#give her some space. give her some breathing room

[pathologicalreid]

blue ribbon | s.r.

in which you and Spencer dedicate yourselves to helping your daughter with the best baking soda volcano the science fair has ever seen

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: chemist!reader, misuse of lab equipment i don't care, their daughter is very girly, glitter word count: 1.46k a/n: ending the post margotober drought with the very first margovember request!!! i promise i'm working on masterlists but for some reason they're exhausting.

“Why do I have to walk backward?” You grumble while trying to balance the end of the plywood on your knee, pulling at your badge reel to unlock the lab door.

Spencer nods his head in the direction of the keypad, “That would be why.”

Rolling your eyes, you push the door handle down with your elbow before pushing the door open with your foot, shuffling your feet. “Honey, can you turn the lights on?”

Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, your daughter flips all of the switches on the panel, cringing at the bright fluorescent lights.

Together, you and Spencer hoist the science project onto one of the lab tables, careful not to knock anything over as the papier-mâché volcano rests in your professional lab.

You and Leah had stayed up until eleven last night finishing the last coat of paint, even entertaining a visit from her Aunt Penelope so that the finished project could have a fine dusting of glitter all over it. Your dining room was now permanently sparkly, but the look on your daughter’s face when she saw the finished project made the mess entirely worth it.

Spencer steps to grab your jugs of white vinegar from the car, propping the door open so he can bring the supplies for the baking soda volcano in.

Obviously, you weren’t going to use the full-size volcano now, but Leah had refused to travel without it and Spencer believes that saying no to her is an impossible task. “Mommy?” The little girl pipes up, playing with the stirring rod that you had just set in front of her.

“What’s up?” You ask, leaning your hip against the counter, gently reaching out and adjusting the bows adorning her pigtails that you’d put in her hair that morning.

She looks over at the wall, minding each of the posters that line your laboratory, “What is that?”

You follow her finger to see what she’s pointing at, smiling softly, “It’s the periodic table.”

Humming thoughtfully, Leah sets the stirring rod down and walks over to the poster, “It looks like the one at home.”

Nodding, you get a step stool out for her to stand on, “They’re the same poster, the one we have at home is just a lot smaller than the one I keep at work.” You explain to her, knowing she’s talking about the poster you keep in your home office. “Come on baby, let’s go get you a lab coat.”

Setting a hand on her shoulder, you guide her to the storeroom, “Woah,” she breathes. It’s not a positive reaction, her eyes flitter all around the room, a mess of lab coats and goggles.

“Okay,” you say, shoving your way through the space until you find your locker, pulling out your lab coat, as well as safety glasses for the whole family. Holding a coat up to her and having her pull it on, you put your own lab coat on before looking back to find your five-year-old drowning in polyester. Laughing slightly, you adjust the lapels of her jacket, “How does it feel?”

Leah looks down at herself, “Cool!” She exclaims beaming up at you and giving you two thumbs up. She skips out of the closet and heads back to her volcano, almost tripping over the extra fabric of the lab coat, but Spencer grabs her arm before her knees can hit the linoleum.

He smiles at her, “Are you okay?” Helping her adjust her coat, he kneels down to her.

“Daddy,” she cheers, completely ignoring his question for the sake of being five years old, “Look at my coat!”

Smoothing her hair back, Spencer’s eyes briefly meet yours before he looks back to Leah, “You look like mommy.”

In a fit of giggles, he scoops her up in his arms in an attempt to avoid a tripping hazard, but she just thinks it’s fun. He sets her down feet-first on the step stool you had gotten out for her.

“Here,” you say, handing him a lab coat for him to wear and setting the safety goggles you’d gathered on the countertop.

When your daughter came home in tears because she felt like she had been assigned the ‘most boringest’ project for the science fair, you and Spencer quickly decided that you’d try everything to make her baking soda volcano exciting. At the very least, you’d work together to make sure she has fun.

Leah puts her goggles on and looks up at you for her next instruction, watching you divide the baking soda and white vinegar into separate beakers, “So, what will happen when we add these two together?” Spencer quizzes, watching you make careful portions.

“It’s gonna fizz up!” She responds correctly, bouncing on her feet while you gently push the first two dishes in front of her.

You nod, “You can pour the white vinegar into the baking soda,” You nudge her gently, knowing that you measured just enough to reach the top of the beaker, but not enough to flow onto the counter.

She uses both hands to grip the beaker and pour the liquid out, and the immediate reaction surprises her so much that Spencer holds an arm out to keep her upright. He trains his eyes on her amazement as the foam dissipates and the water and sodium acetate are left in the glass. “Can I drink it?” She asks, frowning up at her dad.

“No,” you both answer immediately, a sort of parental reflex. If you don’t answer quickly enough, odds are she’d pick it up and try anyway.

Disappointed, her frown remains on her face while her eyes return to the countertop, timidly, she tugs on Spencer’s lab coat, prompting him to crouch down to her eye level, “What’s wrong, lovey?”

Her eyes nervously look around the lab, eyeing some of the cabinets before she takes a deep breath, “Can we make it pink?”

“The foam?” Spencer says curiously, eyes flickering up at you while you nod frantically, already thinking up options so that you could further individualize your daughter’s glitter volcano.

She rocks back and forth, “Can we?”

As soon as Spencer says yes, it’s like a hold on you has been released, unlocking some of the cabinets so you can grab more supplies from around the lab, you return to the station with an armful of things to try, and Spencer mutters something to Leah about you being a mad scientist, leading you to maturely stick your tongue out at him.

You set up four options, taking photos as you go so you can paste them onto her presentation board. The first one is just baking soda, but you added a touch of dish soap to the vinegar. The increase in bubbles seems to greatly please Leah, so you decide as a team that the final product should have dish soap in it.

The second one has manganese sulfate mixed into the baking soda, and if the pink salt altered the color of the foam at all, it doesn’t impress your perfectionist daughter.

The third one includes phenolphthalein, which you think has some real potential, based on the way Leah’s eyes widen at the sight of it combined with the vinegar. The liquid was almost a fuchsia color, and she gasps when she pours it in to find that the foam is white, “It’s gone?”

You nod, “The phenolphthalein when it’s in the vinegar is pink because it’s an acid, but as soon as you add the baking soda it becomes a basic solution, so…” Your voice trails off when Spencer starts shaking his head, and you look down to find that you have completely lost Leah’s attention. Instead of listening, she’s trying to pronounce phenolphthalein, tracing the letters on the black countertop.

“What do you have next?” Spencer asks, eyeing the tiny dropper bottle in front of you.

Picking it up, you drop some of it into the vinegar and hand it to Leah, “It’s food coloring.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Why do you have food coloring in the lab?”

You wrinkle your nose at him, the expression makes Leah giggle, “Mind your business.”

As a family, you watch the chemical reaction, the white of the foam mixing with the red food coloring to create the desired pink lava. “Oh,” your daughter says softly, “Thank you, mommy!”

Beaming down at her, you place your hands on your hips and sigh, “If you’d like, we can add glitter to the baking soda too.”

Wide eyes look up at you in amazement, brown eyes inherited from her father, “I love science,” she whispers.

Behind her back, you hold your hand out for Spencer, exchanging a silent fist bump—a quiet celebration between two scientists.

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 9)

summary: thoughts of jack still linger, but a familiar face (and the person who's helped you get over your breakup) come to visit you and hugh - your personal trainer. meanwhile, hugh continues filming and puts on the wolverine costume for the first time. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal abuse. smut (18+, mdni) - cowgirl, unprotected p in v, oral - m receiving, dirty talk, all while hugh is in his wolverine costume, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 4k a/n: i've missed these two's personal trainer, so she's coming back and i think she's gonna be the driving force behind the reader realizing how far she's come! hope y'all enjoy, things are gonna get better... i promise. in the meantime, i've been wanting to write some smut of hugh in his wolverine costume bc i mean... how can you not??? lol. as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.

A week has passed since your run in with Jack. Hugh tries to act like nothing happened, act like what happened didn’t bother him, but he couldn’t help it. He was still fuming, still wanting so badly to just find Jack and finish what he started. He does notice a small shift in your behavior, but he has to wonder if you’re hiding the fact that you’re still on edge. There are still brief moments where you space out, like your mind has drifted to some other place and he has to gently take you out of it with a hand on your shoulder or a quiet call of your name. 

You snap out of it more quickly than before, but he can still see the panicked expression flickering in your eyes. 

Every night, you thank him and Hugh isn’t sure why. You thank him for being there for you, for being the safe space that you didn’t know you needed, for loving you the way you should be loved. 

And every night, Hugh watches you fall asleep and only when he sees the peaceful look on your sleeping face does he feel relaxed enough to go to sleep too. 

As the weekend approaches, Hugh has an idea to give both your personal trainer a call and invite her over for the week. He knows how important she is to you, how she has helped you overcome not only your breakup with Jack, but has helped you see just how amazing of a person you are. 

You’re in the bathroom when Hugh steps out on the patio of the hotel room to give her a call. She answers almost quickly and Hugh has to look over his shoulder to make sure that you haven’t come out yet. 

“Hugh, hey! How’s filming going?” she says enthusiastically. 

“It’s been going great,” Hugh answers, biting his lower lip. “How are things back home?” 

“Busy like always,” she laughs quietly. “I’ve been thinking about taking a vacation.”

“How about you come here?” 

“That’s not necessarily a vacation if I’m going there to work,” she chuckles. 

“I’ll pay for everything.”

“I mean, that’s only fair.”

Hugh laughs quietly then he lets out a quiet sigh. “Listen, Jack–”

“I know,” she interjects. “We’ve been talking this last week. Doesn’t sound like she’s doing that well.”

“I think she’s hiding the fact that she isn’t doing okay,” Hugh admits. “And I think if you’re here, she’d feel a lot better. You don’t even have to train either of us. Just– I think she needs someone more than me right now.”

“I’m there,” she responds immediately. “Tell me when, Hugh, and I’ll be there.” 

Hugh lets out a breath of relief. “Perfect. I’ll arrange everything for you and send you the details.”

