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pucksandpower · 2 months ago

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Perfect Fit

Day 5 → Size Difference 💋 Oscar Piastri

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

“You sure she doesn’t snap in half when you’re together?” Lando’s voice rings out over the steady hum of the paddock, casual, like he’s asking about the weather.

Oscar’s head jerks up, his eyebrows knitting together. “What?”

“You know …” Lando gestures vaguely with his hand, as if the meaning will somehow fill the air between them. “You and her. She’s, like, tiny. Can’t imagine it’s easy for you.”

Oscar frowns, confused for a second before the meaning of Lando’s words sinks in. Lando is grinning like he’s delivered the world’s best punchline, but something twists in Oscar’s chest. The words linger. Too long.

“Mate, seriously?” Oscar scoffs, trying to laugh it off, but there’s an odd tension in his voice. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

Lando shrugs, all casual, like he hasn’t just dropped a grenade between them. “Just making conversation. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Oscar doesn’t respond, choosing instead to shove Lando lightly in the shoulder, pushing past him. His heart beats a little too fast, and he finds himself suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of Lando’s comment.

He tries to shake it off, but the thought is like an itch at the back of his mind, one he can’t quite reach to scratch. Size. How could he have never noticed it before? Of course, he knew you were smaller — he had to lean down to kiss you, had to watch his step to not bowl you over in tight spaces. But he’d never really thought about it. Not like that.

Now, though … now he can’t seem to stop thinking about it.

Later that evening, he’s at your apartment. You’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, flipping through some magazine, while he stands in the kitchen, mindlessly sipping from a water bottle. His eyes keep drifting over to you, studying the way you’re curled up. Small, Lando’s words repeat in his head. So much smaller.

You glance up and catch him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, too quickly. You squint, unconvinced.

“Oscar,” you say, drawing out his name like you’re prying for a confession. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he repeats, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him.

You set the magazine down, leaning back against the cushions. “You’re staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.”

Oscar clears his throat, still not moving from his spot by the counter. “It’s not — I mean, Lando said something stupid earlier.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lando always says stupid things.”

He chuckles, but the sound is half-hearted. “Yeah, but this was, like, extra stupid.”

“What’d he say?”

Oscar hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s dumb, really.”

“Now you have to tell me,” you say, tilting your head, that teasing smile starting to curl at your lips. You always get that look when you know he’s holding something back, and he knows you won’t let it go until he spills.

He sighs, finally pushing away from the counter and walking over to sit beside you on the couch. “It’s just … he made some joke about, uh … about our size difference.”

Your brows furrow. “What about it?”

Oscar pauses, trying to find the right words. “He basically said … I don’t know. That it must be … hard. You know, because you’re, uh, smaller than me.”

Your lips press together, a faint blush creeping up your neck as the meaning hits. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Oscar lets out a breath, rubbing his palms over his jeans. “I didn’t think much of it at first, but now I can’t stop … noticing it.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, the kind that feels heavier than usual.

You swallow, shifting a little on the couch to face him. “Is it weird for you?” You ask quietly. “Our size difference?”

Oscar’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “No — no, it’s not weird. It’s not like that. I’ve just … I never really thought about it before. And now it’s in my head.”

“So it’s in your head that I’m small?” You ask, a teasing edge to your voice, though there’s a hint of nervousness underneath it.

He laughs softly. “It’s not just that you’re small. It’s … everything. Like, I never thought about how I have to be careful with you. When I hold you, or when we’re … close.”

You tilt your head, curious. “You don’t think about it when we’re close?”

“I mean, I think about it,” he admits, his voice dropping. “But not in a bad way. I just-” He falters, searching for the right words. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his honesty, the vulnerability that’s starting to seep through the cracks. You reach out, placing a hand on his knee. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Oscar.”

“I know that,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But I guess … sometimes I just worry that I might. Without meaning to.”

The air feels thick between you, charged with something unsaid. You chew on your bottom lip, considering his words, the way he’s looking at you now — like he’s seeing you in a new light, or maybe just realizing something that’s been there all along.

“I don’t mind that we’re different sizes,” you say quietly, and your voice is sincere, even if there’s an underlying nervousness. “I actually … I like it.”

Oscar’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, your hand still resting on his knee. “I like that you’re taller, and that you can hold me, and that I feel … safe with you.”

Something shifts in Oscar’s expression. It’s subtle, but you see the way his shoulders relax, the tension that’s been building all evening starting to fade away. He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel safe with me?”

“Of course I do,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper now. “You’re … I don’t know. You’re so careful with me. I can feel it when we’re together.”

Oscar’s hand lingers by your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “I just … I don’t want to screw this up,” he admits, his voice raw. “I care about you too much to mess this up.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat. “You’re not messing anything up, Oscar. You’re being … you.”

He leans in closer, his forehead almost resting against yours. “I don’t want to be weird about this,” he says softly. “But after Lando’s stupid comment, it’s like … it’s stuck in my head. And now I’m overthinking everything.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re overthinking it because Lando’s an idiot.”

Oscar laughs too, the sound breaking the tension a little. “Yeah, he really is.”

You shift a little closer to him, your knees brushing against his. “You don’t need to worry about our size difference,” you say gently. “I don’t.”

He nods, though there’s still a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “It’s just … I’ve never been with someone who’s, like … so much smaller than me. I don’t want to … I don’t know, hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “I trust you, Oscar. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.”

Oscar’s eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to find some reassurance in your words, something to silence the doubts that Lando’s careless joke planted in his mind. Slowly, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away — the worries, the overthinking, the stupid comments.

It’s just the two of you, and in that kiss, there’s no size difference, no hesitation. Just you and him, connected in a way that feels effortless.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath, warm and steady. “You’re sure?” He whispers, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You smile, your hand finding his. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Oscar lets out a breath, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

The tension between you melts away, replaced by a quiet understanding, a mutual trust that wasn’t spoken but was felt in every word, every touch. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer, as if to prove to himself that he can hold you without worry.

And for the first time since Lando’s stupid joke, Oscar doesn’t think about the size difference. He just thinks about you, and how perfectly you fit in his arms.

***

As you and Oscar walk through the doors of your hotel suite, the adrenaline from the day still buzzes between you both. The aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix win feels almost surreal, hanging in the air between his excited glances and your proud smiles.

Oscar drops his race gear bag on the floor, exhaling loudly as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “God, I still can’t believe it. I actually won.”

You grin, closing the door behind you. “I told you, didn’t I? You’ve been ready for this. You’ve always been ready.”

He turns toward you, his face lighting up in a way that makes your heart skip. He looks different tonight — his usual quiet confidence magnified by the thrill of victory. There’s a hunger in his gaze, something deeper than just excitement for the race.

“It feels … different now,” he admits, stepping closer. “Like, I knew I could win, but doing it? Crossing that line first? Hearing the crowd?” He trails off, his eyes locking on yours, and for a moment, everything else in the world disappears.

You step closer, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “You were incredible out there.”

Oscar’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. His voice drops lower, more intimate. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. After the race, I just wanted to get back here. With you.”

You bite your lip, the tension between you sparking to life. There’s something in the air tonight, something that feels inevitable. The closeness, the energy — it’s all leading somewhere.

Oscar’s lips hover just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I need you,” he whispers, the rawness of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Your response is immediate, instinctual. “Then take me.”

His mouth crashes against yours, urgent and heated, and suddenly, all the restraint he’s ever shown around you evaporates. His hands are everywhere — on your waist, in your hair, pulling you closer as if he can’t stand the space between you. You’re breathless as he backs you up toward the bed, his kisses growing more fervent, more desperate.

When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Oscar pulls away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something deeper than you’ve seen before. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice thick with both desire and hesitation. “I don’t want to rush this.”

You’re already reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The sight of his bare chest, muscles taut and glistening under the dim hotel lights, makes your stomach flip. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but tonight it feels different. He’s yours tonight.

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing over your hips, lifting your shirt just enough to slide his hands underneath.

You shiver at the contact, leaning into him as he slowly works your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His hands linger on your skin, tracing patterns that leave your skin tingling.

As his fingers move to unbutton your jeans, Oscar hesitates for a second. “I don’t want to … hurt you,” he says softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

You shake your head, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. “You won’t. I trust you.”

That seems to be all the encouragement he needs. Oscar quickly strips you of your jeans, his hands trailing up and down your thighs, his gaze fixed on you like you’re the most important thing in the world. And then, for a moment, he pauses.

His eyes drop lower, and when he sees you in nothing but your underwear, something primal flashes across his face. You can see the shift in him — the boyish uncertainty replaced by something darker, more insistent.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself. His hands tremble slightly as he runs them over your hips, then slowly slides your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare, exposed for him, seems to steal his breath.

You reach out, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his jeans. “Your turn,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Oscar quickly complies, undoing his belt and pushing his jeans down. But when he finally kicks them off, and his boxers follow, you feel your breath catch in your throat. He’s … big. Much bigger than you expected. The sight of him has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement flooding through you.

His size suddenly makes Lando’s stupid joke replay in your head, but instead of fear, you feel a strange sense of anticipation building inside you. The sight of him, hard and ready, only makes you want him more.

But Oscar hesitates, his eyes darting between you and himself, concern flickering in his expression. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, his voice more serious now. “You’re so … small.”

Your lips part, a flush creeping up your neck. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure, but the truth slips out before you can stop it. “I can take it,” you whisper, your voice shaking with need. “I want it.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he seems at a loss for words. His hands shake slightly as they slide up your thighs, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs. He takes his time, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours as he eases a finger inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing for a moment before you relax into his touch. “Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. “I’m okay,” you manage to say, your voice breathless. “Please, Oscar. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He adds another finger, his movements slow and steady as he works you open, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe beneath him. Your body arches off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets as you try to hold on to the edge of your sanity.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his brows furrowing in concentration. “I need to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you breathe, though your voice is shaky with both nerves and desire.

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he continues to stretch you with his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats, his voice a mix of concern and restraint.

You bite your lip, your body trembling with anticipation. “I know. But I want you, Oscar. I want all of you.”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he pauses, as if weighing the gravity of what’s about to happen. But then he nods, his eyes locking on yours as he finally positions himself between your legs. His hands grip your hips, his touch firm but gentle.

“Are you sure?” He asks one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”

Oscar takes a deep breath, and then, slowly — agonizingly slowly — he begins to push inside you. The stretch is immediate, and your body tenses as you feel the overwhelming pressure of him filling you. It’s more than you expected — more than you’ve ever felt before. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, and for a moment, you wonder if it’s too much.

Oscar freezes, his eyes wide with concern. “Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head quickly, though your breath is shaky. “It’s just … a lot. But I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He bites his lip, clearly unsure, but he keeps going, inch by inch, until he’s fully inside you. The sensation is intense — painful at first, but as your body adjusts, the pain quickly morphs into something else. Something deeper. Something euphoric.

Oscar is still, hovering above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself in check. “God, you’re … you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice strained. “I can feel … I can see it …”

You look down, and your breath catches in your throat. You can see the outline of him, pressing against your lower stomach, and the sight is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Oscar’s eyes are glued to the sight as well, his hands gripping your hips tighter. “Holy … I can see myself inside you,” he breathes, his voice thick with awe. “I’m not hurting you?”

You shake your head, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief. “No. It feels … it feels incredible.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes darkening as he slowly pulls back, only to push into you again, the movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, but growing more urgent as the pleasure builds between you.

Oscar’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes never leaving the sight of himself inside you. “You’re so … perfect,” he groans, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His movements grow more desperate, the tension between you building to an almost unbearable intensity. Your body is on fire, every nerve alight as he fills you completely. You can feel him so deep, every inch of him stretching you in ways you’ve never experienced before.

And then, just as the pressure becomes too much, you tip over the edge.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing around him, muscles tightening and pulsing in rhythmic waves. The pleasure is blinding, sharp, your breath hitching as you cry out his name. You’ve never felt anything like it, the intensity of the release leaving you shaking beneath him, your legs trembling as you clutch at his shoulders.

The sudden tightening of your body around him pulls a deep groan from Oscar’s throat, and you feel him lose control. His thrusts falter, becoming erratic as he buries himself inside you one last time. His jaw clenches, his eyes squeezed shut as his own orgasm rips through him. His release is overwhelming — hot and thick, spilling into you with an intensity that leaves you both breathless.

Oscar collapses against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he gasps for air. You can feel him still twitching inside you, the last remnants of his orgasm making him shudder against your body. He’s still buried deep, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you so completely it almost feels unreal.

You’re both silent for a moment, just breathing together, the weight of what just happened settling between you. Then, slowly, Oscar lifts his head, his eyes hazy and dazed as he looks down at you.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, his voice rough, concern flickering in his eyes even as he struggles to catch his breath.

You nod, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “I’m more than okay.”

His gaze softens, and his hand moves down to your stomach, where you can feel an odd fullness, a strange weight that wasn’t there before. His palm rests over your belly, and when you both look down, you see it — the way your stomach has a slight bulge, rounded out from how much he’s filled you.

Oscar’s eyes widen, his hand pressing down gently as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I … did I do that?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You bite your lip, heat flooding your cheeks as you nod. “I think so.”

A low groan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of your swollen belly. “Jesus … that’s … fuck, that’s so hot,” he mutters, almost to himself, his hand rubbing slow, gentle circles over the small bump.

His obsession with it sends a new wave of heat through you. The feeling of being so full, so utterly claimed by him, is intoxicating. You reach down, covering his hand with yours, pressing it harder against your belly. “You like it?” You ask, teasingly, though you already know the answer.

Oscar’s eyes flash up to yours, dark and filled with something primal. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t … I can’t stop looking at it.”

He keeps rubbing your belly, his fingers tracing over the slight rise, his gaze fixed on the way your body holds all of him. You shiver beneath his touch, the sensation of his hand against your skin sending jolts of pleasure through you. You can feel him starting to soften inside you, but there’s still a delicious fullness that leaves you squirming, your body craving more despite how completely wrecked you feel.

