly, as though you should have something to add.
But you’re not really sure what to say. You’ve been crushing on Jake for an embarrassingly long time and he does not have clearance for that kind of classified intel, especially since his interest in you is far more recent. What does he want, anyway? A pat on the back for finally figuring it out?
“Your turn,” he says, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with an air of confidence.
You purse your lips as though you’re in thought. “Not sure,” you say vaguely.
Jake narrows his eyes. “Not sure? Or don’t want to say?”
You meet his gaze tentatively. “I probably liked you before you liked me.”
Jake watches you with a slight grin. “In that case, you were very good at hiding it.”
You arrive at the pub already slightly tipsy after pre-drinking at your friend’s house. In fact, you’re drunk enough to not give two shits that Jake has, once again, decided to spend his Saturday night with Bradley. This time, he didn’t even invite you along.
Once inside, you head straight for the bar; no sense in wasting time waiting for a table. You grab a drink and take a look around the crowded establishment. That’s when you see him.
Jake fucking Seresin is sitting at a table near the back – not with your brother. You stare at him – and his female companion – in horror for a few moments, letting the scene sink in. Wondering if you’re in the wrong for being shocked. Are the two of you even exclusive? This has never actually been discussed. But one thing is certain: Jake lied, which makes you sick to your stomach.
You slide off your barstool and, cocktail in hand, you make your way to the little table in the back where your supposed boyfriend – or whatever he is – sits entertaining another woman. It’s not long before Jake notices your presence because you’re making quite a spectacle on your way over as you furiously skirt every person in your path.
Jake looks uncomfortable and that satisfies you greatly. “Hey,” he says when you arrive.
You gape at him. “Hey?” you exclaim in outrage.
“Uh,” Jake stalls for a moment. He turns to his date and says, “This is Bradley’s sister.”
The woman opposite Jake smiles at you but you’re too busy glaring at Jake to acknowledge her. “That’s all you want to say about me?”
Jake watches you pointedly. “What else do you want me to say about you?” He looks back at his date and lets out a nervous chuckle.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Seresin?” you shriek, slamming your stemmed glass onto their table so aggressively that your sour apple martini splashes over the rim.
Jake jerks back to avoid getting wet and then looks up at you in alarm. “What’s the matter with you?”
You shake your head at him in disappointment and then turn abruptly to leave. You expect Jake to grab your hand, or follow you out, but he does neither. In fact, you make it all the way back to the bar before you realize that Jake is not even looking in your direction. You see him laughing together with his female friend, as though they both just witnessed something absurd and worthy of repeating in the future for a good chuckle.
“Hey, isn’t that your brother’s aviator buddy?” your friend says, nodding toward the back of the pub.
You roll your eyes and then turn toward the bar, realizing you left your drink at Jake’s table.
“He’s kind of hot,” you friend continues. “But he’s got fuckboy written all over him.”
You close your eyes and sigh. You have nobody to blame but yourself. You know Jake. What in the world made you think he would become a different person if he were with you?
The following day, you wake up past noon with a debilitating migraine. You hear Bradley and Jake’s voices drift up from the kitchen and groan. You’re not in the mood to face Jake after the events of the previous evening. You ended up going home shortly after confronting him and you have no idea where he ended up. Probably in bed, and probably not alone.
You get dressed unhurriedly, dizzy from the pain and, on your way downstairs, you grip the banister tightly just in case. The kitchen is excruciatingly bright, and you cringe upon entering, shielding your face from the open window like a vampire.
“Oh, hey sleepyhead!” your brother greets you.
You grunt in response and head straight for the coffee pot. “Is this fresh?” you ask.
“Nope!” Bradley replies cheerily.
You pour yourself a mug anyway and put it in the microwave, turning to face the two of them while your coffee warms.
Jake meets your gaze with a stoic expression.
“How was your night?” Bradley asks with a grin, clearly seeing that you’re hungover.
“Fine,” you say monotonously.
Bradley raises his eyebrows. “It’s the enthusiasm for me,” he says with a smirk, looking over at Jake.
Jake, however, ignores him and grabs his jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “You ’bout ready, Bradshaw? I ain’t got all day.”
“Alright, alright,” Bradley says. “Let me get my stuff.”
Bradley jogs over to the staircase and runs up to grab his duffel bag. Meanwhile, you are deliberately avoiding Jake’s gaze as you lean your back into the kitchen counter. Jake stuffs his hands into his pockets and is also not looking at you. When Bradley returns a few minutes later, disrupting the silence with a melodic whistling, the two of you have not moved an inch from where you’d been standing when he left. Even though the microwave has beeped at you twice.
“What’s with you two?” he asks, pausing in the doorway.
“Nothing,” Jake responds curtly. “Let’s go.”
Bradley glances between the two of you. “Okay,” he says slowly, his gaze lingering on you in particular. “See you later, sis,” he says.
You wave a distracted hand in his direction and head for the couch with your coffee, nearly bumping into Jake as you cross paths because neither of you is looking at the other.
“Sorry,” Jake mutters, stepping aside to let you pass. His hand goes up instinctively to guide you but he catches himself before letting it rest on your arm.
“It’s fine,” you say, wavering slightly on the spot. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and press a couple of fingers into your temple.
“You okay?” he asks, his eyebrows converging as he tries to catch your gaze.
“I said I’m fine.” You sigh, trying to walk around him.
“Seresin, you coming, or what?” Bradley calls from the foyer.
Jake hesitates as you finally pass him, and then yells back. “I’ll meet you there!”
Bradley waits a moment as though he’s still trying to figure out what’s going on. Then you hear the front door open and Bradley shout, “Don’t be late!” as he exits the house.
Jake trails after you into the living room and, when you lower yourself onto the couch, he crouches down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. “Migraine?” he asks.
You nod slowly so as not to exacerbate the pain.
Jake’s hand gives your leg a soft squeeze. “Have you eaten?”
You cringe. “Please don’t talk to me about food right now,” you beg.
“Did you take anything?”
You shake your head. “I’m out.”
Jake gets to his feet. “I’ll go pick up some meds for you,” he says.
You glance up at him miserably. “You’re going to be late.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he responds, already on his way out.
Jake returns not ten minutes later with your medication and a bag full of snacks. “I heard dark chocolate is good for migraines,” he says, holding out a block for you as you swallow your pills.
“I’m not hungry, Jake,” you say weakly, closing your eyes and lying back down on the couch.
Jake sighs, sitting down on the floor beside you and starting to unwrap the chocolate. “You need to eat something,” he says, breaking off a piece. “I also have gummy worms and popcorn.”
You open your eyes. “I love gummy worms,” you whisper.
Jake grins. “I know,” he whispers back.
You take the chocolate square from his hand and he busies himself with opening the bag of gummy worms while you let the chocolate melt in your mouth. A moment later, he hands you a gummy worm and you stick it between your teeth and bite. “Oh my god, it’s so good,” you moan. The motion of chewing helps alleviate some of the pain in your temple and you sigh blissfully, closing your eyes.
Jake leans his back into the wall adjacent the couch and pops a gummy worm into his mouth. For a while, the two of you sit in silence. Then, he says, “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” you say.
Jake shakes his head and you can sense his irritation without even looking at him. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.”
You turn to give him a flat look. “Would you trust you, Seresin?”
Jake squares his jaw. “I have never given you a reason not to trust me.”
“You lied to me! You said you were meeting Bradley!”
“I was! He was running late.”
You watch him sourly. “And you just happened to pick up a girl while you were waiting?”
Jake returns your bitter glare. “Is that actually what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think,” you say, sitting upright to look him in the eye. “You weren't exactly forthcoming with an explanation.”
Jake sets the gummy worms on the couch and gets to his feet. “The girl was there for Bradley. He was running late. End of story.”
“You couldn’t tell me that yesterday?”
“She’s seeing Bradley! And he doesn’t know about us. It’s not like I can say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m actually dating your boyfriend’s little sister and that’s why she’s acting like a nutcase. Brb.’”
You fold your arms, sulking. Did you consider the possibility that the woman Jake was sitting with wasn’t his date? Briefly. But you were already annoyed with Jake and that, combined with your less than sober state, was apparently a recipe for disaster. “I guess I don’t trust you,” you say with a shrug, even though this statement isn’t altogether true.
Jake places his hands on his hips, exhaling slowly. “Why?” he asks, sounding exasperated.
You stay silent and continue to brood.
Jake pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces as though this conversation is wearing him out. Then, he lets out another sigh and crouches before you again, trying to catch your gaze as he places his hands in your lap, palms up. “Why?” he asks calmly, waiting for you to join hands with him.
You do. “Well, why would I?” you say quietly, hesitating before you continue. “What is this, even? What are we? Do you know? Because I don’t.”
Jake’s eyebrows knit together. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, why haven’t you told Bradley yet? Is it because you’re not sure you want to make this official? Is it because it’s just a fling so why bother?” You cringe inwardly, hating how insecure you sound.
Jake stares at you in wonder, as though this line of thinking has never even crossed his mind.
“Like, are we even exclusive?”
Jake’s eyes widen and he blinks at you in awe. “We fucking better be,” he retorts, his hold on your hands tightening slightly.
“Well, how would I know that?” you exclaim.
Jake brings his hands up to his face and rubs his eyes. “Jesus fuck, how would you not know that?”
You scoff at him. “Because you’ve never once been in an exclusive relationship! Not while I’ve known you, anyway. Do you even know how?”
Jake’s hands slide down his face and stay over his mouth as he gapes at you. When his hands finally drop back into your lap, you can see that he’s got a small smile on his face. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he says finally.
You lower your gaze, not exactly comforted considering he still has not addressed your main concern: Bradley.
Jake stands up and pulls you up off the couch. He puts his arms around you and you rest your head against one of his giant shoulders, allowing him to cradle you lovingly.
“Why haven’t you told Bradley?” you mutter into his shirt.