After Hugh hangs up the phone, he walks back inside the hotel room and sees you come out of the bathroom in a white robe and a towel in your hands to run through your wet hair. He sees you look up at him, a small smile on your lips as he walks over to you. His hands drop to your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.

“So…” he begins.

You arch a brow, tossing the dampened towel onto the bed. You stare up at him, hands now moving to rest on his chest. “What?”

“I know what happened last week is still lingering,” Hugh continues and sees your mouth open to protest, but he shakes his head. “It’s lingering for me at least, baby.” 

“Hugh…”

“Just,” he sighs. “Hear me out. I’m flying in our trainer this week. I know that she’s been with you through everything, has helped you with this and I can’t…” Hugh bites his lower lip. “As much as I wish that I can help you, I just know that I can’t.”

“But you have…”

“But it’s not enough, love,” Hugh admits. “I know that. You know that.”

“I’m sorry…” you drift your eyes downwards, staring at your feet.

“Hey,” Hugh bites his lower lip and hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look back up at him. He can see the hurt in your eyes, the worry etched in your features. You’re thinking again and Hugh brushes his thumb gently across your jawline as he stares deeply into your eyes. “You don’t ever have to apologize for this, for him.”

“I just wish he still didn’t have so much control over me…” 

“I know, baby,” Hugh says softly. “He hurt you for a long time,” he tightens his jaw. “So the way you’re feeling… It’s completely valid.” 

“I love you,” you tell him. “I don’t think I deserve you–”

“Okay, we’re gonna stop saying that, yeah?” Hugh says with a small smile. “I feel like the luckiest man alive that you chose me, that I get to feel your love,” he admits. “So from now on, we’re going to stop saying that… because if anyone doesn’t deserve the other person, it’s me.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but he just leans in and presses his lips firmly against yours. You melt into him, hands moving from his chest to wrap around his neck. “Don’t think that kissing me is going to prevent me from saying otherwise,” you mumble against his lips.

Hugh smiles and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Fine,” he says, pulling away slowly. “How about we say that we do deserve each other?” 

You nod, playing with the hair at his nape. “Yeah, I like that a lot more.” You lean up on your toes and gently peck his lips, feeling him lift you even further until your legs wrap around his waist and he sits on the edge of the bed with you on his lap. 

“I love you, baby,” he says, moving a hand to the knot on your robe. “And I just want you happy.”

You bite your lower lip and look down at where his hand plays with the knot at your robe, feeling his length stir beneath his shorts. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admit. “And it’s because of you.”

Hugh grins and then undoes the knot on your robe, slowly pushing it off your shoulders as he watches the fabric fall from your body. He clears his throat, your entirely exposed frame now in full view for him as his gaze darkens with lust. 

“Think we can be quick about this?” he asks hopefully, feeling you slowly roll your hips against his. Hugh’s eyes gaze down between your legs, seeing your sex slicked with your arousal. 

“I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself, baby.” Hugh grunts quietly when he feels your hands tug at his shorts and he lifts himself slightly to lower it past his legs, letting it pool around his ankles. He’s already so hard at the sight of you, his tip already leaking with his precome and when he feels your hand wrap itself around his base, he lets out a loud groan.

“Shawn and Ryan can wait a little longer,” Hugh smirks, eyes fluttering when he feels you slowly lower yourself down onto him. 

—

True to Hugh’s word, your trainer arrives on set the following week. You practically run towards her in excitement (and immense relief) when you see her. Hugh’s at his trailer, leaning against the door when he sees the big smile on your face. It’s been a while since he’s seen your smile meet your eyes, pure happiness and relief written on your expression. 

You pull away from the hug and lead her to Hugh’s trailer, seeing the both of them hug as well before he lets the both of you inside. He’s not yet dressed for today’s shoot, but you can see the blue and yellow suit hanging in the corner. Today had been a day you were looking forward to because not only was your trainer going to be here, but Hugh was finally going to put on the comically-accurate Wolverine suit for the first time in over twenty years. 

“I was thinking we can all grab dinner tonight after shooting,” Hugh suggests, hand reaching out for you. You smile in his direction and take his hand, leaning against him. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a great plan,” your trainer says with a smile. 

“I usually leave earlier than Hugh, so after a few scenes, we can head back to the hotel and catch up,” you tell her.

“Perfect. I’ve already seen Hugh in his element, but to see you in yours? I’m excited.” 

“Oh, I’m nothing special–”

Both Hugh and your trainer look at you with an expression that tells you to stop the negative self-talk. You bite your lower lip and then shake your head, lifting your free hand in the air. 

“Okay, okay. I’m working on it.”

“Oh, after this week, it’s gonna be drilled into you,” your trainer chuckles. “Now come on, show me around set while Hugh gets ready.” 

You nod and then watch her leave the trailer before you turn to look up at Hugh, hand resting on his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Hugh smiles and pecks your lips. “I missed your smile,” he admits. 

You let out a quiet sigh and then look down at his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” Hugh corrects. “I just love seeing you happy, baby.” 

“You’re perfect,” you tell him with a contented sigh. “I’m thinking I don’t ever want to let you go.”

Hugh grins broadly. “Good because you’re stuck with me.” 

“Oh, you promise?” you tease.

Hugh nods, staring deeply into your eyes. “More than you know, love. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

—

You give a thorough tour of the set, but you can tell from the look on your trainer’s face that she’s waiting for you to bring up Jack, to bring up what exactly happened, and how he even came back into your life. 

You know you’ve come a long way from the first time you met her, but you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed in yourself… that all of the hard work that your trainer helped you with seems to have gone to waste at the first conversation with Jack. 

“He called me after he found out that Hugh and I were together,” you finally admit. “I’m assuming it had to do with Hugh posting a picture of us and then word got out and–” you sigh shakily. “Well, you can figure out the rest.” 

“What an asshole,” she mutters. “I’m sorry you still have to deal with him,” she says softly. 

“I just feel–” you sigh. “I feel like I’m the same woman I was when I was with him. A coward. Weak.” 

“That’s not a reflection of who you are as a person,” she replies. “You were never a coward and you were never weak.” 

“But–”

“Jack was abusive,” she says bluntly. “Verbally abusive… and he took advantage of you. And he’s still trying to do that, but there’s a big difference from the woman you were to the woman you are now.” 

“And what’s that? Because from where I’m standing, I feel like I’m back to square one.” 

She sighs. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” 

You shrug. “I just wish I never got Hugh involved.” 

“You didn’t do anything,” she corrects. “You deserve to be happy and Jack doesn’t like that. He doesn’t have a right to tell you who you are – he never did, do you understand me?” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you look at her. She had become the person to help you out of your negative thoughts and you knew that if not for her, you’d have been stuck in the same mindset that Jack made you to believe about yourself. 

“I really missed you,” you tell her, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug.

“Even my workouts?” 

“Ah, maybe not that,” you tease, pulling away from her with a small smile as you wipe your tears away. 

“Well, I’m sure we can squeeze one in this week,” she winks. 

“Thank you,” you say seriously. “For being here.”

“Thank Hugh,” she chuckles. “He just wants you to be happy.���

You smile to yourself. “When you texted me telling me about having someone join in our sessions all those months ago… Did you know that we would hit it off?”

She grins mischievously. “I knew you two would hit it off, but I certainly didn’t expect you both to get together so fast.”

“Oh my god, you set us up.”

She bursts into a fit of laughter. “Guilty as charged.”

You shake your head and begin laughing with her, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like you can finally breathe again after everything that’s happened with Jack. 

—

After a couple of hours, your trainer decides to leave for the day and get some rest at the hotel before dinner tonight. You opt to remain on set, not having had the chance to see Hugh yet. It’s lunch time for the entire cast and crew, so you walk towards his trailer and step inside, removing the camera from around your neck to set on the table. 

When you turn around to see him dressed in his full Wolverine suit, sitting on the couch with a bowl of salad, you widen your eyes and clear your throat at the sight of him. He has a big grin on his face and waves in your direction, but you can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. 

The suit is so fitting – sculpting to his entire body, but your eyes deviate to his arms, seeing his muscles flex from beneath the suit as he takes another forkful of spinach. 

“You’re–” you bite your lower lip. “You’re wearing the suit.”

“I am,” he chuckles and sets the bowl down onto the table nearby before he stands up. 

Your eyes widen even further at the sight of him standing in his suit in front of you. You know you’re obviously ogling him, eyes lingering in certain areas and Hugh’s enjoying it. He likes the way you look at him, especially right now. You look like a woman who knows what she wants and he can see the gaze in your eyes darkening. 

“You look–” you stutter. “You look good. Like really fucking good.” 

“Is this everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” he teases, his large hand coming to rest on your waist. “You know, with Wolverine being your favorite and all.” 

The contrast of him wearing this suit and his accent is doing things to you that you never thought it would. You can feel the wetness build between your legs, the throbbing and yearning to clamp around him. You can’t even respond, your eyes moving continuously up and down his frame. He looks so big, so strong, and–

“Hello?” Hugh interrupts your thoughts, chuckling quietly. “Do you like it?” 

“Like it?” you answer, hands moving to rest on his chest as you gently shove him back down on the couch. “I fucking love it.” 

Without hesitation, you drop to your knees in front of him as your hands move up his thighs and towards the waistband of his pants. You bite your lower lip, tilting your head as you try to figure out how to remove his pants and letting out a quiet huff of impatience when you can’t seem to find the zipper or button or anything to pull it down and reveal his hardening length. 

Even beneath the fabric of his suit, you can see the length of him, stirring and hardening as you run your palm over him. 

Hugh groans, head tilting to the side as he reaches down to cup your cheek. “Baby, I don’t–”

“Help me figure out how to take these pants off.”

“Baby,” he grunts, feeling your lips press against his manhood from over the fabric of his suit. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, his length straining beneath the fabric and he groans when he feels your lips find his covered tip. 

“Hugh,” you whimper impatiently. “I need you.”

Hugh nods and then stands up in front of you, looking down at you as you remain on your knees. He expertly undoes his pants, knowing that it’s going to be just as difficult to put back on, but at the sight of you so needy and ready for him, he knows it’ll be worth it. 