Oscar seems to notice, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand trails lower, his fingers brushing against your sensitive clit. You gasp, your body jerking in response, and he smiles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“You’re still sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your bundle of nerves with gentle pressure. “I can feel it.”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continues to tease you, his movements slow and deliberate. “Oscar …” you breathe, your voice trembling. “I don’t think I can …”

But you can. The tension in your body builds again so quickly, it’s almost dizzying. His touch is relentless, his thumb rubbing slow, firm circles that drive you insane. The combination of the fullness in your belly and the stimulation at your core is overwhelming, your body teetering on the edge of another orgasm before you can even process it.

“I can feel how tight you still are,” Oscar whispers, his voice husky as he watches you squirm beneath him. “God, you’re so perfect.”

His words, his touch, the sight of him above you — it’s all too much. Your body arches off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips as you fall over the edge again, your second orgasm hitting you harder than the first. The pleasure is intense, bordering on painful as your muscles contract around him, your body shaking with the force of it.

Oscar groans, his hand still rubbing slow circles over your belly as he watches you come undone beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You gasp for air, your body trembling as the waves of pleasure slowly subside, leaving you feeling utterly spent. Oscar finally stops his teasing, his hand still resting on your belly as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, his voice gentle, almost tender.

You nod, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “Yeah … more than okay.”

He chuckles softly, shifting his weight to lie beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. His hand remains on your belly, though, still fascinated by the slight swell he’s caused.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.

You turn to face him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “I’m the lucky one,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection for him.

For a while, you both just lie there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of what just happened settling in. There’s no rush, no urgency — just the quiet intimacy of being together after something so intense.

Oscar’s hand continues to rub slow, soothing circles over your belly, and you feel yourself slowly drifting toward sleep, your body completely relaxed and satisfied. Just before you drift off, you hear Oscar’s soft voice in your ear, filled with quiet wonder.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how perfectly you fit me.”

And in that moment, you know that nothing has ever felt more right.

***

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting soft rays of sunlight across the hotel room. You stir in the bed, blinking your eyes open, the haze of sleep still thick in your mind. As you stretch, your entire body reminds you of the events from the night before. Every muscle feels heavy, a delicious soreness radiating from deep within you. You smile to yourself, the memory of Oscar’s hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Your bladder protests, urging you out of bed, but as soon as you shift to swing your legs over the side of the bed, a sharp jolt of soreness runs up your thighs. You pause, blinking in confusion, then try again — more gingerly this time. Your legs are stiff, the muscles weak and uncooperative as you push yourself to stand.

You barely make it two steps before your legs give out beneath you.

The floor rushes up to meet you, and with a soft thud, you crumple into a heap on the carpet. A surprised gasp escapes your lips, and before you can process what’s happened, Oscar is jolting awake beside you.

“Shit — what was that?” He mumbles groggily, but the second he sees you on the floor, his eyes go wide, panic flashing across his face. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

He’s out of bed in an instant, rushing to your side, his hands gripping your shoulders as he kneels next to you. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

You can’t help but laugh softly, though your body feels like it’s been through a marathon. “I’m fine, I just …” You bite your lip, wincing as you try to shift. “I guess my legs don’t really work right now.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in concern, and he gently lifts you, pulling you into his arms and carrying you back to the bed like you weigh nothing. “What do you mean your legs don’t work?” His voice is tight, laced with worry, and he lays you down carefully, as if he’s afraid you’ll break.

You groan softly as you sink back into the mattress, your legs still trembling from the effort. “I’m just … really sore. Like, everywhere.”

Oscar’s face pales, and you can see the guilt washing over him in an instant. “Oh my God, I hurt you, didn’t I?” His voice is barely a whisper, his hands hovering over you as if he’s afraid to touch you again. “I knew I was too rough. I knew I was too big. I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey, no,” you interrupt, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “It’s not like that. I’m just sore from … you know.” You feel a flush creeping up your neck, but you manage a small smile. “It’s a good kind of sore.”

Oscar shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “No, no, this isn’t okay. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I should’ve been more careful.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it’s strained as you shift slightly in bed. “Oscar, I’m fine. Really. I feel amazing, actually. This is just … the aftermath.” You wiggle your toes experimentally, and while the soreness is still there, it’s more of a reminder of the pleasure you felt last night than actual pain.

Oscar isn’t convinced. He sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “You couldn’t even walk this morning because of me,” he mutters, his voice low and filled with guilt. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your heart ache, and you sit up slowly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Oscar, you didn’t hurt me,” you say softly. “You made me feel incredible. Yes, I’m sore, but it’s because of how good it was. Not because you did anything wrong.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I mean, you literally fell out of bed.”

You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “Yeah, well … maybe that’s just proof of how well you did.”

A flicker of amusement crosses his face, but the worry still lingers. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

You shake your head, your hand moving to rest on his thigh. “No. I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve never felt like that before, Oscar. You didn’t hurt me — you made me feel alive.”

His expression softens at your words, but you can still see the guilt etched in the lines of his face. He exhales slowly, his hand covering yours on his thigh. “I just … I don’t want to ever do something that makes you feel like you can’t even move the next day.”

“Well,” you say, biting your lip playfully, “if it’s the kind of thing that leaves me this sore, I think I could get used to it.” You wink at him, trying to lighten the mood, but Oscar’s eyes widen, and he groans.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

You laugh softly, wincing at the tightness in your hips as you shift again. “I mean, there are worse ways to be sore. Besides, this is kind of your fault. You can make it up to me.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in confusion. “How?”

You give him a mischievous look. “By doing it all over again and making sure I can never walk properly again.”

He blinks at you, momentarily stunned. “You’re joking, right?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I — but … you’re already sore.”

You lean back against the pillows, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. “Exactly. So you might as well make it count.”

For a second, he’s speechless. Then, his lips twitch, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re serious?”

You nod, biting your lip to hide your grin. “Very.”

He laughs, the sound low and warm, and you can see the tension start to melt away from his shoulders. “You’re unbelievable.”

You shrug, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a high pain tolerance. Besides, I think I deserve a little reward after surviving last night, don’t you?”

Oscar’s smile fades slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of affection and disbelief. “You’re really okay?”

You nod, your hand squeezing his thigh again. “More than okay, Oscar. I’m serious — I want you again. Even if it leaves me sore for a week.”

His expression softens, and he leans down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You grin up at him. “I try.”

Oscar’s hand trails down your side, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as if testing how much you can handle. “I don’t want to push you too hard,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your temple.

“You’re not pushing me,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want this.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods, his hand moving lower, tracing over your stomach and down between your legs. The touch is featherlight, testing, but even that small contact sends a shiver through your body.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Oscar says, his voice low and serious, but you can already feel the heat building between you again, and the soreness fades into the background of your mind, overwhelmed by the need rising in you.

“I will,” you breathe, already arching into his touch.

Oscar’s lips find yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more urgent as the tension between you sparks back to life. His hand slides lower, teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel yourself growing wet again, your body responding to him despite the lingering ache.

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours. “You really want to do this again?”

You nod, breathless. “I need you.”

That’s all it takes for Oscar to give in. He shifts above you, his body pressing against yours as he positions himself between your legs. The weight of him is comforting, familiar, and despite the soreness, you crave the feeling of him filling you again.

Oscar moves slowly, carefully, but the stretch is just as intense as last night. You gasp as he pushes inside, your body still adjusting to the sheer size of him, but it’s not painful this time — just overwhelming in the best way.

“Oh my God,” Oscar groans, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he pushes deeper. “You’re still so tight.”

You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he moves inside you, the pleasure building quickly despite the soreness in your muscles. The mix of discomfort and ecstasy is intoxicating, and soon, you’re lost in the rhythm of his thrusts, your mind blank except for the sensation of him filling you completely.

Oscar’s hands grip your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he finds his rhythm. You can tell he’s holding back, trying not to hurt you, but even with the restraint, the intensity of it all has you teetering on the edge again.

“You’re so perfect,” Oscar murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You shudder beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel yourself nearing the edge once again. “Don’t stop,” you gasp, your body arching into his as the pleasure coils tight inside you, threatening to snap.

Oscar groans in response, his pace picking up, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, until you're barely holding on. You can feel the intensity building between you, the friction, the connection driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tighter, his breath hot against your neck as he murmurs, “God, you feel so good. I could do this forever.”

The words send a thrill through you, and you grip him harder, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Oscar,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure inside you mounts, overwhelming, unstoppable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he drives into you again, deeper than before. “Come for me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire. “I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. His words send you spiraling, your body clenching around him as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. You cry out, your legs trembling, your hands gripping him as tight as you can, pulling him closer as your entire body shakes with the force of your release.

Oscar groans as your body tightens around him, his control slipping as he watches you fall apart beneath him. His rhythm falters, then he pushes deep one last time, his release hitting with a shudder as he spills inside you. His breath is ragged, his body trembling as he holds himself over you, the weight of his body grounding you as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse through you.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath. Oscar collapses against you, his head resting on your chest as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips as the warmth of his body soothes your soreness.

After a long silence, he finally speaks, his voice soft and a little shaky. “You … okay?”

You laugh softly, your body feeling like it’s been thoroughly worked over, but in the best way possible. “Yeah,” you whisper, brushing his hair back. “More than okay.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes filled with affection but also a hint of lingering concern. “I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”

He relaxes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

You hum in contentment, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all. “Just make sure I can walk by tomorrow, okay?”

Oscar chuckles, his hand trailing down to your hip as he pulls you close. “No promises.”

***

Oscar steps out of the car first, scanning the airstrip where McLaren’s private jet waits. His brow furrows slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. The morning sun is harsh, casting long shadows on the tarmac, but his focus is entirely on you. He turns back, opening the car door carefully, like he’s preparing for something delicate.

You wince as you try to swing your legs out of the car. The soreness from last night has reached a whole new level, and every movement feels like your muscles are made of lead. You’d tried standing when you first woke up, but it was a no-go. Now, as you attempt to shift out of the car, it’s confirmed: you really can’t walk.

Oscar leans down, his hands gently coming to rest on your hips. “Ready?” His voice is soft, a little sheepish, like he’s still not over the guilt from earlier.

“Do I have a choice?” You joke, though your body aches in a way that’s both painful and satisfying, a reminder of last night’s passion.

He gives you a small smile, his eyes soft as he reaches under your knees and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest as he straightens up.

“Okay, this is officially ridiculous,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder, half-embarrassed, half-amused.

Oscar chuckles, holding you close. “You’re the one who said you wanted to make sure you couldn’t walk properly again.”

You lift your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d take it so literally.”

He grins, but you can see the hint of worry still lingering in his eyes. “Too late now. Besides, I think I might enjoy this.”

“You enjoy having to carry me across an airstrip in front of your entire team?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light, though you know it’s about to get a lot more embarrassing once people start noticing.

Oscar shrugs, shifting you slightly in his arms as he starts walking toward the jet. “I enjoy taking care of you.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your earlier embarrassment fading. He’s so earnest, so gentle, even now, and it’s hard to feel anything but safe in his arms.

As you near the jet, you can already see the crew milling around, loading luggage and prepping for departure. And, of course, Lando is leaning casually against the stairs leading up to the plane, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as soon as he spots the two of you.

“Well, well, well,” Lando calls out, his voice full of teasing glee. “What do we have here? Oscar playing the hero?”

You groan softly, burying your face in Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please no,” you mutter under your breath.

Oscar doesn’t slow down as he approaches, though you can feel his body tense slightly. He’s protective, even if he’s trying to laugh it off. “Don’t start, Lando,” he warns, though there’s a playful edge to his voice.

But Lando’s never been one to back off, especially when there’s an opportunity to tease his teammate. He pushes off the stairs and stands directly in front of you two, hands on his hips. “What, did she trip or something? Or is this …” He pauses dramatically, raising an eyebrow. “Is this because of Sunday night?”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks immediately. You’ve had your fair share of teasing from Lando before, but this — this is next-level mortifying. Oscar adjusts his hold on you slightly, and you can feel the subtle tightening of his grip, like he’s shielding you from whatever’s coming.

“Lando,” Oscar says, his tone warning, but not harsh. “Seriously.”

But Lando’s not done. His eyes dart between you and Oscar, and his grin widens. “Wait — wait. Hold on. Is she not able to walk?”

You don’t say anything, but your silence must be enough because Lando’s grin fades, replaced by a look of genuine shock. “Oh my God. You’re actually serious.”

Oscar’s jaw tightens, and he shifts you in his arms again, turning slightly like he’s ready to move past Lando and end this conversation. But Lando steps closer, his playful demeanor slipping into something more serious as he realizes the situation is … real.

“Mate,” Lando says, his voice lower now, almost incredulous. “Did you … I mean, you didn’t-”

“No,” Oscar cuts him off quickly, his voice firm but not defensive. “I didn’t hurt her.”

You peek out from Oscar’s shoulder, meeting Lando’s wide-eyed gaze. “I’m fine,” you add, trying to inject some normalcy back into the situation. “It’s just … you know.”

Lando’s brows shoot up. “I really don’t know.”

You laugh softly despite yourself. “Well, I’m not hurt. Just … sore.”

Lando’s mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words, but for once, he’s speechless. He glances between you and Oscar, and then shakes his head, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“I mean, I’ve heard of being ‘swept off your feet,’ but this …” Lando trails off, his eyes flicking down to your legs, which you’re certain look completely useless at this point. “This is next level.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You done?”

Lando lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying — next time, maybe leave her able to walk? Just a suggestion.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please make him stop.”

Oscar chuckles, squeezing you gently. “Lando, I swear, if you don’t move, I’m going to drop her on you.”

Lando steps aside, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. But seriously,” he adds, glancing at you with a smirk. “You two should probably invest in some crutches.”

You shoot him a withering look, but there’s no malice behind it. “You’re not funny.”

“I disagree,” Lando grins. “I’m hilarious.”

