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#it is a really tight business thing they have going on... i get it! it's how they've stayed on top all these years....!
ariesangelxo · 1 day
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okay so i was thinking something like rafe always gives like reader butt pats and she’s gotten used to it so much that she can’t go a day without it. so one day rafe doesn’t do it and she automatically thinks he’s mad at her but rafes not he just does the but pats without thinking. so then their whole day goes along with them fighting abt small things till rafe asks her what’s wrong and they make up🤗
🌶️anon!
rafe cameron x fem reader
minors & ageless blogs dni
cw: a bit of angst, a lil bit of comfort in the end. some suggestive content, spanking, reader is an overthinker, reader also isn’t good about talking abt her feelings
a/n: i’m sorry this took so long! i hope i did this justice <33
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being by rafe’s side was ninety percent of your daily routine. he’d asked you to move into tannyhill not long after ward passed, and being his loving girlfriend that doted on his every step, you did.
you couldn’t have been happier to spend nearly all of your time with him. rafe treated you like a princess. despite his rough reputation around outerbanks, you knew him to be the most loving man you’d ever met.
he could tell when you were upset, the small tells of you avoiding eye contact and biting down on your bottom lip made it obvious to him when you needed him most. he was usually able to get you back to your sweet and happy self with just focusing his attention on you. his touch, his voice, his presence, it comforted you in ways nothing else could.
rafe always gave you small pats on your ass throughout the day. it was something you’d grown accustomed to and you adored it. it was one of those little things he did that unknowingly made your heart swell. his casual dominance allowed you to turn your brain off, every thought in your pretty head revolved around him.
today, however, had been a bit different. it started with him not giving you the normal pat when you got out of bed this morning. you didn’t think too much of it, figuring he was probably concerned with work-related emails on his phone.
then it was the lack of attention while you made him breakfast. you enjoyed your small housewife-like duties. rafe walked into the kitchen, leaning his back against the granite countertop. but when he didn’t come up behind you and place a sweet kiss against your neck while aggressively claiming your ass as his, a slight pout formed on your lips. rafe was too engrossed in his phone to notice it though.
when you put a plate of food in front of him, he barely looked up to give you a half smile. you quickly went back to busying yourself in the kitchen, trying to keep your mind away from the anxious thoughts beginning to swirl around.
much to your dismay, washing the dishes wasn’t helping. did you do something wrong? could you have said something last night that, unintentionally of course, upset him? were you being too clingy? was it really just work?
you let out a deep sigh as you finished drying off a frying pan. “you okay?” rafe called out to you.
you turned to look at him, placing a small smile on your face that was definitely not genuine. “yeah, ‘m fine.”
he didn’t look satisfied with your answer, but he didn’t push any further. you didn’t want to share any of your current thoughts. if it was really only him being stressed with the business, you would feel bad for assuming otherwise. you didn’t want to overthink small things, but it was one of your unhealthy habits.
shortly after eating and cleaning up, you were upstairs in your shared room getting ready to go to the country club with rafe. he’d made plans a few days ago to go golfing with topper and kelce, naturally, you were going. rafe brought you with him almost everywhere.
you put on a short white tennis skirt, one that you knew drove him wild, along with a tight pink tank top. as you finished applying your layer of lip gloss, you looked yourself over in the mirror. there was no way rafe could resist giving you a firm slap on the ass when it looked so good in the tiny skirt.
“c’mon, kid. don’t have all day here.” he called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“‘m coming,” you responded, grabbing your small pink purse and heading down.
you walked out of the bedroom with a big smile on your face, nearly skipping down the hall. once you got to the top of the stairs, rafe looked up, giving you a quick smirk.
he held the door open for you on the way out of the house, and of course as you got into his truck, but still hadn’t given you a single pat today. you were genuinely beginning to grow concerned at this point. you could brush off not getting them when you got out of bed or while making breakfast, but when he didn’t give you one while you walked out of the front door, swaying your hips, or stepping up into his truck, purposely bending over so your mini skirt rode up? that was extremely unusual.
you buckled yourself in, leaning your knees closer to the door than him and stared out the window.
“you have an attitude?” he questioned you, his tone having a bit of edge to it.
“nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’, “‘m fine.”
you glanced over just in time to see rafe rolling his eyes. he didn’t verbally say anything, but his actions spoke loud enough for you.
you crossed your arms, childishly leaning further into the door to put what distance you could between the two of you. rafe let out a sigh, but still didn’t say anything.
the short drive to the country club was filled with tension. it was uncomfortably silent, neither of you speaking a word to each other.
rafe stepped out of the truck when you arrived, slamming his door shut a bit harder than usual. he still came to your side though, opening up the door for you to step out. he once again didn’t offer any touch to you. your heart sank, you truly didn’t know what was going on.
he grabbed his clubs from the back, walking ahead of you to go meet topper and kelce on the course. you followed behind, slow and stubbornly, your arms crossed and your brow furrowed with a pout on your lips.
you sat in the passenger seat, legs and arms crossed as your manicured nails tapped against your bicep in an irritated manner. you looked cranky, and you knew it based on the looks topper and kelce gave rafe when you initially followed behind him. you usually wore a bright smile and clung to rafe’s side, excitedly greeting the boys.
“what’s goin’ on with her?” you heard topper ask rafe. he attempted to keep his volume low so you wouldn’t hear, but with his naturally loud voice, he failed miserably.
your eyebrow quirked up. you were curious to hear rafe’s response.
“no fuckin’ clue.” rafe grumbled out, trying to focus on his swing. you rolled your eyes, it was his fault you were in a bad mood. he’s the one that’s been neglecting you since you woke up.
topper glanced over at you, letting out a slight laugh at your pouting. rafe’s eyes followed, he pinched his nose in annoyance.
he walked up to the cart where you were sitting, crossing his arms as he looked down at you.
“okay, kid. what’s goin’ on? why are you pouting?”
you let a small scoff out, furrowing your brows, “don’t act so interested now just because your friends noticed.”
rafe was taken aback at your tone. you never spoke to him with an attitude like that. his eyes narrowed, looking at you in a way that made you feel minuscule.
“you can lose that little attitude you’ve got goin’ on, now.” his voice was stern, dripping with annoyance. you wanted to disappear, you were so frustrated that he didn’t understand he was the reason for your attitude.
you looked away from him, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes as you said nothing and stared forward, not particularly focusing on anything.
rafe muttered a “whatever.” before walking back to where topper and kelce were.
you did feel bad for having an attitude, but the way you felt like you were being rejected by him made you want to shut down. it made you want to disappear from the face of the earth for a while. you felt embarrassed, upset, and now overwhelmed with your brain going into overthinking.
you didn’t say a word to any of the men as they played through the course. not even when rafe would get into the drivers seat and bring you two to the next hole.
you instead spent that time biting down harshly on the inside of your lip, fighting to keep the tears of frustration from falling past your eyes. you tried to focus on literally anything else, but the constant noise of thoughts swirling through your brain made it impossible.
they’d wrapped up the last hole. you heard rafe saying something about possibly meeting them around the country club after for lunch.
you refused to look up at him, even when he started heading your way. you missed the way he wore a half smirk as he looked at your pouting figure. he knew you were upset about something, but you weren’t great about vocalizing your feelings.
“d’you want to go back to the restaurant for lunch?”
“don’t care,” you muttered out, looking down at your nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.
“well, your options are either that or we can go home. your choice, kid.” he wasn’t feeding into your baiting tone, and that just irritated you further.
“said i don’t care, rafe.”
“s’okay. we can go home and you can take a nap, because you clearly need one.” he rounded the golf cart, hopping into the driver’s seat as he brought you back to the entrance.
you got out before he could, beginning to storm your way to his truck.
“hey! slow the fuck down. you know you don’t walk into a busy ass parking lot without me.” he called out to you.
you halted, but didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. you mumbled an “okay, asshole.” under your breath, not thinking he’d hear.
boy, were you wrong. it took a matter of seconds for rafe to be in front of you, one of his large hands squishing your cheeks as he moved jaw up to look at him, “wanna say that again, princess?” he said challengingly.
you didn’t respond. wrong answer. his nostrils flared as he squinted at you. he gripped your wrist, harshly dragging you to where the truck was parked. he brought you around to the passenger door where it blocked onlookers from the country club from seeing you.
“i don’t know what the fuck’s goin’ on with you today. but i will not put up with this shit in front of others. you know i- i have a reputation to uphold here, right? you think it looks good on me for others to see my girl being a bitch towards me, huh?”
your lip wobbled as tears began to fill your eyes. you wanted to look away, to look anywhere besides his mean stare, but his rough hand on your face wouldn’t allow it.
“no!” you cried out, “just- just wanted your affection. dunno why you’re mad at me.” you whimpered out, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.
“kid. why do you think i’m mad at you?” he quirked an eyebrow inquisitively.
“b-because you haven’t given me a single pat today! ‘nd you give me them everyday!”
he closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale to calm himself.
“you think i’m mad at you because i haven’t smacked your ass today?”
when he said it like that, it sounded stupid. but it felt like so much more than that to you.
he rolled his eyes, using his hands to wipe away the tears on your face. he made sure you were looking at him, “sweetheart, ‘m not mad at you. i’ve been busy with some clients that aren’t following through on their payments today.”
you looked at him hopefully, hiccuping as you brought your hands up on his.
“do you pinky promise you’re not mad at me?” you asked him softly, holding out one of your pinkies.
“pinky promise. but you’re not gonna be able to sit tomorrow with the spanking you’re getting when we get home.” he reached out his pinky, stifling back a smirk as he intertwined them.
“m’kay!” you responded happily, the tears stopping and a smile appearing on your face.
he opened up the passenger door, holding his hand out to help you get in before he gave your bottom a firm pat and buckled you in.
he chuckled to himself as he rounded the truck, “all that attitude because she didn’t get her ass smacked, huh?”
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greensagephase · 2 days
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For Better or Worse
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Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: Your siblings are marrying in two weeks and as the best man and maid of honor, Miguel and you are dragged to the dance lessons for moral support despite disliking each other. There, you're forced to pretend to be a couple. Word Count: 3k Warnings: slightly suggestive comments from the dance instructor, so MDI; reader speaks and understands Spanish; unnamed sister for reader; reader and Miguel are grumpy with each other, so don't expect any smooching, but there's tension, hehe A/N: this was supposed to be a simple thought based on a movie scene (vid below the cut) that turned into something longer (a blessing and a curse). Thank you for reading! Masterlist
Source: The Wedding Date (2005)
Your little sister, or not so little since she’s all grown up, found love and is now getting married to Gabriel O’Hara. You’re elated about them marrying, truly. Ever since your sister met Gabriel, you could tell they were made for each other. They’re both so sweet and kind, sometimes they remind you of Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley from Pride and Prejudice, too good for their own good.
They’re truly made for each other and you have to admit, Gabriel squeezed his way into your heart fairly quickly with how great he treats your sister, so it didn’t take long before you started to see him as part of the family.
But of course, a rose comes with its thorns. Or, in your case, your sister’s now fiancé, comes with a brother.
Miguel O’Hara.
You cannot stand the man.
And he cannot stand you.
That’s the one thing you have in common, the mutual dislike.
You finally met him and Gabriel’s parents when the relationship between your siblings became serious. You expected to like Gabriel’s family, and you did, everyone except Miguel. The two of you simply didn’t click. It was dislike at first sight.
Of course, you try to be polite to each other for the sake of your siblings, but when they’re not in sight, keeping an eye on either of you, your dislike is shown through scowls and narrowed eyes.
You try to stay clear from each other as much as possible, something that has become harder to do as your siblings’ relationship has turned more and more serious.
And now, the proximity will be unavoidable. Gabriel popped the question a year ago and that’s how you find yourself parked outside a dance studio, two weeks before the big day.
With you being your sister’s maid of honor and Miguel the groom’s best man, that means you’ve both been in each other’s presence more than usual to support the couple as they’ve gone through the wedding planning.
And that includes the freaking dance lessons.
As soon as everyone arrives, all four of you enter the building. Of course, Miguel and you avoid each other as you both quickly scan the place before your gazes find your siblings’ sheepish smiles towards the two of you. The sight immediately makes Miguel and you tense.
Those sheepish smiles are no good, you both know that too well. Those are the smiles of younger siblings about to ask something from you. Something neither of you are probably going to like.
“So… we asked you to come along today for moral support,” you sister starts, fidgeting with her hands.
“Because we really do need it but there’s another reason…” Gabriel adds, trailing off.
“What is it, Gabriel?” Miguel asks, his tone low with a hint of impatience.