Hugh then drops his pants to pool around his ankles and he’s about to sit back down when he feels your hands wrap around his base and your mouth immediately wrap itself around his tip. He groans, eyes fluttering shut as he tangles one hand in your hair and remains standing before you. 

You feel a sudden sense of gratitude wash over you, wanting to show Hugh just how grateful you are of him. How patient and thoughtful he’s been these last few weeks. You lean in further, relaxing your throat as you feel the tip of his manhood kiss the back of your throat. The hair at his base tickles your nose and you feel tears sting your eyes as you look up at him, his face contorted into pleasure. You pull back enough, his length glistening with your saliva.

“Fuck,” he growls lowly, his grip in your hair tightening even further as you continue to bob your head rapidly. It’s almost obscene the way you’re sucking him off, like you’re a starved animal and this is your first meal. Hugh can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with each of your strokes, with each inch sliding further and further into your mouth that he has to pull back from your lips with a quiet pop!. 

Your lips are red and slightly swollen, saliva dripping just a bit at the corner of your lips. You’re staring up at him with a lustful look on your face and he’s about to say something, about to tell you that he’s getting close, but you interrupt him with a shove against his chest to make him sit back down on the couch. 

He clears his throat, watching you drop your pants and underwear to the floor. He reaches down to stroke himself, eyes taking in your exposed lower half. Hugh groans in anticipation when he watches you straddle his hips and align yourself to his tip. 

You waste no time (like you usually do) in sitting firmly on his erected length. You don’t take your time, you don’t slowly lower yourself. Instead, you lower yourself until he fills you to the hilt and Hugh tosses his head back at the sensation of your warm and wet walls clamping down on his already throbbing length. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Hugh groans, hands darting out to your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. 

“Call me bub,” you demand, hands moving to rest on his shoulders as you bounce along his length. “Please, Hugh…”

Hugh grunts, feeling every inch of your walls slide along him. He knows what you want, so he switches the flip inside of him and stares at you with a dark look on his face. He lets out a low growl – the way Logan would – and leans in to rest his forehead against yours, having long forgotten his normal Australian accent to replace with Logan’s.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, bub,” he groans. “Taking me so well.” 

Your eyes widen and your walls clench at the role that Hugh is now playing. When he sees the look on your face, he smirks and digs his fingertips even further into you, knowing that it’s going to leave bruises later. “Oh god…” you moan, biting your lower lip from trying to let everyone else on the lot hear what’s going on.

“Yeah?” he growls, moving a hand to your clit and beginning to rub it in circles. “Such a good girl. Look at you,” Hugh groans, feeling himself get closer and closer. “Oh bub,” he continues. “You’re close, ain’t ya? Can feel you tremble…”

“Hugh!” you exclaim, rolling your hips forward and backwards as your walls tighten even further around him. You reach your high far too quickly and feel him continue to rub circles against your clit, your body shaking as you try to reach down for his wrist to stop his movements. 

“That’s a good girl,” Hugh grins. He knows that he’s stronger than you, but he loves seeing you try. Loves to see your body become so overly sensitive that you begin to squirm away from him, unsure if you can reach another orgasm. 

“Hugh… Baby, I can’t–”

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning in to gently bite at your jawline as he thrusts his hips up roughly and rapidly. His balls slap against your backside, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls of his trailer as he feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build and build–

“Fuck!” he groans, moving both hands now to your hips as he paints your walls with his come. Hugh’s eyes fall shut tightly, slowly guiding you along his length as he shudders at your tight walls milking every last drop. 

Slowly, Hugh lifts you off his lap and you quickly scramble to sit next to him, not wanting any of his come to get on the suit. You lean back against the couch, legs still spread open as Hugh looks down at you and sees his release slowly trickle out of you. 

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” he says, his voice back to normal as he watches groans at the sight of his come now trickling between your legs. 

“That was hot,” you smile, breathing heavily. 

“You’re hot,” he grins, reaching for a tissue to first clean you up and then to clean himself. Once he’s softened enough, Hugh pulls up his pants and then grabs your panties and jeans to gently hand it to you. “I’m going to have to film for the rest of the day after that?”

You bite your lower lip and slide on your panties. You sit on your knees and lean in to gently peck his lips. “And then we also have dinner tonight.”

He groans and runs his hand along your bare thigh. “How am I going to pay attention after you attacked me like that?” 

You gasp and gently slap his chest, feeling him take your hand and kiss your knuckles. “I did not attack you!” 

“Oh, the minute you saw me in this suit, you were already undressing me with your eyes.”

“Not my fault you look so hot in it.”

“Should I take it back with me to the hotel?” he grins, eyes wiggling suggestively. 

“If you bring it back to the hotel with you, we’re never leaving.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes,” you giggle. “You still have a movie to shoot.”

Hugh sighs dramatically. “I suppose you have a point.” 

You let out a laugh and Hugh smiles in your direction. “I’ve missed your laugh too,” he says quietly. 

You look up at him and cup his cheek, eyes staring into his own. “I’m not gonna let that man control me anymore,” you admit. “It’s going to be tough, but I–”

“You’re stronger than you know, baby,” Hugh finishes for you. “And I’ll be right there to help you through it. As long as you’ll have me.” 

“Wear the suit and then maybe I’ll consider,” you tease. 

Hugh chuckles and gently pushes you onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Hugh.”

“Do you think you have one more in you?” he asks, eyes dark with lust once more as he moves a hand between your legs. 

“I don’t–” you gasp when you feel him move your panties to the side and slide a finger past your depths. He can feel his spend inside of you and it makes him growl. 

“Lunch is almost over, Hugh…” you whimper.

“I know. Let me have my dessert, baby.” Hugh grins and then lowers his head between your legs.

---

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@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 3 | Skin Deep Scars

summary: you’ve been born into a rich controlling family, always having to stay on top and never cross the line. You tried to please your mother but never could be enough for your mother’s standards, your father was mostly at work and away at business trips so both of you hardly ever interacted with each other. That’s until you got into an argument about your new friend chris who was the polar opposite of you, what do you think will happen next?

warnings: ANGST, !parental abuse!, arguing (again ik), family issues, swearing, manipulation, controlling mother figure, !burning skin!, slight fighting, crying, !mentions of childhood trauma! And this contains sensitive topics for many (even me) so please I advice to read this with caution and knowingly what you’re consuming.

authors note: day 3 is behind us now, thank yall so much for all of the love on the past fics I seriously rlly appreciate it. Yall can drop some ideas for future days and fics outside of this in my inbox and I’ll be happy to write them, I don’t have my computer with me rn so I’ll make the gradient text when I’m at my computer again, hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

Escalated screams and yells fill the large space of the room, making my ears want to fall off as foul words continue to fall from my mother’s mouth. It’s not the first time my mother has yelled at me for the most stupidest bullshit ever known to mankind and this is one of them, somehow it never turned psychical between us which could be a shocker for some of the others considering how loud she is screaming and shouting that you would think she’d hit me by now or at least threaten to.

“You are bringing such shame to this family! It’s unacceptable!” She shouts, her face contoured with pure anger. I might as well see smoke coming out of her ears by now, rolling my eyes as I feel my own anger rise inside of me at how ridiculous she is being right now. “I bring shame? What about you sleeping around behind dad’s back, huh?” I argue back, not letting her bring me down and standing my ground. She gasps dramatically as if I insulted her whole bloodline, pressing her hand to her chest to make her seem more like a victim.

“Don’t you dare speak of that! This isn’t about my mistakes, it’s about yours!” She attempts to defend her name but fails miserably, thinking if she raises her voice higher than me she’ll have the high ground and take the upper hand in this argument. “You’re the one that’s hanging out with that street rat and even dare to invite him to this house!” My blood boils to high temperatures at her insult targeted towards Chris, well she isn’t very fond of him and his lifestyle or he of how she treats me from all of the stories I’ve previously told him.

Summarizing that thought, their hatred is mutual towards themselves. “Don’t bring him into this, he has nothing to do with this! It was one lower grade, mom!” I yell defensively, the level of my irritation rising with each second of just breathing in the tense air in the room. “That he caused by the influence he has on you! I just want the best for you, honey.” She tries to twist her tone into a softer one but I can feel the fakeness radiating off it the minute it comes past her lips, how pathetic.

“You aren’t convincing anyone with that fake tone, that’s for sure.” I state annoyingly as she attempts to move closer to me but when she sees me backing away she just gives up with trying to convince me into doing anything she wants with the same old method and decides on a newly invented one. “Fine, maybe I wont convince you at least but your father is pretty gullible and he’ll do anything I ask him to do. Even if i feed him a couple lies involving you and that little skank.”

I narrow my eyes at her, not believing her words at first until she shoots me a specific look which informs me she isn’t playing around, raising her eyebrow and slightly dipping her chin just always has her whole bitchy personality written all over her face in that moment. My face normally would drop in color but at this point I didn’t care, she brought Chris into this who has nothing to do with this and shouldn’t be assumed as the cause of my lower grade. It was one of the hardest exams this semester and even when I studied harder than ever and got the highest grade in my class, she still doesn’t appreciate my hard work.

My head decides its the perfect time to bring up the first time I got a lower grade, being only at the age as young as seven she was already pressuring me into being perfect and didn’t even allow me to have a normal childhood only filling me with more work and mental pressure I often was too tired to do anything the next morning after studying all night in hopes to attempt to please my mother but no matter what I did, she never fully appreciated it and always found something bad to point out.

Start of Flashback

I excitedly run into the living room with my test clutched in my head, my dress flowing in the slight breeze coming from the window. A proud smile spread on my face as I reach the living room where mommy resided in sitting on the couch, holding up my paper for her vision to see the teachers red mark saying ‘79/100’ in the corner of the paper. “Look mommy, my teacher said I got the highest grade in my class on the test!” I exclaim proudly, waiting for my applause but was met with silence. Tilting my head to the side to glance at my mommy confused on why she is quiet but she had only a disgusted and an unimpressed look shadowing her face.

She notices my confused expression and finally speaks, turning her head away from me and back at the tv “Honey, that’s not good enough for this family. Study harder next time.” She states without any sympathy in her voice as she goes back to her activity like nothing happened, my eyes slightly start to water. Why am I not good enough for mommy? Why isn’t mommy proud of me and saying nice words like my teacher was? My arms drop down to my sides with the paper still clutched in my small arms.