Oscar shakes his head, moving past Lando and toward the stairs. As he climbs up, still carrying you effortlessly, you whisper, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Probably not.”

By the time he settles you down in one of the plush seats on the jet, the soreness in your legs has turned into a dull throb. You sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh, stretching out as much as you can without wincing. Oscar sits beside you, his hand immediately resting on your thigh, a silent check-in.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again, his brow still slightly furrowed.

“I promise,” you say, reaching for his hand. “I mean, yes, I probably won’t be running any marathons anytime soon, but it’s worth it.”

Oscar gives you a lopsided smile, but the concern doesn’t fully leave his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d actually-”

You cut him off, squeezing his hand. “Oscar, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I’m the one who asked for it.”

His cheeks flush slightly, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Still.”

You lean closer, brushing your lips against his. “It was perfect,” you murmur softly. “You’re perfect.”

He exhales, some of the tension finally leaving his body as he leans into your kiss. “If you say so.”

“I do,” you whisper against his lips, then lean back with a grin. “Now, how are you going to carry me once we land?”

Oscar laughs, a sound that’s light and warm. “I’ll figure it out.”

From across the aisle, Lando chimes in, “Just get a wheelchair. Might be worth the investment if this is going to be a common occurrence.”

You throw a pillow at him. “Shut up, Lando.”

But deep down, despite the teasing and the soreness, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

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katsukistofu · 3 months ago

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contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. ⭑ no feeling self-conscious on his watch.

Katsuki scowls from above you from where your head rests on his lap when he sees your fingers pinch at the screen of your phone again. “Stop doing that.”

You blink at him in confusion with your finger hovering in midair. “Doing… what?”

“You think I’m stupid?” He lets out a scoff, not unkindly. “I see you. Zooming in and out of your pictures.”

Damn. He really saw that? You swear you put the brightness all the way down too. “I’m not.”

You shiver as the feeling of familiar, soft lips softly brush against your ear.

“Don’t lie to me.”

He snatches your phone out of your hands and you let out a little whine of protest, to which he silences with a pinch of your cheek between his fingers. And pinching hard.

“Ow, ow, ow—what the hell Suki!” You pout. “That hurts.”

“Good.” Your disgruntled boyfriend grumbles, using his thumb to hold down a button, and you spot the familiar symbol on the screen signaling that your phone is about to power off. “Now you know how I feel like watching you. You look fine.”

“Just fine?” You tease with a cheeky smile.

“You know what I mean.”

“I think I need a little more elaboration.”

“Stupid.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “You always look fucking perfect, okay?”

“I do?”

“You do. So I better not see you doing that shit again.” His firm thigh shifts from beneath your head and he makes sure its supported by sliding the cushion his back was resting on under it before he starts getting up, snorting at your cute pout at the sudden loss of your favorite pillow.

"Where are you goinggg?"

"To the konbini, dumbass. Yesterday you said your snacks were running out.” Katsuki tugs you to stand with him and you flail a bit, kicking your legs.

"Wha— Katsuki wait! I can't go out looking like this."

Katsuki observes you for a moment, and when you shyly meet his eyes his gaze softens. You look flawless to him, messy hair, eyebags and all.

But he knows you value your appearance. Doesn’t think vain or silly to want to look like the best version of yourself.

Whatever makes you happy works for him, and he’s happy too.

"Fine. You've got ten minutes."

The fierce blush on Katsuki’s face rivals the color of his eyes as you plant a big kiss on his cheek.

#been busy but here r some blurbs :3 #mha x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x you #mha oneshot #bnha x reader #mha fluff

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nanamiscocksleeve · 2 months ago

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Paintbrush Lesson

Warnings: clitoral stimulation with an object, MDNI I needed to write something after that adorable Rafayel painting card came out.

You moan softly, gripping the sofa cushions as your legs dangle apart, feeling breathless at the onslaught of sensation running through your sensitized body. Of course you had were teasing when you painted those little lines of color on Rafayel's cheeks, enjoying the way his face smarted from the mischevious action.

But oh, he had other plans for revenge, so sinfully sweet, and you feel it between your legs as he strokes your clit with the very edge of a fine, clean, paintbrush, the soft bristles tickling your spread folds and pulsating clit.

You let out a whine of pleasure as he drags it down, watching the sheen of moisture grow on your sex as he dips it into your core, gathering the slick and brushing it upwards onto your swollen bud.

"Silly girl...you really thought I wouldn't get back at you for this?" He taunts you, but there's a hint of affection in his words. You blush and avert your eyes, embarrassed at the sight of your panties swinging off your ankle and his lavender eyes growing into a darker shade of amethyst as he builds up your arousal. His strokes are consistent and tender, almost like he was painting his desire into your flesh, eager to bring forth that dizzying, prismatic, explosion of pleasure from your body.

"Rafayel..." you pant his name as you throw your head back, feeling the heated knot in your stomach tightening, ready to loosen and give in to the relentless stimulation being supplied to it.

"That's it my little painter...give into the experience of this artist..." he whispers devilishly, peering at you, knowing how much you get off by him watching you.

You whimper as the brush tip focuses on the very edge of your clit, the moist movements offering no resistance and with a punch of heat, feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hot waves of gratification spreading through your being. You feel Rafayel watching your spread pussy intently, seeing every naked spasm and convulsion, before leaning forward and pressing a calming kiss to your heated clit, making you sigh.

"I hope you come to more of my painting lessons from now on."

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #lads #lads smut #l&ds #l&ds smut #love and deepspace rafayel #l&ds rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #ncs #ncs scribbles #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader smut

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raven-dor · 3 months ago

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me and my husband

In which gwayne hightower is overprotective of his pregnant wife, and she begins to worry about the outcome of the birth

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader

WARNINGS: angst, anxiety, rough pregnancy, mentions of blood, arguing, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

AN: I read "chose me" by @entitled-fangirl and had to write something similar for gwayne!! this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!

She watched from the dark hall, her heart fluttering as he leaned back, exposing his neck and upper chest. Pregnancy awoke a dangerous animal inside her, one that needed her husband near her at all times.

Instead, he sat in his office.

She could not blame him; it was hard work, taking care of Old Town in place of his uncle’s absence. Seeing as his cousin had died recently, Gwayne would stand to inherit the Hightower title, and he all but jumped at the chance to begin his training.

But as of late, it seemed as if she needed him more than he needed her. Mere thoughts seemed to drown out her happiness, every attempt to block them futile. The larger she grew, the closer she got to the inevitable. She cleared her throat, making herself known to her husband.

“Gwayne?” He looked up, smiling brightly.

“My love! You should be in bed.” He stood up, ushering her over to a cushion. She glared, letting him coddle her for now.

“I am not inept.”

“I know, darling.” He knelt in front of her, kissing her hand gently. “But you also know that I cannot help but worry for you.” He caressed her stomach, whispering. “And how is our little one?”

“You have no need to worry, I assure you. The Maesters say the babe is perfectly healthy; there is no cause for concern.”

“And you?” He kissed her hand once more. “How do you fare?”

She was taken aback by that question, avoiding the question. “Do not worry about me.”

“That is my job as your husband.” He walked back to his desk, putting out the flickering candle. “And Maesters are not always correct.”

“That is a rather skeptical view.” She grabbed the handles of the chair, pushing herself up. Gwayne glared.

“Please ask for my aid next time you plan on standing.”

“Shall I ask you to help me relieve myself as well?” She glared back. “I love you; you know that I do. But I am not a frail piece of straw. I will not break from a gust of wind.”

“You are carrying the future heir to the Hightower name, my dear.”

Terms like that make her uneasy. That is all she heard all day. ‘Future heir,’ ‘Hightower name,’ ‘a boy.’ All phrases she had heard over a hundred times. She just wanted a moment of peace where she was not reminded how little she mattered in this situation. A tight smile graced her lips, and she lost all humor in her tone. “As I am constantly reminded.”

He grabbed her hand, walking slowly out of the office. “All I ask is that you take care. If not for me, then for the sake of our child.”

“I am careful.” She glared. “You know this. It’s not as if I go looking for things to hurt the babe. Do not treat me like a child to be watched over.”

He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “I do not mean to upset you-”

“Well, you have.” She scoffed. “You have somehow managed to insult my care for your future line and my child in one blow. It is astonishing, truly. I applaud you.”

“You know that was not my intention.” He shut their bedroom door, removing his shirt. Y/N tried to keep herself from blushing at the sight, but when he looked like that, it was hard to do. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his. “I am sorry.”

She hummed, walking away and sitting in front of her vanity. “Yes, well, I suppose I forgive you.”

He grinned. “I am glad of it.”

The woods were peaceful, a nice retreat from the bustling of Old Town. Her velvet green dress dragging behind her. She hummed, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the trees swaying. There was a lake nearby that she desperately wanted to swim in, and stare up into the sky of blue. Pushing the tall grass out of her way, the clearing stretched out before her, the lake at the center. She grinned, running down the hill with a newfound joy.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Her smile fell, remembering the whole reason she had even been ‘allowed’ to go on this excursion. He’d only let her go if he came along. She sighed, turning around and walking back up the hill. “Coming, my love.”

The auburn-haired man smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Where did you run off to?”

“The clearing.” She traced shapes on his chest. “I was thinking, perhaps you could join me for a swim. It is a perfect day for it.”

“I-”

“My lord.” Their guard’s voice echoed through the forest. Y/N groaned, falling against her husband’s chest. Gwayne kissed the top of her head, smiling sympathetically. “Another time, I swear to you.” She sighed, nodding. A finger hooked under her chin, his eyes serious. “You look far too melancholy, my love.”

“Well, perhaps if-”

“My lord, I’m sorry, but it is most urgent.”

Gwayne sighed, intertwining his hand with hers. “What is it?”

The Maester’s Wing was dim, with just a few candles keeping light. Gwayne had been summoned to settle a squabble between the townfolk, leaving Y/N to visit the old man herself. She tapped her foot, waiting for the Maester to ask her the questions she dreaded. But those questions never came.

“My lady.”

Y/N smiled, nodding. “Maester Jon, it is wonderful to see you.” She held her stomach. “Tell me, any developments my husband or I should be aware of?”

“Unfortunately, yes, my lady.” He sat down. “It seems, from what we can tell so far, that the birth may result in a breach pregnancy.” Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she felt her breath catch. “A breach pregnancy may result in a choice needing to be made.” He leaned forward, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do you understand what this means, my lady?”

She nodded, standing up quickly. “I do. Thank you, Maester Jon. I shall relay the news to my lord husband.”

She gave one last look at the dark corner before practically running out of the wing. She burst through the hall doors, dinner in full swing. There sat Gwayne, eyes drooping, visibly exhausted from his duties.

Who was she to worry him anymore?

Y/N sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek. “How was your day, my love?”

“Infinitely better, now that you are here.” He smiled. “How was the visit?”

She took a large sip of her wine. “Well. All is well.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you.”

He grinned, squeezing back. “I love you much more, my dear.”

If he chose the babe, she knew she would surely die from heartbreak before she bled. She laughed, her eyes watering. “I do not think that is possible.”

Since learning of the news, she’d been restless, barely sleeping and often waking before the sun. Its bright rays peeked through the curtains, hitting her skin. The warmth soothed her for a moment, but it was just that, a moment.

The babe kicked harshly, a quiet groan leaving her. She stared at the ceiling, thinking that in just a few short weeks, she’d be giving birth in this very bed, staring at the same ceiling.

It had always been described to her as horrible and painful beyond recognition. And now that she was carrying an heir, which could possibly be breach, she almost wished she could go back to when they first met and stop herself. When she didn’t have to worry about what she did or where she went, she could just be free.

He would be pressured into choosing the child over her; she knew this. Sometimes, when the need for an heir was strong, women had been carelessly cut open, being left for dead. It had been done many times, most notably in her lifetime, by King Viserys. Rhaenyra had told her of his actions: how he’d carelessly cut Aemma open, and her mother bled out on the bed without ever getting to hold her babe.

She looked over at her husband, fast asleep and dead to the world. His hair covered his eyes; his face was shoved into the pillow haphazardly. She giggled; he’d always slept like there was no tomorrow; it was heartwarming, to say the least. She leaned over, pushing the hair out of his face, kissing his forehead gently.

Rolling to her side, she quietly stood, careful not to wake him. Grabbing her robe from the wardrobe, she made her way to the dining hall, eager to eat something of actual sustenance.

After learning of the news, she had picked at her dinner, telling Gwayne it was because the babe made her nauseous.

In a way, it had.

The smell of bacon and eggs flooded her senses, and she rounded the corner, the doors of the hall wide open. Greeting the occasional servant that passed by, she sat down, piling food onto her plate.

“My lord.” Y/N looked up to see her husband stalking toward her, not even acknowledging the man who had greeted him. Odd, he normally slept as long as he could before starting his day. She smiled brightly. “Good morning, my love.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it a good morning?”

“Quite.” She tilted her head. “Why? Is something amiss?”

He nodded, crossing his arms. “I awoke, and my wife was gone. Imagine my surprise.”

She had felt horrible leaving him, and fighting would only give him more cause to choose the babe. “I am sorry if I scared you.”

“You should be. And another-” He stopped, shock adorning his features. “You are sorry?”

“I should have woken you. It was my mistake.” She pat the chair next to her. “Please, join me.”

“I’m afraid I cannot. I have to meet with the steward this morning.”

Her heart clenched. “I can join you if you’d like-”

“It is not necessary. I will only bore you.”

She murmured, reaching out to grab his hand. “You have never bored me.”

“You are kind, but I’m sorry, I cannot be distracted.” He grabbed a plate, placing a biscuit and two pieces of bacon haphazardly.

She scoffed, glaring at her lord husband. “I did not realize I was such a distraction."

"Y/N...."

"Perhaps I should stay in my chambers for the remainder of my pregnancy. To keep you from further distraction.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

She stood, her eyes cold. “I know nothing of the sort.” She looked over his shoulder, beckoning over a servant. “Please move my things into the adjoining room. I will be sleeping there-”

Gwayne sat his plate down, looking at the servant. “Do not move her things.”