Jake pulls away from you and runs a hand through his hair uneasily. “I’m scared, Baby B,” he admits. “I’m scared he’s gonna make me choose.”
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819 notes · View notes
luveline · 11 months
Text
𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you get embarrassed and miguel won’t let it go —featuring a smug miguel and a pining spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"This is super, uber bad," Lyla drawls lightly. 
Miguel waves an annoyed hand at her, gaze on the orange monitor in front of him. You shift from foot to foot beside him, neck craned to watch in tandem. 
"Like, so bad. Maybe you should go help." 
"I can't intervene now," Miguel says. 
"How come?" you ask, pulling at the tips of your gloves one at a time as you worry, until the whole thing is slipping off and onto the floor. 
You make no move to pick it up. Miguel glances down at it, then the screen again before saying, "Because they'll never learn. And because there's too many fingers in the same pie." 
"Pie?" you ask. 
"You don't want that?" he asks, pointing at your fallen glove. 
You blink, pulled back to the present from your stewing anxiety. It's hard seeing people you care about getting their asses handed to them and knowing you can't help.
Miguel rolls his eyes, only half-making fun as he leans down for your glove. You lean at the same time, almost knocking your head into his as your fingers brush. Miguel looks up, suddenly face to face with you. Your breath catches in your throat at the proximity. You can see every dark lash hedging his eyes, feel the fanning of his exhale as it kisses your top lip. 
His confusion is obvious. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
"Uh– it’s nothing." 
His eyes narrow, your heart skips a beat, and while Miguel might not have a spider sense he's still enhanced. He must hear it. Something in his eyes changes, the smallest flicker of amusement relaxing his brow.  
You wince and stand up rigidly straight, face to the screen again so he can't see your flustered expression head on. "Nothing." 
"Sort of felt like something." 
"It's nothing, Miguel." 
"That why you forgot this?" 
You look down at his offered hand, your glove bunched up in his big palm. 
Your lips part of their own accord, any effort you've made to appear unaffected by him, his stature, and his general imposing demeanour now worthless. Too quickly, you snatch the glove from his hand and yank it back over your fingers, your pinky bending uncomfortably from the sheer force of it. 
"It's nothing," Miguel repeats without inflection, though he crosses his arms and chuckles a second later. 
You squirm beside him. "I– I'm distracted." 
"I can tell. Something caught your eye?" 
The urge to cover your face with both hands reaches an all time high. You settle for covering one flushed cheek. "Nothing interesting." 
"No? Well, we can change that." 
"Would you stop?" you ask, trying to sound furious but definitely bordering pleading. 
"I'm not doing anything. Nothing happened." 
"I wouldn't take that, if it were me," Lyla chimes in. 
"Good thing it's not you," Miguel says. 
Things are quiet for a while. Miguel refocuses on the fight unfolding on screen, and you try to calm your beating heart. The embarrassment refuses to wane, your pulse too stubborn to slow, and eventually Miguel must take pity on you, leaning toward you with arms crossed over his chest. "It wasn't that bad," he says.
"I don't know what you're talking about." 
"I'm trying to make you feel better." 
"You– I– you were so close to me, I got nervous, it– it has nothing to do with you." 
Miguel raises his eyebrows. "Oh, okay." He straightens up. "Nothing to do with me. You know I can hear your heart, right?" 
"Wow. Is that unique to you?" you ask scathingly, knowing every Spider in the whole headquarters can likely hear the drum of your heart right now. 
You know he's teasing because he finally managed to catch you in a moment of awkwardness rather than the other way around, and because he's an asshole —you think that part hard, hoping his enhanced hearing has improved to include telepathy. Like he can tell, he grins, and he nods at nothing in particular. 
"Don't worry, Spider-Girl. I won't hold it against you." 
"Generous," you say. 
His voice drops to a rough, lilting murmur, "People have said that about me. Tall, handsome, generous." It's impossible to miss the implication. 
Your heart rockets and you have to turn away from him entirely to maintain any dignity you have left. 
"You know what else they say?" Lyla asks. "That he's a smug, tightly wound control freak who's too busy being a bad sport, totally missing Jess' call for backup." 
"What?" Miguel asks, all smoothness dropped from his voice. "Respond!" 
"Say sorry to Y/N."
"Lyla!" 
"Say sorry–" 
"I'm sorry," he says to you. You're happy to find genuine apology in his gaze, if only for a second. "Lyla, respond." 
"Already did." 
Miguel gets so immediately angry that his head tips back and his eyes screw closed, grunting his dissatisfaction. You send Lyla a grateful smile, smothering a wave of laughs with your gloved hand. 
"Don't worry, Miguel," you say cheerfully. "I won't hold it against you."
"...Thank you."
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thanks for reading! i hope u enjoyed, pls reblog if u have the time! <;3 my other miguel fics
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eloves-writes · 5 months
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so it goes…
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: part 2 here! as dr gaul’s assistant, you find yourself alone in her laboratory bearing an unpleasant task with her other mentee, coriolanus snow, who you strongly despise. or so it goes … warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), slightly public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, think that's it but please lmk if i need to add anything! a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my last fic! and thank you anon for this request, i love and appreciate requests more than you know!!! enjoy this. will for sure write a second chapter if one singlular person expresses interest. mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
dr gaul’s lab was filled with weird and wonderful (but mostly weird) things. you sat, bored, on your side of the gamemaker’s desk staring at shelves and shelves of creatures of all shapes and sizes with various muttations. according to the clock beside you, it had been 30 minutes since gaul herself had left the room to ‘see to something’. it was often best not to ask questions when things like that happened, but you really wished she would come back soon as your work day technically ended in a few minutes and gaul’s second-favourite mentee came to visit her after hours almost every day. coriolanus snow was not necessarily an unpleasant person, not to you at least, but he was certainly unbearable. he was so up his own ass thinking he was better than everybody else that he failed to realise how much of a pompous twat he was. ‘snow lands on top’. god, those four words were practically all you heard come out of his mouth when he wasn’t sucking up to dr gaul or spewing fake niceties to any authoritative figure who would listen.
as you were thinking about how annoying he is and how pretentious his stupid hairstyle was, the door to the lab was hauled open by the peacekeepers who stood guard outside. thank god gaul was back, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. not that you weren’t grateful for this assistant’s position, because it was a highly coveted role for university students each year and you’d beat them all out for it. even snow. ha. even suck-up snow. fuck. snow.
the tall blond had entered the lab and was walking up to your desk with his usual self-assured smile and red uniform.
“y/n, good evening.”
“snow.”
his pleasant facade dropped for just a moment at your monotonous response.
“where’s dr gaul?”
you passive aggressively put down the pen you had been tapping on the desk.
“i don’t know,” you replied blandly, studying his face like you trying to read his mind. “she left like a half hour ago to ‘see to something’, but she’s not been back. i’d suggest you leave and speak to her tomorrow instead.”
coriolanus pulled a face as if thoroughly surprised that anyone could be anything less than cordial to him. it was a subtle change in expression, but you figured that’s what he was thinking.
“that’s quite alright, y/n,” he smiled mockingly, “i’ll sit right here and wait. nowhere to be tonight.”
“shocker,” you murmured, watching as snow sat in the empty chair opposite you.
the two of you stayed sat at gaul’s desk for almost 10 minutes before either of you said anything else.
“how is the apprenticeship going?” snow asked, trying to fill the awkward silence by feigning interest.
“it’s great. thanks. thrilling, actually. i’m having the time of my life. this is so much fun,” you retorted.
coriolanus raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “you know, every one of gaul’s students wanted this apprenticeship. if you’re not enjoying it, i am more than certain that you could find somebody to fill the role.”
you huffed sarcastically. “oh good try, snow. i’m not giving it up that easily.”
“so i’ve heard,” he muttered.
before you could respond to that, the laboratory doors hauled open again and dr gaul finally returned.
“ah, coriolanus, good,” she welcomed, entering with purpose in her stride. “i have a small ask of the pair of you.”
there was no way in the whole of panem that this would be a ‘small’ ask, coming from her. coriolanus’ eyes widened in apprehension.
“don’t make that face at me, coriolanus snow.”
“sorry.”
“good. i must continue to deal with a situation that has arisen, i need you two to feed chupa before he gets too hungry. that’s all, then you both may leave and i shall see you," you watched her search for a rhyme, "before tomorrow’s eve.”
then she turned to leave, with you and coriolanus pulling faces of horror. ‘chupa’ was a particularly hideous and dangerous looking creature that gaul had advised you, on multiple occasions, to keep your distance from. and now she was asking you to feed him? sometimes it was like she wanted you dead.
“wait a minute,” you said hesitantly. gaul moved only her head to look at you and you regretted opening your mouth immediately. “sorry, dr gaul, you want us,” you motioned to yourself and snow, “to feed that,” you pointed at the cage where the beast appeared to be smirking.
“yes,” she replied plainly. “he will eat anything, but he most likes the small green snakes.”
with that, she left the lab again.
coriolanus looked at you, looked at chupa, then looked back at you. “what the fuck is that?”
you snorted, enjoying seeing him uncomfortable. “do you want to get the snakes, or shall i?”
“you get them,” he spoke quickly. “i don’t like snakes.”
you were suspicious at this apparently strong aversion to the slithering reptiles. perhaps they’d scared him when he was younger, and never shook it off. or perhaps one had bitten him. you imagined him flailing his arms and screaming and it made you chuckle to yourself as you took a jar half-filled with thin, forest green snakes. they weren’t venomous, in fact they were quite amiable and undeserving of being fed to the ugly brute in the cage beside you. regardless, you removed two snakes from the jar and placed it back on the shelf.
coriolanus was keeping his distance, making you do all the work. lazy asshole.