“So… the instructor is a well known one in the community. They’re really good at what they do! It’s why we wanted to get lessons from her, but she had a tight schedule and it was looking like we almost didn’t get a spot. She said she’d only do it if we brought along another couple, unmarried if possible, but one that might potentially marry in the future. You know, as a way to get more business in the future…” Gabriel replies, offering a nervous smile.
“So, Gabri and I figured that…” your sister trails off.
Both Gabriel and your sister stare at you and Miguel, with hope in their eyes as their little plan sinks in.
“No way,” you say immediately, declining anything related to Miguel.
“Aw, please. It’s just a dance lesson. Just for today! Two hours at the most,” your sister tries.
“No.”
“You guys just need to act nice with each other, that’s all. Easy,” Gabriel says, shrugging as if he’s never ran into someone he didn’t like, which might actually be true. “I mean - we’re family now. Not officially, yet,” Gabriel adds giving his future wife a smile that shows pure love. “Very soon, just two more weeks and finally.”
Miguel and you watch, your siblings forgetting for about five seconds about death glares they’re receiving as of right now.
Yes, they’re really too good for their own good. Or, maybe they’re just using their younger sibling privilege and the fact that they’re in love to get their older siblings to give in.
At last, Gabriel turns again as if he just now realizes - or feels - the glares.
“We’re basically family now. You’re going to see each other more often, unless you plan on not attending any family gatherings from here on now, or making some rotating schedule on who gets to go when. It’s just a dance practice, please,” Gabriel pleads, trying to reason with you.
“Gabriel, no,” Miguel says annoyed, exasperated that he and your sister would even think about this considering the fact that neither he nor you like each other.
“Please, if you don’t, she might cancel the session, or charge us double, or something.”
“She can’t do that,” you say. “Can she?”
“Please,” Gabriel and your sister say in unison, something they do a lot, which kind of annoys you sometimes, to be honest.
“It’s not like we’re asking you to kiss. Just - act like a couple,” you sister says. “Please, just for today.”
Miguel and you are both about to tell your siblings why this is inadequate, but you only manage to open your mouths before a woman comes in with a too cheerful smile on her face, stopping you from proceeding. Her presence in the room suddenly shuts all debating, leaving no room for Miguel and you to reiterate that neither of you wish to do this.
“Wonderful! Two couples. My name is Lyla,” she says turning to Miguel and you. “I’m your dance instructor. Let’s not waste any time, yes? The wedding is in two weeks! We need to start working immediately. Everybody, on the floor, please. Let’s go, you two as well, don’t be shy now.” Lyla walks over, immediately pushing Miguel and you forward. “You can be shy in each other’s arms, let’s go.”
You briefly wonder how this woman has so much strength to push the two of you into the floor but that’s quickly forgotten as she continues to speak.
“There. Ah - I see our engaged couple is ready to go,” she comments, making Miguel and you turn to find your siblings already in position, ready to dance. “Let me get these two going, they’re sooooo shy,” Lyla comments with a soft smirk, motioning to Miguel and you.
You both scowl when you hear your siblings laugh, something that cuts their laughter short and turn away.
“Sir, you need to place your hand right here. On your woman’s waist, come on, I’m sure you’ve held her before,” Lyla instructs, grabbing his wrist and placing it on your waist, making it so that Miguel’s hand grips you. Unused to his touch, you squirm when you feel Miguel’s warm hand on you. You try backing away but Lyla only pushes you forward, into Miguel’s touch.
“My, you two are really shy,” she says as she takes your hand and places it on Miguel’s shoulder, allowing you to feel his broad muscles beneath his top. “You need to learn to embrace each other. It’s intimacy.” She pushes you both together now, forcing Miguel to take more steps towards you. Again, you question how much strength Lyla has to move you like straw dolls, especially a man like Miguel. Maybe you’re both so dumbfounded by this situation, your bodies are just doing as she says, pushing you into this abnormal situation. The only sense of normalcy comes from the glares Miguel and you are shooting at each other. “Dancing is like - making love, I’m sure you two know what I’m talking about,” Lyla says before her eyebrows shoot up, thinking of something. “Unless you’re waiting for marriage then… that’s a tough one, but I think you might have an idea of what I mean.” At that, Lyla grins at the two of you.
Miguel and you silently groan at the thought of you two making love, meanwhile Gabriel and your sister are laughing in the back. You turn and give them a glare, same from Miguel, shutting them up.
“I can see you’re both tense. There’s so much - so much tension between you,” Lyla says, hand on her chin as if contemplating something deeply. “It’s that kind of tension only found in the bedroom, you know? Hm… Alright, you’’l be the leader. That means you lead the dance, sir,” she says patting Miguel’s arm.
You turn at that because why does he get to lead you?
“Why does he lead?” you ask, eyebrow raised.
“Uhh - okay, I see it now,” Lyla says with a smile, as if everything makes sense now. “That’s why there’s so much tension. You’re both - very dominant. I suppose you’re both - you switch, right? You’re switches?”
“What?” Miguel says with knitted eyebrows and a slightly opened mouth due to the shock because there’s no way this lady just asked that, right?
“Excuse me?” you manage to say, equally appalled.
“You take turns,” Lyla explains. “On who is dominant In the bedroom. The question is who will be the dominant one on the dance floor.”
You turn to look at Miguel, brows knitted. Not only are you being forced to pretend to be his partner but now you’re apparently “switches” and fighting for who dominates who. It’s stupid, you know that, but this has turned into a competition of sorts, and there’s no way you’re letting Miguel O’Hara lead you, even if it’s pretend.
“I assure you, it’ll be me. Just like how it is in the bedroom,” you state which earns you a squeeze from Miguel’s hand on your waist.
“We both know that’s not the case, amor [love],” Miguel replies through gritted teeth.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lyla pipes in between you, amused. “I love your energy, though. Alright, time to dance!”
You exhale heavily. Just why did your sister have to drag you into this? Oh right, you’re her maid of honor and the man with his hand on your waist right now is the best man.
You’re stuck in this situation now, whether you like it or not. So, Miguel and you stand like two stiff boards against each other, meanwhile your younger siblings are in another dimension of rainbows and love. They already forgot about their older siblings since they got away with their little plan.
You sigh again and turn to face Miguel, standing in front of each other, like two statues. As the minutes have ticked by with Lyla’s talk about intimacy and dominance, your fingers are now interlaced, though neither of you have noticed yet.
“Just dance, guys. I want to see what I’m working with here,” Lyla says, hands on her hips as she watches the scene in front of her, music playing in the background now.
Stiffly, Miguel and you begin to move, taking steps side by side for a good minute or so before you look up at him. Staring at hm, you notice he seems… tense. Despite yourself, you can’t help but poke fun at him.
“¿Qué pasa, Miguel? ¿Tienes dos pies izquierdos? [What's up, Miguel? You have two left feet?]” You ask mockingly, which earns yourself a half scowl because Lyla is watching you.
Miguel grips your fingers and waist as you continue to dance. You still have a soft smirk on your face, satisfied with Miguel’s annoyance when suddenly, you’re tripping over his foot. Your breath hitches as you feel yourself falling but before that happens, you feel Miguel’s wrapped arm around your waist tighten, catching you. To further annoy you, he expertly uses his other hand and maneuvers you so that your back is leaning on his arm now, with you looking up at him as he leans down. For about three or four seconds, his dark eyes bore into yours before he spins you back to face him correctly.
Annoyed, you return the gesture and slam your foot on his, causing him to grimace in pain. Holding your hand, he pushes you back with a scowl before pulling you back harshly.
“Para tu información, princesa, sé bailar [for your information, little princess, I know how to dance],” he murmurs, staring down at you.
“Hm, I wonder where from? You never dance at parties.”
“And you do? All you do is sit at the table like you’re too good to accept any man’s offer for a dance,” Miguel replies as you move across the dance floor.
Somewhere, your siblings are already receiving help from Lyla, who’s instructing them on proper hand placement.
“And you? You stand around with the other men, talking about God knows what.”
“Women, of course,” Miguel sarcastically replies as he spins you around before bringing you back to him. “We talk about the women dancing and the ones who don’t, either because they’re too shy to dance, or just snobs, como tu… comprenderas [like you... understand, comprehend].”
You scoff. “Is that them, or your personal opinion of me?” you ask, pulling back from him, hands still joined.
Miguel snickers and pulls you back, your chest slamming right into his. You scowl in response. “Quiero decirte algo [I want to tell you something].” He spins you around again. “We are going to make this work.”
“Make what work?”
“This,” Miguel says as he pulls you back in. He stares at you while you keep dancing. “I’m not going to miss out on my brother’s life. Gabriel and I are close, always have been. I have no intentions of stepping out and missing out on his life, him building a life with your sister.��� He turns you around, pressing your back to his chest, his arms crossed over your body, as if keeping you locked in them to ensure you’ll listen clearly. “I’m going to be there, at every family gathering. If they have children, you better bet I’m going to be there at every birthday party, or soccer game. So, I want you to know that right now. We’re either going to make this work, or you’ll be missing out, because I’m not stepping out.”
You scoff again, and to his great annoyance and astonishment, free yourself from his arms to face him once more. You place a hand on his chest, leading him back.
“I have no intentions of missing out, O’Hara. Don’t even think about it. Being part of my sister’s life heavily outweighs the annoyance of seeing your unpleasant face.”
Miguel scoffs and wraps his large hand around your wrist before he pulls you forward, your faces mere inches from each other.
“Unpleasant face? You must be blind, princesita [little princess]. Maybe I ought to take you somewhere to get those pretty eyes checked if that’s how you see my face,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.
You snort and pull back. “You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, O’Hara, but I digress. I’m going to be part of my sister’s life, too. So, get used to it.”
Miguel smirks, pulling you right back against his chest. “For better or worse, we'll tolerate each other. For them,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.
“For them,” you agree, meeting his gaze.
For the first time, you really look into his eyes. You’ve never been quite this close to the man, not enough to appreciate their color - a deep brown with a slight maroon undertone. You see the gentle wrinkles under his eyes and forehead, probably from his job as the CEO from some company you've never bothered to learn the name of. A quick peek at his slightly parted mouth allows you to really notice the plump lips. You’ve never noticed it before, but one side of his upper lip is higher than the other, adding to the full lips. You even manage to notice a crooked tooth at the front of his teeth, something that makes you pause internally for some reason.
In a society worried all about looks, Miguel hasn't had that fixed. You glance back into Miguel's eyes but his are somewhere else, somewhere around your mouth. You don’t have enough time to question why his eyes are there though.
His eyes meet yours again, his throat showing a visible gulp as the image of your lips flashes in his head. Staring at your eyes, he once again takes notice of your eye color and the way your eyelashes frame your eyes, something he’s noticed before.
“That!”
Miguel and you instantly pull away, releasing each other. Lyla quickly approaches you, smiling.
“That's the look I was hoping for,” she says. “A look of pure passion, tension, sexiness… love” she says, giddily. “That’s the way to dance! Oh, I have no doubt you two will know exactly how to dance when your wedding date comes. I have seen enough. Take five while I revisit my initial plan, our engaged couple needs a little more help than you two,” Lyla says giving you both a wink. “There’s a lot of love there but they can’t dance to save their lives, unlike you two. If you want to take a seat and just talk, you lovebirds.” Lyla nods and heads off to your siblings, immediately laying out what needs work.
Miguel and you stand side by side, watching in silence for a few seconds before Miguel breaks the silence.
“I need to make - a work call. I’ll be outside while they get finished,” he says, pulling out his cell phone.
“Sure, you go and do that,” you reply, staring at the other three people, not sparing Miguel a glance.
He faces you, watching you for a few seconds as if expecting you to say anything else, or maybe waiting for you to face him, but you never do.
“Great,” he mutters before he walks away. A few seconds later you hear the studio’s door close.
You sigh heavily. You didn’t even know you were holding your breath. He’s so annoying, so - You do a little head shake, clearing your mind. You’ve both agreed to tolerate each other for the sake of your siblings - to be part of their lives.
“For better or worse,” you murmur to yourself.
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A/N: Leaving it open-ended because this was only supposed to be a blurb and then I kept going! Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this!! <33
Alondra❤️
315 notes · View notes
testrella · 3 hours
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CRAZY RICH ASIANS..! G. SATORU X READER
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𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER THREE : just..friends!
NEXT… CHAPTER FOUR : tutoring.
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gojo was reclined on his couch, legs sprawled out everywhere. the comfort of his own home at 17 was a luxury not anybody could afford. yet, it was gifted to him by his grandma on his 16th birthday. a 32 acre estate mansion designed by switzerland’s best architect. a blend of traditional japanese and a mix of modern luxury. despite the mansion being large enough to home a village, it was only filled with servants, gojo and silence.
which is why his father thought it was a great idea to have him take on a responsibility, a quite immense responsibility. 