“My lady?” The young girl looked frightened, scared that she was caught in the middle of their argument.

Y/N sighed, dismissing the girl. “It is alright.” She walked away, yelling back at her husband. “I shall do it myself.”

“Y/N!” Gwayne yelled, dropping his plate and running after her. “Come back here at once.”

She ignored him, walking faster. The stairs proved to be a challenge, holding the railing tight. Gwayne placed a hand on her back. “Let me-”

She flinched, pushing him back. “Don’t.”

He mumbled. “You may hate me all you want after this.”

“After what-” He hooked his arm under her legs, carrying her up the stairs. “Gwayne Hightower! You let me down right now!”

The top of the stairs was a relief; she practically jumped out of his arms. She walked into their joint chambers, filling her trunk with things she would need. Gwayne sighed, watching from the doorway. “Will you please just-”

“I will leave you to your devices, my lord. I hope your meetings prove well spent.” Dragging the trunk through the door, she slammed it in his face.

That had been three days ago. They’d seen each other in the halls and at meals, but other than that, Y/N steered clear of her husband. For the better part of the day, he’d been in a meeting with the patrons of Old Town, or so she’d heard. Y/N took that as an opportunity, rushing out of the castle’s gates. Squealing, she cut through the tall grass once more, racing down the hill towards the lake. She threw her dress off, her petticoat barely revealing her modesty. Not that anyone would see, this part of the wood was only known by the family.

The water did wonders for her nerves, cooling her skin. Her hair stretched out past her waist, flowing like the tall grass that surrounded this oasis. She floated for what seemed like hours; the babe had not stirred once. She hummed, rubbing her bump gently. “It is quite peaceful here, is it not?”

A kick.

Y/N grinned, her eyes tearing up. “Please, try your best to make this an easy birth. It would break my heart not to meet you. If that is the case, don’t worry. Your father’s a good man; he’ll raise you well.”

No kick.

She laughed. “Do not ignore your mother. It’s quite disrespectful.”

A kick.

“I miss him too, my love.”

A voice broke through the silence. “Miss who exactly?”

Y/N jumped, standing in the water. “My lord, I did not expect you-”

“I was in a meeting when a guard informed me you were running out of the castle gates.” His face looked conflicted, but she didn’t want to address the fact that he most likely heard that whole ‘conversation,’ so she remained silent. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

So he had heard. She smiled, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. “I do not know what you are referring to, my lord.”

“Stop.” Gwayne sighed. “You haven’t called me that since before we were engaged, and I do not wish for you to start again.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Please come out of the lake.”

She walked past his hand to her dress, every attempt to retrieve it proving futile. “Here.” Gwayne knelt down, picking it up off the stump. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?”

“I would have figured it out, thank you very much.” She glared, pulling the frock over her head. “Do you not have another meeting to attend, my lord?”

“I canceled them.” He laughed, stepping forward. “After I heard my wife was running away from our home, I thought it best to tend to the matter myself.”

“How wise of you.” Y/N crossed her arms.

“Shall we go to bed?”

“I am not tired.” She walked up the hill, leaving him behind. “Have a restful night, my lord.”

She slammed her bedroom door shut, leaning against it. She was tired; she hated to admit it. But she wouldn’t have told him that. She walked over to the window, placing the bouquet she picked on the mantle. A reminder of the freedom she once had. A reminder of life before she faced death itself.

A knock rang out. “May I come in?”

She tensed. “If you must.” She faced the window, too scared to face him. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, she thought she would start crying. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I have to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”

She nodded, walking away from the window and placing her robe in her wardrobe. “Ask it then.”

“Do you still love me?”

Her heart stopped. “I-”

Gwayne stepped forward, wrapping a singular arm around her waist. He drew her in, his scent engulfing her senses. She fought herself not to fall for his spell, but as he leaned his head down, and his breath hitting her neck, she knew she would not last. “If you do not, speak it plainly because I- I cannot go on like this any longer.”

She turned around in his arms, placing her arms on his chest. “I do not believe I could ever stop loving you. Trust me when I say this.” She smiled. “I’m afraid it’s terminal.”

“Ah.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Then what is it that troubles you so?”

“I do not know what you-”

“I beg you, do not finish that sentence.” He tilted her chin up, worry in his eyes. “What ales you, my love?”

“I am simply nervous.” She to be out of his arms. The longer she stayed in his embrace, the more compelled she felt to tell him. “It is nothing, I swear to you.”

He raised his eyebrows, pulling her hands from his chest and kissing them gently. “Please do not lie to me.”

“That night I visited the Maester, he told me something.” He nodded. “He said with the way the pregnancy is progressing, it is possible that the babe will be born breach.” Her voice grew quieter the longer she spoke.

“That’s not all, is it?”

She pushed out of his hold, walking to the other side of the room. “I’m so sorry, Gwayne. Truly, I am. Please forgive me-” a sob wrecked her body. “But I want to live. Please.”

Gwayne shook his head. Where was this coming from? “Whatever are you talking about?”

“I know I have been acting radical as of late, and I apologize, I just thought-” She hiccuped. “I thought it would make your choice easier.”

“What choice, darling?”

She whispered. “Between me and the babe.”

“Why would I-” It dawned on him. Had she really been dealing with this all by herself? “Oh, my sweet girl. Why did you not tell me?”

“I didn’t want to stress you any further.” She hugged herself. “Please, Gwayne. I swear I will give you another heir if this pregnancy-” She shivered. “Just don’t cut me. I beg you.”

He dropped down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Listen to me well. I could sire a hundred children, but you. You are one of a kind, and I will always choose you.” He kissed the back of her hands once more. “Irreplaceable. You must know this.”

“Gwayne, no one is truly irreplaceable.”

He stood, his eyes dark. “Do not say such things again. Swear it to me.”

“I-”

“Swear it, Y/N.”

“I swear.” She whispered, cheeks red. “I swear to you.”

He nodded, smiling lightly. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For coddling you.” He stepped closer, caressing her bump. “I am scared as well. My own mother had many a difficult pregnancy, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“I am sorry as well.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I should have come to you with my worries. I did not want to burden you. And I will make sure you have your heir. I promise you that.”

“I do not care if the Hightower name crumbles away into nothingness. As long as you are content, I will be as well.” He leaned down, their foreheads touching. “There would be no point to this without you. I fear I could not do this if you were not by my side.”

“You have been doing perfectly fine as of late.” She winced. "I truly am sorry.”

“No more of that.” He whispered, staring at her lips. “May we please go to bed?”

She nodded, knowing if she tried to speak that words would fail her. She lay on the bed beside him, tracing his freckles. “Sleep, my love.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I will be here when you wake, I promise.”

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #team black #team green #alicent hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #x reader #fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #hotd fluff #literature #hotd angst #angst

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kurooh · 5 months ago

Text

INTERRUPTED ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. he hates it when someone (or something) interrupts his time with you.

⟡ feat. gojo satoru, kento nanami, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), modern au, roommates! satosugu in gojo’s, stupidity, phone calls, being walked in on, oral [m&f]. not proofread

⟡ xoxo juno: first time writing for jjk.. i’m nervous about the characterizations; i’ll write more characters for hcs if i get reqs. rbs are loved !!

— GOJO SATORU.

“t-toru, that’s perfect, faster please,” you plea, tangling your fingers in his snowy hair and pressing his head closer to your dripping pussy. gojo lets you, whining a little as he scissors his fingers in and out of you and licks at your clit.

you inhale sharply, back bowing right off the bed; a large hand spreads your thighs impossibly wider and press them into the duvet beneath you.

“oh, i’m gonna cum,” you whine, hips jerking towards his fingers desperately. bright blue eyes latch onto yours, and he’s about to watch you fall apart when—

“yo, satoru!” your boyfriend’s roommate, geto, calls breezily from behind the door. before either of you can respond, the door opens and he strides in, looking at his phone. “what do you want for dinner tonight? i’m going to head out to go shopping and—” he looks up, and a pillow nails him right in the face.

“get out, suguru!” gojo yells, covering you with part of the duvet.

geto laughs awkwardly, a blush blooming across his face, and he apologizes quickly before stepping out and closing the door.

“also!” gojo calls, facing the door as he sits down beside you, “tonkotsu for dinner tonight!”

— NANAMI KENTO.

“fuuuck,” kento groans lowly, pressing your head further into his pelvis, his cock sliding down your throat. blond strands fan out around his head as it drops back onto the couch cushions behind him, his eyes fluttering shut.

your soft hands stroke the parts of his cock you can’t fit in your mouth, wet sounds mingling with your choking and filling the room. “angel,” he sighs, fingers soothingly rubbing against your scalp, “this is perfect, i love it when you—”

a familiar ringtone cuts his sentence off, and his face twists in aggravation as he lifts his hips, fishing his phone out of his back pocket with his free hand.

“i’m sorry. it’s ijichi.” kento answers the phone, his cock starting to soften in your mouth.

your eyes meet his as you mischievously slide off the length of his cock, your lips gently suctioned around his tip. kento sits up, his eyes widening, and he’s about to mouth something to you when you slam all the way down, placing your hands on his thighs for support.

he gasps sharply, nearly letting out a moan; he reassures ijichi, who sounds worried.

“oh, yes i’m alright. something nearly fell off my shelf is all..” his voice drifts off and his eyes become lidded, his cock hard enough to cut diamonds.

a heat rushes through your body, and you clench your thighs, removing a hand from his own. you fingers slip into your panties, rubbing at your clit as you look up at him, mouth full. on the phone, ijichi rambles on frantically about something that’s probably not even important, and kento bites his lip, slamming you down hard.

the sudden movement and force of his tip plowing into the back of your throat has you choking, pussy clenching as tears build in your eyes. he looks at you, hearts practically in his eyes, and moves the phone as far as he can from him.

“please, angel— make me cum, just like you always do.”

— FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“you like bein’ fucked like this, huh?” toji grunts, his breath coming out in hard pants, warmth fanning over your face. moaning, and desperately attempting to feel him deeper, you spread your legs impossibly wider.

“yes, toji!” you whimper, hands running down his muscled back; your nails bite crescent moons into the sweaty skin before they rake down his back as your eyes roll back into your head. “a-ah, i want you to fill me up, please—”

“don’t worry doll,” toji murmurs, beads of sweat rolling down his temple as he fucks into you much harder and unforgiving than earlier. “i-i’m gonna fuckin’ stuff you until you can’t breathe. gonna take it all like a good girl, yeah?”

you nod eagerly, eyes shining with tears while your pussy clamps down on his thick cock. he can barely breathe when you’re like this, so pretty and pliant and willing beneath him, taking his cock greedily. your tits bounce, smacking against each other due to the force of his thrusts; he palms at your ass with a large hand of his, squeezing the plush skin before slapping it.

toji can’t wait to fuck all his cum back into you.

“baby, i’m gonna fuckin’ cum—SHIT!”

his face contorts in pain, the cum rushing back down into his balls, and before you can even register what’s happening he’s pulling back and choking out curses.

“what happened, toji?” you’re at his side immediately, rubbing at his back soothingly before he pushes you away, clearly embarrassed and unhappy.

“fuckin’ hamstring cramp, god damn it.”

he rubs at the back of his thigh angrily, his cock deflating between his legs as he grunts out something scathing below his breath.

“i’m fine,” he hisses, punching the back of his leg before finally laying on his back. “fuck, i don’t know where that shit came from.”

“well, you’re getting to that age..” you tease lightly, a smile splitting your lips when he glares at you, hard, and roughly yanks you between his legs, raising them both carefully, for fear of another debilitating cramp. his half hard cock rests against his pelvis, and you stare at it briefly before he pushes you towards it.

“let’s hope you don’t have any more old man cramps, toji.” you stick your tongue out at him before leaning your head towards his tip.

“you better shut that mouth before i fill it for you, princess.”

— KAMO CHOSO.

“o-oh, fuck,” choso heaves from beneath you, his jaw slack with drool trailing down as he watches you ride his cock. the ripple of the muscle beneath the plush skin of your thighs and the soft bounce of your tits always leaves him stuttering and unable to look away from you.

“you like it, baby? want me to go a little faster?” your voice is sweet and soft as your small hands press into the muscle of his pecs for balance.

“mm mm, this is perfect..” he sighs, his back arching uncontrollably as you slowly slide upwards, leaving his tip inside you. then you sit all the way back down, shivering. “are you getting tired?”

“a little,” you smile, giggling softly as he places his hands on your hips. your voice promptly breaks into a whimper when he starts to thrust upwards, erratic and strong as his cock stretches you out and fills you up.

close to going dumb on his cock, you gasp, fingers reaching up to pinch and tweak your nipples for extra pleasure.

“c-choso, right there,” you choke out helplessly, pressure building inside you, all over and racing through each limb.

he finds himself gasping after a particularly rough drag of his cock against your ridged walls, leaving him thickening and throbbing inside you. the room fills with the heavy sound of skin smacking against skin, choso’s deep groans, and your whiny moans.

“so good, s-so good,” he mumbles, back bowing off the bed. strands of his dark brown hair are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead and temples, the rest bouncing against his head and the pillow as he fucks you.

your mouth opens in a plea, eyes half lidded; but you snap your mouth shut and your eyes widen in some kind of panic that has him sitting up, the mood practically ruined. choso’s about to ask what went wrong when he hears a loud pounding at the door and a whiny voice calling for him.

“chosoooo!” the voice is unmistakably yūji’s, and his knocks only grow louder and rougher. “you comin’ out here or what? you’ve been gone for a while and everyone’s looking for you!”

oh, right. the party that he and yūji were hosting at their shared apartment, which is full of their closest friends and the sound of happy voices downstairs.

“i’ll be downstairs in a bit,” choso fights against the urge to snap at him, “five minutes, okay?”