“can you open the cage?” you directed snarkily. he tentatively unfastened the top of the cage, standing closer to you than he ever had before. up close, he looked like a real person. a real person who was just as real as everybody else in the capitol, not any better. he smelt better than a lot of them though. like cologne and fresh roses. you mentally chastised yourself for noticing and tried to focus on the task at hand.
your snake-holding hand slid towards chupa’s mouth, which opened to reveal a large set of sharp fangs that seemed to be moving upwards
“be careful of the fangs,” snow warned from behind you.
“thank you coriolanus, i’m so glad you told me that. i was truly about to stick my fingers into his mouth,” you retorted sarcastically, starting to feed the snakes to the disgusting creature.
he mumbled something incoherent that sounded something like “i wish you would.”
“sorry what was that, snow? did you say something,” you asked, becoming more irritated by his unhelpful presence.
as chupa finished the tail of the second snake, he bit the air above him in an attempt to get your hand for dessert, making you rapidly withdraw your hand from the cage and leap backwards. coriolanus dropped the lid in shock and it thankfully fastened itself.
when you had leapt backwards, you had leapt backwards straight into snow’s arms that he had instinctively wrapped around you in protection. his arms were stronger than they looked through his uniform jacket, and his chest much more toned. it felt beyond strange to be this close to him. but something deep inside of you suddenly yearned to be closer, and you slowly rotated yourself in his arms to face him, hands pressed against his chest.
coriolanus was looking into your eyes like nothing else was in the room. like he had never seen a person’s eyes this close before. he was looking at you like you were most incredibly fascinating thing he had ever seen.
and maybe you were; he had grown used to the capitol women throwing themselves at him. he didn’t struggle to take them home, had no issues finding a date to all the various events he attended. then there you were- snapping at him and poking fun at him, and not even waiting until his back was turned to roll your eyes or pull faces. in what he deemed a cruel twist of fate, you were the only girl in the capitol who didn’t look at him like he was god, and you were the only girl in the capitol he truly felt something deeper than momentary lust for.
his lust for you was not momentary. it was perpetual. and having you this close to him, safe and protected in his arms, confirmed for him that you needed to be his. the world bent to the will of coriolanus snow. and so would you.
in an instant where your body no longer obeyed your better judgment, you pressed your lips to coriolanus’.
he kissed you back like you were a source of oxygen, using his advantageous hold of you to force you to walk backwards towards the rows of bookshelves behind gaul’s desk without separating your lips. he swiftly checked the door to make sure nobody had snuck in before your bodies were eclipsed by the cover of the well-stocked shelves and you were roughly pushed up against them. snow continued to kiss you, moving down to your neck to leave marks sure to raise questions the next morning, then down to your collarbone, unbuttoning your blouse as he went so that his path was clear to mark you with his mouth all the way down to the waistband of your skirt. his kneeled down before you and pushed up your skirt, looking up at you for approval. you nodded, still caught up in the moment. this was fine. this felt good. it really felt good when snow removed your panties and placed your legs over his shoulders, holding you up at the waist and running his tongue along your folds, earning a loud moan from you. he withdrew his head from you skirt to shush you, before returning his tongue to your centre and flicking it against your clit. you bit onto your knuckle to absorb the sound of the whimpers escaping you. where the fuck had he learned to do this? it felt heavenly, his mouth drawing you ever closer to release with his large hands digging into your hips to keep you in position.
“coryo,” you whispered. “coryo, i’m close.”
he began to hum in acknowledgement, sending you right over the edge. a moan slipped from your mouth as you came, feeling your slick drip onto his face. he continued to lap at your juices as you rode out your orgasm, a blissful haze washing over you. if these were the skills making snow so cocky, you couldn’t fault him for that particular trait any longer. he lifted his head and smiled at you like a man who was very aware you’d just cum on his face by his manipulation. he helped you take your legs from his shoulders with a satisfied smirk when they wobbled under the weight of your body, then he kissed you again, softer this time, to force you to taste yourself on his tongue. you reached your hand forward to his crotch, palming him through his constricting pants. he indulged you for a minute, then removed your hand and lifted it to his lips like a true gentlemen.
you felt a little disappointed to not repay the favour, finally feeling content with your formerly repressed lust for the man.
but then he leaned down to your ear and whispered in a low tone, “you can owe me one,” before giving you one last lewd kiss and leaving you stood behind the bookshelves in the head gamemaker’s office with messed up hair and a realisation that you really wanted coriolanus snow to come and visit after hours again tomorrow.
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woewriting · 29 days
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amae (ii)
pairing: cairo sweet | reader summary: cairo's actions continue to frustrate you, but when unspoken words are finally said out loud, you understand her. word count: 4619 warnings: mdni, +18 only! jumpscare: mr. miller, sexual tension, a bit of angst, jealous cairo, small reader x winnie situation, scisorring, face riding (reader receiving), language, smut in general, brief softness.
part 1 . part 2 | masterlist
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Apparently, college parties were a bit different in Tennessee, which was a sweet surprise to you. Different from the ones you were used to back in your hometown, this one was hosted at the English professor’s house  — you noticed as soon as you opened the front door, a picture of him with his wife near the entrance.
You raised your eyebrows when you bumped into your professor, an apologetic smile on his face.
“I didn't see you there, I'm sorry.” He touched your arm in a weak squeeze before placing his hand back in his pocket, the other holding a red mug.
“It's okay, Mr. Miller. I didn't know you would be here.” 
“I always host this reading before the actual party. My wife and I will go on a weekend trip and Winnie asked if she could host a ‘small’ gathering; apparently, the house they usually go to for the party is unavailable. Beatrice left after noon. Smart decision of hers.” You laughed at his expression, knowing damn well it would be anything but small. You could tell by the faces around you that you never saw in any of his classes or readings before. They didn’t exactly fit the ‘tortured-poet’ profile “Are you joining us for the reading? It started a few minutes ago, I just came to the kitchen to get some more coffee. Cairo should start at any moment.”
At the mention of her name, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth and you took a deep breath. 
A week had passed since the girl sat on your lap, kissed you, allowed you to touch her and then started acting as if nothing happened. During classes, you could feel her eyes on you, that uncomfortable feeling of being watched taking over your senses every five minutes, as if she was waiting for you to turn around and smile at her.
But you didn't. You avoided her like the plague. As soon as the class ended, you gathered your materials, plugged in your earphones and left without looking back. 
Winnie complained a few times about your sudden avoidance of her and Cairo, asking non stop what had happened, if she did something that got you upset, but all you could do was apologize and say you had a lot on your mind with finals and assignments with a short deadline. It wasn't a full lie, but the girl could see the change in your expressions.
And now, all that hard work to avoid the brunette would go downhill as she was waiting a couple steps away from where you were standing, waiting for Mr. Miller's returnal so she could read what she had prepared for tonight.
“Cairo and I aren't in the best place right now, if I'm being honest. I didn't know she would be here.” 
“Oh…” The man scratched his chin. “I didn't know that, I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to help, don't hesitate in asking. I know Cairo, she can be… stubborn.”
You bit the inside of your cheeks at the statement. During your first days in Mr. Miller's class, Winnie kept you updated on the strange relationship Cairo had with your now professor; on how starstruck the young writer was at being close to someone she admires and looks up to. It was uncomfortable seeing how close he would be to her, making your stomach twist inside you with anxiety, yet there was nothing you could do as she seemed happy to be noticed by him. 
When you asked about this whole situation to Cairo, trying to disguise your reactions, she told you: “he is someone I admire and I know he can help me with my writing. I look forward to our meetings as I have his attention all to myself.” You gave her a small smile that nearly made your eyes shake. Just like now.
You blinked a few times, pursing your lips together. 
“We'll be fine.” You decided to answer, not truly believing in that. “But I appreciate the offering, Mr. Miller.”
“Anytime.” 
“Does your wife know that soon her house will have drunk people stumbling against the walls?” You asked in an attempt to ease the sudden awkward silence.
“God, no.” He laughed.
“I’ll try to keep the glass decoration in one piece.” Once again his hand rested on your arm for a few seconds in a silent ‘thank you’ before he checked the silvery watch on his wrist. 
“The reading is almost finished. Walk with me?”
Unable to deny the request, you simply nodded, walking in front of the professor as he motioned to you. 
The second you arrived in the living room, your eyes landed on her like a magnet. It might be because she was standing in the improvised stage by the window, or because of the deadly stare she locked on you when you walked in with Mr. Miller by your side. If she had a laser in her eyes, you'd be a sieve by now with thick blood covering the dark wood floor. 
A hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to the corner. Winnie smiled at you, saying she saved you a seat by her side on the couch even though she wasn’t sure you'd be here for the reading. The childish side of yours screamed for you to answer her with: “if I knew she would be here, I wouldn't have come” in a very annoying voice, but you only smiled at her, squirming in the leather couch. 
The room was in complete silence, waiting for the girl staring at you to start her reading. Cairo took a deep breath, licking her dry lips to start. The sun was starting to descend on the window behind her, transforming that whole scene into a beautiful portrait that your mind would keep for as long as you could remember.
“And as I witness her most intense intentions through dark eyes, with hands marking mine own peachy skin in a bruising grasp, I fall asunder above her. My body; weak, begging, pleading for her merciless touch as I watch her slam the door shut. The smell of something burning fills the walls, yet it's not the smoke that leaves my lungs, it's the fog that fills as I turn, fated to fall and fated to fail, and wish for her gaze, my resolute resistance scrawled in sand, tumbling through her open hands just as through the neck of our hourglass.
From the high, the grayness takes form; thick, lascivious, dangerous. The unsureness of faith buries words that one day I aim to say. Miserable thing, watching with tearful eyes as she leaves. The tree branches knock on the window, witnessing the whole pitiful scene engraved in my memory.”
You paid attention to every word she enunciated with a strong, determined voice, it felt like she was trying to open your skull and carve each one onto your brain matter. You felt dizzy at them, heart beating fast against your ribcage. While everyone applauded the young writer, you clenched your jaw, swallowing nothing that would help your sudden dry mouth. 