“who the hell are you?”
gojo glances up from his phone and looks for what voice peeped from the entrance of the lounge room. the large dark oak doors were fully opened yet from his peripheral vision, there was no one there. that was until he looked down at a young boy.
his jet black hair, fair skin and green eyes stood out from any other kid has ever laid his eyes on. a shiver runs down gojo’s spine and goosebumps slowly form on his forearms as he continues to stare at the young boy.
“satoru,” his father’s voice echoed from the hallway, slowly becoming more apparent as he got closer. “this is megumi fushiguro, he will be staying with you from now on.”
the young white haired male’s jaw drops to the very floor as he repeated the last name out loud, “..fushiguro?” he glances at the boy then back at his father before raising an eyebrow, “and why is that?” there was no curiosity in his tone, just genuine concern. 
his father opens his mouth to respond before shutting it as megumi turns around to face him, seeming to have the exact same question. why is he staying with 17 year old gojo satoru?
“his father has..business to take care of. it required him to leave for a certain period of time so i’ve agreed to take him in.”
the explanation was typical; vague and left no room for any further questions. gojo knew better than to further poke the sleeping bear and just nod in agreement. but even though he answered gojo’s question, his eyes told a different answer. there was no doubt the boy’s father got into some trouble and was taken out for good.
gojo shrugged the lingering thoughts away before making his way to megumi. he knelt down to megumi’s height, to come off as less intimidating, and patted his head. “megumi, right? i’m satoru, looks like we’re gonna be roommates for a while.”
“i am not sharing a room with you.” megumi spat out while clutching onto a small dog plushie. even if he tried to come off as fearless, gojo couldn’t help but notice the way he was violently shaking. 
he chuckles at megumi before pulling him into a tight and unwarranted hug. “sure man, whatever you say goes.”
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the busy streets of tokyo were alive every night, capturing the life of the city and its residents. honking horns, distant chatter, and the same rhythmic footsteps of busy people wanting to get from point A to point B. gojo suggested the two shopping the day after the party, which clearly irritated megumi.
“do we really have to go shopping during rush hour?” megumi grumbled and shoving his hands into his pockets. “i have better things to do.” 
satoru only chuckled at the angsty teen’s behavior. he watched megumi grow from a know it all toddler to a slumped moody teenager. “oh come on megumi! i’ve been meaning to buy you something nice. besides, it’s not like you actually have friends to hang out with.”  
megumi shoots him a glare, “i do have friends, and i could have plans that only involved myself.”
“like what? brooding in your room all day?” gojo teased, ruffling megumi’s hair before he slapped his hand away.
as they entered a high end luxury store, gojo’s attention was immediately caught by a limited edition pair of sneakers. he nudged megumi towards the display before picking it up and carefully inspecting it. “what do you think megumi? these would look great on you!” 
megumi barely glances at the shoe before mumbling a response, “they’re fine i guess. can we get them and go home now?” irritation was written all over the poor boy’s face. 
gojo was able to immediately pick up the teen’s attitude towards him. he rolled his eyes at the moody behavior, “you’re in a mood today. something bothering you?” 
“i don’t know… maybe it's the fact you're texting my teacher and asking her out for dinner again!” he whispered-yelled in the middle of the store.
gojo clicks his tongue. “ah, so that’s what this is about huh?” he said with a stupid smile plastered on his face, “well i happen to think miss. l/n is a lovely person to be around. she’s humble, intelligent and she seems to talk to me like a normal person. she’d be a wonderful friend!”
megumi scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest, “you’re not fooling anyone, you know there’s more to it!”
gojo leaned slightly towards megumi with a slight mischievous look in his eyes, “it’s refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t obsessed with the whole gojo clan nonsense. she’s not stiff and never talks about business.” he leans further into megumi’s personal space, “but you seem to be real caught up on this. are you jealous..?!”
megumi’s face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “i am not jealous! i just don’t think it’s appropriate for you to make plans with my teacher. it’s  weird..” he mumbled the last sentence. 
gojo raises his hand to scratch his chin and pretends he’s in deep thought. “hm, well if it makes you that uncomfortable then i suppose i have no choice but to cut contact.”
“r-really?! you’ve decided that quick?” 
“of course,” gojo said, ruffling his hair once again. “you’re more important to me than making a new friend.”
a small pang of guilt hit megumi’s chest, and his expression softened. “i mean, you don’t have to stop being her friend. just..stop trying to invite her to private dinners.”
“deal!” gojo says with a wide grin, “now, let’s go find some shoes you’ll actually like.” despite megumi’s outburst, he knew he cared for him in his own way. no matter how many times gojo has been a victim of megumi’s prickly demeanor, he would still let him have his way.
the duo exits out the store, with gojo swinging multiple bags over his back, into the bustling streets. the both continued to have a quiet conversation about tonight’s dinner options. just as they turned the corner, a small figure collided with him, again. 
“ah, miss. l/n!” gojo exclaimed, caught completely off guard. standing before them was today’s topic of discussion dressed casually with a few bags in her hand. 
“megumi, mr.gojo! what a lovely surprise to see you two here.” you smiled.
gojo cleared his throat, trying to regain any composure he had left “y-yes, quite a surprise indeed! we were, uh, out shopping for new shoes for megumi.” he tried to reach over to pat megumi’s shoulder, with his eyes on remaining on you, and ends up patting his face.
you glance at the multiple bags being held by gojo, “seems like you guys found something nice.”
“yeah thanks to this idiot.” megumi muttered before swaying gojo’s hand out his face, “he insisted i get new shoes.” 
“well, it was nice seeing you both.” you replied. “i’m actually on my way to a movie. i’ve been meaning to watch the new action movie that recently came out.” 
gojo’s eyes light up at the mention of the film, “oh really?! we were just about to grab something to eat but a movie sounds even better! right megumi?” he glances back at the teenager who seemed to be absolutely mortified by the sudden turn of events. 
“uh, sure but we really shouldn’t intrude-”
“don't be ridiculous!” gojo chuckled before turning to you, “we’d love to join you if that’s okay with you miss. l/n. tickets and snacks on me!” 
you laughed softly at the man’s eagerness, “i don’t mind at all, some company would be nice.” 
megumi gave gojo a “what are you doing?!” look but he was too infatuated with you to even notice. 
as they made their way to the theaters, gojo makes an attempt to make conversation to fill in the comfortable silence. but his nerves seem to hate him.
“s-so, miss. l/n.” gojo’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat before attempting again. “i hear that the, uh, curriculum changed throughout the year. i-is it difficult for you? but i mean i wouldn't be surprised if not since someone like you is capable of handling it well..”
you smiled kindly despite being confused at his sudden awkwardness, “it’s just an adjustment. i’m fine as long as the students are.” 
megumi sighed before yanking gojo aside and whispering, “ please stop, you’re embarrassing yourself. can we just-”
“relax megumi, i’m just trying to make conversation.” gojo said while nervously chuckling.
when they reached the ticket counter, gojo confidently stepped in front of both of them. “three adult tickets please, i’ll be paying.”
the young cashier smiled, “sure thing. i’ll be sure to add on tonight's family discount.” she prints out the tickets and hands them over to gojo. “enjoy the movie and your family night out!”
both megumi and gojo froze, processing her words while you chuckled at the misunderstanding.
“we’re not-” megumi started but was quickly cut off. 
“thank you and we will!” gojo said before snatching megumi by his collar. 
as they entered the theater, megumi gave gojo a stern look before muttering “did you seriously go along with that?!” 
gojo only laughed at megumi’s response to the situation. “why not? it’s kind of nice to be seen as a family, don’t you think?” he turned to you, waiting for your approval. 
your eyes softened towards megumi, “the two of you certainly give off the dynamic of a family. it’s cute to see.”
the theater’s lights start to dim and the chatter that was once there starts being hushed. gojo, being sat in between megumi and you, couldn’t help but keep up his playful demeanor. whenever a dramatized scene came on, he would whisper in your ear witty but funny remarks on it. all megumi heard were giggles coming from his teacher, and being caused by his mentor. 
it was annoying enough to see gojo play his classic playboy persona in front of his teacher. that was what he thought until he further inspected him. despite the horrible lighting, he noticed the subtle signs of nervousness.like the way gojo would lightly tap his fingers on the shared armrest, how he would stumble over his words, or the way he constantly looked over at you as if he seeked approval.
no matter how much of a distraction the both of you were, he couldn’t help but find amusement in watching the two of you. it was a rare sight to see gojo, the overly confident playboy, be genuinely flustered. for once, he decided to let gojo’s antics slide. 
once the credits rolled, megumi leaned into gojo’s ear. “you owe me for this.”
and before gojo could question what he meant by that, he sees him turn his attention onto you. “miss. l/n, i’m actually having trouble adjusting to the curriculum you mentioned earlier. would it be okay if you could tutor me at gojo’s house? he’ll pay you!”
and being the dedicated teacher you are, you respond with genuine concern in your tone. “of course! why didn’t you say anything sooner?!” 
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ataliagold · 8 hours
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Or Maybe We Don't
For @astrangersummer week 7 prompt 'or maybe we don't'.
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington
Rating: G
W/C: 1280
Tags: Steddie, first kiss, getting together, beach holiday, sunset, fluff, Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, love confessions
Summary: It's the final day of Steve and Eddie's summer trip, and Steve has something he needs to tell Eddie.
___
Sunset was approaching, the sky a brilliant array of orange and pink, light sparkling off the water flowing forward then receding away again in gentle waves.
Steve was sitting with Eddie in the sand, looking out across the empty beach. It had been busy earlier – families set up for a day in the sun, kids building sandcastles, people playing in the surf. Most had been day-trippers, now packed up and departed, leaving just Steve and Eddie to take in the slowly sinking sun.
It was their last night at the little seaside house that Robin’s aunty had let them use for a few days for a brief summer getaway.
Robin and Nancy were supposed to have come on this trip with them, but Nancy had come down with some flu she’d caught from Mike and Robin had stayed behind to take care of her.
That left only Eddie and Steve, and this unspoken thing building between them that neither had managed to mention yet.
It was stolen glances, hands brushing not-so-accidentally, Steve quietly giving Eddie the pickles from his burger at the diner, nights spent in front of the TV where neither of them really focused on the movie – they were too busy looking at each other.
“I don’t really want to go home,” Eddie commented, breaking the pleasant silence that had fallen over them, “not yet. S’nice here.”
“I’m sure we can come back,” Steve told him, letting a handful of sand run through his fingers. “With Robin and Nancy.”
Something flashed across Eddie’s face, the slightest wince, and he turned away a little. “Yeah. With them.”
Steve paused. Reached his hand slightly towards Eddie’s, then stopped himself, let his hand fall again.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?” His voice was tight.
Steve frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Ok. Just…you seem kinda…”
“What?”
“I dunno.”
“Good one, Harrington.”
There was no malice in Eddie’s tone, but Steve flinched a little at the old nickname anyway because he and Eddie were so far past that now – or at least, he thought they were.
Steve sighed. “I don’t really wanna go home either. I do miss Robin though.”
Eddie smiled then. “You missed her on our first night here.”
“Yeah,” Steve said sheepishly.
“It’s been good though, right? The last couple of days?”
“Yeah.”
“I know it’s not…well, it’s not really what we’d planned, without the girls, but…”
“I’ve had fun.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Steve’s tongue darted out over his lips, and he looked back out to the water. He knew why their conversation had become so stilted, why things suddenly felt so awkward, but he hadn’t been able to get the courage up to voice it.
To tell Eddie how he felt.
But when was he going to get another chance like this? They were alone, away from prying eyes, from the demands of the kids – out here they could be anyone they wanted to be.
Steve wanted to be Eddie’s.
He snuck a glance at the other boy. Took in the way the light fell across his delicate features, shining off dark brown eyes, his face so pretty despite being slightly clouded by indecision, perhaps the same indecision Steve was feeling right now.
“Eddie –”
“Steve – ”
They spoke at the same time, snapped their mouths shut in sync.
Eddie laughed briefly. Rubbed the back of his neck, tugged a section of hair across his mouth, smiled playfully at Steve.
“You first, big boy.”
“What were you going to say?” Steve asked quietly, because what if he’d been reading this all wrong, what if Eddie was going to say something completely mundane, suggest they eat at the diner tonight instead of Steve cooking, which Steve really hoped he wouldn’t because he was planning on making Eddie’s favourite lasagna as a surprise…
Eddie’s lips twitched. “Probably the same as you,” he said earnestly.
Steve sucked in a breath, let it out a little shakily. Inched his hand towards Eddie’s again.
“I really enjoyed these last few days,” Steve said after a moment. “With you, I mean.”