“alright,” yūji finally calls back, sounding disappointed as he stops knocking and leaves you and his brother in bed together.

your eyes widen as he slowly lifts himself out of bed, clearly disappointed but gritting his teeth through it nonetheless. he pulls at the hair bands on his wrists, tying his hair into its usual spiky buns on either side of his head.

“cho!” you gasp, thighs clenching, “we’re not gonna finish up?”

“can’t,” he huffs, rubbing a hand over his face as he makes himself accept it. “we need to go downstairs, we’ve been gone for far too long.”

“i-i was gonna cum,” you whine, peeling yourself away from the bed against your will. tears form in your eyes in absolute frustration. “please don’t do this..”

he sighs before he leans in to kiss you hard. he looks at you, his face flushed and clearly just as unhappy as you are, though his feelings are hidden. “later, when everyone’s gone, i promise i’ll make you cum again and again.. you’ll be begging for me to stop, crying and shaking.”

your face heats quickly, and you look towards him happily, eagerly anticipating later.

with a sexy little laugh, he asks, “does that sound good, baby?”

#kurooh #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk x you

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bleach-your-panties · 11 months ago

Text

JJK Men: When You're Sleepy, But They're Horny🍒🎀

(a/n: i usually suck ass at headcanons but let's give this a whirl. characters aged 18+. nsfw mdni, sexual content. fem reader)

(characters: yuuji, megumi, nanami, toge, gojo)

dividers: glitter-graphics, @/cafekitsune

♥︎

Yuuji:

It's 9pm and you had just returned from a solo mission, finished your shower, hair routine, and climbed into bed. You hear the soft click of your room door opening and you know that it has to be none other than your boyfriend, Yuuji.

"Babe, are you still awake?" His soft voice whispers right beside your ear before he presses a kiss to the side of your head. You groan out something unintelligible and Yuuji's heart sinks a bit.

He's really hard and he was hoping that you might feel like 'playing' a little, but he also knows that you're probably really tired.

"I can feel you pouting, Yuu. Put it in my hand."

You stretch your palm out from under your covers and Yuuji is quickly shoving his pants down to free his hard dick.

"T-thank you, so much, cutie. Fuck, I love you!" He whimpers/whispers as you stroke him with your nice, warm fingers running all along his shaft.

He's so pent-up that it only takes a few rough tugs before he's spilling his seed into your hand.

"Promise to fuck you good when you wake up, baby. You're so good to me."

You were already snoring before he cleaned your hand off and left your room silently.

♥︎

Megumi:

You're curled up in bed with Megumi spooning while the two of you watch anime. You've finished nearly half the season in the last couple hours that you've been watching and now your eyes are drooping.

Megumi is still watching the TV but his eyes flit down to where your ass is pressed against his crotch. The sleep shorts you're wearing give him a perfect view of your thighs.

Being a semi-grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer, you have keen awareness and heightened senses, so you automatically feel Megumi's stone cold blue eyes boring into your back.

"What is it, Megara?" You yawn out, turning slightly to look at him over your shoulder. He rolls said eyes.

"Told you to stop calling me that."

He answers your question by rutting his hips forward and rubbing his hard-on against your ass.

"I'm tired, Megs. Here." You turn over halfway on to your stomach, fully presenting your ass to him and his eyes widen at the gap made by your thighs.

He sinks his dick into the makeshift hole and fucks it slowly, edging himself, until he feels his balls tighten and he's cumming into the opening.

A warm blush covers his cheeks but he dutifully grabs some wipes and cleans you off before kissing your head and pulling you into his chest.

♥︎

Nanami:

Kento is working another late shift and you just can't stay up waiting for him any longer.

You're quickly falling asleep in the armchair when the front door knob twists and he steps inside.

"Angel, are you asleep in the chair?"

"Mmm...Kento is that you?" You drawl with your head resting against the cushion. He chuckles at your cuteness.

"Yes, it's me, darling. Come on, let's get you to bed.

"Okay."

Once he's laid you on the bed, he can't help but begin to caress your smooth legs up to your thighs hidden beneath your nightgown.

His dick begins to strain against his dress pants but he looks up at your blissful face and dares not to ask you if you want to make love.

"Kento...what's wrong? Come on to bed, already."

"Do you mind if I eat you out, darling?"

Your heart swells ten times its size just knowing how much he cares for you.

"Mhmm, please..."

And he dives right in, sucking and licking you to Nirvana. It feels so good, your legs start shaking and you're cumming over his handsome face in record time.

Your orgasm completely knocks you out cold and he chuckles at your peaceful form before undressing to his boxers and climbing under the covers with you.

♥︎

Toge:

You're cuddled up in Toge's bed with him looking at memes and funny videos on his phone.

With a free day from classes, the two of you had been out all day exploring Tokyo and now you're absolutely exhausted.

You snuggle into his warm chest and inhale the scent of his laundry detergent. Toge kisses the top of your head, his lavender eyes then trailing down over your beautiful face....your lithe neck with the necklace he bought you for your birthday around it, and further down to your tits.

He softly inhales and wraps an arm around your back to press you further against him so he can feel your breasts squished against his hard chest.

You shuffle a bit in his hold and your sleepy eyes look up into his amethyst ones.

"Toge...?"

His dick is hard and swollen against his thigh, but you look so cute like this - he can't help but lean his head down to kiss each of your breasts.

"Sleep."

Your body can't do anything but obey.

That was probably the best sleep you'd gotten in a while.

♥︎

Gojo:

Satoru was away for the day on a field trip with his students and you decided to clean the entire house while he was away. You never had the time to do it when he was around because you'd either be holed up in the bedroom all day or pressed up against some random piece of furniture with him thrusting into you wildly.

When you finished the upstairs, you decided to go lie down and have a quick nap before he got back.

Hours later, you're still knocked out; the cleaning had really drained you more than you realized.

"Honeybun, I'm home and I brought you a souvenir!~"

Your joyful husband slams open the bedroom door with some shopping bags in tow.

The bags drop to the floor and he immediately hushes himself once he sees that you're asleep.

"Aww, look at my precious sleeping baby.." He slips off his blindfold, revealing his beautiful, crystalline blue eyes while he shreds himself of his work clothes and joins you in the bed.

The movements make you shift around a bit and then you feel warm breath over your neck and cheeks.

"Hm, Satoru.." Your hand tangles into his soft white locks while his lips press against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet, hungry kisses on your sweet-scented skin.

"Missed you so much, sweetie...need to have you right now."

There was rarely a time when this man wasn't horny for you, but if you refused and wanted to just sleep, he wouldn't object. He knows that even though you're not a sorcerer you still have a life and things that keep you occupied when he's away.

You shift until you're lying completely on your back and Satoru is spreading your thighs with his knees. He pulls out his cock and begins stroking it until it's hard and leaking pre-cum.

"I love you.." He murmurs into your hair once he's sunken all eight inches inside your tight cunt.

Your eyes close instinctively, but he pats your cheek before gripping your chin in his rough grip.

"Look at me. I want to watch your pretty eyes while I fuck you back to sleep."

----

i actually fell asleep while writing this loool. going back to sleep now, peace.

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nanaslutt · 11 months ago

Note

HATE SEX WITH GETO PLEASE 😭😭🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

contains: fem reader, spanking, choking, manhandling, hate fucking, rough sex, dirty talk, cheating, spanking, bathroom sex, angst w/ no comfort, proceed with caution :3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Just thinking about hate sex with ex-boyfriend Geto. You received a video from an unknown number a couple months ago of your boyfriend at the club, big arms slung around two pretty girls as one ground on him under the flashing lights and blaring music of the club. The video was short, but it was all you needed to see. You forwarded the video to Geto, captioned with the words, "fuck you."

The night he went out he told you he was having a guy's night out with Gojo, so imagine your surprise when you woke up to him acting like a whore in public. You still did never find out who sent you that video. Geto spent days blowing up your phone, using your mutual friends to try and talk to you, even going as far to show up to your house, but you rejected all of his advances.

After about a month and a half, when things had calmed down and it was evident to the both of you that your relationship was well over, you finally started going out again. The reason it took you so long? The two of you were in the same friend group. There's a reason they say to date outside of your circle, for situations exactly like this.

Your big debut back into your circle of friends was a night out clubbing. Gojo, Shoko, Utahime, and Nanami were sitting on the plush cushions around you. The only reason you agreed to go out with them tonight was because Shoko had promised Geto wouldn't be there, saying he was stuck at work. Truthfully though, Shoko had missed you so much in the group outings, that she would've found a way to drag you out of the house even if Geto was going to be there.

"This is nice, I'll admit. I missed you guys." You said, working on your second cocktail of the night. Drinks always tasted better when Gojo paid. "Awww~ I don't know how you went so long without seeing me, honestly~" Gojo teased, ruffling your hair in the process. You swatted his hand away, fixing your hair while you shot him a nasty side-eye. "Us, he meant US." Utahime corrected, placing her hand on your knee while also shooting daggers at Gojo.

Gojo stuck out his tongue at Utahime, crossing his legs as he leaned back into the cushions, his arms spreading out behind you and Nanami on the top of the couch. "It's true though, it's nice having you here," Nanami added a light blush dusting on his face from how many drinks he had already downed; he must not have work tomorrow. "Thank you Nanami." you smiled at him before leaning back, crossing your legs over one another, your short black dress riding up your thighs slightly in the process.

"I've been so pent up all month, this feels so good." You giggled, tipping your head over as you directed your words to the girls. "Yeah? I know how you can feel even better." Shoko smirked, sipping on her straight vodka. Utahime smiled giddily, leaning her body forward in interest as she also waited for Shoko to speak. "Blondie over there at the bar has been eyeing you up since we got here, go talk to him." She nudged, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You have been wound up in more ways than one since you and Geto had broken up. He always dicked you down so good, you would miss that. Who knows though, maybe blondie with the nice jawline and pretty face would give you good pipe in the bathroom. You eye him up, biting your lip as you dragged your eyes over his sturdy frame, only noticing he had been watching you oogle him like a slab of meat the whole time when you went to rake your eyes over his handsome face. He smiled, his dimples showing themselves as they dug into his cheeks, fuck he was hot. This was the perfect guy to use to get over Geto, screw that cheater.

"Oh shitt~ Look at them eye fucking each other~ Haha!" Gojo laughed, sipping on his sweet, non-alcoholic, bright pink drink. You turned your head to smirk at Gojo before you placed your hand on his shoulder and used it to push yourself off the seat. "You're really going for it?" Shoko asked incredulously, giggling behind your hand as you smoothed out your dress. "Why not? I'm horny and single, and a hot man is looking at me like I'm the hottest woman he's ever laid eyes on." You said, smiling down at your friends.

"That's because you are," Shoko added, grabbing your thigh for leverage she spun you around to face the man behind you sitting on the barstools, waiting for you to approach him. "I would be jealous If I liked men, he's a cutie." She laughed to Utahime as she watched you take a deep breath and walk off toward the man.

You walked through the club with confidence, a heartbeat already forming behind your panties as you got closer and closer, watching the way he eyed up your body as you walked. "Friends talked some sense into you, huh?" The man spoke when you got within ear shot. You took the seat next to him, plopping down on the barstool you spun the seat around to face him, your legs slotting together with one another as you placed your heel-clad feet on the bottom of his barstool.

His eyes darted down to your legs, watching you insert yourself into his space with confidence. "Too shy to come up to me yourself?" You asked, placing your hand on his knee as you rubbed circles against his pants, making him swallow the lump in his throat, feeling the heat rise to his face with how bold you were being. "You kidding? Those guys you're with are fucking repellent. Didn't know if you were with one of them or not." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink to ease his nerves.

"But you were watching me anyways?" You teased, keeping your eyes locked onto his. He took in a deep breath, pressing his lips together as before he spoke. "You have no idea what you look like, huh?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. "Who wouldn't be able to resist looking at someone like you?" His words sent shivers down your spine, you needed to get him in a bathroom stall with you hours ago. As the two of you continued flirting with one another, eyefucking each other as you sipped on your respective drinks, someone unexpected entered the club.

"Heyy." Geto's voice echoed into your friend's ears. The dark-haired man was half up, half down in his signature bun, one hand tucked into his pocket while his other was held up in front of him, waving to his friends. "Hey troublemaker~" Gojo smiled largely. Shoko groaned along with Utahime. "Thought you couldn't make it?" Nanami asked as he slid in next to him on the couch, spreading his long legs out on the cushions as he took Nanami's drink from him, taking a gulp.

"Got off early, thought I might come by." He responded, laughing when a drunk Nanami snatched his drink back from Geto, muttering to order his own drink. "Come by my ass, you work on the other side of town." Shoko laughed incredulously, adding that you were not going to be very happy. "She's here?" Geto asked, his demeanor immediately perking up. Shoko looked to Utahime knowingly before she looked back to Geto, hissing air in through her teeth.

"Yes cheater~ Of course she's here, and she's about to score by the looks of it." Shoko laughed, making Gojo whistle as he dragged his gaze to you, watching you pull your head back from the whispering something in the mans ear before his lips moved, head moving in tandem as you slid off of the barstool, taking his larger hand in his as you dragged him away from the seat, making him place his drink down on the bar top, abandoning it as you dragged him away to the bathroom.

Geto had just watched the entire scene unfold in front of him that the rest of them had seen. Of course, Geto had come here for you. Shoko was right, he worked almost half an hour away from the club, he was exhausted from work but when he saw you say in the group chat you were going to be here, he knew he had to make a detour. He knew he fucked up when he lied to you about going to the club, but truthfully he had done nothing more than let a couple girls fawn over him, grinding on him while they peppered kisses on his cheeks, never coming close to his mouth.

He still loved you, of course, he did, but you had been adamant about not seeing him at all for almost two months. He hadn't really given up, he would never give up on trying to get you back, he just figured maybe a little break and letting you calm down would lead you back to him. Clearly, he was wrong as he watched you maneuver your way through the crowd, dragging some man you met five minutes prior away to fuck, looking good as all hell.