“What do you mean, mommy?” I ask curiously, my voice becoming slight wobbly as shaky breaths enter an exit past my lips. “My teacher said I did great and even gave me a lollipop!” I add, now my sadness being evident and that’s when mommy looked at me and sees me upset. “Oh baby, you know what I told you about eating too much sweets. And a 76 isn’t high enough for the reputation our family has.” She says in a reassuring voice, seeming as if she wanted the best for me and me being the gullible and innocent child, not realizing she’s manipulating me into doing whatever her heart desired and shaping me into a perfect little toy to play in her game.

“I just want the best for you honey and you know that, I would never do anything to hurt you, ever.” She calmly assured in a soft tone, she walks over to me and wipes my tear-stained cheek with her thumb and looks at me with fake sympathy mixed with fake remorse. “Now go to your room and study for the next test, mommy has to go attend to some things, okay?” I nod my head yes and ran off into my room, the paper flying out of my hand and landing in the floor. My body immediately jumping onto my bed and bury my face into the nearby pillow as I clutch my favorite stuffed animal to my chest…

End of Flashback

I remember crying the rest of the night and thought it was normal and everyone’s mother was pressuring them into being better than every other kid and always perfect to upkeep the family’s ‘perfect’ reputation. Now that I’ve grown up and caught onto my mother’s manipulative acts, letting me have the upper hand in some regards. “You’re pure goddamn evil, I can’t believe you’re trying to scare me with dad out of all people.” I huff, feeling my body become more tense by the second before adding. “Better than one of the guys you cheated on dad with.” After the words leave my mouth, she immediately darts towards me and gets impossibly closer to my face. Glaring at me as if she wanted to strangle the shit out of me.

“I said, don’t you dare bring that into this situation, young lady!” She warns, her voice completely shifting from fake sympathy to rage and evilness. One of her hands raises and she sticks out her finger, getting it in my face as if to try and scare me further but I only laugh in her face. “One more word out of your mouth and I make one call to your father, singing like a bird to him about all of the things you’ve said to your own mother.” She wipes imaginary tears off from under her eyes, pretending to be upset and hurt as if she’s the victim here. “You’re such an ungrateful brat, I’m surprised we haven’t kicked you out the house yet. You always disappoint us and bring total shame to the family.”

An evil laugh rumbles in her throat, I don’t see her as a loving mother I thought I had. No, I see her as the worst and most controlling mother ever known to mankind and I feel ashamed being in the proximity of her and letting her walk all over me like a doormat. She takes a few steps back and finally puts some distance between our bodies, I sharply inhale the tense air surrounding us as the following words fall from her mouth that I was just waiting for her to speak.

“I regret you were even born, more with every passing minute. Me and your father never wanted a girl, but a boy and at one point were debating to put you in an orphanage or give you away, another decision I regret making.”

Before my mother could say another word, I deliver a slap across her face and throw the words out of her mouth. She looks up at me, completely livid and fet up with this little cat fight between us. “That’s it, you’re getting punished hardly this time.” She angrily exclaims and roughly grasps my arm, dragging me into the kitchen by pure mad force. I try to escape her vice grip but it only makes it tighter, the feeling of pain and a bruise coming in spreads across my whole body as I see her walking towards the stove.

I start to get more desperate to escape, almost beginning to scream for her to stop and don’t do what I know she’s about to do. She did it before when I talked back to her ever and looks like today her strings popped too much, we get to the stove and she ticks it on, the flame blooming to life as she forces my arm above it. “Please, mom dont do this…” I weakly plead as the burning sensation starts to hit my skin, spreading across my whole arm. I cry out in pain and pleads for her to stop, quiet curses falling from my lips as she only glances at me sternly. Tears prick my eyes and burn down my cheeks, she continues to hold my arm over the flames and brings it closer.

My body starts squiring around, my pleads getting more and more desperate as more tears fall from my eyes. “Stop! Please, mom I’m begging you stop!” Shaky breaths fill the air and accompany the growing cries and pleads to my mother. “Stop moving around, you brat! Are you going to still be disobedient towards me now?” She asks mockingly as I think she’s going to burn my skin off, someone pushes her off me and I immediately fall to the ground in pure agony. The uncontrollable cries continuing to fall from my mouth, my eyes landing on the severe burn mark left behind on my arm, my eyes start to burn themselves from the amount of tears filling them at once

“What in the actual fuck is happening here?” I hear a familiar voice yell out as I don’t think about who it could be until they kneel down next to me and I realize it’s Chris, I forgot I invited him over today. I can’t believe he’s seeing me in this state right now, he glances at my arm and immediately grasps it gently into his hands. “Jesus Christ, we need to get you some serious help, cmon we gotta go to the hospital.” He calls out and helps me get up and stand on my feet, rushing me out of the house and looking around for something to quickly get me where I severely need to be right now. “You got a private driver here somewhere?” He questions and I nod negatively, there aren’t any available unless you ask for one beforehand.

‘Fuck, umm- okay then let’s just take.. your car!” He exclaims nervously, pointing towards one of the cars in the driveway. Quickly running over to it and rushing me inside of it, getting into the drivers seat and trying to start the car. When he finally gets a hang of the functioning of the car he quickly presses down on the gas and speeds out of the driveway and towards the hospital…

Guestlist!

| - @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - |

[lilpotatjj]

Couldn't wait to write it all down. Our sweetheart Cait became emotional after taking off her wig for the last time. And we all ken that there's only one person she gets the comfort right? Here ye go (it's a wee bit longer as I thought..should I be sorry?..nae ;) )

Warning: sweet comfort and some sadness and a wee bit of drama. And a Sam that is so in scots character 😂👀

One last time

There it lay...a simple scrap of hair. Simple? It was anything but simple. This wig was a part of her existence, her life. It had been with her for eleven years and it was hard to believe that this was the last time it would be taken off. She tried to pull herself together and put the mobile aside, the tears still in her eyes. Recorded for eternity and for those who made it possible to embody Claire Fraser for so long. The fans. She looked silently into the mirror and suppressed a small sob as she fixed the rest of her own hair. Sam hadn't finished when she got up and left the trailer quietly and without a word. He looked after her anxiously and thoughtfully, oblivious to the fact that he had unfamiliar hands halfway down his face. A smile, a small and heavy smile was on her face as she left and she tried to keep her composure. She always did. Pretending to be strong and trying to look professional, which she usually managed quite well, but...not today.

When Sam had finished, he stood up in a flash, like a horse just waiting to race to the starting line. He came out and looked around. There were other smaller trailers everywhere. It was already starting to get dark and the whole set was in an after-work mood. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. Sam walked slowly through the various crowds. Cait had been tense all day, then the photo for 'The Last Wrap'. She didn't have a single second to herself. He kept getting a hand slapped on his shoulder or back as a sign of excellent work and gratitude, but he hardly bothered to respond. Here and there a small nod of thanks and a smile as he meandered past the people.

He couldn't find her, not even in her trailer. He decided to go into the hall to the set and bumped into Sophie. "Have you seen Cait?" he asked her, unconsciously worried.

"Sam! Ah...yes, she was walking towards Lallybroch's set" she said, adding "Are you coming to the bar for drinks tonight too?"

He raised his hand in thanks and nodded, but left without saying anything to Sophie's astonishment.

"Okay?" she mumbled quietly, shrugging her shoulders as she left too.

A huge room with green and blue screens opened up to him as he entered. Parts of masonry could be seen. Lallybroch. The heart of the set. There she stood in the middle of the walls. He went to her and gave her space, standing a little apart behind her to enjoy the silence with her. It's so ironic, the usually loud hustle and bustle of the set during filming was stifled. You'd think no one had been here for centuries, as if only ghosts were wandering around. She didn't move, although she knew it was Sam standing with her. She could feel his aura very clearly, the same as every day. It could have been anyone, but she would recognize his from thousands.

He finally came a little closer to her, stood close behind her and followed her gaze across the huge set. She wiped her face, not turning an inch. She knew that if she did that now, the dam of her whole frame would break. The actually positive advantage of being able to let herself go with him and only him. But now she felt it was a weakness. She didn't want to cry, not over something so trivial. That's what she thought. Sam took a quiet breath and cleared his throat. He knows her and knows that it's better not to push her now. She'll come to him when she needs him, just like always.

"The others want to go partying, have a drink. Are you coming?" He asked carefully to give her room to breathe. "Of course!" she sounded completely normal as she turned to him. There it was, the smile that could have melted him, but... it had a bitter aftertaste. "Let's go, I want to freshen up quickly and then we can go," she said, playing relaxed. Yes...acting, but she can't do that to him. If anyone could keep their composure, it was Sam. Not Cait. She was Claire through and through when it came to interpreting emotions, she couldn't lie. In front of anyone else...but not in front of him.

He followed her to the trailer and didn't bother to wait outside. He didn't care what anyone else on the set thought. He had to stay with her now, make sure he was there at all times. After all these years, he just wanted to think about her and not worry about what others were saying or thinking about either of them. Cait looked at him in surprise for a moment, hesitantly closed the door and followed Sam with her gaze, who simply sat down on one of the small benches and stared out of the window. She paused briefly, then went to change her clothes and freshen up, only to stand in front of him ten minutes later, ready to go. He stood up and grinned at the sight of her. "You're far too pretty for tonight my dear" he said more proudly than jealously. She smiled sweetly at him and studied him silently for a moment, giving him a kiss on the cheek. It was breathy, almost apologetic, which was why he scanned her curiously.

"We should go before I change my mind mo chridhe" She giggled affectionately at his words and they both left the trailer.

When they arrived at the bar, they joined the others. There were quite a few of them. Sophie, Richard, Lauren, John and César were also there. When they arrived at the table, the others cheered them loudly, glasses were raised and everyone roared. Sam laughed contentedly, gently placed his hand on Caits back and took one of the whisky glasses to clink glasses. Cait gave Sophie a hug and took a glass too.