Eddie nodded, pinky brushing against Steve’s.
“And I think…well, I know how I…feel about you. And it kinda…” Steve trailed off, looked down at his lap, anywhere but Eddie because he could feel his cheeks colouring now, and what if he was about to fuck everything up? He took a deep breath, tried again. “Well, it kinda scares me. Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone else except Nancy, a long time ago. And you know how that ended, and I don’t want that to happen again, not with you. God, not with you.”
Finally, he forced himself to look up, Eddie’s silence too much to bear.
He was looking at Steve softly, openly, his pinky looped over Steve’s now, breeze gently ruffling his hair.
Steve wanted to kiss him.
But he waited, needed to be sure, needed to know he hadn’t imagined everything between them.
“You know I’ve been in love with you since you carried my half-dead ass out of the Upside Down, right?”
Steve blinked several times in response to Eddie’s confession. “Seriously?”
Eddie chuckled. “Yeah. What, like that’s an unreasonable response to Steve Harrington saving your life?”
“I just…I mean, you never…you didn’t say anything.”
“I thought you were straight.”
Steve tipped his head to the side, raised his eyebrows briefly. “To be fair, so did I.”
“So you’re telling me…you’re not?” Eddie continued, his expression hopeful, his pinky curling around Steve’s.
“No,” Steve said, meeting his eyes. “No, because I really want to kiss you right now.”
Eddie swallowed visibly. Leaned in closer, until Steve could feel his warm breath dance across his lips.
“Go on then, Stevie.”
Steve closed the little distance left between them. Kissed him there as the sun farewelled the sky, slow and gentle and a little unsure of himself because he’d never kissed another man before. But instead of his heart rate spiking like he’d expected it to, it slowed under Eddie’s touch, and Steve felt calm and soft and safe because this was Eddie and he’d never felt something so right in this life.
The following day, after spending the night in Eddie’s arms, Steve was driving them back to Hawkins. Back to their jobs, back to their separate homes, back to reality.
Hand in hand across the gearbox, the two spent most of the drive looking at each other, Steve having to force his attention back to the road every now and then.
An hour out of Hawkins, Eddie spoke.
“What do we do, when we get home?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, do we…tell people? Our friends? Wayne? The kids?”
“Do you want to?”
“Well…I want to be able to be with you,” Eddie said, squeezing his hand. “But are you ready for that? Steve Harrington, former Hawkins golden boy, in a relationship with Eddie the freak?”
Steve made a soft noise of protest at that, brought Eddie’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it.
“I want to be with you,” Steve said firmly. “I’m not sure when we tell people, let’s maybe give it a few days to think about it, but…yeah, Eddie. I want you.”
“Because we could…well, I mean, if you wanted to we could…” Eddie’s eyes darted away, looked out the window, back again. “I’d understand if you wanted to pretend this never happened. If you wanted to just go back to normal. We could, if you want.”
I can’t, Steve knew. And looking at Eddie, at his face that was imploring Steve otherwise, he knew Eddie couldn’t either.
Steve smiled at him. Brought Eddie’s hand to his lap and held it securely there.
“Or maybe we don’t.”
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 days
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Ari nooo I can feel childhood friend Oliver burrowing into my brain like a physical ailment.😭 Thinking Abt finally getting to the point where u can answer the question "do you like football?" With "a little, I had a friend who was really into it once." Without feeling like there's a knife in ur ribs.
U being the one who's worked past it and managed to land at a distant 'proud of my old friend' stage, genuinely happy for him, and him seeing you again and loosing his footing bc he has done NO introspection WHATSOEVER.
childhood friends to lovers is my literal kryptonite and this is so…… God…
oliver leaves ur entire relationship so fucking unresolved 😭 like once he’s recruited professionally, he just… packs up all of his shit and leaves. you try for a few months but it quickly becomes clear that this permanent distance and all of your complicated, messy, teenage emotions are no longer something you can deal with. it hurts for the first few years, to see him on TV and in interviews and various dating scandals. u have to let go, and in that - u choose to just think of him as all of good things he was to u and not the bad
but oliver… oliver just put it aside. he was extremely busy. and you know, girls were throwing themselves at him so he just did whatever he felt like. being a fuckboy felt good, felt natural. it was good to be shallow and easier to detach. he never thought about anything between you at all, not even in passing. his womanizing and playboy reputation and taking romance lightly. it was fine. he stopped caring about everything except soccer. bleeds his heart into the sport and leaves everything else behind. his egoism in a way. it made him well and truly untouchable.
but eventually things slow down. it has to have been years. like really, truly years.
you message him when he’s back honey, asking if he wants to catch up. your mom really wants to see him, and oliver feels this cognitive dissonance. it unsettles him
and he sees you. you’re starting to look… womanly maybe. but you’re mostly the same, if not more comfortable. maybe happier. and you seem so genuinely happy to see him. and its been years and oliver is a different person now (is he?), but you look at him the same. he comes over to say hi to your mom and crams himself against the wall of your bedroom like he did when he was 16 and his chest is tight from the pain.
he feels so hollow all of a sudden. it just all suddenly feels meaningless and he just. sits in it. slips. into what or who he doesn’t know. you laugh the same but you wear perfume now. its hard to describe. its like grief and somehow anger. he’s almost angry that all of this is still here, that youre still here, that things can be so different and unchanged. its blinding. its disgusting. you’re the same. naive and difficult to let go of
it makes his skin crawl how much he still feels for you. he resents you in a stupid way and can’t help but express it through sarcasm. how else can he vent still being this fucking tormented by you years later?
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nerdie-faerie · 4 days
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Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart
#summer camp tag#ace is a mess#i do not have a drivers license and i havent even been behind the wheel in like 4 years since i stopped lessons cus of the pandemic#the day was going fine i got loads done didnt feel like i was irritating my director too bad#doing some paperwork for her and she says when im done well take the golf cart out while its not currently raining#im like ooh fun never been in a golf cart before i see the higher up staff in them im not gonna say no to chilling in a golf cart#i did not realise that meant i would be driving esp when she asked if id been in one before and i said no#she then asked if i could drive and i said not really thought that would be it#cus i was supposed to be studying for my theory before working towards my practical#but no she insists im driving and first off i gotta reverse outta this bay now at least i didnt have to think about gears#but i hate tryna figure out how to turn whilst in reverse in mess with my brain im not great with shape visualisation#we do all our stops its fine for the most part a lil too fast going down some of the hills#and some tight turns but my turns were always like that cus im too busy focusing on the most immediate thing#we get back i park fine and then shes like oh actually there are some more stops we can make so i reverse and turn back out#do our two stops with only minimal confusion about direction then as i go to park into the bay we came from#shes like oh actually park in the bay closest to the health centre and what i should have done was reversed and adjusted my angle#instead i drove directly into the supporting beam separating the two bays 🙃😭#i immediately turn the cart off and expect her to switch with me instead shes like laughing it off oh it was just a little bump it was fine#im like it was not that was a loud ass bang i feel so bad and then she lifts up the light cover i broke off saying its just a scratch#and i feel worse so pf course thats when the camp director comes out to check on the noise and i dont think ive ever worn a guiltier look#but theyre both laughing it off oh just having a little driving lesson :) and i am mortified#she gets back in the cart and shes still insisting that its fine and i should still park after that which i do with great trepidation#but there are no more problems and the lights still work but the cover does need fixing and i just oh my god#ive never crashed before never clipped or scratched a car so of course id crash the golf cart trying to park of all things 😭
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hxneylavendxr · 7 months
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hey love live im so happy youre doing covers now really brave of you uhm can we let the older girls in on this yet or..?
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whateveriwant · 5 months
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might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;
Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader
Price
Three words: full body massage
That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)
He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his
He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin
Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted
Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)
By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut
Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone
Ghost
We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in
…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is
Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)
You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work
He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home
He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name
I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses
Gaz
He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening
First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining
Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off
The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes
When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet
He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it
Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion
Soap
‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck
However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up
He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you
Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)
He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting
And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there
By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…
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beiasluv · 2 months
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— op81, cs55, cl16, ls2
a/n: spent so long on the graphic 💀
yourinsta
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yourinsta call me pitbull cuz I’m mr worldwide 🤫 (+🇦🇺🇪🇸🇲🇨🇺🇸)
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landonorris coppiers
yourinsta you’re my og 🫶
landonorris just og? 😔
username I swear if oscar gives us nothinggg
username MY BABY IS SHY OKAY?
username GOOD DAY TO BE A LOGAN SARGEANT FAN 🦅🦅🦅🦅
username I could only pray the Spanish flag is for Fernando 😩
— oscar piastri
Nervously sipping on his emotional support orange juice. Maybe too much nervous sipping.
“So, what’s your type?”
“My girlfriend?”
“Tell her she’s mine too.”
“WOw, will do.”
Cheeks turning red, munching on the fries like a little chipmunk he is.
“I mean– I have three sisters so…”
“That’s a green flag.”
“Thank you?” a piece of chicken in, a smile comes out. “That’s it?”
“Maybe if he’s…Australian, maybe.” you shrugged.
“Yeah.”
“And if he’s…wait. what sign are you?”
“Don’t know..I think it’s kinda nonsense.”
“That’s a red flag.”
“Sorry?” cheeky.
The orange juice was left unattended for a minute. Good sign. Chuckles were still evident.
“Let’s get serious here…” shifting in your seat.
“Yeah.”
“You drive for a living?”
“Yeah, I go around in circles ‘nd stuff,” juice pause. “I could drive you around Melbourne..if you’d want to–”
“And you’ll take me back by eight? Maybe offering your hand as well?”
“Yeah,” squinting face. “I could do that.”
“Lovely.”
— carlos sainz
Does that thing with his eyes, bending down to take the fries in…while keeping an intense eye contact.
“Smooth operator, you like that song?”
“Everyone favorite song no?”
“Hard choice.” pausing your fries mid air. “Spanish songs that I have no idea what they’re talking about could be up there.”
“Really? Tell me one.”
“The one from fast and furious.”
“A lot of them,” throwing his head back. “Can you sing it for me?”
“Asking for me to sing already. You’re in a hurry Carlos?” a sip of your Diet Coke. “Fast Five?”
“Eh..Danza Kuduro?”
“How could I know?” you shrugged. “What’s the song about anyways?”
“Something like…dancing…er…with tight ass.”
“Make sense.”
Looking confused as ever with that big, brown eyes. Mouth agape and shut every time few seconds, curling into a smile most of the time.
“So you’re still looking for job next year?”
“Huh?”
“Lewis Hamilton? Looking for job?”
“Eh..” leaned back in his seat. “Could be. Are you offering?”
“I’m a pretty busy girl..”
“Really? How busy?”
“So you’re up for it? That’s fast.”
“I’ll have to talk to my manager,” raising his eyebrow. “What is your requirement?”
“A Ferrari driver.”
“Sure.”
— charles leclerc
Trying to not laugh his ass off every five seconds or just completely blanks out. Chicken tasted good though.
“Charles, I have to ask you one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“How do you pronounce your last name?”
“I don’t..I don’t care, really.” Shrugging his shoulders. “Charles. Le. Clare.”
“Hm…maybe just use my last name instead, it’s easier.”
“I– yeah?”
“What?”
His chicken was pretty cleaned up the first few minutes. Plenty of confused chuckles.
“Do you think you are a committed person?”
“I…I…it’s a hard question no?” he put his hand together, in an Italian – sorry, Monegasque way. “I like to say I am.”
“I could tell.”
“Really? How?”
“Your contract with Ferrari.”
— logan sargeant
He was used to burger and fries but maybe he could just tolerate chicken and fries for your pretty company.
“What’s your ideal date?”
“Hm..definitely chicken shop dates.”
“Really? Where’s best chicken you ever had then?”
“This one.”
“That’s not an option.”
Subtle stares here and there, his cheeks might be hurting from all the grinning though.
“What’s your ideal type?” munching his ketchup-ed fries.
“So you don’t do researches.”
“I am now.”
“You know…starting to have a thing for Americans. You have any recommendations?”
“You could start by going fishing in the Keys with me,” stretched his arms.
“I’m not into fishy things.”
“Just boat rides?”
“I could do that.”
Coke break.
“Your thoughts on frat boys?”
“They’re fine,” he shrugged.
“And you’re not like a..secret member? Is it like a One Direction..thing?”
“Maybe better looking?” smirked. “I could see myself being one if I wasn’t racing.”
“Dreams do come true, Sargeant.”
“Ouch,” clutching his chest. “Ah– well– Maybe this other dream could come true as well?”
“You being better looking than One Direction?”
tell me who should be in chicken shop dateee 😩😩
– @namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3
Today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!