Cairo smiled, the type of smile that would make anyone drop to their knees and pray for her. Winnie was excited by your side, the subtle scent of alcohol you smelled on her made you laugh. The girl was loud and, at the moment, when all eyes turned to you two, you regretted sitting by her side. From across the living room, your eyes met hers again, now sat beside Mr. Miller while he whispered something in her ear to which she smiled wide, turning to him. 
As another student took over the stage, you couldn’t absorb any words that were said, disappearing into thin air. All you could focus on was Cairo’s hand occasionally touching his forearm when she leaned to say something in his ear, earning a quiet laugh from the professor, the urge to stand up and drag her away from that bothering situation, instead you walked to the kitchen in hopes to find a single drop of alcohol that would make that tension vanish from your body. Soon, Winnie joined you. 
“This is so boring, my God!” She whined, sitting up on the kitchen island while eyeing you up and down in the bright light for the first time. “You’re  overdressed as usual, I see.”
“Your underwear as usual, I see.” Winnie spread her legs as long as the short leather skirt allowed her to, giving you the high quality view of a lacy underwear as she takes the vodka bottle from your hands, taking a long sip, feeling the burning spreading over her chest with a satisfied hum.
“You like?”
You let out a huff, looking away. “You wish.”
“I will kiss you one day.” She said more to herself than to you, like a secret promise that escaped due to the lack of inhibition — not that she had any, even in her sober moments that word didn't exist in her vocabulary.
Shaking your head at her statement, you pulled the sleeves of your sweater, taking the half empty bottle from her hands and getting ready to prepare yourself a drink that didn’t taste like a slow death. 
The reading kept on until the sun was completely set in the horizon, turning the living room into a dark scenario, lit only by the yellowish color from the table lamps. Slowly, the students started leaving while others arrived, walking in the house with bottles and bottles of alcohol, storing them in the kitchen’s fridge.
While you paid attention to the cup in your hands, wondering how long it would take for you to detach from the reality that was drowning you, you felt a bump on your shoulder.
“What is it?” 
Winnie signalized with her head, making you look over your shoulder, witnessing Cairo and Mr. Miller talking near the stairwell that would lead to the second floor of the house. 
“I think he wants to take her upstairs.”
“She can do whatever she wants, Winnie.” You mumbled, trying not to squeeze the cup in your hand when taking a sip. The bitterness making you frown. “Cairo is a big girl.”
“Are you sure about that?” 
“What do you mean?” Turning back to her, your eyebrows sewn together in confusion.
“Because she won’t stop looking at us.” You shrugged, finishing your drink in one long sip. You felt your stomach complain at the big wave of alcohol. 
“She can disappear with him for all I care.”
Winnie tilted her head, still looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes. “Oh, so I shouldn’t say they’re going upstairs and she seems pretty excited about it?”
“Yup, not a single thought about it is on my mind right now.” Grabbing the bottle again from her hands, less subtle and emptier than the first time, you poured yourself a very generous sip on your cup, drowsy smiling to Winnie when you handed over the, now completely empty, bottle. 
As the minutes went by and the alcohol went in, your control over your senses were slowly losing its grip and you started to worry about Cairo against your will. Controlling the impulse to run upstairs as you weren’t drunk enough to blame on the booze, you shook your head, leaning your body against Winnie’s while the girl talked excitedly to a random boy from the football team, your mind too caught up analyzing the things the young writer said earlier to pay attention to any conversation around you. 
The music wasn't loud enough as the professor still hadn't left, but you could feel every beat of it synchronized with the beat of your heart. 
Your fingers found the skin of Winnie's thigh, starting to draw random lines out of boredom. Other than the girl, and Cairo, you weren't familiar with the faces that kept on surging from the front door every five minutes.
“If you keep doing that, I'll drag you upstairs too.” Black whispered, making you tilt your chin up at her.
“Maybe you should.” 
Winnie was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. From the hazel eyes to the plump lips that looked so attractive at that moment, getting closer and closer, making a tingling feeling crawl over your legs like a spider. You wanted to kiss her, and you would have, if it weren't for the footsteps coming from behind you, making Black pull away. You knew it was Mr. Miller, the strong perfume making your nose burn. 
The older man stood in front of you, looking at Winnie who was still seated on the marble island, an innocent glow in her eyes that almost made you laugh, but a hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you away from that situation. All you could hear as you were being dragged to the — now empty — living room was Mr. Miller asking the girl to behave and to not destroy his house or he would fail her. You laughed to yourself.
“Did you seriously allowed Mr. Miller to take me upstairs?” Cairo asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater like a spoiled kid when you refused to look at her, waving at the professor when he turned around to leave, leaving the house and a bunch of teenagers and new-adults unsupervised.
Your eyes were dark and your body a little soft when you stared at her, yet you still were in control of your actions, the drinks just diminished the worry of doing or saying something wrong. At that point, you didn't care about what left your mouth. You wanted to curse the young writer.
“He's our English teacher, not a serial killer.”
“He could've forced me to do something!”
“You seemed pretty excited to go with him. Now, excuse me, I'm gonna find Winnie so we can finish what we were about to start.” Before you could walk past a furious Cairo, her hand, once again, glued to your chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
"What the fuck is wrong with you? You blew me off, Cairo. What did you expect? That I would run after you and beg for your attention?"
"Yes!"
You let out a breathy sigh, the corner of your lips up in disbelief. "You really are so self-centered, you don't care about anyone other than yourself. You're a fucking bitch!"
"And you're dying to fuck this self-centered bitch."
"Not after Mr. Miller, thank you." You scolf sarcastically.
"He didn't fuck me, you idiot.” The hand in your chest grabbed the fabric of your sweater, pulling you down to her so she could whisper with lips nearly pressing on yours. “He wasn't you." 
Her eyes softened as well as the fist that held you in place, moving it to the back of your head. 
Staring at her eyes, you didn't know what to find. You didn't even know what you wanted to find. Maybe a sincere answer.
“Cairo…” You started, sighing against her lips, closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather cohesive words to form a sentence. You blamed the alcohol for this pathetic lack of senses. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to care. I want you to show how desperate you are to have me, how you crave my body in your hands.” You swallowed hard, carefully listening to the whispery confession, the soft motion of her lips grabbing your attention. Once again, you wanted to steal that small freckle from her upper lip. “I want you to burn my skin with your fingers and bruise me with your mouth. And if you really wanted me to be yours, you would've turned around, thrown me on that fucking bed and taken me.” The strong pronunciation of that last part got your body heating up, the urge in your chest spreading in your veins and mixing with the existing alcohol. 
“You’re not very clear in your intentions, Cairo. You’re good at saying everything and nothing.”
Taking your hand, the writer pressed it against her chest. She took a deep breath, goosebumps covering her body at the warm feeling of having your hand touching her again.
“Can you feel that?” You nodded, letting your forehead gently fall against hers. “Do you understand now or do I have to draw it for you?”
Suddenly, your brain became fogged and you were getting lost again. You saw dark brown eyes. You felt a strong bumping in your hands. You smelled woody cologne and cinnamon. Yet, you didn't know where to go. 
“I want you to draw for me.” You said, desperately trying to find the right path.
Cairo nodded her head, pulling you with her once again, but this time, with her fingers intertwined on yours and more gentle than the first time. You trailed behind, careful to not trip on the stairs as she led the both of you somewhere you didn't know, the lights were off on the second floor, making impossible for you to see anything that wasn't right in front of you.
You heard the sound of a door opening and being locked once closed. The moonlight was invading the room through the open curtains. Blinking a few times to adjust the blurred vision, you felt your body being pushed against a soft mattress and a lightweight on top of you.
“I'll draw it for you.” Cairo whispered, pressing her lips on yours in a chaste kiss. “Do you have any idea of what you do to me?” She asked while kissing down your neck, your hands squeezing her waist over the cotton fabric. You shook your head, licking your dry lips, still tasting her lip balm on them. “Here, let me show it to you.” 
Cairo sat on your hips, guiding one of your hands under the white dress, in between her legs. Flashbacks returned and your heart stopped beating for a second while she moved herself on your fingertips, eyes locked on yours, a smirk surging in the darkness. When you moaned at the warmth that embraced your fingers, she did the same.
You breathed out the air that was stuck in your lungs, affected by the scene that unwrapped in front of your eyes. It was a erotic, alluring view, slowly burning itself into your brain like a polaroid. A flash of smile drew on Cairo’s face, satisfied with the reactions coming from you, with the way your eyes stared at her with a dark, flame of desire, lips parted as you struggled to breath.
The cold touch of her rings sent shivers down your spine when her hand wrapped itself around your neck, pressing the sides of it, feeling the pulsating vein under her fingertips. A sob escaping her throat when your fingers easily slipped into her, burying themselves in the warmth of her velvety walls, clenching around you, while the heel of your hand pressed against her swollen clit.
A vile glow shining in the dark brown eyes when she leaned down, squeezing the sides of neck harder as she felt the knot inside her getting tighter. That feeling of desperation growing impatient in her chest.
“Have I lost myself, or have I gained you?” You asked in a soft voice, following a steady pace with your fingers as she moved herself on you. Even when you were the one carrying her in your hands, it was hers that controlled the air in your lungs. 
You’ve always seen Cairo as a spoiled girl that grew up in a big house, having all her wishes wrapped in a pretty paper waiting for her on her bed when she came home from school. But now, as she falls apart in your hands, saying your name like a sacred mantra, you saw beyond words and actions, you saw the urge to be held and cared for, like a little girl that didn’t get a hug after they wake up.  
Staring at her in awe, you felt tears coming to the brim of your eyes, the squeeze cutting every small space for the air to bring you life, but you didn't care, not when you saw the vision of what heaven must be like; the curly brown hair falling over her right shoulder, the soft strands tickling the skin of your neck as she fell over you, hiding on your chest.