"Slainte!" the Scot called out loudly and everyone joined in. with one big draught, almost everyone drank the glass empty together while the music played loudly in the background. "So James Fraser!" said Sophie and continued with a smile. "Let you and your Sassenach celebrate hard today!"

His face lit up with joy and he raised his newly refilled whisky glass. "Not just me, but my wonderful partner Cait, as well as all of you!" They raised their glasses again, but at Sam's words, the Irishwoman stared at him silently for a moment, then drained her glass in one go, which Sam just looked at silently. They all talked about the wonderful memories of the last eleven years. Everyone had a lot to say, except Cait, who was quite silent. Had agreed here and there or made a quick comment. Richard was in his own world, having another drink.

As Cait poured herself her 5th glass, the Scot stopped her without thinking. "Ok, slow down babe the evening is still young" She looked at him in disbelief. He knows what her limit is, but she didn't really care at the moment. Fully focused on Cait, Sam didn't notice the looks from the others, which he had caught with her nickname.

Now it was Richard who interrupted the tension and drew the puzzled looks when he distracted the group with a question.

"Do you have any ideas or other projects for the future?" Everyone joined in and suggested ideas or said no, including Cait. "I'm sure it won't be easy to switch off Claire after all this time. But you have so much talent, you could play anything," Sophie said without thinking and received a serious look from the Irishwoman for this statement. Cait stood up and politely excused herself, all eyes fixed on her. Sam did the same and rose to follow her. She went out into the fresh air, breathing faster, doing her best not to lose her composure completely now. Sam came out to her and saw her pacing back and forth, slightly upset and with tears in her eyes. He stood there, still hesitating, he knew her.

"Do you want to go?" he asked calmly and she looked to him for help. That was the hint. He went to her, took her in his arms and simply held her tightly. "We're going..." he whispered softly and lovingly and she just nodded silently, hiding her face in his chest. Sam gave her time and gently hugged her tighter, then took her to his car. Thank God he only had two whiskies.

"I'll let the others know," came from him briefly and as quickly as he was in, he was out again. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking at him apologetically as he got behind the wheel. "You don't have to look like that, it's all right. The others are having fun without us," he said in his soft voice, but she looked out of the window briefly as he started the engine. "That's not it. I didn't want to ruin your evening," she said, again with an innocent look. Sam snorted in amusement. "Cait as long as I'm with you every night is saved" he spoke seriously and smiled sincerely at her. "I just need you mo chridhe"

She gave him a wistful smile, she was happy. He stroked her chin and smiled at her with his typical wide grin. "And now let's check into the hotel" he drove off, concentrating on the road and sensing that Cait was still tense.

When he arrived, he looked at her quietly.

"So Claire Fraser" he rolled the 'R' especially and started speaking in Jamie's accent. God she loved his Scottish accent, but it's exactly what her heart doesn't want to hear right now. Cait ignored him and fussed with her hair. "Ye cannae hold it in forever," he said, letting Jamie hang out in full conversational tone. "Stop it Sam, we're not on set anymore," she said annoyed and snappy. He raised his typical eyebrow and walked slowly towards her. "it winnae get any better if ye dinnae let it out...~Claire~!" He emphasized the name of her second life again and made zero effort to stop. She turned to him and scowled. "You're not Jamie!" she commanded rather than saying it. "hm.. nae?" he couldn't ask more Scottishly and grabbed her arm, gently but firmly. "Cait, we've lived these roles for eleven years, they're a part of us and they'll be a part of us forever!" he said sternly, not even thinking about locking the Jamie inside him away. "But it's over now, damn it!" she hissed and tried to pull away. He was beginning to feel like he was filming a scene on set with Claire rather than arguing with Cait herself. She finally clung to him as she gave up. She knew he was right... right from the beginning. But the painful thought that it's over forever is too great.

At last he had her where he wanted her. She could no longer hold back the tears and hid her face in his chest while he held her and stroked her head. The Scotsman gave her a gentle kiss on the head every now and then. It took a while before she finally calmed down. She swallowed it for too long and didn't let it out. Otherwise so tough, it's still not such an easy path. After all, it is the goal that has been irrevocably achieved.

Eleven years of hard work and so many memories. The fact that she had met and fallen in love with her husband there weighed deeply. He picked her up bridal style and carried her to the couch in the room. "It's okay my love...I'm so proud of you. You've done such a great job all these years" she laid her head on his lap. "That's what the right person says...without you, the show would only be half as good!" she said with charming sweet but tired smile and grabbed his chin with his slight beard stubble.

He returned her smile just as lovingly, leaned down and gave her a kiss on the lips. "It doesn't matter what the future holds for us, as long as we're together I don't care," he couldn't say it any sweeter and stroked her silky, dark hair lovingly. She just looked at him in love, the blush on her face full of happiness to have him with her.

"Do you want to watch something?" he asked and she nodded silently. Sam switched on the TV and pulled her closer to him. "My Sassenach," he said quietly and proudly.

"My red-haired, stubborn and hot-headed Highlander"

[yallthemwitches]

The Storm, The Aftermath

A smutty, fluffy continuation of my jilytober fic 'The Storm' ( Rated T: Link Here) though it is not necessary to read them together. Also a portion of this is based off a @blvnk-art comic which I posted previously.

NSFW Warning! AO3 Here

“James…” Lily watches him from the bed, his shoulders tight, hands moving flustered as they search for some unknown item of clothing. Even from behind she can tell he is trying to regulate his breathing.  “James,” she repeats, taking a small pause, “I wasn’t planning on needing anything to sleep in.”  She feels her whole face flush.. If implications were heavy before, all nuance is now thrown out into the storm. 

“If your mum or dad ask, we fell asleep working on the assignment,” Lily murmurs, a hand curling deep into his hair while the other brushes a thumb over his bottom lip. 

“Right…assignment.” He pushes their bodies flush together and propels them backwards towards the open door to his room. His teeth nip at her thumb, sending her nervous system rampant.

“We can say I suggested we keep at it—you know, since I had to stay the night anyhow.” Her voice turns into a sigh as James skims his teeth against her cheek, grazing to her chin with an open mouth.

“Had to,” he teases, eyes fighting to stay open. His hands find where her shirt allows entrance to the skin underneath and he presses in. 

“Plus,” she sighs at the feel of his rough hands on her back, “ I didn’t quite like the look of the guest bedroom anyhow—too sterile.” 

"Are you calling my room dirty, Evans? How rude.” 

Their bodies push their way into the open door. Despite the efforts of his hands to erase all thought, Lily can’t help but relish in entering his personal space. It’s a rarity—she has seen his four poster bed back at school in fleeting moments from before they started hooking up, but even then that was a shared living space, marked by other boys past and present. This was his territory, completely unfiltered by anyone but himself. 

He makes a small noise of dissent as she untangles herself to get a better look at the room: his broom leans against a much too large mahogany bed and the static eyes of The Beatles stare back from the walls while quidditch heroes zoom across posters. Books are stacked on the floor at the bedside and a large bay window opens out to the gardens next to the house, now darkened by the incoming storm.  

With a shot of confidence, Lily turns to give  him a coy smile before bounding over to the foot of the bed, taking a seat on the edge. James watches her go, barely capable of keeping his jaw from unhinging as his heart rattles in his chest.

“Nice room Potter.” She leans back on her hands. The bedding feels expensive, higher quality than the stuff at Hogwarts and certainly the ones she has back in her room in Cokeworth. She imagines James curled underneath it, lying awake before another day of messing around with Sirius or practicing quidditch out in the field which flanks the Potter Estate, maybe just maybe also thinking of her…

They watch each other for a moment, sizing up the scenario. The wind from the snowstorm rattles the window, serving as a gentle reminder that they aren’t suspended outside of reality. It has been months since they started snogging in secret, but it isn’t until this moment they have actually achieved true, comfortable solitude. 

It’s an understatement to say that James can feel the implications of her presence. His whole body is burdened by the fact— years of imagining her sitting exactly where she is now are catching up to him, mixing with all the other fantasies that include words such as Lily, bed, and alone. She watches him with a smirk as he fiddles with the ends of his hair, shifting his weight to hide the feeling of arousal taking over despite his best efforts. 

“Uh…let me find you something to sleep in–” he says, becoming red around the cheeks. He turns towards an ornate dresser against the side wall and rips open a drawer, sticking his hand in to fish through the fabric before closing it and repeating with another. 

“James…” Lily watches him from the bed, his shoulders tight, hands moving flustered as they search for some unknown item of clothing. Even from behind she can tell he is trying to regulate his breathing. 

“James,” she repeats, taking a small pause, “I wasn’t planning on needing anything to sleep in.” 

She feels her whole face flush. If implications were heavy before, all nuance is now thrown out into the storm. 

“Oh?” His hands tighten around the knobs. The wood groans underneath and he grips onto it as though it is the only thing holding him back from lunging at her. He turns around slowly, eyes burning with something feral and raw.

“Yeah.” 

Her thoughts scramble as he takes slow steps towards her and she knows she is too close already to drowning in him. The smell of his room, the feel of his bed, him looking at her with that stare and hands capable of completely unwinding her—she doesn’t want to give in. She was the one who planned this all out, not him. She can’t let him take over so easily. 

He stands in front of her and lets his fingers skim across the tops of her shoulders, eyes searching her face. She takes a breath, mustering months worth of desire into one single moment of bravery. She reaches for his belt. 

It isn’t something they haven’t done before, but it feels reckless out of the context of fumbling moments in broom closets. James lets out a strained breath, eyes fluttering closed with his fingers now pressing into her shoulders, willing her to not move from against him. 

“Is this ok?” 

He responds with a groan as her other hand slides over the bulge that appeared long before they had entered the room. She can feel how turned on he is already, and it occurs to her that this is the first time they have ever been able to fully explore each other with the patience and dedication they deserve. 

“More than ok—-eons better than ok.” His eyes are glassy and wide, watching her like someone in the midst of sleepwalking. 

“And you don’t think your parents will—”

“Evans.” James groans out, “Can we not talk about my parents at a time like this.” He makes a small choking sound when her hand adds more pressure. “They never come over to this part of the house anyways.”