2K notes · View notes
coco-oats · 7 months
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Weekend reset ✩°。⋆⸜ 🎧
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• Full skincare routine. Face lift massager, pumpkin seed oil, aloe vera mist, retinol eye masks, rose face mask. <333 🌸🪷
• Energy cleansing music. I always enjoy singing bowls and cleansing music to rid me of the week’s stress. (Singing bowls are great, but Sade and Jhené Aiko basically do the same thing too)
• Swimming. Personally, I find water very cleansing and rejuvenating. You can also take a long bath/shower, and fully visualize yourself being cleansed. 🏊‍♀️
• Lots of greens and nutrients + protein. Eating good food makes me feel good, simple as that. I am able to really enjoy and appreciate my food on weekends, which I love. I get to make all of my favourite little treats and nice big meals, love it. 🙏🙏🙏
• Clean room = full declutter session. I can’t stand having a messy room (yet I do, and I usually don’t do anything about it for the whole week). So anywayyyy the weekend is great because I can make sure everything is organized and clean + I feel so good when I declutter.
• Deep meditation and mindfulness exercises. Put on a guided meditation or some simple meditation music and clear your mind. Breathe. It may seem small, but this is a huge act of self love! Taking time out of your busy day to sit and breathe with yourself, amazing. 🧘‍♀️
• Read/write. Writing is an excellent creative outlet. You can let go of all your worries and stresses on paper (love my journal). Or you can write about all the amazing things in your life that make you happy! (All I write about honestly, I can’t help that I love my life so much!)
• Deep stretch and good workout. Your body will thank you for stretching out all your knots and tight muscles. Long workout sessions where you can focus on yourself are the besttttt 💪🤞🏋️‍♀️
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tarjapearce · 8 months
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El Diablo Wears Prada
Mafia Boss! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
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WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Cucking, Forced Voyeurism, A bit of Dark Miguel, Dom! Miguel, P in V, Oral (F receiving) Face sitting, manhandling, mild knife play, criminal undertones, Implied mild exhibitionism, emotional distress, mentions of cheating, Dubious morals, implicit non-con oral at the end (M receiving). No proofread.
Summary: Tired of warnings and dialogues with your stubborn and corrupt husband, The Devil shows up at your home.
A/N: Had to get it out of me. jsksj. Finally. Enjoy (?) ❤️✨.
Pt. 2
From the many times people tried to persuade you from marrying your current husband, none of them were successful.
Massimo Bianchi. An important lawyer that had swooped you off your feet with his smile and Italian charisma.
People often told you that he wasn't good. None had to be a genius to know the man was in shady business as his main job was to defend the top dogs of  corporate world. He didn't have to mingle with underworld criminals to know how they worked cause he was one.
Corrupt lawyer that always came out successful in his cases. But you remained on the shadows, blissfully ignorant of your husband's doings to the world. All you knew was that he was the head of his firm and that alone earned him a good chunk of money.
You thought him good, though your marriage had been cold for the last few years. Even though he spoiled you with things, you didn't want materialistic rewards. You wanted him.
A true fool. Your friends called you. Sometimes you truly wondered if it
was love or just that attachment that had grown over time? The kind that makes one so used to a person that their absence feels odd yet expected? You didn't know nor cared. As long as he kept coming home at night, things would be right. Everything would be fine and the fake illusion of a perfect marriage would keep playing in the background.
And it was. Until death threats kept coming into your mail. All of them saying the same.
Stay away.
Confrontations weren't really your thing, but the tension had turned so dense that arguments were the main course of everyday. Massimo refused to spill the beans as dread only kept growing inside your already rattled mind. Just like the death threats. All of them signed by El Diablo.
"Amore, he is none. Just a petty criminal that is pissed I'm locking up his associates."
Lies, lies and more lies.
A petty criminal wouldn't put you on edge, wouldn't make you feel watched. Cause in truth, wherever you went the feeling of being observed remained etched in every step you took.
"That's exactly what they want you to believe, cara mía. That's a tactic for scum like them to scare decent people like us."
You didn't pressed any further, rather save your breath. He was as closed as an hermetic safe box.
-----
To relax your nerves you decided to go shopping, and returned home with an idea that you were certain would rekindle the cold flame in your marriage. Massimo seemed way too busy in his work to make an approach, and when you wanted to initiate things, he'd just push you away with the excuse that he was exhausted.
And you were tired of toys and your hand. So, you took a bath, lathered your body in rich and delicious smelling oils, and slipped into an emerald green silk and velvet lingerie set you just bought.
You hid it all underneath a skin tight black dress that enhanced your body shape. Hair done in a messy yet sultry look, a subtle fem fatale makeup with a gorgeous shade of burgundy lips.
The sound of your husband's car breaking violently snapped your attention at the front door. Massimo bursted out through the door and you smiled.
"Hey, darling!"
"Pack your shit. We're leaving."
You frowned in confusion at his sudden panicky and antsy state. But most importantly his tone. Urgent, demanding and scared.
"W-What? Where are-"
"There is no time for questions! Just do as I tell you! Now!"
He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the bedroom.
"Massimo, you're scarying me. What's going on?!"
Bianchi groaned as he threw you on the bed, nose flaring in anger at your reluctance.
"Non hai sentito, stupida stronza? Fai quello che ti dico, cazzo!" (Didn't you hear, dumb bitch? Do as I fucking tell you!)
Your teary eyes widened at him, frantic and fumbling with the suitcases. Filling them with papers and valuable objects. Not even clothes, just things you were sure he treasured more than your marriage.
"MOVE IT!" He roared and you blinked away your tears, scrambling out of his sight. He muttered things you didn't understand much as he shoved more papers inside. You grabbed the first suitcase you found and filled in with the necessary.
The sound of cars breaking and revving into the pebbled porch of your luxurious  home made Massimo to pull out a gun, you gasped and he ushered you to come closer. You kneeled next to him as he spoke in hushed whispers.
"No matter what happens, you remain silent okay?"
Your trembling hands clung to him as fear begun numbing your judgment. There was a collective round of car's doors slapping shut and footsteps that approached almost in scary synchronization.
"Go through the pool entrance, take this with you and leave. I'll see you in the other apartment"
"N-No, Massi-"
He kissed you, as he pushed a stack of documents further in your hands.
"No matter what, don't let them get this, ok?" His hushed whispers didn't help soothing your already fried nerves
"Massimo!"
"Go!"
He dispatched you with an angry growl, shaking legs scrambled once more ducking down the windows. You removed the heels as you crossed the manor, tears momentarily blurring your sight as you reached the pool. A shot in the air made you still, before you ran back inside.
A few shots and screaming voices followed you. The pained screams of your husband along some grunts made you whimper in fear. You hid behind the kitchen's large breakfast island as steps echoed ominously close. No matter in what direction you tried to go, the men, clad in black and red were there. Awaiting for their prey. Anything that moved.
The paper crumpled under your tight grip, and you covered your mouth, to remain as quiet as possible. Heavy steps retired from your area, and you exhaled in mild relief. Heart pumped hard with every passing beat, you snuck past the island to go back to the main entrance.
And just as you were about to taste freedom, the largest man you had ever seen, clad in a rich black suit and polished shoes, blocked your entrance with a stoic gaze that shifted into a shameless smirk upon seeing you.
Big, strong and long limbs trapped you against him as you cried and thrashed in a meek attempt to free yourself.
"Shh, shhh shh"
His nose nuzzled your neck and you stilled, tears rolled down your cheeks as he pointed a gun to your head. The cold metal against your temple made your breathings erratic.
"Tranquila, corazón. I'm not gonna hurt you." (Relax, sweetheart)
He dragged you to one of the many spare rooms in the house. A tall black woman with a frondous afro was finishing tying Massimo on the ground to then wipe away the blood caked in her brassed knuckles. 
His handsome face littered in bruises, a blooming dark eye on his left, a busted lip and his broken nose was all that remained after the bravado he often boasted up. Your heart couldn't help but sink in further at the sight.
You tried to go to his side, but the man only tightened his grip on you.
"Mr. Bianchi."
The man holding you spoke, to then aim his gun to him.
"S-Stop! Please!"
He kissed you deeply as his hands handcuffed your hands back. The kiss was so fast you barely had time to digest it, just like everything that was happening around you.
"You really need to shut your pretty mouth for a bit, cariño."
"Hei! Lasciala!" (Hey! Leave her)
A blonde man kneed him in the stomach, knocking all the air out of Massimo as he doubled in pain.
"Stop!" You squealed in between hiccups. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. The papers you were given were long gone from your hands.
The woman with the afro smirked upon reading them.
"We got it, Miguel."
Massimo gulped at the name. Miguel O'Hara, one of the major criminal Don's in the underworld, El Diablo himself had came to his home to collect his reaps.
"I tried to be a reasonable man with you, Mr. Bianchi, but given your stubborn nature to cooperate and pay what's rightfully mine, I must take drastic measures for you to understand that I don't like being lied to."
Miguel made a sign for everyone to leave.
"M-Massi? What... What is he talking about?"
"You lie to your lovely wife?" His face turned one of disgust and his large feet pushed Massimo's head on the ground, his swollen cheek flattening against the expensive Prada shoes adorning Miguel's feet.
You only looked away as your husband groaned in pain despite Miguel holding back from hurting him seriously.
" You see, cariño. Your doting husband right here, has been fucking around with my associates."
He removed the outer layer of his suit and carefully laid it on a nearby chair.
"People that have worked hard for what they have and have come to me in dire need of protection against this... greedy coward."
Your eyes snapped back to Massimo as he kept folded in pain, his eyes adverted from you.
"Bribing the judges, increasing taxes, charging extra fees to those who need him? And not enough, this cabrón tiene los huevos para pedir dinero en mi nombre." (This fucker has the guts to collect money in my name.)
His meaty mouth clicked in disapproval. 
"Is that true?"
He remained quiet, blood caking on his lips and chin.
"Massimo, look at me. Is that true?!"
"I'm really sorry you have to find out this way, preciosa. But don't you worry. I know he will pay."
Dread sunk in further at his words. If there was something you were so sure of, that if your life depended on it you wouldn't fear in risking it, is the little fact that your husband never really had the intention of paying debts.
A habit that stuck with him in your dating stage, something he never grew out of. And now the fatal consequences were only added in his karma balance.
"The hell I am!" Bianchi spat at his shoes, and Miguel, unbuttoned his shirt to then pull out a cigarette. He took a long drag. Cherry scent filled in your lungs as he blew the smoke in his direction.
"I'll put you behind bars, O'Hara!"
Miguel chuckled, showing his canines. One of the reasons of his nickname.
He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and crushed the ablaze end on your husband's forehead. A new groan of pain along a few Italian curses filled in the room.
You looked away, too scared and stunned to actually do something. What help could you possibly be? You were handcuffed, barefooted and emotionally all over the place. The many warnings about him finally weighing on your shoulders.
Your name was called between breathless and pained yelps, but you refused to acknowledge him.
"Let her go, please." You heard him, speak, but no words or pleas seemed to move Miguel. He just stared at Massimo with a bored expression as he crouched to meet his eyes.
"Hope you have told her that you cheated her with one of my favorite colleagues."
His words were the last stab you could handle, you broke in tears.
"I should kill you for that alone, but that would be too merciful of me."
Miguel stood up and prowled over you, his hands reached for your face and wiped away your tears carefully.
"I am a firm believer of 'An eye for an eye', Mr. Bianchi."
He removed the shirt, leaving his torso bare before you, eyes couldn't help but wander before retreating away, Miguel smirked.
"Are you?"
Massimo glared at him, heaving through the pain as he pulled a pocket knife and approached you.
"I'll have to make you a believer, then."
The sharp of the blade slid down your dress, enough to tear through the fabric covering your breasts. His lips pursed to give an appreciating whistle upon seeing your mounds clad in the velvety and silky texture of your lingerie.
" Con permiso, cariño." (Excuse me, darling)
Big hands took each a piece of fabric to tear the dress in half as you gasped and tried to scurry away from him. A hand grope your nape and you stilled.
One of his hands was big enough to pull you before your husband as the other one rested on the dip of your waist.
"Look at that. Por Dios... Was this a surprise for him?"
Upon your silence he squeezed your nape a bit tighter and you yelped.
"Y-Yes!"
"Too fucking bad he doesn't deserves it, right preciosa?"
"Don't you dare to touch her!"
Miguel nearly cackled at his measly threats. He took a couch and placed it before him. The coolness in the room made your skin crawl, but when he kissed your neck, an involuntary gasp left your lips.
"How long has been since this man touched you?"
His hands roamed your body, fingertips grazed your silky covered nipples as his other hand ghosted over your velvet clad pussy.