Coming down from her high, Cairo carried a sly smile when she looked at you. Her kiss tasted like ashes, bitter, against your tongue. 
“You taste sweet.” The writer whispered in between kisses, sucking your tongue into her mouth over and over, sighing in pleasure at the fingers that slid off of her. Carefully bringing your coated fingers to your mouth, you wrapped your lips around them, being watched with full blown eyes every movement of yours.
“And you taste divine.” 
It only took a millisecond for her lips to meet yours once again, the softness of the act long forgotten as she bit your lower lip, tasting the iron in her tongue with a sadistic smile at the painful cry you let out, squeezing her ass in your hands; burning the peachy skin with your fingertips. The words of her writing echoing inside your brain, spreading it on your blood flow. 
“I like this sweater, you look charming in dark blue.” Her hand found the collar of it, tip of her fingers tracing the skin underneath, making the fabric itch around your neck. “Take it off.” Despite the sweet tone in her voice, you obeyed the breathy order, pulling it over your head and tossing it somewhere in the unknown bedroom. Cairo stood up, removing the brown leather boots and her own dress, the white lacey set that remained on her body making you gulp. 
The writer stood in between your legs, her hands on your hair while yours held her by her waist, goosebumps all over her body as you kissed the toned abs, softly biting the skin.
Cairo looked down at you with curious eyes, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth, admiring the small galaxies your mouth left all over her like she was an empty canvas that needed some color. And you were doing the perfect job, painting an universe on her skin as you knelt down, bringing her underwear along with it. The writer kicked the useless cloth, putting her leg over your shoulder and hooking it behind your head; you salivated at the view of her cunt glistening in front of you. 
One of her hands caressed your face with gentleness, her thumb sliding over your bottom lip before she made you open your mouth, pushing her hips closer to your lips. She was dripping on your tongue, the taste of her filling your mouth as you hummed in pleasure, licking what escaped your agape mouth. 
The big brown eyes stared at you in flames, burning your skin into a bright scarlet crimson. You nudge your nose closer to her, inhaling the intoxicating smell; everything about Cairo was sweet, from her last name, to her voice that could recite the most beautiful poem by core, to the honey flavor slick that dripped from her aching hole, running down her thighs at the view of you ready to worship her, and when your tongue slid in between her folds in a long, slow lick, her head fell back and a shiver went down her spine. 
Pressing your tongue flat over her hardened nub, you closed your eyes, the grip on your hair pulling you impossibly closer. You circled her clit with the tip of your tongue, drawing random patterns with precision on the sensitive nerve, earning yourself a praise that came with a smile when she looked down on you. 
Moving your hands up her thigh, you squeezed the muscle, making her ride on your tongue, aggressively and delicious. The sounds escaping your open mouth reverberated all over her sensitive flesh. 
Cairo was an exhibitionist, she adored having eyes on her all the time, paying attention to every admirable detail that was attached to her. And having you on your knees praying against her cunt was filthy, enticing and agonizing, that heat wave scorching her insides and melting on your tongue, and you made sure to swallow it with a gratifying smile.
You could suffocate in between her legs and it would be a heavenly death. 
Kissing your way up, you brought her body closer, circling her waist as she hooked both legs around you, sliding her tongue over your shiny lips before you dropped her on the bed. Cairo was about to complain at the lack of care, but she soon shut her mouth, watching you kick your converse to the side and unbuttoning the tailored pants that hugged your curves in the right places.
Taking a deep breath, you slid the fabric down, taking your underwear with you, the shyness taking over you once you were free from any cloth covering your body; all this being watched with lustful eyes. 
The young writer’s eyes pierced your soul, engraving in her brain every mole you had around your shoulders, silently choosing her favorite one to add to the list of small details of your body she loved and kept fresh in her memories, always making sure to add ‘em in her writing. It amazes her how you never noticed the importance you had in her work, you were her muse. 
“Come to me.”
She didn’t have to ask twice, at the sound of her sweet voice your feet led your body closer to hers, moving according to her words, your knees sinking in the mattress only to find balance on top of her.  Her hands on your back brought you closer and you fell, once again, into that piquant feeling where it felt like you were about to drown, but her lips on your neck got you breathing in fervor. 
It was easy for the brunette to take control, reversing positions and sitting atop your abdomen, gripping one of your legs and casting one of hers in between them, fitting herself against you. 
“Fuck, Cairo.” You mewl, closing your eyes at the aggressive way she pressed herself down, easily gliding on you. One of your hands found her thigh, squeezing the flesh until it blemished under your fingertips, moving your hips according to the pace she set. It was cruel, desperate, the dark brown eyes fluttering closed. 
The bed slammed against the wall, the old wood-frame fated to snap at any moment; you didn’t care, it was impossible to focus on anything that wasn’t the girl in between your legs, rubbing herself on you with an inner desire to split you in half. You dazed at her, the angelical aura surrounding her like an armor, preventing the sins from escaping the walls of the still unknown bedroom like the squelching noises were, the lewd sounds from the both of you echoing around the hallway for anyone that dared to come closer and press their ears against the locked door. 
When the impetuous climax hit you like a jolt of electricity spreading in your veins, Cairo fell on top of you, exhaustion taking over her senses as well as the tired muscles complaining from all the spasms. 
The writer looked at you, tearful eyes as you soothed her bare back with an equally pleasured expression. Your bodies were weak, relying on each other at such a delicate and overwhelming moment, marked in black and blue by your hands and mouth, a greedy memory that will last. And if it ever vanishes, like the galaxies made out of bruises, all you needed to do is knock on her window.
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liketolovexx · 1 month
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Okay I have a request for Regulus if you’re up for it… how about the reader having to wear him down because he believes he’s unlovable etc etc. but once she does, he’s the biggest softie, always gentle and caring and seeking her presence?? only if you feel like writing it though!!! Kisses
Hii! It’s taking me a while to get round to my requests but everyone feel free to send them in to keep me busy!! Kisses to u too my darling 🫶🫶
I actually turned out really loving this. It turned out a little angstier than I anticipated, though. Sorry.
Unlovable. ~R.A.B
{in which regulus believes no one could ever love him, but you’re here to prove otherwise.}
Regulus had been distant lately.
Avoiding you, which wasn’t normal. Not for you, at least. You’d been best friends, and the moment you started dating, it’s almost like something happened inside of regulus. He wasn’t around you much anymore. It hurt, honestly. To love somebody who hides from you. It took you a trip to the gryffindor common room, begging on your knees, incredibly puppy-eyes (that apparently all of the Black family is weak for, because it made Sirius melt too), a new chocolate bar for Remus and literally just a tight hug for James to get the marauders to lend you the map.
There it was. A pair of dark footprints teetering at the top of the astronomy tower, where you and your boyfriend often snook after hours, labelled ‘Regulus Black’ in elegant italics, much like his own trained penmanship.
The map was on the floor. You could vaguely hear James yelling at you not to drop it while you rushed to the tower. Lead curled around your heart, weighing heavily in your chest as you climbed the steep, eroded steps up to Regulus. You were thinking the worst. Your regulus was going to jump. Moonlight flooded your vision as you emerged, only to see a black silhouette stood precariously at the edge of the balcony. Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped as your very worst fears were reinforced.
“regulus?”
He spun around swiftly, his usual perfect black curls unruly and tousled out of the place by the cold wind. His eyes were wild and panicked and dark bags shadowed shadowed them. he was paler than usual, the white of his skin closely mimicking the pearly hue of the moon that ignited you both. You lifted your arms slowly, as if trying to calm a beast.
“Regulus, it’s me, it’s only me, sweetheart, calm down.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to know why you’ve been ignoring me.”
You said, keeping your tone calm as to not startle him. “Can you please come here? You’re scaring me.” Something changed in his eyes when you spoke that phrase, as if scaring you was out of the picture. He’d never want you to be scared of him, because he was meant to protect you. His rosy lip trembles, and at first you thought it was from the harsh chill of the night air, until it was accompanied by furrowed eyebrows, glossy eyes and him stumbling towards you with his arms outstretched like a child.
“Oh, Reg…” you hummed, cupping the back of his head with your hand as you tucked his face into your neck. His back started to heave with sobs so you used your other hand to rub soothing circles across his shoulders. “It’s so cold out here, you’re gonna-“
“Why do you fucking love me?” Regulus growled, his grip on you tightening almost aggressively.
“What?” You whisper, fear seeping into your veins. But in your heart, you knew regulus would never hurt you. He raised his head, staring deep into your eyes, face glazed in a mixture of frustration and despair.
“Why do you love me?”
You were silent. Why did you love regulus? Well, he was kind. Not to everyone, but to those he trusted, those he loved. He was incredibly loyal. He was a sensitive soul, underneath his facade. He was soft. He was beautiful. He was yours. But you couldn’t find the words to even begin to express the reasons behind your adoration for him.
“Regulus, you are… everything.”
His face changed. He looked almost bewildered, confused.
“What? I’m not anything. I’m from a family of fucking blood supremacists, I’m-“
You kissed him. He shut up in seconds when your lips pressed to his. “You’re fucking perfect. And you’re not them, Regulus. You’re perfect.” You told him sternly, gripping his shoulders hard, but gently. He broke down again, his face scrunching up as the tears began to fall. You pulled him in again. “No… no, I don’t deserve this. I- I don’t.” You shushed him, stroking his hair. “You deserve everything. And I love you. You deserve love most of all, Reggie.”
A week or so later…
Regulus was curled into your side in the slytherin common room. No one was there except him, Barty, and Evan. He’d fallen asleep with his head on your chest, and you didn’t have the heart to wake him to go to class, so Evan and Barty jumped at the chance to skip with you two. Though, Barty couldn’t refrain from making dramatic gagging noises whilst gripping Evan’s shoulder and lurching forwards every time regulus nuzzled closer to you in his sleep. He teased, sure, but really, he knew his friend had never been happier. He’d never seen regulus with so much sparkle in his eye. He’d never seen regulus so lovesick.