It isn’t the most satisfying answer, but she is in no state to complain. Moving her fingers around him, she feels every hard line of his erection straining into the fabric. She stares up at him with wonder as his face changes with her movements, his heart visibility erratic. She has to admit, it feels powerful to be like this—to watch as his jaw drops open and breath goes ragged and deep just by her fingers on trousers alone. 

“I have to admit something to you,” she murmurs, her other hand still working on his belt, “I didn’t want to come to your house just for the assignment.”

He lets out a strangled laugh and tries to help her with his belt but she swats him away. 

“I figured when you lied to our parents about needing to stay over,” he mumbles, eyes fighting to stay open. “Though I’m very interested in what excuse you would have come up with if there hadn’t already been a storm coming–”

His breath hitches as she gets his belt and pants undone, hand now edging around the waistband of his underpants.

“That's the thing-” his skin feels scorching under her hand as it dips farther down, slowly crawling to the base of his erection, “I planned to come today, because of the storm.”

She wraps her palm around him and he hisses, body arching forward as she gives him a small tug. They have only done this a number of times, but he always reacts in the same way: like his soul is leaving his body for some greater plane of consciousness. 

“Didn’t realize you had it in you,” he groans out, hands finding her neck and thumbs rubbing circles there.

“What?”

“Mischief.”

She pumps up his length and he lets out a soft string of swear words. 

“What can I say, you’ve been a bad influence.”

She lets him go and he gasps in disappointment. Flashing a smile, she pushes herself farther up the bed until she reaches the headboard. He crawls after her, reaching her legs and pulling them apart at the knees, easily flipping up the skirt that has pooled down by her waist. Looking up at her through skewed glasses, he begins dotting kisses into her inner thigh, each one more lavish than the next. 

“So what did you plan to do Miss Evans? Seeing as this is all your orchestration?”

She doesn’t answer, instead melting under the heat of his mouth. He is relentless, giving open kisses up her thighs, letting his tongue slide over her skin as he goes. She isn’t used to being able to watch him do it—more attuned to the dark shadows of shifting bodies against boxes of cleaning supplies. Here, she can clearly watch every movement, finally putting a visual to the sensation.

“Sleep, I suppose.” She finally gasps out and he chuckles against her thigh, sending a shiver up her body.

“I think we’re past the point of sleeping, Evans.”

He’s moving painfully slow, but she tries to savor it. His mouth nipping and teasing as he gets closer to the apex of her legs. It’s the one thing she yearns for more than anything else they have already done: his mouth on her center. The first time he ever did it, he fell to his knees as though in prayer in an empty classroom and she thought she was going to explode from the feeling—his mouth, his tongue, his fingers moving in complete synchronicity against her. Ever since, she didn’t care if they had five minutes to spare or if Filch was just around the corner— she wanted him between her legs, making her whimper by the softness of his tongue. She wants it so much and so often that it worries her to think that she will feel just as insatiable about another part of his body when the time comes. 

“Is this ok?” He breathes into her inner thigh. Both of them can see the result of desire pooling between her legs and James stares shamelessly, wonder etched across his face. 

“Merlin— you are so wet…because of me?”  

“Don’t be arrogant.” Her voice turns into a moan as he bites down against the uppermost part of her thigh before licking over it to ease any pain. The newfound sight of her arousal awakens an urgency in him and his hands and mouth are moving more erratic against her, trying to take as much of her in as he possibly can.

“Lily, you have no idea. No idea how many nights I’ve thought of you in this bed.”

She can’t help but giggle at the teenage lust of it all. It’s not like she is any better—before they started hooking up she would wake up with her hand already between her legs, body covered in sweat as she broke from the dream of his mouth crawling its way around her chest. 

“Is it better or worse than you imagined?” She quips and his mouth stills. She looks down to catch his gaze burning up at her, a hand hovering dangerously close to her center.

“Don’t even joke Evans.” 

She plans to make another cheeky remark but it’s cut short by his mouth making contact with her knickers. He kisses her through the wet fabric, running his tongue into the grooves of her flesh that he already knows so well. Her back arches for him instinctively and he uses it as leverage to hold her body in a hovered state, fingers circling at the top of her ass. 

“Christ Potter.” She can feel him smile against her as he continues his ministrations, teeth pulling back the side of her knickers and slipping his tongue onto slick skin. The feel of his raw mouth makes her gasp and he lets out a small chuckle, pleased he is capable of making her react so viscerally. 

“You are so lovely, so lovely .” He’s breathing straight inside her and his air makes her body feel feverish. “I don’t know how I deserve you, but I will never never let you go if I can help it.”

A finger slides into her and it takes everything to not let her head fall completely back. She doesn’t want to look away—completely mesmerized by how his tongue works her clit while his fingers twist inside her. He adds another finger and she lets out a cry, happy that his parents are presumably on the other side of the house. 

“James, wait, I—” The feeling builds faster than she can fight it. With one last lick, she is sent over the edge, grasping onto his hair and her legs squeeze around him.

“Oh fuck—Lily—” his eyes are wide, watching as she shudders through the last of her climax. She pulls at his shoulders and he rises back up, wiping his mouth with his shirt. 

“That was incredible—Lily, you taste…I can’t even describe it—” He genuinely looks dumbstruck, sitting beside her. 

She watches him catch his breath, a hand caressing his leg slowly as he smiles back at her. It’s the place they usually stop: where one of both of them is sated by a mouth or a hand before they put their clothes back on and go their separate ways. But tonight, they have nowhere to run off to, no reason to leave things just short of full completion. 

“Lily—” He starts in, but she is already ahead of him. Sitting up, she pulls her jumper over her head and the rush of cold hits her bare breasts. Anything he was about to say gets stuck in his throat at the sight of her.

“Dear sweet Godric–” he breathes out, eyes jumping from one breast to the other.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen them plenty of times.”

“But I haven’t,” James gives her an incredulous stare, “Between my glasses and the near black of those bloody closets, I might as well be experiencing this for the first time.”

“Well—” Lily stammers, “Seeing as you just, you know, licked me out , my tits are hardly something to—”

James lunges at her, knocking her fully back on the bed. He slots himself between her legs and she can feel his arousal pressing through the fabric and into her waist. 

“Don’t you ever, ever undermine your body like that,” he growls out. A hand slides from her cheek, down her neck, to her clavicle, circling just under one of her breasts but not making contact. 

“Can I—”

“Touch them? Yes.” Lily cuts him off. She’s surprised he is even asking, seeing as he has done it hundreds of times before. 

“No—can I take off my clothes too?” 

Another wave of vulnerability enters the room. They have seen each other in various levels of undress, but never fully and never together .

“I don’t want to push anything—and I know we agreed that this is all just for a laugh, but I just—” He lets his voice get away from him, insecurity getting the best of his thoughts. 

“Is that what you think?” she says quietly, “That I came here, lied to your parents and mine…for a laugh?”

James makes a coughing sound, eyes darting around her face, waiting for an elaboration. 

“You’re right, I have worries about telling our mates for various reasons–” He opens his mouth to interrupt her, but she silences him with a hand on his mouth.

“-But that doesn’t mean that this isn’t real for me. That I don’t want you just as much as you want me.”

He looks down at her, feelings shifting on his face faster than she can read them. 

“Lily, I really fancy you,” he whispers, strained. “And if—if we do something, y’know more , I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back.”

She reaches her hands up to his cheeks and rests them there, fingers catching falling hair out of his face. 

“You say that like I don’t feel the same way,” her pulse quickens, “you say that like you don’t already know that I don’t want to go back.”

His eyes blaze raw and hopeful, and she feels the blood rush through her body, giving her the bravery she needs to move her hands back to his unbuttoned trousers and tug them down. His lips crash onto hers, and she can feel the hard line of his body pressing into her chest as he cups her face with one hand and helps ease his pants off with another. Just as quick, he removes his shirt, letting their bare chests slide together, his skin burning. 

“Lily, Lily, Lily.” He says her name like a lullaby, kissing down the column of her neck until he reaches one of her breasts. Taking her nipple into his mouth, she arches up as his tongue swirls around it, him somehow finding new ways for her to feel impossibly good. 

She can’t get enough of him, the feverish heat of his skin, the sturdy pulse of his body. She knows she is breathing yet it feels like there is not enough air for the two of them, the sound of the storm just adding to the fervent nature of their movements. He is as close to her as he has ever been, but she wants him closer still . 

Pulling off of her slightly, he dips a hand down to unbutton her skirt, pulling it and her knickers down with a tug. Now completely nude, he rises up to look at her, his eyes brimming with awe.

“You are so beautiful.” 

It’s something she’s seen people say in movies, but she can tell the words hold all the sincerity in the world. His eyes are wide, trying to commit every part of her to memory, hand lightly grazing her hip as he takes her in. Satisfied, he drops down to capture her mouth in a searing kiss, a smile evident on his lips. 

“Lily, I meant it, he gasps out when he breaks for air, “What I said earlier—I don’t want anyone else. I never want to lose you.”

“I know,” she breathes against his lips, “good thing you aren’t losing me.”

He closes in for another kiss, his lips soft but urgent, tongue begging to twist with hers. Through the haze she senses some shuffling at their waists until she can feel the bare skin of his arousal pressing in against her, warm and throbbing.

“Wait, I want to see you too.”

She wiggles her way out from under him and he obliges, falling onto his back. It’s her turn to regard him—she thought she knew his body so well already but in the light it takes on a whole new meaning. He is muscular yet slim, something she always thought made him look so effortlessly fit in comparison to his bulking teammates, and she holds back a gasp when she finally sees his cock, hard and erect with the smallest bit of liquid crowning at the tip. 

“I did that?” She says, knowing how childish it sounds.

“Look who is arrogant now,” James teases, squeezing her thigh, “You’re killing me, Evans. C’mere.”

She puts a leg over his hips and settles down against him. His cock slides easily into her folds and both of them hum in approval, now realizing how much better it feels without the barrier of clothes. 

“Are you sure?” 

She doesn’t need to respond, instead rolling her hips forward until she can feel his tip lining up with her entrance. His head falls back, but his eyes refuse to leave hers, the question still hanging between them. 

