#ditzy rants | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

houseofceline · 5 months

Text

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Pretty Bow Cardigan

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo hates listening to rants but he could listen to you talk about your sweater for hours.

< 4

__________________

You nibbled on your bottom lip as you looked around the classroom.

You were one of the first to finish your exams which is very unusual, resulting in an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You felt like you had done all the problems wrong.

The test felt really easy in the worst way possible.

You watched as Theo stood up from his stool to hand in his paper.

He was better than you in potions and the fact that you had finished before him made you want to vomit up your breakfast.

As he walked back to his desk you locked eyes with him.

He took his hands and did a thumbs up and down, as a question to you.

You tilted your thumbs up till it was in the middle.

So,so.

He smiled and even though there was nothing to smile about considering you probably just failed another test, you smiled back anyways because his smile was just that contagious.

There was nothing you could do now but hope.

—-------------------

“THEO THEO!” You ran after him after catching sight of him in the hallways.

Theo looked around confused, tense even, but instantly relaxed as he saw you running towards him with a paper in hand.

His smile matched the big bright one on your face and he held his arms out.

You ran into his chest and in the heat of the moment he picked you up and spun you around.

“Bro wh-” Lorenzo was cut off by Mattheo who covered the boy’s mouth before dragging him away, letting the two have their moment.

“Look Theo, look!” You exclaimed as you held up your test paper, waving it in his face.

A big E marked on the top right corner, the best test grade you’ve ever received in that class.

“Congratulations bella,” he praised and reciprocated your smile as he took the paper from your hands before holding it out like he was examining it.

You blushed at his compliment now getting shy. All you wanted to do now was go back into his arms and hide in his chest so he wouldn’t catch you getting all worked up over a simple praise.

“This deserves a special reward,” Theo stated as he handed you back your paper and patted your head.

He pushed one of your hair strands out of your face and looked down at you.

“There’s a hot chocolate shop in Hogsmeade, if you’re up for it this weekend,” Theo placed his hands in the pockets of his robe, feeling a little nervous for your answer.

You nodded eagerly. You loved chocolate. The rich and creamy taste and the way it just melts in your mouth. Not only was it good in candy form, but literally in everything else. Well besides cake. Chocolate cake is one of the worst things ever.

It was simply too much chocolate and it tastes so dry and makes you want to throw up.

However vanilla cake with chocolate icing, that you would die for.

“Alright I’ll come get you Saturday morning at ten,” Theo chuckled trying to bring you back to him as he watched you get lost in thought.

“See you soon bella.”

You grinned happily to yourself as he walked away.

Saturday. That was tomorrow!

What were you even going to wear? There’s not enough time, there is nothing in your closet.

You had to calm down. It wasn’t even a date, you reminded yourself.

Getting all worked up over a simple hang out was silly.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves.

Too bad it’s not working.

You’re hanging out with a super attractive guy all by yourself.

You were scared and nervous, never hung out with a guy alone before.

At least you were getting hot chocolate out of this.

Hmm you wonder if they have whipped cream. You didn’t like any marshmallows in your hot chocolate because you drank it so fast the marshmallows wouldn’t even melt all the way therefore it was too sweet when you ate the half melted marshmallow at the end.

All you needed was whipped cream and a candy cane.

—-------------------

“Y/n you’re going to be fine. You look amazing,” Cho assured, sitting on her bed as you tried on multiple pieces of clothing.

You had 10 more minutes until Theo’s arrival and technically you were ready 30 minutes ago but suddenly you decided that you didn’t look nice anymore.

“I don’t think I knitted this correctly,” you frowned, examining your cardigan.

A miniature mistake. You would have to really, really pay attention to detail to recognize it, but since you were already critiquing everything miniature about yourself, it was a huge mistake.

“Theo is not going to notice it babe I promise, and plus you made the whole thing yourself! In my eyes that’s really impressive,” Cho claimed as she walked out of the dorm to check if Theo was here yet.

You eyed yourself in the mirror one last time.

White knitted cardigan with a bow in the back, black jeans, and your favorite white fur snow boots.

This wasn’t even a date, you reminded yourself for the hundredth time this past hour.

Stop overthinking.

“Theo’s here,” Cho peeked her head into the dorm.

“Good luck babes, I expect a big debriefing session after,” she called out to you as you left.

“Hello..” you drawled out quietly waving as you approached Theo.

He was wearing a navy blue sweater with the Slytherin scarf wrapped around his neck which put great emphasis on his eyes and broad shoulders.