He grits his teeth, pressing his feet firmly on the floor Geto was on the move in a heartbeat, no one could stop him. "Oh look what you did." Nanami huffed, looking at Shoko. "She's gonna be fucking pissed you know." Shoko's jaw was on the floor. She severely underestimated the amount of balls Suguru Geto had. "How the fuck was I supposed to know he was gonna go chase after her???" She said, looking at him with an expression that almost resembled horror, making Gojo laugh his ass off between them.

Once you made it to the secluded corner of the club just outside the bathrooms, you spun your body around, wrapping your arms around the man. "You wanna fuck me?" You whispered into his ear, feeling his large hands wrap around your waist, his knee sliding between your legs. He groaned at your words, staring between your lips and your pretty eyes as you bit your lip at him, "Fuck yeah, pretty girl." He smiled, shaking his head as he leaned in for a kiss.

You closed your eyes, waiting for a sensation against your lips that never came. Your eyes shot open when he yelled out an exasperated "Hey! What the fuck!" His lips loosened on your waist as he was dragged away from you by a strong grip on his hair. "Geto?!" You yelled, spinning your body to look at him, your body heating up with rage combined with the neglect of pleasure. "Who the fuck are you?!" The blond-haired man yelled, trying to grip Geto's wrist to make him release the hold he had on his hair.

"Her boyfriend." He deadpanned, throwing him in the direction of the club as he reached his hand over your head, pushing the door open behind you, forcing you into the small bathroom with his large frame, leaving you no time to refute. "I didn't know man, fuck!" The man's voice was cut off as the bathroom door shut behind the two of you, Geto's hand coming down to lock the door, leaving you alone in the personal bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing?" You asked, shoving his chest back, Geto not even moving a muscle as his jaw muscles bulged out under the weight of his clenching teeth, his dark eyes watching you fume. "What the fuck were you doing?" Geto responded, walking toward you slowly, making you step back unconsciously, trying to keep some distance between the two of you. "Why is that any of your fucking business?" You spat, almost laughing at his audacity.

"We never officially broke up." Geto retorted, clenching his fists by his sides. "Oh! Oho!" You laughed, "Excuse me, allow me to make it official for you, we are fucking done." You dug your nail into his chest, squinting your eyes as you looked into his, your tall heels making you feel more confident as your height difference wasn't as dramatic now. "Thought I made it pretty fucking clear when I didn't respond to you for almost two months, but you always were pretty dense." You huffed, backing away from him once you got your point across.

"Were you just trying to get even with me? Huh? Thought fucking some random guy in the club like a slut would make you feel better about yourself?" He yelled, continuing to walk toward you until your back hit the wall, making you jolt, you hadn't even realized you were walking backward. "The fuck did you call me?" You asked, scrunching your eyebrows together. "You're such a fucking hypocrite, acting like that wasn't exactly what you did to me." You laughed again. You felt like you were going crazy, why was he acting like you were the one in the wrong here?

"I never fucked them! Never! Maybe if you answered my fucking calls or looked at my texts you would know that!" He shouted, getting in your face. You shook your head, looking at him with disdain. "Oh, because letting girls dry hump you is so much fucking better, right?" You yelled back, the ghost of a smile gracing your features, you were so done with him.

"God you really are the worst." You spat, your eyes shooting daggers into his own. "How the fuck are you gonna make up for scaring that guy off, huh?" You asked, tilting your head at him, making his eyes lock onto yours once more. Geto cocked his head at you, clearly uncomfortable with you mentioning the blonde stranger, knowing damn well you meant you were going to fuck him, and now you were left dry.

You scoffed, "What? Don't like the thought of me getting off on someone else's cock? Moaning someone else's name? Huh? That shit make you mad?" You got in his face, keeping your squinted eyes on his dark ones. Geto doesn't know what came over him, but he couldn't stand to hear you talk anymore. His lips were on yours, swallowing your surprised moans, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth, crushing his jaw into yours, your head bumping into the wall behind you.

You were still mad as hell, but his lips felt so familiar, your arousal crept up through the cracks of your irritation and made you kiss him back harder, fighting him for dominance. His hand came to grab your throat, squeezing harshly, his fingers digging into your delicate skin, making you whine into the kiss. He was never this rough with you, and you were loving it.

He pulled back, his free hand coming down to undo his belt quickly, pulling the leather through the loops as he threw it somewhere on the floor of the filthy bathroom floor, "Don't you ever talk about someone else fucking you in front of me." He growled, squeezing your throat to emphasize his words, You smiled through the lack of oxygen, little black dots clouding your vision, but you still felt the need to fight back. "Fuck you." You whispered.

Geto spun you around in one swift movement, making you face the wall, your hands coming to brace against the brick as you felt him lift your skirt over the curve of your ass, your panties being roughly yanked down midway on your thighs. Everything was happening so quickly, the adrenaline pumping through your veins only fueling your arousal. You knew this was not a good idea, but your body was too weak to Geto.

Geto shook his head as his eyes came into contact with your dripping pussy. He bit his lip between his teeth, pulling his cock out through his pants as he gave himself a couple rough strokes, his hand sliding down to your ass as he rubbed his thumb through your folds, spreading them and rubbing your wetness around before he dipped the digit into your hole, slowly pumping in and out. He was absolutely fuming at the thought of you giving this to someone else, he wondered if you had in the time you haven't been talking.

"You this wet from that fucking loser, or from me yelling at you?" Geto asked, pulling his thumb back to leave a rough smirk on your ass, pushing his hips forward as he rubbed his tip along your folds, getting his cock slick with your juices. "You're so full of yourself, shoulda seen the way he was touching me under the table." You giggled, turning your head to the side to look at him. You kept your words vague on purpose to piss Geto off. He had been touching you under the table, but only your thigh.

"You fucking slut." Geto grit through his teeth, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck, his fingers pinching your skin with how hard he was gripping you. "And you still wanna fuck me." You laughed, the noise getting cut short when he pushed his cock into you all at once with zero warning, keeping his balls pressed to your ass as he let his cock throb inside your walls still, his back pressing agaisnt your chest as he leaned into your ear, his deep voice whispering, "That's enough out of you." His voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine.

"Fuck!" you yelled when he pulled his hips back before he bullied his cock back into your unprepped walls, stretching you open as he meanly fucked you against the wall. "Shit- Think he could fuck you better than me? Huh?" Geto asked, leaning back as he pressed the back of your neck into the wall, his other hand holding under your hip as he held you in an arch, the pace of his hips making your knees squeeze together, bending slightly at the stimulation.

You brought one of your hands down between your thighs to rub little circles into your clit, your eyes crossing at the feeling. Geto must have felt how tight you got because he groaned through his teeth, his hand leaving your hip for a moment to come down to leave a harsh smack on your ass. "Fuck- I don't know, heh- If you didn't interrupt me I w-would've found out. He shook his head, smiling through the malice he felt coursing through his veins. "You're such a fucking brat." Smack, "Just sayin' that shit to get me worked up so I'll fuck you like the whore you are."

You wanted to hit him back every time he slapped your ass. Sure, it felt good, but you knew he was trying to put you in your place, so the action made a vein pop out on your forehead. You were so glad he couldn't see your face right now. Your words might've been sharp and snarky, but your face was flushed red and your eyes were rolling back in your head every time his fat cock thrust right against your sweet spot deep inside you, the one only he could reach. "I-I hate you-" You moaned out between his mean thrusts.

You heard him coo in response, his hand leaning the back of your neck so he could grip your waist with both hands and yank you back on his cock harder, fucking whines from your lips. "Don't talk to me like that baby, hurts my feelings~" Geto retorted, his jaw dropping in a small o when you rubbed your clit harder at his words, making your hole clench around him so tightly it felt like you were trying to milk him of all he was worth.

"Would you really be squeezing me this tight if you hated me? Hmm?" He teased, practically slamming your ass back on his pelvis, loud squelching noises bouncing off the walls. Thank god you were in this loud-ass club or everyone would know exactly what was going on, not like you really cared. "Shut up and fuck m-me." You responded curtly, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on reaching your high, timing your finger rubbing circles against your clit with his thrusts inside you.

"That's what I'm doing, dumb s-slut." Geto groaned, dropping his gaze to where the two of you were connected, feeling a warmth in his stomach bloom at the white ring of cum that had formed around the base of his dick. "Godd pussy is fucking milking me- you cant survive without me, need me- need this dick." Geto spoke between rough thrusts, his own words working himself up as he felt his high creep over him.

You grit your teeth at his words, moans spilling from your lips without your permission. He was fucking the shit out of you, you don't think he's ever been so rough before. His words, his hips, his hands, all of it, so fucking rough, and it was quickly working you up to your orgasm. You were too overwhelmed, tears started forming in your eyes with all of the stimulation and emotion you were feeling. He was hammering into your g-spot, making your legs shake uncontrollably.

"God- fuck- Gonna make me cum inside my pussy, my fucking pussy-" Geto babbled, shaking his head as he tried to get a peek at your face, noticing how you had bitten your lip between your teeth, tears streaming down your face. "Fuck, you crying? Feels that good?" He laughed. You didn't want him to know how good you were feeling, didn't want him to know his words were true; you couldn't live without him or his dick. His cock alone was literally fucking tears out of your eyes, it was so intense.

"Not gonna speak huh? Fine, stay quiet then." Your ex-boyfriend huffed, looking down at your pussy stretched around his girth as he fucked himself to his orgasm, you close behind him. "Shit- shit I'm coming- take it baby fu-ck~" Geto groaned, leaning over your back, burring his face into your neck. You felt his teeth dig into your neck when you felt the first rope of his warm seed shoot inside you, making your orgasm crash over you.

The two of you rode your highs out together, Geto's hips weakly and unceremoniously thrusting into your sopping cunt, working you through your orgasms. Geto jerked against your body, his strong hands wrapping around your torso as he kept you pressed against him, unloading his cum into your abused pussy. You whimpered into the wall, feeling his teeth leave your neck when he started coming down from his high, his face keeping its place in your neck.

The two of you stayed quiet for a while, relishing in the silence save for the dull booming of the club music echoing through the walls of the bathroom. Geto's hands were petting the skin of your hips, and for just a moment, you let yourself think everything was okay, losing yourself in the feeling; until he spoke. "I am sorry you know. So fucking sorry." He whispered into your neck, not daring to move.

You heaved out a sigh, pushing his arms off of you. You reached behind you and pushed his pelvis back, wincing in overstimulation when his softened cock slid out of your walls, his cum chasing after him, making your face scrunch at the uncomfortable feeling. "That wasn't what this was." You responded coldly. Bending down you pulled your panties up, keeping his cum snug inside you.

You turned around to watch him open your mouth, to which you held your hand up, stopping him; amazed when he actually listened. You pushed past him, bumping his shoulder in the process. Without another word, you unlocked the bathroom door and on shaky legs, left the small room and out into the nightclub to find Shoko and Utahime and get the hell out of there. Geto sighed deeply, tipping his head back as he stared at the ceiling before he closed his eyes, feeling the remorse wash over him, "fuck."

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iamnotoriginalphil · 8 days ago

Text

To Be Taught a Lesson (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Agatha has some anger to work out. Lucky for her, you happen to be right within touching distance.

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, power imbalance, toxic relationship, age gap (all 18+), corruption kink if you squint, bondage, swearing, degradation, marking, vibrator, begging, jealousy, possessiveness, overstimulation, dom!Agatha, sub!R

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @toomanylesbiancouples @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle

You were curled up on the swing on Agatha’s back porch. Large swathes of skin were on show, your legs bare despite the chill in the air. Her sweater, the cashmere one that had cost an arm and a leg, looked good on you. With your head bent over the book in your lap, hair falling forward from where it had come free from the bun you’d thrown it into that morning, sunlight hitting your body, you glowed.

She looked away from you, back to the garden. The gardener had returned, planting something for the first blush of spring. You hadn’t even seemed to notice his arrival, buried in a book you’d been pouring over for days now. She knew that book. It was achingly familiar, the leather cover and embossed letters like a dream from another lifetime.

You tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. Her eyes followed it, lingering long after your fingers had fallen back into your lap. Your teeth were worrying at your lower lip, a move that had grown familiar over the months of watching you. Every time you read, lost in thought, working on something, those teeth would sink in and she would feel her entire body come alive. Knowing what it felt when it was her teeth had only made the entire experience worse.

She wasn’t sure you knew exactly how tempting you were. You’d wandered into that library, in that insufferable bore’s home, and she’d known she had to have you. All wide eyed innocence and desperation, you’d been delicious from the moment she’d laid eyes on you.

And then you’d proven yourself to be exceptional.

Now, knowing you, knowing your body and your soul, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep you. Some nights she’d watch you sleep, worn out from her ministrations, and feel her heart squeeze. It wasn’t fair, how you impacted her, the effect you had on her, and you had no idea. None. That with a single word you could bring her to her knees.

You glanced up, lips parted on a soft sigh, eyes alighting on her. Your smile was immediate, your entire being brightening, melting back into the cushions on the swing. Your foot was on the wooden slats of the porch, gentle rocking yourself, bare leg making her mouth water.

“Anything else you need, Miss Harkness?”

She snarled, turning towards the gardener lingering was at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes widened, taking a step back from her.

“No,” she replied, the eye roll obvious in her voice, “get out.”

She watched him scurry away, a sick sense of pleasure coursing through her body. She shook her hair back from her face, her finger brushing back those strands caught in the wind. When she turned back to you, it was to find sparkling eyes and a hidden smile turned in her direction. The warmth that melted through her veins left her feeling unsettled.

“Do you aim to scare everyone you cross paths with?” you asked, slowing your rocking.

“Do I scare you, pet?” she asked in return.

You shook your head, lip caught between your teeth, keeping your pretty smile from blooming over your face. You made such a nice picture, in her clothes, bruises on your skin left from her lips and her fingers, looking at her like she was the only thing you could see. She wanted to devour you, to chain you up and keep you from ever leaving, to hold you so close and so gentle that nothing ever happened to you.