“Let me lead,” she says, not waiting another second to slide herself onto him. 

A gasp escapes as her body stretches around him, learning to accommodate the new sensation. She stalls, rocking her hips slightly to let the smallest bit of him slide in and out of her, testing the waters before daring to continue further. He grabs onto her thighs, following her rhythm as she moves back and forth, eyes wild and adoring. Deep sighs leave his throat with each small movement, reassuring her to keep going. 

They continue like this until she has pushed him fully inside and their bottom halves connect. Her hips move more languorously now, waving up and down the length of him in steady movements. Her mouth hangs open, trying to take full breaths between the noises that keep pouring out of her mouth with every thrust. 

“James— Christ.”

He leans upwards and takes one of her breasts into his mouth, and she cries from the over stimulation of it all. It feels better than anything she could ever imagine—not even the added pleasures of all their cupboard trysts would equate to the sensation occurring at that moment. They are utterly complete, moving as one. 

James grabs hold of her torso and carefully flips them over without slipping out of her. Now with the upperhand, he is able to press deeper, hitting a ball of nerves tucked deep inside her that makes her stomach clench in ecstasy. 

When he is not moaning hot kisses into her breasts or neck, he is watching her—keeping a steady gaze on her face to make sure that she is enjoying every single moment as much as he is. Strings of words chant out of his mouth—some affirmations, some swears, some just her name over and over until it sounds like a foreign language. 

“Lily, I won’t last much longer, I want you to come for me.”

It’s instinctual. She reaches one hand between her legs to rub the tip of her clit while the other cups the curve of her breast, jutting it outwards as an offering to his mouth. His eyes grow impossibly wider, ducking down to take her tit between his teeth. 

Her second climax is more violent than the first. She can feel herself squeezing around him, her whole body seizing up until it feels like a rubber band in mid snap. He holds her against him, mouth breathing onto her chest as he continues his rhythm through her release. 

“So beautiful, so good, Godric Lily, I can feel it.”

It sends him over the edge. His hips snap forward, now erratic and urgent. Slick with the sweat of her climax, she grabs both of his cheeks and forces him to look at her. His eyes drowning in desire and anticipation. 

“Come for me James—you can come inside me, it's ok.”

“Lily—” He looks unsure, but he’s losing time. She can feel his body quivering over her. 

“I took the potion, I want you to come inside me. Please James.”

“ Lily—-ah.” She feels his release instantaneously. She remarks that it’s weirdly warm and comforting despite it being such a carnal act. 

With a sigh, he collapses on her, hands dancing across her collar bone as he catches his breath into her shoulder. 

“Incredible. You’re just—” he doesn’t finish his thought, opting to press his lips gently into her neck. 

She wraps her arms around him. He’s sweaty and heaving and hers. She had never felt like that about him before even in their most intimate moments, but now it is solidified, maybe not in words but in action. 

Snow makes pattering noises against the windowpane, the wind too slow to dust it off before another blanket appears. They lay in each other’s arms, feeling their heart beats go from wild to steady, hands lazily tracing the other’s skin until they halt into calm. 

“Are you sleeping now?” He whispers into the crook of her neck, his nose nuzzling into her skin. 

“Not yet,” she smiles, a laugh already bubbling up, “Why? You keen on working on that Charms assignment?”

James laughs and the sound cuts through the night air. 

“Not quite.” He raises himself to hover back over her, mouth skimming hers. 

“But I am keen on working on something else.” 

~  ~  ~ 

She awakes exactly how she fell asleep, tangled up in him. At some point in the night he had pulled the blankets over them, and their bodies radiated heat. Her face is pushed into his chest, and one leg is hitched up against his thigh, his fingers contracting in sleep against her ass. 

He must have taken off his glasses at some point in the night, because when she looks up at him, his eyes are unobscured. He has eyelashes much longer than she imagined and his hair falls in unruly tangles around his face. A warmth rises in her chest as she watches his mouth hang slightly open and a moan drift out. 

She doesn’t want it to end. They might be melded together now, but their time is coming to a close—soon she will have to go back to Cokeworth, Sirius will return from his uncle’s, and he will stay in this room with only the memory to keep him company.

They need to talk about what will happen when they return back to Hogwarts, but she lets the thought drift away as he stirs. Blinking his eyes open to look down at her, a lazy, irresistible smile pulls at his lips. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning,” she echoes, giggling at the absurdity of it all. “How did you sleep?”

He leans in and gives a kiss to her forehead, his arm tightening to keep her leg from unwinding around him. 

“Brilliant because you are here…but terribly because every time I woke up I was randy for you all over again.”

She knows he isn’t lying, she can feel the proof of it pressing into her pelvis. 

“Poor you,” she teases. “Sounds like you should do something about it.” She gives him a smile and his face goes alight with happiness. He rolls them over so he is back over her, their lips pressing together with already panting kisses. 

“JAMES DARLING! BREAKFAST IS READY!”

He doesn’t stall, his hand already teasing at her breast and Lily gasping into his mouth. 

“JAMES! YOU AND LILY CAN’T ROLL AROUND ALL DAY— BESIDES I’VE MADE THE POTTER SPECIAL...”

James' eyes rip open and they share a mutual look of embarrassment and horror. Lily can feel her whole body turning red, burrowing her face into his chest. 

“Er—Thanks Dad.” James calls out, voice cracking a little. He looks down at her and lightly brushes some knotted hair out of her eyes. 

“The Potter Special?”

“You’re going to love it,” he pulls her chin up and gives her a soft kiss on the mouth, eyes still dreamy. 

“Before we face death by utter embarrassment at the hands of my parents, can we—”

She threads her hands in his hair, an act now as familiar as blinking.

“I’m not going anywhere, Potter.”

His face nearly breaks in two from a grin and he swoops down to catch her in a fierce, desperate kiss. Around them the room spins, and everything beyond the bed starts to melt away again.  

“Fuck it—I’m not hungry,” he gasps when they part to catch their breaths. Lily's laugh transforms into a moan, feeling his body already lining up against hers. 

“Me either,” she sighs. He presses into her she tugs him closer, savoring him for as long as possible.

 “It can wait.”

[crescenthistory]

Ok not a request but I loved the recent regulus fic with “where is she?”. I can just picture snape showing up in the infirmary the next day just fully bandaged and in casts all thanks to Barty and Evan

THANK YOU i really loved writing that one, hurt/comfort is my shit, especially with someone wound so tight like regulus. something about losing control you know?

and absolutely – as soon as you are out of the infirmary, your bed is taken over by snape for his egregious crime. as is the next one over by avery, for being involved in the situation. beside him is mulciber, for trying to protect his "friends", and any others who got in the way.

regulus is barty's oldest friend; any turmoil he feels must be avenged. reader is the one barty treasures perhaps most; any violence against them must be reciprocated. as for evan, he has that quiet, simmering, unwavering loyalty, both for reader and regulus, but of course, above all else, barty. even if he didn't particularly care for you, he would have followed barty on his almost-murder spree – but when you, someone who always holds space for him and understands him, is all but gutted on school property by buffoons? and not even with a purpose or methodology, just out of pure stupidity? he is not just supporting barty nor satiating some twisted fascination, he is revelling in the opportunity to protect you after-the-fact.

say what you want about those two, call them unhinged, maniacal, disturbing, but they are and will remain pack animals. they protect their own.

they do wait, though. not with the threats, nor possibly the restraining or light maiming of the offending parties, but with any level of repercussions that require immediate medical attention. because there is no way in hell they are going to let those sods near you anytime soon.

i also think you have to keep insisting and reminding them for the next foreseeable future that you did not die:

"when snape killed treasure" is a common point of reference for barty.

"i want nothing to do with that murderous bastard" "he didn't murder me, barty" "you don't know what you're talking about"

"i'm literally sitting here, breathing, right now" "i still hear her voice sometimes"

evan would always position himself between you and snape in a room, even if he genuinely never had anything against you specifically nor would risk the injuries himself

while you roll your eyes affectionately at their theatrics, it actually does unnerve regulus

he is still largely affected by the whole thing, the thought of losing you a sore topic (sorer than it already was, that is)

only when you give evan and barty a look before nodding inconspicuously at regulus do they quiet down

though they never truly let it go

barty would definitely reference your "death" in his best man speech at your wedding sorry

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

Sparks Fly - Lost the Breakup Part 4

A/n: I'm sorry for the long wait between chapter, I find it hard to write longform style things without jumping straight to the fun stuff and building enough tension.... But we all learn somehow so i hope you bear with me.

Previous Part || Next Part

The cool air hit your burning face as you rushed onto the balcony and began to pace in the small space. The hiss of the shower echoed from the bathroom. You ran your hands through your hair and heaved a deep breath. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Oscar is just a friend, right? So why do you feel like an electric current is running through your whole body? You slump onto the small chair occupying the space, you head resting in your hands. You need to clear your head. Standing back up, you spot the small notebook on the desk in the corner of the room. Quickly scrawling a note to Oscar. 

Gone for a walk, don’t wait up. 

–

The cool water of the shower did nothing to wash away the excitement running through Oscar's skin. He had almost done it. He’d almost kissed her. He tilts his head back and lets the water run over his face. The way she looked up at him minutes ago flashed through his mind, was she disappointed that he’d pulled away? Was she disgusted that it had even happened? Oscar’s mind races with the possibilities. 

Once he had washed his hair and relaxed from the day of travelling, he stepped out of the shower. Immediately, he realised that in his haste he had forgotten a change of clothes. 

Wrapping a fluffy hotel towel around his hips he poked his head out of the bathroom. Y/n was nowhere to be seen but he could see that a note had been written on the pad by the desk. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and quickly read the note before getting dressed into pyjama pants and laying on the couch to watch some netflix. If she wasn't going to be here when he went to sleep, she couldn't argue that he deserved the bed more. 

–

Oscar thankfully had left by the time you awoke. Now, half an hour later and sipping a coffee on the balcony, you decide to bite the bullet and text Oscar. 