Another tiny whimper as he sat down on the couch, you were placed ontop of him, your thighs stretched, making to meet the width of his well sculpted ones, clad in fine wool. Hot and moist tongue caressed the upper part of your earlobe.
"M-Months"
You gulped and his touches stopped.
"You steal, you cheat and are a con man, yet you refuse to touch your wife? And me thinking I was the monster here."
He sat you in one of his thighs and pinched the bridge of his nose, an annoyed and incredulous look on his face.
"Lucky for you I'm in a good mood right now. Vamos a arreglar eso." (Let's fix that)
His hand cupped your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. Upon feeling his tongue invading your mouth, you recoiled but this only enticed him to snake his tongue around yours, sucking it and savoring you. The oils in your skin tickled his nose, a sweet and delicious scent that he'd often gift to his most prominent conquers.
But the way you had so dotingly prepared yourself for the cheating of a man you had for a husband, stirred something within him. You groaned as you demanded for air.
A thin dribble of his saliva connecting your mouths as hot pants fanned on eachother's lips.
He kneeled behind you and rolled your silk and velvet panties down your hips and knees. He tossed them away and bent you over, earning a yelp from you as your face was inches away from your alarmed husband.
"Don't" He shook his head and whispered. It came out like a silent plea that you ignored as Miguel sunk his face between your thighs from behind with a groan. Tongue teasing your mound, caressing softly at your clit.
You trembled and clenched your jaw to avoid moaning too loud. Shame spurted over your face in the shape of a bright red flush and a heavy feeling on your stomach. Big tanned thumbs spreaded your cheeks, to push himself deeper. His tongue lapped and teased; learning your skin's taste and texture that felt wonderful on his tongue and taste buds.
Wet and sloshing slurps made you pant and choke a moan as his hands grabbed your hips, exhorting them to use his handsome face as a seat. His tongue dribbled up and down your shivering and soaked flesh.
You groaned.
"Oh my god!" You mewled as you rode his face softly, "I-I'm so sorry!"
You spoke in between breathless pants as Miguel just moved your hips faster. Your mouth went slack and your needy breath fanned over your husband.
"Cara mía?" He'd whisper with pleading eyes but you were too enraptured in your brewing bliss. By instinct your hips seeked the movements of his tongue, chasing that relief only his mouth seemed to provide.
Legs quivered as they stood in their tip toes that curled in everytime he toyed with your clit. The smoothenes of his ministrations and the unceasing wet slurps he gave in your flesh, inched you closer and closer to the dangerous precipice of corruption and pleasure.
Another man was devouring you with such hunger you didn't think possible, as your lawful husband was forced to watch as you came right before him. It made your knees weak.
Eyes drooped before they clamped shut and your mouth hissed through panting and erratic breaths a needy Yes!
The guards outside the closed door were unfazed at Miguel’s antics. But the smirk on their faces were full of pride. El Diablo, their boss was someone people often had the misfortune of underestimate, until they were no longer laughing and rather plea for mercy or death, whichever came first.
Your hands behind your back slowly tingled as numbness spreaded upwards your arms.
Miguel separated himself and wiped his chin off your delicious slick and pulled the couch closer, he unzipped his pants and spreaded your thighs above his once more. Your chest heaved as you nested against his torso, fire licking your skin at the contact. The pocket knife was brought to your skin as he locked eyes with a disturbed yet aroused Massimo.
The tip of the sharp blades ran down up your torso, leaving a faint pink trail on it's wake, your breath hitching at the sensation until it reached the elastic lower band of your bra that held the cups together.
You didn't expected the quality elastic to give in so easily under the sharpness of a frail looking knife. Your breast spilled from the velvety green confinements and Miguel groaned while he hissed in delight at the sight.
He slapped your husband's face with a serious scowl
"Watch and learn how to treat a woman, cabrón."
Miguel fumbled with his pants and cotton briefs before releasing his aching and hard cock free. Bianchi adverted his eyes, embarrassed as defeat washed over him.
Miguel slapped the tip against your drenched folds, a cue for you to move your hips and smear more of your slick all over him before sinking in balls deep.
The intrusion felt delightful and painfully tight. Inner muscles clamped around him, making his head be thrown back, relishing not only at how hot and delicious you felt, but also at the feeling of your tightness trembling around him.
"Maldita sea preciosa, me estás matando". (Goddammit beautiful . You're killing me)
His hands hooked underneath the back of your knees, making you lean against him completely. Firm and cinnamon skin toned pecs supported your arching back.
Massimo couldn't help but peek under his disheveled hair and he nearly gasped at the sight. You were completely full and stretched at the size of his hefty cock. He could see your lower belly bulging a bit as his shaft rested within you. Bianchi was unable to look away, as emasculated as he felt.
A firm slap of his hips and it sent you curling your toes. Hips accommodated further in the single couch as his lips kissed your neck, canines grazing at your sensitive skin.
"So fucking tight f'me" He plunged you deeper, finally letting your walls meld to his size to then begin his slow thrusting. As much as he was dying to raw you silly, he had enough self control to be careful and not ruin you. That would come later.
It had been a long long time since he actually enjoyed having this kind of revenge. His eyes gave a quick glance to his beaten enemy and smirked in satisfaction when he noticed the bulge in between his imitation pants. Your hands fisted behind you, letting him to stretch you completely.
Your hips gave a soft rut, snapping his attention back to you, surprised you'd seek more of him.
His hands pushed your hips down onto him and your breast bounced. His eyes stalked yours, to assert his control, but you gave in so easily. Months of being untouched had made you a needy and sodden mess.
You were tired of your toys, and now that you had the real deal, it felt too good to let it slip. Things with your husband were surely done for anyways as fucked up as the situation was.
He'd probably be killed either way.
"Eyes on me, cariño" And just then, a sinful symphony of wet and merciless thrust fell upon you. Everytime he slid in made your pussy drool at his punishment. You cooed and stared at him with such a lovely and needy expression Miguel engraved in his mind.
Tears bit at the corner of your eyes as they drooped, taking your mind in this continuous trance of being torn between getting absolutely fucked out and coherent enough to give him a vocal reply like a moan or a praise and apologies to your voyeur.
"Cara mía, Don't do this to me" Bianchi shook his head in denial, but that only enticed Miguel to make it rougher.
Shy moans turned into shameless mewls and implorings that enticed him to ruin you at his contempt. The con man wished to cover his ears, but it was too delicious and forbidden to not indulge. Unavoidable too. Your pleas turned into lewd wailings and howlings. The tears and mascara long caked and dried on your cheeks.
Despite three years deep in marriage your husband would never care enough to leave you satisfied. It was everything about him, not really minding if you finished yourself by whatever means you found or thought right.
But this, this was pure torture. Sure, he didn't do anything to please you, but the thought of you being with another man always made him kick enough with the right amount of jealousy that would keep you satisfied for at least a couple of months while he kept ruining lives.
The slaps and Miguel's grunts turned desperate.
"Just like that! Yes!" You sobbed as his sac slapped against your clit, serving a good amount of punishment to your sensitive nub of nerves.
Your skin shook, breast bounced as you squirmed and twitched in absolute enjoyment.
"Like that, princesa?"
You nodded in between blown breaths, the pressure coiled tightly in the pit of your stomach. Menacing to snap at any second.
The sex and his Oud Wood by Tom Ford undertoned sweat made a puddle of your mind. Mouth gaped and shallow breaths came clenching through gritted teeth but he stopped just when you were about to greet God to release your hands from the back.
He pushed you on the floor on all your trembling fours, wool pants discarded completely, just as his CK briefs. Everything of him exuded with luxury. Even his rutting felt like an exotic meal you've tasted for the first time and you'd never go back to settle for anything less delicious and mind blowing than this.
But poor Massimo Bianchi was a reminder of your golden band that was wrapped around your ring finger.
Miguel's hand held tightly around the base of your neck, both hands melded at the size of your frail joint. both his feet planted on each side of you, caging you between his hips, and he sheathed once more in your already puffed and beaten pussy, making you yelp at the fullness and depth.
"Miguel!" You cried as your hands held on your husband's crossed legs. Your body lurched forward, meeting his cock in a merciless pace it had you bubbling like a total fool.
"I'm... Im sorry" A choked whimper, "Oh god, I'm so sorry Massi" Your mouth mumbled before Miguel squeezed your neck to keep you from apologizing to him, choking words in your gaping mouth.
He didn't deserve your regret, he deserved nothing. He wouldn't give him that much satisfaction.
"But it feels so good!"
You rasped and Miguel smiled darkly.
"Why don't you give him a farewell kiss, cariño?"
You shook your head and he frowned.
"No? Should I stop then?"
A whimper. Eyes twinkled in amusement as you reached for your husband and forced a kiss on him while El Diablo plowed remorselessly into you.
Bianchi could only whimper in pain as you bit his busted lip and kissed him, with a rough motion Miguel pulled you away from him. Your head far too gone into a place only he could reach. His panting and mumblings had turned borderline animalistic. He had praised you through it all and you were more than willing to comply.
Your body went taut, spent walls milked and creamed him as he cradled you against his torso. Body convulsed in bliss as he spilled his hot, sticky and big load inside your spasming walls. He laughed at your husband and at your dumb-bitch gone look.
He gave you a deep smooch before laying you on the couch. He slicked his hair back and caught his breath for a couple of minutes to then put on back his boxers. His eyes darted to an expectant Massimo.
Eyes wide. Still deciding between feeling horrified and happy for having such a twisted fantasy come true. A sick fuck through and through.
"I expect my payment within a month. More than enough time for you to collect what you owe me, Max."
Miguel purposely butchered his name as he threw his thousand dollars shirt you way.
"Put that on. We're taking a ride."
----
His men had escorted you back to his car. An armored black Bulletproof Lincoln Navigator SUV. House slippers was the only thing he had allowed you to get on your feet. The cold seemed to not affect his naked torso as he waltzed out your now wrecked home.
The cologne in his shirt stronger, as it covered your naked body from prying eyes.
"Get inside"
"N-No"
Miguel's nostrils flared in anger, despite the dazing and scrumptious raw fucking he put you through some moments ago, you knew he was a dangerous man.
"Why wouldn't you just-"
"-Ta madre, que entres al puto carro, mujer!" (Fucking shit, get into the fucking car, woman!)
His booming voice made you still with a frown. His temper switching surely made you confused. Tears welled up in your eyes, and seeing the sluggishness you took to get in, made him drag you inside himself, and sat beside you and sighed.
His sour mood was thanks to one of his men, Peter. He had the most awful timing to deliver news. One of his younger recruits had been shot. Not fatally shot, but surely would cost him a great chunk of money. Bribing judges to prevent him from sending him to prison, and medics through thirds would take some resources he was planning to use in another mission.
Miles G. Morales.
The name made his patience even shorter, and it didn't helped you were sniffling as your hands rubbed your ring despite the sore wrists.
After all he did to you you still thought about that cheating cuck?
No. He wouldn't allow it. Not when he has already found a perfect use for you.
As the ride begun he pulled up the middle window, blocking his sight from Ben as he drove. He made a couple of calls, you were recoiling away from him at every chance he tried to wipe your tears. Reject was something he was used to, that didn't mean it set right in his heart. And it showed as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock once more.
The calls ended and he tossed the phone back to the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out his gun to rest it on your temple.
Your eyes widened as he spoke.
"Clean it."
Fear clung to you as a new wave of tears rolled down your cheeks. But your mouth beat you to voice your true desires.
"No."
His brow quirked and smiled darkly once more. He grabbed your hair and pulled you down on your knees before him. Legs still recovered from the previous cucking session, not that he cared anyways. The SUV cabin was spacious enough for him to pull the stunt.
"Funny you think you have a saying, cariño. Now be a good girl and clean my fucking cock. You made a mess out it."
The gun was pressed further, the click of his safety removal made you gulp.
Was this the life that you'd get from now on? It couldn't be. Part of your brain refused to acknowledge him as your owner, but the other part was terrified and intrigued to see how all of this would unfold for you. You won't make things easy for him as he was already making it a living hell for you.
You mouth begun to work him as he pulled another cigarette and blew the smoke in your direction.
The Devil seemed pleased. For now.
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ishipgenfics · 9 months
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Outsider POV on Somewhere Else Jonathan Sims must be just. so much.
Like imagine. You're part of a support group, and a new guy decides to join. You ask him his name and he says, "Jonathan," and then after a long pause, "Blackwood. Jonathan Blackwood. But call me Jon."
He doesn't like tape recorders. You only know this because the person who hosts the support group is into retro things, and tries to keep a couple around. She turned one on once when someone asked about it, and you noticed Jon clutching his nails into his hands so tight he's nearly breaking the skin. You lean over and whisper, "Do you want me to ask her to stop?" He says, "It's fine," and you nod, but you still try and change the subject whenever people bring up tape recorders from that point on.