She sauntered towards you, hands in pockets, staring down at you. You watched her, mouth falling open, eyes sweeping over her body. She revelled when you looked at her like that, like she was every dream you’d ever had, like you were an innocent hoping to be corrupted.

She knew you were anything but innocent.

“I could, if you liked,” she said, stopping in front of you, “would you like to be scared?”

“I’d rather get my heart rate up over something else,” you said in that way that sounded so sweet but let her now what a naughty pet you could be.

Your hand reached for her, clutching at her shirt, tugging on her until she was close enough to curl her hands around you, to seek out your bare skin, to make you shiver. She skimmed her fingertips along your leg, pausing at the hem of the sweater you were in.

“I believe this is mine,” she said, pinching it.

“You can have it back if you want,” you said, stretching your leg out in a move that had her wanting to sink her teeth into your skin, “but you’ll have to take it off me yourself.”

You had grown so much since that girl she’d first met, careful to always say the right thing, stealing glances, wanting something you thought you couldn’t have. She chuckled, running her fingertips back down your leg, luxuriating in the warm skin under her touch.

“I wouldn’t bother,” she said.

You pouted and she knew you were doing your best to tempt her.

“It looks so pretty on you. Why deny myself the pleasure of seeing you in it?” she murmured.

Your eyes brightened, your smile turning pleased. She loved when she could please you. Your gaze turned down, head dipping, hair falling into your face, hiding you from her.

“None of that, kitten,” she said, her fingers raising your chin again.

Your fingers were still clutching her shirt. When you tightened them, pulling her closer, she let you without argument, wanting it as much as you seemed to.

“Sit with me?” you asked, and she couldn’t say no to you.

Your legs shifted as she sat beside you, feet pressing into her thigh. It was like you were unable to stay away from her, to keep yourself from touching her in some way. It had been so long since someone had been so intent on her. You’d made your promises of forever, but your actions were what made her believe there was a chance they would be true. You always reached for her, the moment she was in the same room. Your eyes always turned to her. Your entire focus caught on her. It was nice to know she was the only thing you could see.

“What are you reading, kitten?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

“A manual on how to be a witch,” you replied, smile turning impish.

She could imagine you as a witch. Dancing under the moonlight with a group of women, power coursing through your veins, brewing up potions. You’d take to it like a duck to water, your natural habitat. You’d be formidable with magic running in your veins.

“The one I sent you for?” she asked, delicate as she could be.

“Rio returned it,” you said, eyes darting up to her then back down to the book in your lap.

“How kind of her.” She wasn’t trying to hide her sarcasm.

“Are you mad?” you asked.

“Not at you, kitten.”

She curled her fingers around your ankle, tugging until your foot was in her lap. With a featherlight touch, she ran her index finger along the arch of your foot. You squirmed, trying to pull out of her hold. She did it again, tightening her hold, refusing to let you go.

“Agatha,” you whined and she so loved that sound. Her name on your lips was a delight she wasn’t sure she would ever grow tired of.

“Yes, pet?” she asked, still stroking your skin.

“Tickles,” you complained.

She continued for another few moments, enjoying the way you wiggled, the noises of complaint you made, but the way you stopped trying to pull away. She wasn’t lying when she’d told you she had complete control over your body. And the best part was the way you submitted to her so easily. She loved how easily she could take control, and how easily you let it go.

She placed your foot down again, stopping the torture. Holding it in her lap, she began the rocking of the swing again. Your toes flexed against her thigh. When she looked back to you, you were watching her with such a heartbreakingly fond expression on her face. It made her want to bury herself in you.

“So have you learnt how to be a witch?” she asked rather than letting herself examine that too closely.

“Maybe,” you said, “can I try reading your palm?”

“Are you hoping to read my fortunes?” she asked, but she was already presenting her hand to you, turning her body so she was sitting crossed legged across from you. You moved your body to mirror her.

“Perhaps I just want to know if fate knows what I know,” you said, taking it in both of yours.

“And what do you know?” she asked.

You flashed her a smile.

“That our lives will be entwined forever.”

You bent your head over her palm, fingertips tracing over whatever you saw there. She let herself study you as you did, the way she had lost hours to in her office, in her bed, on her couch. Every time she found something new in your features, something new to enjoy, something new that delighted her. Your face was more familiar to her than her own, and yet she couldn’t look away.

“So there’s your life line,” you said, finger brushing her skin like she was something precious, “it’s nice and long so you’ll probably live forever.”

You glanced up at her, grinning. Her own smile was an automatic response. Your fingertips were still brushing over her palm, making her head spin.

“It says you’re vibrant and full of life. No breaks in it either so you should have good health. No need for that nurses outfit I bought then.”

Her fingers closed around yours, holding them still.

“And when did you have time to go buy a nurse outfit?” she asked.

“A few years ago for halloween,” you replied, “I got a lot of free drinks in it.”

She gritted her teeth, knowing it was irrational to be mad about any liaisons you’d had before meeting her but just the thought of anyone looking at you with lust had her blood boiling. You were hers, and if she had her way, everyone would know that. She’d have her name branded over your skin and ensure anyone who looked at you felt the fear they should. No one crossed her and no one coveted what was hers.

Not when it came to you.

“And you wanted to wear it for me?” she asked through her gritted teeth.

“I thought you might like it,” you said, looking at her through your eyelashes.

Oh, you could ruin her with just that look.

“Of course, maybe you’d prefer me in something else,” you said, “I could dress up as a witch for you if you’d like.”

“You think I’d like you to dress up for me?” she asked.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t like to see me in my sexy little outfits?”

You were playing with fire. You had to know that. And yet you kept smiling at her like you were some kind of fucking angel.

“Go back to your palm reading,” she said, rather than giving you an answer.

You lingered, eyes sparkling at her, before looking down at her palm once again. She released your wandering fingers. You began tracing her skin again.

“The head line. A nice long clear line. You’re clever, but then, everyone knows that. A brilliant mind for a brilliant woman.” Your voice was so soft, “but this curve means you’re creative.”

Your lips ticked up and she was desperate to know what you were thinking. She could have asked but the answer might shatter her.

“And there’s your fate line. It starts where your life line does, speaking to your ambition and self-confidence. It’s not very clear though, so you might not have good luck. I think.”

Your self deprecating chuckle was familiar to her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. She knew you so well.

“Your marriage line is short so you might never get married and if you do it’ll be later in life.”

She felt her breath catch.

“And then there’s your love line.” You glanced up at her again before returning back to her hand, “interesting. Very interesting.”

“What is?” she asked, surprised how much she wanted to hear your answer.

“This says you’re going to have a happy long love.” Your fingers were still stroking over her skin, “and that you’re an exceptional lover.”

“It does not,” she said but she was smiling.

“It does. Right here.”

You tilted her palm towards her, your finger running along one of the line on her palm. She looked at it, more focused on the look of your skin against hers. You stroked her palm again and tilted it back towards yourself, holding it in your lap like it was something to be treasured.

“And then hand shape matters too,” you said.

You had begun to draw patterns on her palm, and she could see the cogs working in your brain. The book was still in your lap, just underneath her hand, the image of a palm facing up towards you. She wished she had a window into your brain, that she could rifle through your thoughts the way she could through that book.

“Agatha,” you said, voice quiet and she knew you weren’t about to tell her about her hand shape.

“Yes, pet?” she asked, bracing for whatever was about to come out of your mouth.

“Who’s Wanda?”

She hadn’t braced well enough.

It was like being kicked in the gut, her breath rushing out of her. Her ribs ached and heart was squeezing hard. It was as if her vision was tunnelling, focused on that one point of contact between you, her hand and yours and that damned book. She should have never sent you to go get it.

“Where did you get that name?” she asked, her voice not sounding her own.

You flinched back, hands dropping hers and you looked up at her. Your wide eyed innocence wasn’t what she wanted to see.

“Rio. She said… she said I should know what happened,” you said.

“She had no right,” she snarled.

Her anger propelled her out of the swing, leaving you behind as she tried to get a handle on the emotions coursing through her body. You stayed behind, giving her space, not drawing closer the way you often did.

“Is she why you hate Rio?” you asked.

“No,” she said, “that’s a different issue entirely.”

The swing creaked. She couldn’t look at you, not when there was still so much anger in her. If she did she might break you, irreversibly, and just the thought of destroying you had her seizing with panic. So it was better she continued looking out over her garden rather than face you.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, not liking how lost you sounded. There was so much you didn’t understand, so much she hadn’t told you. It wasn’t lying. It wasn’t. She’d been waiting.

She’d had to be sure you wouldn’t be like Wanda.

“Is it really that bad?” you asked.

“Does it matter?”

She turned to you. You’d pulled your knees up, curling your arms around your legs, chin resting on top. Watching her with those big sad eyes that she was certain could get her to do anything, you were so solemn. Her fingers clenched at her side, fighting against the impulse to reach out.

“She was your student, right?” you asked, “I know there were others, that I’m not the first.”

“Rio shouldn’t have told you that,” she said.

“I’m glad she did. I want to know,” you said.

She turned her face away from you, leaning back against the railing.

“And it doesn’t matter. Because I know I’ll be the last one.”

Her head snapped towards you. You were still watching her, so serious, and so perfect. She had no idea how something so lovely had landed in her lap.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Just that I plan on never letting you go. No one will come after me. This is it. And if you’re not okay with that I don’t really give a fuck. I’ll convince you if you’re not but there will never be anyone else for me but you,” you said, so fierce. Fire ran through your veins and it left her breathless.

She should have never doubted you.

“Wanda was my student ten years ago. The last student I mentored. I fell in love and she didn’t. When she graduated, and she graduated top of her class under my guidance, she took something from me. The book I’d been working on. She took it and when I confronted her about it she threatened to go to the administration about our relationship,” she said, the secrets finally spilling forth, “last I heard she was married with twin boys. Rio made sure to keep me abreast of her situation.”

“Agatha,” you sighed.

She hated the pity in your voice. Shaking her head, she turned back to the garden.

“She took everything from me. She’s the reason my career has stagnated for so long. I can’t move forward with my research without her destroying me and it feels unfinished so I can’t move on to something new,” she said.

The swing creaked again. She couldn’t bear to look at you, to see the pity she knew would be swimming in your eyes. There was a reason she hadn’t told you. Any weakness couldn’t be shown. She was strong and capable and there were no chinks in her armour. No chance of hurting her.

Arms curled around her body, tugging her towards a warm body. Your chin hooked over her shoulder, tightening your arms around her.

“You didn’t deserve that,” you said, voice soft, but there was steel there.

“No, I didn’t,” she replied.

“I’ll curse her for you,” you offered, “make it so she can’t even say your name.”

“Don’t tempt me, kitten.”

You nuzzled against her neck, lips brushing over her skin. She lent back, letting you hold her up. Pressing a kiss to her skin, you hummed. She let out a long breath, fingers twining through yours.

“Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” you murmured into her neck.

You’d been nothing but good to her. So sweet and so pliable and so accommodating. You were a literal dream for her.

So why was her stomach still roiling?

“Rio had no right to bring this up with you,” she said after a moment of silence.

“She’s had no right to do any of it,” you said.

She spun in your arms, slow as she thought over what she wanted. Mostly, she needed an outlet for her anger and there were no little students around to bear the brunt of it. No, all she had was you.

“You should have walked away when she tried to talk to you,” she said.

“Agatha, she had me pinned to a tree,” you said, fingers gently brushing her hair away from her face.

That was a bit of information you’d failed to mention when reporting back to her.

“She did?” Her fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look at her, “was she flirting with you?”

“Maybe.”

Her hold on you tightened. You shifted your weight from foot to foot but you didn’t try to pull away from her. Your lips parted and you were a picture of temptation.

“You don’t know? Or you don’t want to tell me the truth?” she asked, voice lowering.

You were close enough she could feel you shiver.

“I don’t think she was serious about it,” you said.

“You don’t know her like I do,” she said, “such a pretty little thing like you? She could never resist.”

“I’m not that irresistible,” you laughed.

You had no idea.

“Oh my sweet kitten.” Her nails dug in to your skin, “such a good girl. So innocent. You’re a siren call to her. You are everything that tempts her.”

“I’m not that innocent,” you pouted.

“You’re right. She doesn’t know what a naughty pet you can be.”

She spun the two of you, pressing your back into the railing. You gasped and your eyes widened. That was the innocent look she was talking about. It was the one that would drive Rio wild if she saw it. But if anyone was going to corrupt you, it was going to be her.

“Agatha,” you said, voice small and desperate and so delicious she wanted to drown in it.

“But she can’t have you, can she, pet?” she asked, tipping your chin up.

“No,” you said.

“Because you belong to me, don’t you, pet?” she asked.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Then go be a good girl and wait for me on the bed.”

She let you go and stepped back. You lingered a moment, staring into her face, before you scrabbled away, rushing to follow her orders. She watched you, something dark curling through her veins. You paused, looking back at her over your shoulder, her sweater clinging to your curves. With a sly smile, you ran up the stairs, bare legs flashing.

You were in so much trouble.

She flicked the cover of the book closed, wrinkling her nose at the entire thing. Throwing it onto the kitchen counter, she was not being careful with it. If Rio was going to plant a reminder of her presence in her home, she wasn’t going to treat it with any kind of reverence. No, that would be kept all for you.

You were kneeling in the middle of her bed, the sweater pooling around the top of your thighs, hair loose. Teeth were worrying at your lower lip and your eyes were bright. You’d tugged the sleeves over your hands, looking the picture of innocence. You’d understood exactly what she wanted.

She was never letting you go.

“Look at you, following instructions for me,” she murmured, stepping into the room proper.

“Anything for you,” you said.

Her fingertips ghosted over the apple of your cheeks, looking down on you. Your eyes watched her from under lowered lashes, blinking as she let herself touch you. You were so plaint beneath her fingers.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, eyes sweeping over your body.