“Morning bella,” Theo greeted happily, holding out a hand to you.

You cheesed and placed your hand into his.

“Do a spin for me bella ragazza,” he lifted your hand up and eyed you up and down as you spun around.

Even if it was an Italian word you didn’t know Theo still made it sound attractive, maybe you shouldn’t have worn a sweater from the quick rising of your body heat.

“Cute cardigan,” he complimented as he kept your hands intertwined, beginning your walk to Hogsmeade.

“Thank you! I made it myself!” You looked up at him proudly while your other hand was toying with the hems.

Theo could’ve swore that your eyes were the sparkliest things he’s ever seen. He felt as if could spend forever studying and mapping out the constellations in your eyes.

“Really?” Theo gaped even though it wasn’t a huge surprise to him since he’s seen your sketches.

“Yes!” You exclaimed happily knowing that there was finally someone other than your friends who cared about your passions and supported them.

The two of you continued to walk hand in hand towards Hogsmeade. You talked and rambled on about the whole design process of your top while Theo pretended like he knew what you were talking about and definitely not just trying to make you talk more so he could hear your voice and watch your eyes sparkle with passion.

#theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #draco malfoy x reader #hogwarts oc #hogwarts au #harry potter #slytherin #ravenclaw #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #hp fandom #hp fanfic

2K notes · View notes

prncessjaeger · 22 days

Text

husband 🎀

prncessnote: i made another one…personal favorite ✊🏽

“hey babes, so today me and my friend are gonna go out of town for the week, and we got-…” your boyfriend looked around for this said, “friend” as you continued talking, nudging you to get your attention, “candied bacon…looks weird but-.”

“who’s the- where’s the friend?” he cut you off, making a pout form on your mouth, “huh?”

“nah don’t, ‘huh?’ me, who’s your friend?” you could see his temper rise the minute you giggled, trying your hardest not to laugh, “what? yeah nah, nah let’s restart the fucking video, talking about “my friend,” fuck outta here.” he reached for the phone and pressed the big red button and watched you set up for the intro again, fixing yourself up,

“anyways, hi guys, so me and my friend are going out tonight-” you heard your boyfriend sigh and let out an “you motherfucker” while blowing his arms up in irritation, “hey what’s wrong? you don’t wanna go out no more?” you feigned to seem more concerned, trying not to blow your cover, “nah don’t i wanna go out no more, the fuck? stop saying that shit”, he mocked you per usual and looked at you more sternly, irritation written all over his face, “what’s the issueeeeee-?”

“the issue, is that you keep on saying “friend”, like who the fuck is your friend baby?” a grin appears on your face when you say, “well, you’re my friend, aren’t you?” it took him some deep breaths to calm himself down, “but i’m not your friend-” he stopped himself, knowing sometimes you could get a lil ditzy in certain situations and instead he mumbled out, “just restart the video baby,”

so, you went ahead to click the button again to restart for the third time, yet this time you watched him hold your hand in a “couple-y” way, showing off the beautiful promis ring he gifted you, hoping you wouldn’t try that “friend” bullshit again…

…but in your true fashion, you continued with the act and was met with the response, “aht! again.” you sighed and rolled your eyes yet this time you didn’t stop the recording, “bro, why do you keep stoppingggg?!”

“causeeee, i’m not one of your fuck ass friends! like damn, stop saying that shit forreal,” watching him blow up in your face almost made you cackle aloud, seeing you finally got his ass all riled up, but your boyfriend continued on with his ranting rampage, “…and not your bro either. i’m your boyfriend practically your husband, so get it right or we gon keep doing it over and over again until it’s right,” you watched him inch closer to your face and you nodded slowly, “so baby, can you please do it again? and do it right?”

“y-yeah, mhm,” you watched his lips form into a smirk, watching you restart the video hopefully for the last time, and this time, your boyfriend began kissing all over your hands, and when you looked at him in confusion he ushered his hand in a, “as you were” type of motion, “hi my loves, today me and my boyfriend are gonna go out and try gonna try candied bacon with my boyfriend-”

“nope, do it,” he chuckled, hearing your groans and shielding away from your small slaps, “what now?”

“you didn’t say, husband-” you rolled your eyes hard, “oh my goodness…”

648 notes · View notes

wereoz · 2 years

Text

can ppl stop blaming women for their complicated relationships with food when it’s literally men’s faults okay thank uuuuuuuu

#the amount of fucking male writers who genuinely make their male characters say they hate the skinny women cuz they’re ditzy #in his monologue to the quirky female main character on why he loves her and not them #like??? it’s your fault chad/mark/dylan #or SETH #misogny #sexism #rant #this isn’t mind blowing stuff i just wanted to rant

0 notes

burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 8 months

Text

TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films.