He’d never seen regulus so touchy with somebody.
He’d never seen him trust so deeply. love so unconditionally.
~~~
Please don’t copy any of my work!!
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stylesharrys · 1 month
Text
hot distraction [bisexual!y/n]
authors note: a little cheeky subby!y/n smut for you guys, had this idea in my drafts for months and months but i never really got round to writing it. anyway, here you go darlings, enjoy <3
warnings: dom/sub relationships, unprotected sex, kissing, teasing, swearing, spanking, dirty talk, anal (fingering)
word count: 2,862
summary: y/n breaks up with her girlfriend and harry helps take her mind off things.
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//
Harry has no idea what to do. He’s never seen her cry before and he doesn’t know if he should give her a hug or try to make light of the situation.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
Harry’s even more confused than he was before. He’ll never ever understand women’s emotions. And by the sight before him, he doesn’t think he ever wants to.
“S’okay, petal. It hurts now but it’ll be a distant memory in a few weeks time.”
She scoffs at him, at his sorry attempt to cheer her up. Y/N doesn’t need or want pity. She wants to warn off all women and whore it up for a little bit.
If she’s honest, the breakup has been a long time coming. They’d only been together six months but things weren’t the same as when they first met.
Alora was a beautiful woman, funny and kind. But the first few times of fooling around were a lot more exciting than six months in, where her sex drive seemed to just vanish.
Y/N has thought that perhaps she was the problem. Maybe she craves sex too much and too often and that’s the issue. She also thought that maybe she secretly had a fear of commitment and that’s what made her more than okay with Alora calling things off.
She knows now that’s not the case. Alora was seeing other people behind Y/N’s back. Given, they never really spoke about being exclusive, but Y/N had just assumed that if Alora was seeing other people, she’d have the decency to let Y/N know.
And now, she’s about ready to swear off all women.
She stands from the sofa, wiping the tears from her face and taking a shaky breath. There’s no way in hell she’s going to ruin her Friday night sobbing over another woman. No fucking chance.
“Do you have plans tonight?” she asks Harry, chin raised as she acts unbothered by her situation.
Harry shakes his head. “No, why? You wanna go out?”
Her lip is taut between her teeth as she considers the proposition. A night out could be perfect – sex with a hot, random stranger will most definitely take her mind off things.
She nods, once. But it’s like Harry can smell the hesitation. He squints at her, leaning forward in his spot on the sofa.
“You’re not just wanting to go out so you can have a one night stand, are you?”
“No!” her voice is high-pitched, a dead giveaway that that’s exactly what she plans on doing.
Harry huffs, closing his eyes for a moment. It’s no secret that he’s got the hots for Y/N. He’s always found her incredibly attractive. But in the two years he’s known her, she’s only ever dated women.
He doesn’t think there’s ever even been an instance where she’s acknowledged another man. Harry notices her sheepish expression and his tummy knots and twists.
“If you were into guys…” he mumbles out, more to himself but it still reaches Y/N’s ears and she frowns.
“I am.”
Harry’s head snaps up, staring at her in bewilderment. “You are? I thought you were gay.”
Y/N laughs softly. “I am… slightly. I prefer men usually, but women are just softer and more attentive I find.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, a cocky smirk on his lips. Bingo.
“That just means you’ve never been with the right guys.”
His voice has grown deeper, sultry. And the entire mood of the room has changed. There’s a tension in the atmosphere, one they’re both awfully familiar with but never with one another.
“Is that so?”
They’re dancing on a tight rope between friends and something more, neither too sure who’s going to fall first. It feels naughty, wrong. So wrong to allow this tension, these thoughts.
But there’s nothing inappropriate about it. They’re both single, consenting adults. What would it matter if he kissed her? If she kissed him back? If he spent an hour between her legs and had her creaming all over his cock?
“And from what you’ve been telling me, wasn’t you getting frustrated that Alora was too vanilla?”
Heat rises to her cheeks at his words. Harry moves closer, tips of his fingers ghosting are her bare thighs, the hem of her baggy t-shirt barely covering her knickers underneath.
“Something tells me, you don’t want something soft. You’ve just never been manhandled the way you want, so you’re taking the easier route.”
Y/N has never felt so seen in her life. “Isn’t that right, pet?”
She grows shy under his words, feeling small and vulnerable and her little panties are fucking soaked.
“Maybe,” she squeaks.
Harry’s smirk grows tenfold, eyes dark and lustful. His gaze never leaves her face as he stands in front of her. His tall build towering over Y/N’s.
“Personally, I think you just want to be a good girl…”
His hand finds her face, gently caressing her jaw as he speaks. When her eyes flutter closed absentmindedly, she hears Harry tut before her.
“Keep those pretty eyes open, puppy.”
Her eyes open, wide. All doe-like and fluttery. It awakens that hunger deep in Harry’s stomach – one full of need and desire.
“Y/N… d’you like it when I call you puppy?”
She nods, so innocent and sheepish. It has Harry’s cock twitching in his pants. God, she’s going to be the death of him.
Y/N’s nuzzling her face into his hand, eyes heavy but open, like she doesn't want to be scolded by Harry. He pouts down at her, a look of sympathy in his eyes and Y/N’s never felt so warm and safe.
“My poor petal, all touch starved and needy.”
It’s like a flip has been switched within her. She’s no longer that bubbly and bratty girl he’s always known. She’s soft and quiet, desperate and eager to please and Harry is stretching out his boxers.
“Go in your bedroom for me, puppy. Want you naked with your legs spread.”
He places a gentle kiss to her lips, barely offering a taste of what’s to come. The act has her heart leaping before she rushes to her bedroom to rid herself of any clothes.
She’s never allowed herself to look at Harry in the way she is now. She always told herself that friends are only friends and never to indulge in anything else with them.
Y/N can admit that she’s always found him attractive, always enjoyed his company and mayb often stared a little too long whenever he was topless or when the veins in his arms and hands were that little bit more visible than usual.
She supposes he’s always had some sort of chokehold on her, something she’s never thought too deep about. But now, she can’t get out of her head. Laying naked on her bed, legs spread as he approaches her bedroom door.
She’s pulsing, cunt hot and leaking. God, she doesn't remember the last time she felt this turned on, this excited, this ready to submit completely.
Whatever he wants, she’ll give him. Whatever he offers, she’ll take.
Harry eyes her as he enters her bedroom, gaze focused on that weeping little cunt. He’s holding his breath, fighting back a wanton cry. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so sexy in his life.
Y/N watches with glossy eyes as he tugs his t-shirt over his head, the ripples of his golden skin exciting her more. If he’ll let her, she’ll happily lick the expanse of every single tattoo adoring his body.
She’ll do anything. Anything.
Her hips begin to squirm as his thumbs loop into the waistband of his shorts and boxers, anticipation getting the better of her. Harry notices, pulls his hands away and raises a brow.
“I don’t remember saying you could move.”
Y/N’s body stills, blood running cold. Her lips are pursed into a thin line – “I’m sorry.” Her words come out shyly, like she’s embarrassed to be told off.
Harry tuts, no longer interested in pulling himself free. Instead he moves toward the foot of the bed and climbs up on his knees, sitting between her shaking thighs.
Y/N’s chest is heaving in excitement, bottom lip gnawed between her teeth. Harry reaches for her left thigh, gently massaging the soft and supple skin before raising his hand and dropping it again in a harsh smack.
She shrieks at the unexpected impact, brows knitted as she bites back a moan.
Oh, he wasn’t fucking around.
“If you’re sorry then you’ll lay on your tummy and take your punishment.” He flips her over before she has chance to register his words. Flat on her stomach, hands held behind her back, Harry takes her in.
He lets his hand caress her hips for a moment, trailing down to her bum and he smoothes over the skin. “And I don’t want to hear a fucking sound.”
He spanks her once, her entire body jolting. Y/N buries her face into her pillows, suffocating any desperate moans that beg to be cried. She keeps quiet, eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Harry spanks her again, harder this time. His hand print is left on her supple skin and he groans to himself. He spreads her cheeks apart for a moment, allows himself the sight of her dripping cunt, eagerly trying to clench around something.
“Look at you, puppy. So wet and good for me.”
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
Her bottom is sore, stinging as he finally relents. There’s tears in her eyes as she struggles to compose her breathing. She’s not brave enough to admit she almost came from her punishment.
Harry takes a moment to admire his work, how raw her pretty bum is. Her skin is beginning to rise in the form of his handprint, sore and tender. He holds her hips, thumbs rubbing along the stripey lines of silvering stretch marks on the sides of her bum.
“Pretty puppy, did so well for me.”
She coos at his praise, fingers wiggling in an attempt to feel him. Harry chuckles, leaning down to pepper kisses to her bum and up her spine. He fools her with his kindness for a moment, allowing her body to relax under his touch.
But when his lips reach her neck, he grabs a handful of her hair and yanks her head up, teeth nipping at her jaw and nosing at her ear.
“Now you’re going to be a good puppy and let Daddy fuck your pretty little hole, okay?”
Y/N’s cunt throbs at his words. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck, she can’t get it out of her head. Harry releases his hold on her hair, her face dropping back into her pillows as he clambers off her.
He strips from his boxers and shorts, thick length smacking at his lower tummy as he clambers back onto the bed again. Harry’s hard, painfully so and Y/N wants nothing more than to lay on her back and watch him work his way around her body.
But he doesn’t allow that. Instead, his hands find her hips and he’s hoisting her bum in the air, back arched and chest to the mattress with her face buried in the pillows.