He full-body flinches one day when someone says Hello, Jon. Nearly slams into a wall and everything. He tries to play it off, but after that people say Hi Jon, or Nice to see you, or things like that. Anything but Hello.
He says he used to work at a 'non-profit for studying the supernatural'. Someone asks where it was and he says London. You tell your wife about it, and two days later she emails you an article. Magnus Institute Burns Down In 1999. It was in Manchester. You tell her not to bring it up again.
The guy is snarky and blunt and downright rude at times, but when a woman comes in and tells them about being trapped in a empty warehouse for a week, he comforts her in a way none of the rest of them know how. "I believe you," he says, repeats it like a mantra, like a prayer. "I believe you." He says 'I'm sorry' less like he's sorry this happened to her, and more like he's taking the blame onto himself.
He talks about Martin, sometimes. His reason, he calls him. Normally you'd point out that while it's of course good to love your partner, you should have other reasons to live, but you stay quiet. This guy needs all the happiness he can get.
You leave a little late that day, and when you do you hear him on the phone talking to someone. "She'd been touched by the Lonely, Martin!" he says. "Which is bad, of course, but--" he seems to choke up, "Martin, I didn't feel any compulsion for a Statement. A-at all. I think it's really gone."
You just walk by.
You don't know what's going on with Jon, but it really isn't any of your business. You're an anxious queer lesbian and he's a traumatized ace guy, and you aren't going to make his life any harder than you have to.
Just. Jonathan Sims in a support group.
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killakalx · 19 days
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“oh my god- dick,” you scold from above, legs clamping around his head as he sucks on your clit. all you get is a sly hum against your heat in response, hand gliding up and down your thighs before locking around your hips. still, the rude vibrations against your nightstand makes you antsy, and dick seems too occupied to acknowledge it as you reach across the bed. “dick!”
“hm,” he barely responds, as the tug on the front of his hair only urges him on.
“cut it out,” you tell him.
his tone picks up a bit of disappointment, worried to have done something wrong. dick finally picks his head up, eyes hanging low and lingering on your lips before looking up at you. “you really want me to?”
“no,” you sigh, “but I… I had a date. hold on.”
his expression changes from an apologetic puppy to an almost irritated cat, tilting his head when you pick up the phone. he’s not mad, it just… feels a little rude, interrupting his meal for the same guy you were so ready to ghost. dick was the first to tell you that you wouldn’t follow through with it, and he’s getting bit in the ass for being right.
and on top of that, listening to the half-assed apology you had to come up with is painful. you can’t exactly tell the guy you’re busy with your best friend, but god he wishes you could. he’s been taught by only the best that patience is a virtue, but it easily slips his mind for this one incident. “yeah- no, it’s not your fault!” you repeat over and over, “I just got caught up. forgot about some stuff i had to- mm!”
“you’re rude,” dick whispers in feigned offense, thumb rolling over your clit when he pushes your legs open a bit further. “had me thinking I was interrupting something.”
“you are!” you yell under a hushed voice, covering the speaker of the phone before your breath hitches.
“mm-mm,” his head lowers again, “he’s interrupting me.” your leg moves to kick at his shoulder, but he’s already secured you under his grip and it’s evident he isn’t letting go again. you’d opt to yell at him, but that’d be very telling. “since you want both of us, just stay on the phone.”
“what? no, you-“
“hang up too soon and i’ll stop. get too loud and I’ll keep going.”
you can hear the mischief seeping through his teeth before his tongue prods at your cunt, and at this point, your planned date’s wondering what happened, so you’ve got no choice but to pull this off. god knows the last thing you want dick to do is stop. so, begrudgingly, you continue the conversation that’s only hanging by a thread.
your responses teeter from choppy sentences to low hums as he speaks, and dick’s snickering to himself when it’s unclear if your poor conversation holding stems from true boredom or from his tongue lapping up your slick. one hand holds on tight to a mess of black hair while the other fidgets with the phone, eventually digging it into the covers to give yourself grace.
“he’s talking to you,” dick mutters against your thigh, fingers curling up inside you and making your hips buck. he’s drawn out a low but clearly audible moan and he dips deeper to nudge at your sweet spot, keeping true to his promise and watching you unravel as the chatter from your phone becomes distant. “he sounds worried, babe.”
don’t act like you care, you wanna tell him, but he’s right. a few more moans of defeat and you’re forcing the phone closer to your face, assuring him that you’re fine. you can’t tell what’s more impressive; how long dick can spend savoring your pussy or how long this guy can hold a useless conversation without catching a hint.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 2 months
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solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)
summary: harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it?
words: 6.4k (she's long)
warnings: smut in this one: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing, dirty talk, fingering, creampie.
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"Just lay down on the table and relax. I'll take good care of you."
Y/N tried to keep her voice steady and professional as she greeted her new client, the one and only Harry Styles. The famous former athlete turned singer was lying face down on the massage table, a towel draped over his lower body.
Y/N had been a masseuse at this high-end spa for two years, but she had never worked on someone so famous before. She was intimidated but determined not to show it. Treating Harry just like any other client was the only way she could get through this.
"You're the expert," Harry's muffled voice came from the face cradle. "I'm in your hands."
Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.
She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.
"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"
"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."
Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.
As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands. 
Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.
For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.
"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"
Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.
"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."
To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."
His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.
Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."
"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."
Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.
She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.
By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.
As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."
Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."
Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.
But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."
As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.
Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter. 
At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.
However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.
For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.
One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.
"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."
The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."
Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now. 
Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.
"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"
She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.
To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.
"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"
Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.
Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"
If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...
The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.
When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.
But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.
"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."
Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.
"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"
Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"
The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.
By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.
"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."
Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense. 
"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."
Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."
She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.
Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.
"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."
He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.
"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"
Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.
Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"
Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.
"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."
The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.
"Then it's official. We're a couple now."
Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?
"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.
To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."
He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.
"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.
Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."
The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.
***
Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.
They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.
One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.
To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile. 
"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"
Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"
"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"
Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.
"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"
Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."
The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously. 
After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.
By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.
That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.
"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."
After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.
"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."
Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.
Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.
It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.
After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.
One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.
Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.
"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."
While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.
By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.
Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.
"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude. 
She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.
Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.
"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."
Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed. 
This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.
By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.
Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.
Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.
She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.
When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.
"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."
Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.
"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.
Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.
"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."
"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.
The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.
"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."
As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.
Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.
Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.
"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."
Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.
Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.
She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.
"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."
Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.
"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.
Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.
His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.
Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..
Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.
"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."
Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.
"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."
The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.
Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.
"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"
Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.
Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.
"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."
With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.
"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."
His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.
"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.
True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.
Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.
By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.
Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.
"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"
Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words.  He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.
Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.
"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."
Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.
She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.
“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”
She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.
“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”
Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.
She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.
Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.
“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.
“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.
“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.
“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.
“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.
She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.
“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”
He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.
“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.
“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.
“Just a little longer, Almost done”
He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.
He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.
He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.
***
The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.
There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?
Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.
"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"
The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.
"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."
But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.
What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?
The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...
(next part)
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)
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1K notes · View notes
jnnul · 5 months
Text
riding enhypen hc's <3
a/n: entirely self-indulgent filth is at your service! i spiraled & sunoo's is genuinely dangerous. word count: 1.4k genre: nsfw...straight smut.
yang jungwon
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freaks out
when you asked him if you could ride him, he freaked out
first, he had to figure out the logistics, then why you wanted to do it in the first place, then - !
you tell him to just stop thinking and let you make him feel good
so when he hesitantly agrees, he's still worried you're somehow going to manage to hurt yourself
until you finally, finally ease yourself down, pausing every so often to get used to his length
and then you bottom out
and jungwon sees heaven
he's too busy trying not to cum like a virgin the second you bottom out to remember why he was so worried in the first place
looking at his expression, you move to lift yourself off of him when his hands find your hips and keep you seated
"don't move. feels good."
you almost laugh at the neanderthal language your boyfriend is using but suddenly, he's guiding your hips forward and you're too shocked to laugh
goddamn. you knew it would feel good for him but not this good
jungwon never tries to control your movements when you have sex but clearly, this was a new experience for him
you like it. a lot.
as you do it more often and jungwon gets more used to it, he likes being a little more dominant by telling you to stop or keep going
mostly because knowing that you like it makes him horny as fuck
lee heeseung
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b e g s you to do it
except he manages to do it in a way where you’re convinced that it was your idea in the first place
tries his best to keep his hands to himself
fails every time
kinda like jungwon, his hands always just naturally gravitate towards your hips
loves to control your pace and drag your hips slowly against his
bc he knows how much you hate it
he makes sure to bring you to the edge and rip your pleasure away at the last second
he's a fucking asshole (and you tell him as much) but he just laughs and kisses your tears away
definitely the type to tell you to sit slowly only to knock the wind out of you by thrusting suddenly
loves it when you grab his shoulders, trying to steady yourself
he gets such an ego boost when your thighs are shaking, and your grip on his body is too tight
he likes knowing that he's the single man on earth who could make you feel this good
will 100% kiss your collarbone when you're leaning over him
riding him is fun, teasing but also really romantic when he wants to be
absolutely will not flip you over, even when you get tired
"you're tired? that's alright, baby. we've got all night and nowhere to be."
park jongseong
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such a cutie patootie bc he's always thinking abt if you're going through too much trouble
honestly, you would only be able to ride him when he's really tired
or when he's feeling a little down or when you just wanna spoil him
bc he l o v e s it when you ride him but he's always so worried abt you :(
sits against the headboard so that you can have more stability
presses so many kisses against your chest and neck
loves it when you're slow and grinding against him, just enjoying how full he makes you feel
loves it even more when you're riding him like it's the only thing you can think of doing in that moment
absolutely runs his hands up and down your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him
always is kissing you btw
no matter how fucked out you are (or he is, tbh) he's always kissing you bc you're going out of your way to make him feel good
just so incredibly love w you
will absolutely be asking if you want him to flip you over and make you feel good
doesn't believe you when you say that riding him does make you feel good
accidentally leaves bruises on your hips from how hard his grip is on you
kisses every single one of the bruises he leaves because he feels so sorry :(
definitely a groaner and his head falls back when you bottom out
he's such a romantic omg
jake sim
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so excited cannot control himself
will beg you to ride him and is not ashamed of it
"yeah and you would too if your s/o was as hot as mine."
is kinda silly abt it because for him, pleasure is the ultimate goal
so even though you're riding him, he will 'accidentally' thrust upwards just to see you gasp
absolutely the type to do goofy shit in the middle to see you lose your breath
gets such an ego boost when you're sweating, trying not to cum before him when he's making it so hard for you
is a rlly sensual person so if the vibe is kinda serious, he will absolutely be pushing your hair back, pressing kisses against your shoulders
prefers you to ride him when the two of you are sitting
like sitting in an armchair or some shit
he feels like he's closer to you and he rlly likes the feeling of you clinging to him (kinda like heeseung)
is super versatile? like he gets turned on by pretty much everything and is into everything
so he can go from having a rlly serious vibe and kissing you senseless while you're seated full of him
to bouncing you on his dick faster than you can even register the switch
gets such a kick of adrenaline when you're fucked thoughtless when you're riding him
especially when you're babbling nonsense about how you don't want to stop and that you're in love w his dick
ABSOLUTELY goes feral for the praise
park sunghoon
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one serving of a cocky ass mf when you first suggest it ("LMAOO you like like me")
kinda like jay in that he feels bad at first bc he rlly only lets you do it when he's feeling rlly tired
or when he just wants to be taken care of
since most of the time, he likes it for you to just sit back and relax
when he finally gives in though, he enjoys it to the fullest
absolutely accidentally edges you while he edges himself
everything feels so intense that he just needs you to stop every so often for you to catch your breath
and for him to get his head straight
but his thoughts grow cloudier and cloudier the longer you ride him
eventually, he gives up the reigns to you and that's when the fun really begins
he's such a sweetie when he's so far gone
tries his best to be quiet but just starts babbling when you ride him like it's the only thing you can think of doing
his hands are all over your body, trying to find something to anchor himself to
mark. him. up.
loves feeling special to you and feeling like you'd never give anyone else the chance to make you feel good like this
i wouldn't say that he's subby necessarily but he kinda gives into a more gentle and pliable side of him that you normally don't see
and when he cums, good god praise him so much pls :( he deserves it
kim sunoo
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actually the best person to ever ride (i say this from personal experience)
slightly more dominant than usual because he loves seeing you melt when he takes control
snaps his hips up when you least expect it to see you whimper
gets such an ego boost when you lose your strength and fall into his arms
will hold you close to his chest as he fucks into you
kisses you when you're leaning into him
very slow and steady and purposeful with his movements, making you want more when he does the slightest movements
laughs when you nearly pass out after you cum (not in a mean way) (in a slightly mean way)
thinks you're absolutely adorable and likes watching you fumble for a couple moments before he starts guiding you
honestly probably doesn't let you do it very often bc he has to be in a very specific mindset for it
probably only happens when you're feeling RLLY needy
it's also probably just foreplay to him before he flips you over and fucks you until your mind goes absolutely blank
might even get freaky with it
do not get surprised if he ties your hands behind your back with a tie or smth
and tells you to 'get moving' in teasing way
overall, unlocks a side of him that you rarely get but absolutely love every time that you see it
3K notes · View notes
cloudybarnes · 9 months
Text
Busy Bee
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader
Summary: you may have accidentally fallen asleep on draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them
Word Count: 2.6k+
Masterlist
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✰  ✰  ✰
“Blaise, move your big arse away from my comfy spot.”