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down.

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since.

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job.

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before.

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face.

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air.

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow.

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left.

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again.

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films.

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!”

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously.

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him.

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly.

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence.

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant.

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open.

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies.

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies.

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it.

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again.

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them.

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant.

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door.

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What -- the hell are you doing here?”

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time.

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity.

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work.

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.”

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more.

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you.

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you.

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him.

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive.

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply.

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off.

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch.

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants.

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas.

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy.

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him.

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on.

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing.

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day.

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh.

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck.

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started—

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.”

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register.

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time.

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass.

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer.

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him.

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth.

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled.

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you.

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching.

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch.

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin.

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release.

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him.

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.”

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you.

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust.

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch.

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips.

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin.

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings.

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail.

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl.

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole.

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better.

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing.

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.”

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly.

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure.

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you.

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you.

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit.

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet.

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter.

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too.

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go.

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed.

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again.

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable.

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole.

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately.

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously.

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you.

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex.

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…”

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right.

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly.

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice.

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length.

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis x reader

2K notes · View notes

tvgals · 10 months

Text

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ VALLEY GIRL !

— a new spider-person joins the group, pink, a little ditzy, and from the west coast 80’s .

miles and the rest of the group watched as you trailed behind miguel, apparently talking his ear off by the face he was making. they’d never seen you before, or heard what you sounded like but they were curious. before they knew it, you and miguel were right in front of them, where they could get a good look at you. your nails were done in french tips, you weren’t in a spider suit but rather a white cami with a blue tennis skirt on. “so i’m like, “totally!” because who would pass up on a deal like that? y’know?” the way you talked had a certain gist to it, something none of the current spider people in front of you had heard before. miguel puts his hand up in front of your face to shut you up, silently telling you to stop talking. you close your mouth with a smile on your face, waving to the group.

“this is y/n. y/n, say hi.” miguel says. you perk up and wave. “she’s been california’s spiderman for about…what was it?” miguel asks rhetorically, you taking that as in invite to chime in. “nine months! of course it’s like gag me with a spoon when i have to do all this work, but it’s, like, so worth it!” you say, practically talking with your hands and not your mouth. “yeah, yeah.” miguel says, waving you off. miguel walks off with a “be nice!” and that was the end of it. hobie, miles, gwen, and pavitr all turn to you expectantly.

“okay, so hi! i’m y/n, and you, like, heard him i’m from california! it’s super super nice over there, i wish i could take you guys sometime!” you start your rant, seeing hobie let out a little laugh. you turn to him with a sweet smile on your face. “what’s so funny?” hobie looks at you with a smirk. “‘s jus’ the way ya’ speak.” miles put his hands up in defense, seeing you quirk your head to the side in confusion.

“he doesn’t mean it in a bad way! we’ve just, never met someone like you.” miles explained, gwen and pavitr laughing at his nervousness. “oh! makes so much sense. so what’s you guys’ names?” you ask, waiting on a response. they go through and say all their names proudly, waiting on you to say something else. “so do you guys, like, not talk? like you haven’t said anything! i’m so confused!” you say, eyes brows furrowed and curls bouncing. “no no no, we just, don’t know what to say.” pavitr admits, his hand on the back of his neck. “oh i get it! just a little, like, scared? well not scared but like-“

“you talk a lot.” gwen cuts you off. you purse your lips together and look around, letting out a nervous laugh. you’ve been told you talk a lot before and that some people found you annoying but you couldn’t help it! you let out a little ‘oh’ and walk off, saying your goodbyes. you heard small protests for you to come back and asking gwen why she would say that. you make it to hq bathrooms — asking fellow spider people where to find it, and you sit down on the toilet seat, your head in your hands. you thought people here would be more welcoming. instead — they looked at you like you were a freak of nature. you heard the bathroom door open and you immediately grabbed some tissue and blew your nose, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. you came out the bathroom to see gwen staring at her feet. you looked at her, waiting for her to say something.

“look, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to be so rude. i’ve just never talked with someone like you and i didn’t know how to react. im so sorry.” gwen apologized. you looked at her through bleary eyes and hug her, gwen hesitated before hugging you back. “it’s, like, totally okay. don’t be sorry!” you tell her, feeling her hug you back. the two of your separate and walk out the bathroom, talking about whatever. once you two make it back to the group, everyone cheered. hobie the most. “she’s finally back!” he chuckled. you were sure to feel accepted and appreciated from now on.