The sight is mesmerising and Harry can’t look away. Pretty pussy all wet and plump. The tip of his cock slides through her slit and Harry lets out a shaky whimper. A noise that does not go unheard by Y/N, who’s jaw slacks at the sound of it.
She’s eager for more, gagging for his cock. She’s never felt so submissive in her life, so willing to be used as a fuck toy. And she never would’ve pegged Harry for the type.
Y/N supposes he does possess a lot of dominant qualities. Whenever he speaks, all eyes are on him. Whatever he says, it’s always respected. And when Harry doesn’t like something, nobody challenges him.
It’s been right in front of her the whole time. They’ve both been so blind.
“So pretty, baby. Look at you.”
The praise goes straight to her head. She’s woozy and needy and thinks she might fucking cry if he doesn’t fill her with his cook soon.
“Daddy’s good little puppy. Want me to fill your little hole, baby? Want Daddy to fuck you so hard you can’t even remember your name?”
Y/N’s too deep into subspace to respond, but that’s not a good enough excuse for Harry. He strikes down on her sore bum again and she shrieks, nodding feverishly.
“Yes, Daddy! Please, I’ve been so good.”
The sound of her begging is something Harry will never let himself forget. Her body responds to every tiny touch he offers, she keens for him. For more.
Lining himself at her hole, Harry pushes forward just enough to allow her half of his length. A wanton cry escapes her lips, muffled by her pillow as her body tenses.
Harry gives her little time to adjust to his length, sheathing himself further into her tight hole until he bottoms out.
Y/N struggles to stay quiet, struggles to not reach for him, to touch him. Harry reaches for her hands again, pulling them behind her back and holding her in place by her wrists.
“You’re fucking soaked, puppy.” He praises, breathless at the sight of himself tucked deep inside her.
Harry begins to rock his hips, slowly at first until he finds a comfortable pace and her ass jiggles with every thrust he gives. Y/N’s cunt grips him like a vice, obscene noises filling their ears and Harry decides he wants to hear more.
“Wanna hear you, puppy. Tell Daddy how good it feels.”
Y/N is wailing the second she’s given permission, wild and desperate and begging for more and more and more.
Harry’s thumbing at her puckering asshole, softly smoothing over the taut skin as Y/N begins to buck her hips back into him. He’s seething through gritted teeth, struggling to keep himself together as he gently pushes his thumb into her tight hole.
“Yes, Daddy! Please… please….”
She’s incoherent as she tries to speak, words still muffled and gurgled. She can feel him in her stomach, filling every inch of her body and subconscious mind. As if she exists solely for him, for his pleasure.
“My sweet girl, taking me so well. Look at you, puppy. All dumb for my cock.”
Harry’s thrusts get harder and faster, his thumb lodged deep in her ass as he fucks into her. Y/N’s arousal soaks his pubic bone, skin slapping and gruff moans echoing through.
She can’t stay quiet, not even if she tried. Moans are tearing throug her throat with no sense of hesitancy, her entire body being rocked as Harry pummels into her.
Eyes rolling to the back of her head, jaw slack, she’s close. Her cunt begins to tighten around him, desperate to mild him dry for everything he has to offer. And Harry can feel it – he feels every little squeeze she gives him, every spasm of her slick pussy.
His spare hand smacks down on her bum in quick, constant successions, his pace impossibly faster and the breath is knocked from her lungs.
She can’t see, can’t think, can’t hear. It’s like her soul has left; experiencing eternal bliss for the first time in her life. But she feels Harry’s fat cock twitch between her walls, she feels the stinging bite of every spank, she feels her coil begin to tighten and pull.
“You gonna cum, puppy? You gonna cum all over my cock?” Harry pants.
She’s nodding, unable to find her words. It takes her a moment to catch a breath. “Please,” is all she can manage to whimper out, her entire body on fire.
Harry spanks her again, eager and hot moans bubbling from his chest. “Cum, puppy. Make a mess on Daddy’s cock.”
Y/N’s entire body begins to tremble relentlessly, a high pitched whine falling off her tongue as she explodes around him.
Her arousal coates his cock and stomach, squirting out the best it can with Harry’s length still shoved in her cunt. The sight of her squirting all over him has him seeing stars, and he’s quick to pull out, coating her back and bum in thick ribbons of arousal.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
He’s a panting mess as Y/N’s hips fall onto the mattress with a soft thud. He watches her body move gently as she catches her breath, listens to the soft pants that escape her plump lips.
Only now does he realise, he’s yet to kiss her the way he’s been dreaming. Harry crawls beside her, brushing the hair from her face and she’s quick to nuzzle into his touch.
He moves closer, his lips encapsulating hers in a soft and tender kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed and their mouths work in unison, gently. Y/N never knew she’d crave the taste of someones lips until Harry pulls away and rests his forehead against hers.
“Have a nap, puppy. You’ll need your energy for later.”
//
thank you for reading, i'd love to hear your guys' thoughts on this one 🥺
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gojoux · 9 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒
Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.
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◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
He would immediately notice your broken swimsuit bra strap. He'd raise an eyebrow and smirk, thinking you've done it on purpose. He leans in with a teasing smile, “Oh~ it seems your bra is broken.” He says casually as he shamelessly eyeing your chest from behind his glasses. “Don't worry, your amazing boyfriend got your back.” He'd caress the area on your back where the strap is located, then down to your waist, and he'd just enjoy the view of your back as he bite his lower lip and fix the problem later.
◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
He looks at you a bit surprised but quickly moves in front of you to cover your front view from everyone's eyesight. “That is unfortunate.” He'd chuckle at the situation and hold your upper arm, rubbing your skin with his thumb to comfort you, and you'd notice that he's eyeing you from up and down. Geto would take off his shirt and put it on to you, “Here, use my shirt while we buy a new one.” He'll rub your back where the strap used to be from under the shirt.
◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
Sukuna looks at you stunned for a second. He's enjoying the sight of your body, and the broken bra strap is just another point for his own desires. You'd also notice something different with him. He's looking at your bra strap break with lust and satisfication. He would smirk at you, “That was my doing. I like how a piece of fabric makes you so flustered.” He'd lean in, nibble your neck and caress the skin of your chest before whispering, “It just turned me on.” No wonder he was staring at you up and down.
◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
He's attentive and he'd stand up from his seat before grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer, “Let me help you with your bra right now so you can fix your little ‘careless issue’.” He'd place one hand behind your back and one hand on your waist to hold you close. “Don't worry, we can go shopping for you later so that we can pick out a better swimsuit bra for you.” Despite his usual collected self, he has to admit that you look cute in a broken bikini bra like this.
◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
Choso would look at you in surprise first before he notices how he's currently looking at your chest, then his eyes would look all over the place as if there's something that catches his attention. He would quickly look away and clear his throat as he scrambled to take off his jacket and place it on your shoulder, holding it in place. “You can't use that anymore... Do you want me to untie it for you and buy a new one?” He knows that a broken bra would be inappropriate to show off, but he secretly likes what he's seeing anyway.
◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
As he notices your broken swim bra strap, he'll take a few moments to appreciate and observe your figure. This man would smirk at you with an amused expression while he thinks of different scenarios in his head. He'd chuckle and say, “You know, you shouldn't try to break your bra to grab someone's attention. You already have mine anyway.” He'd then smile slyly, “Do you want me to buy you a new swim bra or will you keep the swim top off?” He'd enjoy looking at you trying to hold onto your top, “I like the latter better though.”
◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
Megumi notices immediately and is left shocked for a moment, his cheeks are flushed. His heart starts beating a lot faster as he looks at the broken strap. Then, he looks at you and notices how embarrassed you are about it. “Oh, is your bra broken? Here, I'll untie it for you so you can change quickly.” Megumi would hold your shoulder and help take off the broken strap, and he does it slowly since he's distracted by the sigh of your bare back with a gulp and acts like nothing happened once he's done.
◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
“What's wrong?” He turned his head when he heard a snap coming from you. There's a faint blush on his cheeks and his eyes wander down, then he realizes that you can see him looking and the corner of his lips curl into a smile. “Uh, what do you think? Do you just want to continue swimming or go buy a new one right now?” Itadori has never experienced someone with a broken bra before, and he wants to see more. He doesn't seem to mind you swimming shirtless with him, but he knows that he got to buy a new one fast and sprints out of the water towards the nearby shop.
◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
Yuta stops for a moment to look at you. His smile fades and his eyes open widely. “Huh? Your swimsuit bra broke?” He would immediately start blushing from face to neck as he looks at you, and then down at your half-covered chest. “Let's go buy a new swimsuit together," he'd take off his shirt and put it on you, “Or would you rather wait here while I buy it for you?” He'd smile assuringly at you. But he'd come back from the store without the new swimsuit because he doesn't know your size. Don't worry, he gets it for you anyway.
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Just some random thoughts 😭✌️ 7292th repost 💀
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misshoneyimhome · 1 month
Text
Say My Name, Say My Name I Jack Hughes 🖋️⚡️🔥
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Requested? Yes / No
Summary; Based on the Tik Tok trend, calling your boyfriend “husband”
Tropes & warnings; established relationship; Tik Tok trend; slight angst due to brief fight, smut 18+, oral sex (f recieving), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;
Other notes: So, for the third and final story of this TikTok trend, we're getting a little steamy with none other than Jack H 🌶️ This was another idea I had on how to approach this trend, and I don't really have anything to say in my defence, besides, please enjoy 😉🤍
Word count; 2.1K
・✶ 。゚
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In the warmth of your relationship with Jack Hughes, every day felt like a new adventure. For the past year, you hadn’t just been lovers; you were partners in crime, best friends with an undeniable chemistry that set your hearts ablaze. From lazy Sunday mornings tangled in sheets to intense moments after hockey games, your love knew no bounds. Every day brought something different, and you never knew whether you’d be sharing heartfelt laughter and deep talks, or cutting through tension after a loss, eventually ending in a steamy bedroom scenario.