You had a tiring day of classes, and wanted nothing more than to just relax for the rest of the night. You had gone back to the Slytherin common room to hopefully see some of your friends and just wind down for the night. 
Everyone in Slytherin knew there was one special spot on the lounge couch that was reserved for you. You had spent countless hours and dozens of nights in that exact spot either studying or just hanging out with friends. That was your spot, and when you came into the common room, everyone knew to make way for it. 
Blaise chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, (Y/N), didn’t realize you’d be back so early.”
“Early?” You exclaimed as you jumped into your spot. “I’ve been busting my butt all morning for these stupid exams. I’m exhausted.”
Pansy groaned from her spot on the floor. “Why don’t you just cut yourself a break once in a while? It’s no fun when my best friend is too busy for, like, anything anymore.”
You frowned. “I’m not too busy for you! I’m here now, aren’t I?” You grabbed a blanket from the stockpile you kept in the common room, and wrapped yourself tight in it. 
Pansy rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just in time to hear about the latest shit with Emma.” 
Pansy had a wild grudge against this poor Hufflepuff girl who didn’t even know that Pansy was beefing with her. It was quite funny, honestly, but you loved Pansy enough to let her moan on about what annoying thing Emma does everyday. 
“Oh goody.” Draco came out from the stairwell into the common room with a roll of his eyes. “Another go round of how insufferable you think that Hufflepuff is.” 
He glanced over to see you cocooned in your blanket and let out a soft laugh. Draco took his seat next to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you. 
Draco intrigued you. Over the last year, the two of you had grown quite close. You considered Draco a good friend, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish it were more. Draco was kind. He was flirtatious and charming, but he was sweet and gentle with you as well. Sometimes you thought Draco may have feelings for you in return, but you were far too scared to confront him about it. 
“Well, for starters, we already know how much of a know it all she is, but for some reason she has to showboat just how smart she is. You’d think she was a Ravenclaw what with how obsessed she is with being correct.” Pansy said. 
Blaise started to respond to her squawking when Draco shifted closer to you. Blaise’s voice drifted away as you focused your attention to Draco. 
“You alright, Dray?” You asked. 
He smiled slightly. “Yeah, just trying to get comfortable. Salazar knows Pansy will be talking about this nonsense for hours.” 
Draco dropped his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder and pull you into him. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, silently hoping Draco couldn’t feel the intensity of it. 
You tried to hide the grin threatening to break out on your lips as you snuggled closer to his chest. This was definitely a first for you guys. Though you and Draco had been quite flirty, he’d never been so open with his physical touch before. 
“Then she had the nerve to choose me as her partner. Like I would ever consider her!” Pansy glanced over at you and did a double take when she saw you wrapped up in Draco. Her eyes grew slightly, but she averted them with a clear of her throat as to not make it obvious. 
“And then, she had the audacity-“
“She really is quite obsessed with this hufflepuff, huh?” Draco whispered to you, quiet enough for Pansy not to hear. 
You looked up at him. His face was so close to yours, your noses were practically touching. You bit your lip as a smile threatened your face. 
“Yeah,” you whispered back as you stared into his eyes. “Leave her be though, it keeps her entertained.”
Draco chucked, his minty breath hitting your face due to your close proximity. Your own breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how close you were to him. You could feel your stomach doing cartwheels as you took in all of his glorious features up close. The glimmer in his eyes, the point of his nose, the curve of his lips. 
“I didn’t see you earlier,” Draco shifted the conversation, pulling your gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “What were you doing all day, busy bee?”
You blushed at the nickname. “I was just in the library writing up essays and study guides for our finals.” You let out a yawn, the reminder of your morning making you realize just how exhausted you were. 
“Sleepy?” Draco murmured in your ear.
You nodded your head with a mumbled ‘yes’, then rested your head on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm tight around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. With his other hand, he softly combed his fingers through your hair.
You hummed as you closed your eyes. “You’re comfy,” you sleepily mumbled. 
Draco chuckled. His fingers brushed against your cheeks every once in a while as he gently continued combing through your hair. 
As you felt yourself falling asleep, you could hear Draco shushing Pansy and Blaise to ensure they didn't wake you. 
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning you wake in your bed, unsure of how you got there. You must have gone up sometime in the night and just not remembered. 
With a shrug, you stood up and stretched your arms over your head. Pansy was snoring in the bed next to you. You tiptoed over to her and gently shook her awake. 
“Pansy,” you called as you shook her some more. “Come on, babe, time to wake up.” 
She just grumbled and swatted your hand from her shoulder. You huffed. Pansy was terrible in the mornings, and for some reason unknown to you, she didn’t believe in alarm clocks so you got stuck waking her up every morning. 
A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk you jumped on top of her sleeping body. 
“Ahh!” She shouted as you frantically shook her awake.
“It’s wake up time, Pans! We’ve got to get ready for our charms exam this fine, beautiful morning.” You said with a laugh. 
Pansy sat up and pushed you off of her so you laid on the bed instead. “Geez,” she grinned as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. “Who knew a night with Draco would make you so chipper this morning.”
You sat upright in crisscross as your smile fell. “Wait, what?”
You had spent the night with Draco? But that didn’t make sense, you woke up by yourself in your own bed. Plus, you would have remembered if something had happened between the two of you. 
Pansy saw your confused expression and chuckled. She grabbed a pillow and gently swatted you in the face with it. “Not like that, you silly. Salazar knows if you slept with Draco you’d have probably died of happiness.”
“Hey!” You whined as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. “I’m not that crazy for him.” 
“Oh, please,” Pansy scoffed with a slight smile. “I saw the way you cuddled up with him last night. I almost had a heart attack for you when I saw how close you were! Go (Y/N), go (Y/N)!” She cheered. 
You laughed and pushed Pansy away from you. “Shut up!” Your giggles died down as you recalled how you laid with him last night. “Was it really that obvious?”
“Girl please! I thought Draco was gonna scoop you up and run away with you. You should have seen the look on his face when you fell asleep on him. He looked at you like you hung the damn stars in the sky.”
Your heart fluttered. You knew there was something going on with you and Draco, but by the way Pansy was talking, though she had a knack for exaggeration, it sounded like he really did have a thing for you. 
“So, what do I do now?” You asked as you slightly rocked back and forth on her bed. 
“Are you joking?” Pansy deadpanned at you. “(Y/N/N), you gotta go get your man! I’m tired of watching you two drool like little puppies over each other just for nothing to come out of it.” 
Your cheeks flushed. It had been a long time of this back and forth with Draco, and you decided you were ready to see where it got you. 
“Okay, I’m gonna tell him next time I see him.” You said. 
Pansy cheered. “Yes, finally! Now hurry up, I’ll help you pick a cute outfit that has ‘date me’ written all over it.” 
You chuckled as Pansy eagerly jumped up and ran to your closet. She grabbed your shortest skirt, a white button up top, and your Slytherin robes. 
“Pans, how is this any different than my usual outfit?” You asked as you stood from the bed and joined her near the closet. 
“Ah, my sweet (Y/N), it’s not about the clothes you wear, but how you wear them.” She grinned as she threw the clothes into your hands. “Put them on so I can work my magic.”
You chuckled and stripped out of your pajamas to put on your school outfit. Turning back to Pansy, you said, “Okay, now what?” 
She devilishly grinned. Pansy pulled your skirt even higher up your legs to expose just a bit more of the skin there. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt and fixed your boobs so they popped out a little bit more. She wrapped the robe around your shoulders, but let the front open so you could see everything underneath. 
“And no tie,” she added, “that way your shirt can stay that way.”
You chuckled. “You get me into all these crazy shenanigans, you know that right?” 
“You know you love me.”
“Yeah,” you added wearily, “but what if it’s too much? I mean, we still have to go to class. It’s not like I'm only going to see Draco.”
“Who cares?” Pansy asked as she started to dress herself in a similar manner. “Let the other boys stare and show Draco that you’re a hottie who other boys can get at if he decides he’s gonna be a wuss today.”
You laughed. Pansy always knew just how to make you feel better. “Alright, let’s get out there, then. Don’t wanna keep all the boys waiting.” You winked at her. 
Pansy smirked and wrapped her arm with yours. You walked out together and down to your first class that you shared. 
Luckily for you, Draco did not share the same period for charms as you. You thought if Draco was in the class you would have surely failed your final. 
You felt pretty confident in your answers, and soon enough class was dismissed. 
Your heart beat out of your chest as you said your goodbyes to Pansy and walked to your next class: one you shared with Draco. 
Nervously, you picked at your clothes as you walked to potions. On your way there, you couldn’t help but notice all of the random students staring at you. Boys, and girls, sneaked peaks at you as you walked past them. 
It felt nice to be noticed, you just hoped Draco would react in a similar way. 
Speak of the devil.
There Draco stood in all his glory. He leaned against the wall outside of the potions room looking you up and down. Draco’s lip was trapped between his teeth and he sized you up. 
“Bloody hell, (Y/N).” Draco mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear over your rapidly-beating heart. 
Draco pushed himself off the wall and started walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He didn’t say anything. All he could do was stare. Draco knew you were gorgeous; he’d be a bloody fool to not have noticed it before, but there was something about the way you looked that made his head spin. 
While he shouldn’t say it, Draco had always imagined how you would look after he’d had his way with you. He didn’t ever want to seem like a creep, you were too sweet for that, but that just made him more curious. 
In all honesty, he didn’t know you had this in you. 
“Uh, Draco?” You asked. Draco had zoned out as he stared at you. You could feel your cheeks getting warm and you took in how awestruck he looked. 
“Hm?” He glanced back up into your eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart, you just- you just look incredible. Well, you look gorgeous everyday, just you look gorgeous and sexy if that makes sense.” 
You raised an eyebrow almost teasingly. “Oh, so you think I look sexy now, huh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you liked the way Draco’s eyes widened as you crossed your arms over your chest, pushing your boobs out ever so slightly.
Once he recovered, a smirk adorned his handsome face. “I always think you look sexy, now I'm just seeing it in person rather than my dreams. And speaking of dreams,” Draco grinned devilishly, “how did you sleep last night, darling?” 
You had almost forgotten about the confusion of the night. “I slept well. I think.” You chuckled as you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t exactly remember getting to bed, though. Care to enlighten me?” 
Draco chuckled, “You fell asleep, quite adorably I might add, and I as the gentleman I am had the privilege of carrying you up the stairs and tucking you in for the night.” 
You smiled, “how come you didn’t just wake me?”
Draco’s cheeks tinged pink. “I, uh, I just knew how tired you were from your morning and I didn’t want to disturb you. Hope that was okay.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. 
You grinned and reached up to squeeze his arm. “It was really sweet of you, Draco.” 
The two of you stared at each other for a minute, the silence held some tension, it had some longing imbedded into it. 
“Draco…” 
“Do you want to go out sometime?” Draco cut you off. 
You gaped at him. “Like a date?”
Draco smiled, “yeah, exactly a date. I knew I’ve liked you for a little while, (Y/N), but when you cuddled up against me last night, I had this thought that I wanted to do it again. And then again after that too. You held onto like you needed me, and, uh, I really liked that.”
Draco blushed a little at his confession and shuffled his feet around nervously. 
You couldn’t help but grin and wrap your arms tight around his neck. Draco was a little taken aback by your quick movement, but surely sunk into your hug and wrapped his arms around your waist. 
“I’d love to go out with you, Dray,” you whispered as you were pressed so close to him. “I’ve been hoping you would ask me out for a long time.”
Draco pulled away, but still held his hands on your waist. “Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, darling.”
You giggled and grabbed Draco’s hands to pull him towards the classroom. “Come on, Slughorn doesn’t wait for anyone and I need to do good on this exam.”
Draco chuckled and let you pull him along to class. He couldn’t wait to finally take you out on a date. 
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