TAGLIST ;— @looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @chinaza444 @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @planetspiderzz @chinieh @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @yuckyygutz @janaeby

904 notes · View notes

theshinazugawaslut · 4 months

Text

You know Sanemi loves you when he fucking giggles around you with no shame.

The first time he giggled in front of you, he covered his mouth, and looked so embarrassed, swearing he'd rip your eyeballs out and feed them to a demon if you even thought of telling the other Hashira.

But as soon as you're his, he's giggling like a hysterical, little boy, wheezing and cackling and giggling, throwing himself to the ground in laughter everytime you say something but immediately putting on a poker face the minute someone even walks past the room.

But I feel like he laughs proper sweet and nice when he's with you, whether he thinks you're being a bit ditzy or whether he finds you so very lovely. Other times he's cackling when you trip into the grass or wheezing with laughter when you rant about some mid-ranked slayer who annoyed you.

/ based on my headcanon that Sanemi would be one of those folk that fall to the ground in laughter and clap their hands and hold the bridge of their nose whilst they wheeze BUT that's literally only in front of you. At most in the presence of other people, this man'll just let out a small chuckle. So if you've got him on the floor, you're pretty damn funny.

#sanemi #anime and manga #sanemi shinazugawa #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #kny #husband sanemi

187 notes · View notes

mommywommymunchkins · 3 months

Text

“I’m better”

Pairing: plastic!Karen Shetty x plastic!fem!reader

Warnings: Pining, kissing, jealous!Karen, flirty!reader, mentions of s3x, s3x jokes, crude language

—————————————————————————————————————

In the bustling cafeteria of North Shore High School, Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners occupied their usual spot, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Y/N and Regina George. Karen, tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the table, couldn't hide her impatience.

“It’s been five minutes ”, the curly haired girl sighed as she looked across the bustling cafeteria

“Mama, it’s fine. I’m sure she just got held back in class and can’t text you back”, Gretchen said as she patted Karen’s head

Gretchen, always attuned to Karen's whims, nodded sympathetically.

“Not but she’s also been taking up all of y/n’s attention lately. Ugh!”, Karen complained

Before Karen could delve deeper into her complaint, the cafeteria doors swung open, revealing Y/N and Regina strolling in arm in arm, their laughter filling the air. Karen's eyes widened, and she exchanged an exasperated glance with Gretchen. She sat on the edge of her seat and was ready for whatever excuse y/n was gonna say as to why she wasn’t replying.

Y/N and Regina approached the table, their infectious energy preceding them.

"Hey, losers. What’s the gossip also, we’re hanging at my house afterward”, the blonde girl spoke with authority

Karen, trying to mask her annoyance, put on her ditzy persona.

“Oh, you know just waiting for the two of you like always”

Y/N smirked knowingly, sensing the undercurrents in Karen's tone.

The girl wore straight cut jeans that made her look taller than she was, but even then Regina and Karen stood tall when next to the girl, and an off shoulder-cropped top that could pass off as a baby’s t-shirt due to how much it revealed her stomach and shoulders.

“Sorry, got caught up in Regina's thrilling story of how some girl named Janis had an obsession with her.", y/n sat down

Regina laughed, oblivious to Karen's internal struggle.

As the conversation turned to the mundane details of their day, Karen couldn't resist peppering the discussion with subtle jabs, her jealousy veiled by her bubbly demeanor.

"Oh, Y/N, did you get my text? I sent, like, five emojis in a row. So cute, right?"

Y/N, playing along, chuckled.

“Sorry, Karen, got lost in Regina's rant on how she saw Jason working at Taco Bell. You know how it is."

Karen's attempts to hide her jealousy were betrayed by the narrowing of her eyes, but she quickly covered it with a forced giggle.

Gretchen, sensing the tension, attempted to steer the conversation into safer territory.

“Anyway, class was, like, so boring today. Mr. Duvall went on and on about quadratic equations."

Regina rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Ugh, like, who cares about math? I'd rather discuss something important, like which shade of lipstick looks best on me."

Karen, unable to resist a snide remark, interjected.

“Well, speaking of shades, Y/N, I noticed you were wearing a really bold color today. Trying to make a statement?"

Y/N, catching on to Karen's game, raised an eyebrow.

“Just trying to keep things interesting, Karen. Isn't that what you love about me?"