“Whatever you want,” you replied, sounding so breathless she’d be worried if she didn’t know it was all an act to excite her.

“That’s right, pet. I’ll do whatever I want to you and that pretty pussy between your thighs,” she said.

You made such a wonderful little noise. Leaning down, she let her breath ghost over your lips, grinning when you tipped your face up, straining towards her. She shoved you back, your back hitting the mattress. Crawling over your body, she felt you squirm.

“Are you wet, pet?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” you said.

“Are you making a mess on my cashmere sweater?” she asked.

You made another small noise. Her fingers dipped down, feeling how wet you were, seeking out evidence of you dripping onto her very expensive sweater. She already had a plan of how to punish you for it.

She grinned.

“Would you look at that,” she murmured, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping for me.”

“Want you, Agatha,” you whined.

“You’re always such a desperate little thing. I bet you’d let anyone fuck you if they could get you off,” she said.

“No, no, only you,” you said.

“Don’t lie to me, pet. When Rio had you pinned to that tree I bet you were gagging to have her knuckles deep inside of you. If she offered you’d jump at the chance. You’re such a desperate little slut you don’t care who it is as long as it feels good,” she said, fingers featherlight as they ran through your folds.

“Only you,” you whimpered again, hips bucking into her hand as you tried to urge her on.

“I bet you got yourself off to the feeling of her pinning you to that tree. Was that why you came home so desperate for me? You got down on your knees right there in the kitchen for me because she left you all riled up. Should I send her a thank you note for sending you home in such a state?” she asked, watching you while her fingers brushed over your clit.

“Agatha,” you moaned, fingers clenching in her sheets.

“Or maybe I should offer her a go with you? A nice thank you for all the pleasure I’ve gotten from you. I’m sure you’d enjoy that,” she said, knowing she was being mean but not caring.

“No,” you moaned.

“No you wouldn’t enjoy that? Because I think you would. I think you’re such a slut it doesn’t matter who you’re in bed with. You don’t discriminate as long as they can fuck you good and proper,” she said, “you’re nothing but a dirty whore.”

“Agatha,” you whimpered.

She removed her hand from between your legs, forcing her fingers between your lips. You lapped at her skin, licking away the mess you’d made, sucking on them until your cheeks hollowed. You were watching her, such heat in your eyes it made her feel on fire.

She drew them from between your lips, wiping them dry on the sweater still encasing your body. With swift hands, she tugged it off your body, throwing it aside. Completely bare before her, all she could think of was the way you’d been sauntering around the house all morning like that. Nothing but a thin sweater between her and your body. You were such a little tease, knowing exactly what it would do to her.

“Parading yourself around in front of the gardener like that, I bet you would have let him take you right there on the lawn,” she said, “I bet you would have liked it if I’d watched.”

“There’s no one but you,” you whispered.

She scoffed but her hands were busy on your skin, feeling how soft it was beneath her touch. You arched into her, presenting yourself so beautifully for her. Fingers pinched at your nipples, watching the way your eyes slid closed, lips parting in a soft sigh. You knew how to drive her wild, to tempt her into losing control.

She would not be losing control.

With a strong grip, she manoeuvred you further up the bed. Catching both of your wrists, she lent over the top of you, securing them above your head. You tugged on them, your bonds, finding them unforgiving. Agatha grinned down at you.

“No chance of you slipping away to one of those other beds you warm now. Maybe I’ll leave you tired up here for days, use you to my heart’s content until you’re all fucked out,” she mused, finger tips brushing down your body.

She paused on your nipples, flicking them. You hissed, arching up into her touch, looking at her from under hooded eyelids. That was the look of her pet who thought she was going to get exactly what she wanted. The kind who thought she could get what she wanted by pouting her pretty lips and doing what she was told. The kind that thought she was a good girl.

How wrong you were.

It wasn’t until you were squirming on the mattress, your nipples pinched between her fingers, that she considered what she should do to you first. Spread out for her, bare to her gaze, you were the most beautiful view. She licked a long strip between your breasts.

“You’re so easy, pet. You’d let anyone tie you up like this,” she murmured into your skin.

You shook your head, whimpering when she harshly twisted one of your nipples. You were always so responsive to her, just a sweet little thing for her, just as she knew you would be that first time she laid eyes on you. Every part of you yearned to please her and you’d never made a secret of that fact. It alway sent a thrill through her.

“Should I keep you right here? Never let you escape?” she asked.

“Please,” you begged, “keep me forever.”

Her nose brushed along the soft curve of your breast, lips pressing to your skin. Your spine arched, offering yourself up to her. Such a good pet. Her teeth sunk in, your gasp gratifying. She wanted to see her teeth marks for days to come, your body marked as hers. She’d collar you, her name burned into your skin, make it clear to anyone who so much as glanced at you who you belonged to.

“You are rather beautiful,” she murmured, “I can’t blame them all for wanting you.”

Your fingers clenched around nothing, hips shifting on the mattress. Straddling you, she could see the way your eyes were beginning to glaze over, lips parted as you watched her, breathing growing faster under her hands.

“Who wouldn’t want you?” she asked, still gazing down on you.

She ran her hands down your body, leaving your breasts behind. Your skin was so warm against her palms. She could spend forever touching you and it would never be enough.

“You’re entirely too temping, pet. You have no idea what you do to me,” she said.

“Agatha,” you whimpered, “please.”

“Let me taste you.”

She slipped down your body, strong hands pulling your thighs apart. You were glistening in the afternoon light, so beautiful for her, and all for her. She lingered, drinking in the moment, wanting to feel the power she held.

Burying herself between your legs, she let herself taste you. She would never grow tired of that taste, the way you always exhaled softly, the cant of your hips towards her mouth. You never made it a secret how much you wanted her, how good she made you feel, how much you desired her. Even when she wasn’t between your legs, you desired her. Every single part of her. Even the bits she wasn’t always sure about.

Her fingers dug in as she held your legs open, wider than she knew was comfortable for you, but she didn’t care. She was made to fit between them and she would do what she wanted to get closer. You let out a shuddery breath, hips bucking into her mouth.

Her tongue teased you, grin hidden when you moaned her name. If only all those other stuffy professors could see her good girl, tied up and desperate for her touch. They would be shocked how dirty you could be. That wide eyed innocence was nothing but an act and just knowing she brought out this side of you with so little work was such a turn on.

You were begging her, a constant stream of words. You were writhing against the mattress, hips pressing closer to her. Her lips wrapped around your clit, that wonderful bundle of nerves that had you turning into a babbling mess. She dragged her eyes up your body, finding you watching her already. She flushed, loving being watched by you. Your eyes were the only ones she wanted on her, and just a glance from you could turn her breathless. A lovestruck fool. That’s what you’d turned her into.

It was pathetic.

She stopped going easy on you, turning rough again. This was all your fault. You encouraged everyone to become enamoured with you. She watched the way people looked at you when you walked across campus with her. They feared her but they were drawn to you. And the worst of it was you clearly didn’t realise it.

She wanted to snarl at the crowds of people who looked at you like you were something to covet. Like they wanted you. Like they could have you.

She had to teach you to stop encouraging them.

You cried out her name and she realised without even planning it, she’d made you cum. She’d been distracted, missing it. Too bad for you. You’d just have to go again. And she wouldn’t be stopping until she’d drunk her fill.

You whimpered, straining against your bonds, but you didn’t try and get away from her. She’d trained you so well. You took everything she gave, no questions asked.

She watched the way pleasure played over your face. It was a heady feeling, knowing she was the cause of that. She gave you no time to catch your breath, wanting to watch you. She was greedy, she knew it, but why bother denying herself when she knew you weren’t going to complain. Your legs were trembling, and your breathing was unsteady.

She loved the way you moaned her name.

Your body tensed, hips rising to meet her mouth. She lapped at you, refusing to miss a drop. You whimpered, a soft mewling noise, trying to move your hips away from her. Her hands only held you tighter, bruising your pretty skin, wanting more. She always wanted more of you.

“Agatha,” you pleaded, “it’s too much.”

“It’s too much when I say it’s too much,” she said.

But, looking at your face, the way you were wriggling, the squirming, she sat back on her haunches. And even so, you made a pained noise when she stopped touching you.

You watched her as she got off the bed. Her eyes swept over your body, lingering as she thought about all the things she wanted from you. She ran her fingertips along the arch of your foot, enjoying the way you squirmed.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised.

She considered her collection of toys. She had her favourites but now it was about you. Plucking one up, she turned to you. You were watching her from under hooded eyes, hair sticking to your temple, legs pressed together again. A smirk stretched over her face.

“Come on, pet. Show me how pretty your pussy is,” she said.

You parted your legs again, welcoming her back to her rightful place. The buzz of the vibrator in her hand had your breath hitching.

“Agatha,” you said.

“I know you can do better than that. You’re usually so insatiable. Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” she tutted.

When she pressed the vibrator between your legs, a strangled groan came from your lips. Your hips were already rising to meet it, squirming as you rolled against it. She held it there, watching you rut against her like the animal you were. All those crowds of people had no idea you were such a desperate little slut. That you would do anything to get your orgasm.

That you would do anything to get her to give you an orgasm.

She lent forward, capturing one nipple between her lips. She was harsh with you, refusing to be gentle, to go easy on you. This was what you deserved, welcoming Rio into your life to flirt and stir up trouble. That woman would never do this to you. She’d make sure of it.

You were arching up into her mouth, giving her everything. There was no chance anyone else was ever going to have you like this. No one else deserved to see you like this. This was only for her.

The noise you made was music to her ears. It only made her press the toy against you harder. You were whimpering above her, shuddering, tugging on your bonds. She let her teeth sink in to your skin, tasting you, ignoring the way you whined.

Your legs were pushing together, her hand caught between them. Tutting, she sat up again. Leaving the vibrator between your legs, she shuffled down the mattress. Catching one ankle, she tugged it towards the corner of the bed, securing it in place. You were looking at her with big pleading eyes but she ignored you, doing the same with the other ankle. You were spread out for her, swollen and dripping, making a mess of the sheets.

“No point complaining now, pet. You’re the desperate little slut willing to do anything for an orgasm. I’m just giving you exactly what you want. You don’t get to decide how many you get. Just be thankful I’m so willing to indulge you,” she said.

You made such a small noise, soft and sweet and so pathetic it made her grin. She swept her fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness. Her tongue dragged up her finger before sliding it between her lips. Her other hand found the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit, harsh, unrelenting, forcing you to feel more.

Even as you made those noises your hips kept rolling against the vibrator, grinding against it. It was like you couldn’t help it. Even when it was too much you wanted more.

She wouldn’t survive losing you.

Your back arched up off the mattress, almost bowing in half. Her name was barely intelligible on your lips but she knew. You only saw her. She was the only one to you. And she was going to make sure it stayed that way.

She slipped between your legs again, needing to taste you again. You whimpered but you didn’t argue this time. You were so well trained.

She lavished attention on you, tasting deeper, her tongue teasing at your entrance. Your eyes were squeezed closed but she could see the tear slipping down into your hair.

“Come on, pet. You can give me one more, can’t you?” she asked.

You nodded your head. She sucked a bruise into the skin over your hip, knowing she’d want to see it later. Returning to your throbbing core, she let her tongue penetrate you, licking deeper. She wanted to feel it this time.

When your internal muscles clenched and you made a broken noise above her, she knew. Turning off the vibrator in her hand, she tossed it aside, pressing a chaste kiss to your swollen clit. You shifted your hips away, but it was sluggish.

She was gentle as she moved down your legs, untying you. Her hands were soft as they stroked over your skin. Pressing soft kisses to your skin, she climbed up your body. She tugged the bonds off your wrists, lowering your arms. Your wrists were rubbed raw, bruises already forming on your skin. You shuffled closer to her, boneless and graceless, letting her rub the circulation back to your hands.

“You did so well for me,” she murmured.

You mumbled something, too quiet for her to hear. She pressed kisses to the top of your head, keeping you resting against her body. Her fingers ran through your hair, untangling the knots she knew she’d caused.

“I’ll be back in a second,” she said after a while.

“‘Kay,” you said, sounding so tired.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, gazing down at you. You were so soft and malleable, worn out from everything she’d put you through. She would happily spend the rest of her life seeing you like this.

You were everything she’d ever wanted. She ached with it, how much she wanted you. Not even just sexually. It was everything about you that she wanted at all times of the day. Even the few times you weren’t with her, she missed you. It was ruining her.

You were ruining her.

With a warm flannel she cleaned you up, careful with your body. You let her, so pliable in this state. She pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, nose nuzzling at your skin. You giggled, quiet, a little slurred. She tossed the flannel aside and crawled back up to you.

Her arms curled around you, letting you sprawl over her chest. You pressed your face into the crook of her neck, your breath ghosting over her skin. She trailed her fingertips up and down your spine, feeling you melt against her.

“No one even comes close to comparing to you,” she whispered, not sure if you could hear her.

Your lips brushed against her skin and you let out a soft sigh. She tightened her arms around you, refusing to let go. You burrowed closer, needy for her. She kept pressing kisses to your hairline, listening to your breathing, stroking your skin.

“Do you really think I’m irresistible?” you asked after some time had passed.

“You have no idea,” she replied.

You made a pleased little sound, wiggling closer.

“You know it doesn’t matter because no one will ever replace you, right?” you asked.

“I know,” she said, and it was so easy to believe it.

Your head tilted up and she felt you kiss the underside of her jaw. She threaded her fingers through yours, holding your hand.

“You know, you never finished reading my palm,” she said, looking down at your joined hands.

“What?” You sounded so sweetly confused.

“You said hand shape matters. So what hand shape do I have, kitten?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter.” You tilted your chin up to look her in the face, “as long as we’re together you’re going to have a wonderful life.”

Maybe you could read the future because that sounded accurate to her. With you by her side, the future looked so much brighter than she ever could have expected. She couldn’t wait to experience it with you.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness #agatha all along

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