Amidst the sweet and romantic moments, it felt like nothing was missing, which often led you to feel tempted to tease your boyfriend and push the limits a little. And it was during one of your leisurely scrolls through TikTok that inspiration struck—a harmless prank that promised to inject a spark of mischief into your casual off day.
The trend was simple enough: to capture your boyfriend’s reaction as you playfully refer to them as your ‘husband’. It was meant to be a light-hearted jest, a momentary tease to evoke slight panic or something similar. And as you watched video after video, giggles escaping your lips, you couldn't shake the urge to try it out with Jack.
So, as you settled into the familiar routine of a Starbucks run, anticipation danced in your veins, fuelled by the excitement of the impending prank. With your boyfriend at the wheel and the camera discreetly capturing every moment, you couldn't contain the mischievous grin tugging at your lips.
Then as the drive-through speaker crackled, you leaned forward, all set to carry out your plan. "Hi, can I get a venti caramel macchiato for me and... a tall black coffee for my husband please?” you said, putting playful emphasis on the last word, your eyes briefly darting to Jack, waiting for his reaction.
But much to your surprise and disappointment, Jack stayed cool, his expression unmoved as he kept his focus on the road. There were no raised eyebrows, no startled gasp, just a chilly demeanour that hid the turmoil underneath.
For a moment, a wave of let-down washed over you, the excitement of the prank fading away in the face of Jack's stoic response. Had you misjudged the situation? Was this playful gesture not funny? Doubt gnawed at you, overshadowing the usual playful banter that defined your relationship.
Then upon receiving your drinks and heading back home, the tension hung in the air like an unwelcome guest. Jack's subtle change in attitude didn't escape notice, and the gap between you seemed to widen slowly, casting a shadow over what should have been a fun moment.
And as you felt a twinge of guilt, you decided to cautiously bring up the issue, yet his response left you stunned, his words slicing through the air with a sharpness that caught you off guard.
"I just don't get why you'd call me your husband when I'm not," Jack said firmly, a hint of frustration in his voice. And your attempts to play down the prank as harmless banter fell flat, as Jack's withdrawn attitude contrasted sharply with your usual playful exchanges.
Then finally returning at home, you tried unsuccessfully to ease the tension with a movie. Despite your efforts to distract yourselves, the unresolved tension still lingered beneath the surface, and unable to bear the silence any longer, you turned to Jack once more, the need for clarity outweighing the fear of confrontation. So, with hesitant words and trembling hands, you moved closer to him.
“Please, talk to me, Jack… it was just a joke.”
As you looked into Jack's troubled eyes, his struggle to express himself mirrored your own inner turmoil, and for a moment, silence hung heavily between you.
Then, like a dam breaking, his words suddenly spilled out, each one filled with raw honesty. "It just hit me," he began, his voice tinged with disbelief. "I just… I think I've realised that this... this, us, a future with you, it's what I want."
Initially, you felt a bit confused. Wasn’t that supposed to be a good thing?
But Jack's confession still hung in the air. "And it scared me, alright," he admitted, his uncertainty evident yet softening with each breath. "I've never felt like this before, not so quickly, not with anyone. So, I guess… I don’t know… I just got a little shocked that this - you and me - is real, and it’s all I want. But at any given point you can just walk away, and I could actually get really hurt." His words filled the silence that followed with a heavy weight.
For Jack, the fast growth of his emotions was both thrilling and terrifying. The idea of allowing himself to love, of exposing his vulnerabilities, filled him with a sense of panic he hadn't experienced before.
And surprised by his admission, you found yourself swept up in a whirlwind of feelings. So, without saying a single word, you simply leaned in and closed the gap between you, your lips meeting his in a tender yet fervent kiss, as in that moment, words seemed insufficient to convey the depth of your emotions.
Pulling back from the kiss, you gazed into Jack's eyes, a gentle smile forming on your lips. "Was that it?" you whispered softly. "Jack, I’m not going anywhere."
You felt an immediate sense of relief from him as you sat closely together on the sofa, his arms enveloping your smaller frame.
“Good,” he breathed out softly. “Because I just know that I love you… but I don’t think I’m ready for more yet… So, if that’s what you want to stay with me...” he let out a defeated sigh, nut you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. 
“Don’t worry, babe, that’s not what I want… I told you, it was just a joke,” you explained softly, flashing him a sweet smile as you gently ran your fingers through his brown locks. “I love you too – and though maybe I do want that someday, we don’t have to rush into anything.”
And with those words, a sense of tranquillity enveloped both of you, the uncertainty fading away with each heartbeat. Sealing your connection once more with a passionate kiss, you found yourself melting into Jack’s embrace as he smoothly pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to nestle a little closer against his chest as the kiss deepened.
It felt almost hungry as he gently urged his tongue past your lips, a commanding gesture to which you willingly gave in to. As he explored your mouth, engaging in a sensual dance with your intertwined tongues, you instinctively began to sway your hips against his, your bodies moving together in a rhythm of desire.
Jack's hands found your hips, his grip firm as he guided your movements with a subtle urgency, indicating his own longing for more. Soft moans escaped both of you into the passionate kiss, and as your bodies pressed closer, the inevitable became clear.
With Jack's hungry lips locked onto yours, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, only briefly breaking away from the heat of the moment as he carried you towards the bedroom with purpose. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips, your hands moving from his hair to gently cup his cheek as you wrapped your thighs around his waist.
And upon reaching the bed, Jack gently placed you down, breaking the kiss to gaze at you with an expression of pure desire and darkened eyes. In that moment, you knew there was no resisting him, and just by the intensity of his gaze, you surrendered completely to him.
Your eyes were fixed intently on him as he peeled off his t-shirt, revealing his sculpted athlete's chest. Then, with a casual ease, he lowered his sweatpants, unveiling his growing member snugly confined within his tight boxers.
You couldn’t help but sensually lick your lips at the sight of your stunning boyfriend standing before you. And as he slowly moved to kneel between your parted legs on the bed, anticipation tingled through you.
A smirk played on his lips as Jack maintained his intense gaze on you, considering how to pleasure you in a way only a devoted boyfriend could. And without hesitation, he swiftly removed any barriers of clothing to your naked form, his focus solely on making you his own.
With expert precision, he leaned in, his head descending towards your throbbing core. Then planting delicate kisses along your inner thighs, he savoured the anticipation before finally allowing his tongue to explore your sweet honey, tracing the contours of your folds.
An involuntary moan escaped your lips as his mouth made contact with your sensitive flesh, your fingers instinctively gripping the sheets beneath you as Jack delved deeper. His arms held your hips firmly in place as he employed his entire mouth to stimulate your core, alternating between sucking on your clit and teasing your entrance with his tongue.
You were lost in ecstasy, your mind drifting into a blissful haze, as your senses were overwhelmed by pleasure. Your vision blurred, and amidst incoherent whispers and moans escaping your lips, you felt a powerful wave of sensation coursing through your body. And when Jack then added two fingers to the equation, gently easing them inside you to massage your walls, you knew an orgasm was imminent. Your head tilted back; your body arched as you reached to new heights of a climax.
Jack's mastery with his mouth was undeniable, and he knew it. So, with a confident smirk, he shifted position, leaning over you as his throbbing member sought entrance. Meeting you in another passionate kiss, he then pushed his length inside you, simulating every inch he could touch.
“Oh, yes…” you gasped as he filled you, your hands finding their way to the back of his shoulders as he began to move his hips, his shaft gliding effortlessly in and out of you.
“Mmm, baby, you feel so good around me,” he whispered huskily in return, desire evident in his voice as he relished the sensation of your tight muscles embracing his sensitive member with each thrust.
And as your harmonious moans filled the room and your bodies melded together, drawing closer to the peak of pleasure, there was nothing but profound love and devotion between you. The tension and fighting of earlier moments faded away, just as they had many times before.
Your bodies were like build for each other, and as the sound of your skin meeting with each powerful thrust echoing through the room, Jack then took a firm hold of your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head, as he intensified his pace with eager, forceful thrusts that sent your mind spinning.
His movements were vigorous, yet undeniably exhilarating, as each thrust hit your most sensitive spot with precision, pushing you closer to another orgasm.
And Jack could feel the heat building within him, fuelled by the sight of the passion he was igniting in you. Though the absence of a ring on your finger signifying your commitment, he knew without a doubt that you belonged to him, and no one else could satisfy you the way he could.
His breaths were ragged, his lungs desperate for air as he maintained his rhythm. And he couldn’t deny that you were incredibly beautiful as he turned you into his very own mess, each moan and gasp driving him further into a frenzy of desire.
“Mmm, yes, baby,” he muttered, his moans mingling with yours in the air. “Would a husband fuck you like this? Would he make you feel this good?”
Though his questions were rhetorical, you were unable to form coherent sentences, your responses drowned out by the symphony of pleasure escaping your lips.
“Mmm…”
And as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy and your walls tightened around him, Jack increased his speed, propelling you into another wave of pleasure. His name tumbled from your lips in a loud, fervent cry as you succumbed to the intoxicating rush of sensation once more.
His grip around your wrists tightened, almost cutting off your blood flow, as he delivered a few final forceful thrusts. And with a deep grunt, Jack reached his climax, releasing himself into your depths.
The air hung heavy with the aftermath of their intense lovemaking; the room filled with the scent of raw, passionate sex. Jack thrust a few more times to ensure he had emptied himself completely before slowly releasing his grip, both of you now catching your breath.
It was intense, the only sounds filling the room were your laboured breaths as Jack slowly withdrew and rolled over to lie beside you. Wrapping his arm around you, he pulled you close for a tender cuddle, your warm bodies sharing sweat, and heat as satisfied smiles graced your faces.
It was the perfect conclusion to a prank gone wrong, and in that moment, you knew there was nothing to worry about. You belonged to Jack, and he belonged to you, regardless of titles.
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