———————————————————————

The next day, Y/N decided to play a lighthearted prank to get Karen to speak up more. She carefully chose her outfit that took her an hour of indecisive choices.

She decided on a skirt that SHOULD have been a dress code violation to the school but isn’t, with nothing but a bra under her cropped cardigan that if she moved too much, anyone would be scared for the button to pop.

Y/n texted Gretchen to pick her up today because she refused to get her license with the excuse that she wanted to stay as a passenger princess (for karen 🗣️🗣️)

Y/N entered the school confidently, ready to see the reaction it would elicit from both Karen and Regina George.

As Y/N strolled through the hallways, the two couldn't help but notice the lingering gazes from their peers. The whispers and nudges followed them like a shadow, heightening the dramatic tension.

Y/n spotted Karen at her pink locker that she glammed up the first day of school. Karen was re-applying her lipgloss as she looked at her reflection in the mirror hung up in her locker. The sound of y/n’s heeled boots clacked and Y/N's eyes met Karen's, a playful challenge embedded within the gaze. Karen, a mixture of surprise and amusement, couldn't help but turn away from the girl, focusing on just applying her lipgloss to avoid looking at the girl.

However, before y/n reached Karen, Regina appeared strutting to the shorter girl, feigning casual conversation while secretly sizing up the outfit.

"Well, well, Y/N. Trying to make a statement today, are we?"

Y/N, playing along with the charade, grinned mischievously.

"Just thought I'd shake things up a bit, Regina. Keep life interesting."

Regina smirked, sensing an opportunity to stir the pot.

"Interesting, indeed. I wonder what Karen thinks about your fashion statement."

Meanwhile, Karen observed the exchange that happened just a meter away from her, an amused glint in her eyes. She approached the scene, pretending nonchalance.

"What's going on here? Am I missing the latest fashion trends?"

Y/N shot Karen a sly look, reveling in the game they were playing.

"Oh please, you look like you want to fuck me.", y/n joked and Regina laughed with

Karen chuckled, her gaze lingering on Y/N with a mix of admiration and desire.

“Well, you certainly know how to keep things exciting. Let me try your top on sometime."

“Maybe, take me out for a drive later and we’ll see”

As Regina and Gretchen sensed the tension they both left, leaving the two girls to figure themselves out.

As school came to an end, Karen pulled up her Pink Porche at the front of the school where Y/N waited while ok her phone.

The girl rolled her windows down and told her to get in.

As Y/N entered, she buckled herself in as Karen started driving.

The pair talked about school that day and they shared laughs and giggles.

At one point, Y/N wanted to pull the curly haired girls strings again. The girl pulled out her purse and took out her lipgloss. She looked into the mirror and carefully re-applied it as she said,

“Oh my God Karen. Earlier at lunch I got held back right and so I missed out on lunch but when I went to find you guys, Regina had already got me my food. Isn’t she just the sweetest”, Y/N said practically drooling over Regina’s actions.

The car came to a halt and Y/N turned to Karen with a sad expression on her face.

Her usually bright persona disappeared and y/n realised.

“What do you like about her anyway. She hasn’t even fucked you like I have and you treat me like we’re just friends”, Karen said with tears welling in her eyes.

Y/n’s expression softened and turned her body to the girl.

“Oh, Kary, I don’t like Regina like I like you-“

“Then be mine”, The girl huffed out

The latter softly grabbed Karen’s cheek as they both leaned close. Karen’s hand found their way to Y/n’s waist, carefully tracing circles on her exposed skin.

Y/n could feel the girls breath on her face as she closed the gap between them two. Their lips moved in sync and Karen leaned forward, making Y/N go back into her own seat, trapping the girl with one hand on the wheel and the other on the girl.

Y/N pulled back quickly as she quickly realised and said,

“Alright that’s enough, I just re-applied my gloss”, she huffed out pouting as a joke.

Karen giggled at the girl as the latter applied gloss on again.

“Woman, are you serious. I just-“, Karen said wide eyed

Y/N leaned in once again and harshly grabbed the girls face, leaving Karen in shock of the girls sudden bold action. Y/n pulled away and fixed up her top as if she didn’t just silence the girl.

“That was one of my life goals, to be kissed by you”

Karen giggled as she reignited the engine and Y/n turned her head to the window pretending she didn’t hear the other.

—————————————————————————————————————

AU: Good lawd

Thank you @candytounge0218 for the idea 🩶🩶

#mean girls musical #mean girls #fem reader #reader insert #karen shetty #avantika #regina george

122 notes · View notes