Y/n:  I’m sorry if I snore 

Osc: You don’t, Don’t worry

Y/n:  Shouldn't have taken the couch though, I thought I had won it fair and square 

Osc: As I said, My mother would kill me if I let a lady sleep on the couch

Osc: Although I can’t say my back is thanking me though

Y/n:  Maybe you should come share the bed then…

You fling your phone onto the couch next to you and run your hands through your hair. Your phone buzzes and you grab it, before lowering it back down again. You stare down at it, eyes wide with nervous curiosity. It buzzes again and, your nerves suddenly overcome, you open your chat with Oscar. 

Osc: I mean if you’re offering

Osc: We’re both adults right 

– 

You are settled in bed once Oscar returns from his media duties, having grabbed dinner with his team on the way back to the hotel. 

“Hey, How was your day?” he asks  after coming through the door, placing his backpack next to the door and pulling his team polo over his head. 

Your mouth goes dry at his toned chest. You had seen him shirtless before, but he had really bulked up since joining the team. Everything was turned up, every muscle defined perfectly without Oscar looking strange or too big. 

“Y/n?” he asks again.

“Oh yeah” You answer lamely, “ I went and explored a little, I forgot that there's not really much to do around here outside of the race, but I was thinking that while you're at the track tomorrow I’d drive down to Stavelot and visit the Abbey and the Race Museum… If  you don’t mind me using the hire car that is?” 

Oscar smiled, “I got the car so you wouldn't be stuck at the hotel, it's yours to use. I’ll ask one of the guys to give me a ride to the track.” 

You nod, “Okay, it's just Lando didn't like me driving the hire cars, and he always wanted me at the track with him so I never got to go exploring” 

“You don’t have to explain.” Oscar grabbed his pyjama pants and his towel, “I’m going to have a shower, do you want to pick a movie to watch?” 

–

You burst out  a giggle when you look at Oscar. He’s sitting popped against the headboard of the hotel bed, mouthing  along with the words of the movie. You’d picked Cars for nostalgia, but watching Oscar remembering all the words to the childhood classic was more entertaining. 

Oscar looked at you, his ‘secret weapon’ ice cream bowl abandoned on the nightstand. 

“What?” He laughs with you, “I love this movie!”

“Nothing” You hum, curling up tight under the blankets, facing Oscar. Your eyelids fluttering when you realise how tired you are. 

“Goodnight, y/n” Oscar murmurs, running his hands through your hair splayed on the pillow. 

You mumble a goodnight back before drifting off to the murmur of the tv and his hands in your hair. 

–

YN LN spotted in Spa ahead of the Belgian GP. Does this mark a reunion for YN and Lando?

-

Lando grips his phone as he storms towards Oscar’s hotel room. Rage pumping through his veins. He bangs on the door with his fist, pausing before banging again. 

Oscar swings the door open, his hair mussed and wiping sleep from his eyes. 

“What the fuck is going on, mate?” He mumbles, leaning gently against the door. 

“Where the fuck is she?” Lando asks loudly, making a start into the room. Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s chest and pushes him back into the hallway. “I know she’s here.” 

“Can you chill out?” Oscar hisses, “Yes, shes here” 

“ I-” Lando begins but Oscar puts a hand up to stop him. 

“Mate, you fucked up. You hurt her and then when she saw you in Monaco, you hurt her again.” Oscar says. “She didn’t come to see you. She came with me. Go to bed.” 

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’re fucking my girlfriend?” 

“Lando” Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s shoulder, “ She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

All of the emotions hit him at once and Lando found himself with tears running down his cheeks. 

“But I love her,” Lando sobs. “We can’t-, I can’t, I need her”

Oscar pulls him into a hug, Lando’s face smashing into his shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Lando.” Oscar releases the older man, “We can talk more in the morning”

The door to the hotel room clicks shut, leaving a sniffling Lando in the hallway. Oscar rested his head against the shut door. He never wanted to hurt Lando. Just like Lando hadn’t wanted to hurt you. They would talk in the morning though. 

Oscar turns and shuffles back to bed, slipping under the covers next to you. 

Taglist: @amz824 @cmleitora @herexpertcollector @piastrams @coriyaps @milkysoop

[thegrandmarsh]

[so-many-ocs]

practical writing advice

part 2

avoid writing in bed if you can. writing in bed is the mind-killer. writing in bed is the little death that brings obliteration. you may think "but i can write AND be cozy" you will get sleepy so fast. 98% of the time when i try to get a nighttime writing session done in bed i go to sleep. maybe 70% of the time if it's an afternoon writing session. also it fucking kills your wrists.

STRETCH before writing. stretch as many parts of your body as possible ESPECIALLY YOUR WRISTS! i have chronic tendonitis in both of my arms from not doing this and it is manageable but it is Not Fun!

plug your phone in on the other side of the room. better yet, plug it in and leave it in another room. better yet, power it off and leave it in another room. "i'll just check one quick thing" do not underestimate the power of the doomscroll.

do a warmup. look up writing prompts (i like one-word prompts or prompts that focus on a general theme as it's easier to integrate into my writing style), set a timer for fifteen minutes, or ten, or five, and go ham. make it shitty or incomprehensible, as long as you make it. create a dump document for all your warmups. i currently have two novels in the works that started as one of these fifteen minute little warmups.

pick your background noise ahead of time if you use it, and look for something long. i listen to 3-hour-long silent hill ambient mixes on youtube dot com.

take breaks. around every 45 minutes, as i'm noticing myself begin to lose focus, i get up, grab a drink, get my blood flowing, and give myself some space to breathe.

sometimes i sit down to write and i think "every atom in my body is averse to doing this right now. i would rather dance barefoot on a bed of nails than open my laptop and start typing." and you know what i do? i go do something else instead. don't force it! it will become a chore.

that being said! write as often as possible. try to write every day. try to write at the same time. don't beat yourself up if you can’t, BUT the more often you write, the more often you'll want to write.

if you're stuck on a scene or a page or a chapter, go back to the last place where you felt like you knew what you were doing and start writing from there. keep a copy of your other writing in case you want to reuse it or refer back!

i don't know if this is something that will be helpful for other people but i start mentally preparing myself for my writing session a few hours ahead of time. i will say to myself, "today, at this time, i'm gonna sit down and write that scene where mina walks out on her book club, and it's going to be awesome and i'm looking forward to it." then, by the time i actually begin, i basically have the whole thing written out in my head and can just put it down to paper. it's a good way to at least kickstart the session !

ok thanks bye

[rizsu]

he's married ?! nanami kento.

sum. he's easily the top most handsome guy within his job. his relationship status is unknown, so what happens when his co-workers ship him with a female worker?

nanami is well known within his company. tall, insanely fit, and an attractive voice. it's not uncommon for men and women alike to find themselves thinking about him often. what's not common is knowing about his love life. no one knows anything and he would've kept it that way. but when push comes to shove, and you're shipped with someone who's not your beloved, nanami will make it known that he's not only taken but married.

in the coffee-break room there are three guys. now, there's nothing unusual about this — no, no. they're just three guys that are co-workers... except there's a twist. they aren't your regular co-workers, they're your uncommon trio of male gossipers and nanami just so happened to be their newest victim.

"shh, shh! he's here," guy one, tichi, whispers to the others, raising his eyebrows and pointing his chin to nanami's position.

the other two take a quick glance, nodding their heads when they've seen nanami's back faced towards them. it's a perfect moment to strike up a conversation, especially since it's just four men here.

guy two, tacho, shuffles his feet to the empty space near nanami. he pretends to open a sugar packet, fiddling with it as his eyes peep over nanami's shoulder. his heart skips multiple beats when the man himself turns around.

"morning to you, tacho," nanami greets, nodding his head before he turns his attention back to his cup of coffee.

"y-yeah, morning!" he stutters, awkwardly smiling in return. he turns his head to the other two in the background, mouthing the word 'help' to them. unfortunately, they do not give the aid to their friend. instead, tichi fakes a series of coughs and guy three, toeny, gives him a confident double thumbs up. there's no hope, tacho sighs.

it's a silent moment between the men — only the sounds of coffee brewing and a spoon coming into contact with the mug can be heard. tacho's mouth itches him, he happened to remember his group's recent conversation about nanami. he must ask — even if it costs him a mutual co-worker.

"so, nanami," he begins, waiting for nanami to give him the undivided attention.

nanami doesn't face him, but he hums in response. tacho doesn't mind this as an answer, so he continues, "i was wondering if the rumors of you being with the new worker, yeri, are true?"

there is one big lie in that question: there are no such rumors. it's just a theory the trio has been gossiping about every night. nanami's been helping out yeri for quite some time, one can only think that they have a special connection going on.

"that is bullshit," nanami gives a firm answer. nothing more, nothing less.

tacho's stunned, he blinks a few times to recollect himself. "oh — so you're not with her?"

nanami doesn't answer yet, but the two in the back give their unwanted reactions. tichi clicks his tongue three times, shaking his head in disappointment at tacho's second question. it's obvious dumbass, he thinks. toeny, on the other hand, presses his lips in a thin line, pretending to read a magazine that's been on the counter.

nanami reaches into his pocket, whipping out his phone. the trio's confused until nanami speaks.

"i am married man. this is my wife," he educates, pressing the power button to show you as his lockscreen.

he collects three gasps, internally nodding at their shock. that's right, i'm gladly taken.

"all this time you've been... MARRIED?!" tacho's voice heightens, he drops his spoon in shock. it's unbelievable yet somewhat believable.

nanami breathes out a 'yes', raising his arm to show the wristwatch. "she bought this for our five-years anniversary recently. it's quite expensive, going over four-thousand," he brags, emphasizing on key words.

he's been waiting for the precious day where someone indirectly asks for his relationship status. the day has come and he will spend it bragging about his beloved.

nanami doesn't give them a chance to speak, he carries on with his bragging, "she's a very lovely woman. all my bentos are made by her and she writes little notes for each. some may think it's childish but that's bullshit! they just haven't experienced the love of a woman. matter of fact, her most beautiful moments are when she's freshly awake. the smile she gives me is nothing but angelic."

his speech doesn't stop there, but it did for the trio. his words went in one ear and out the next. nanami's blabbering about his wife immediately set a blank face upon tichi, tacho, and toeny. they're jealous and also surprised.

"the way a woman can change a man will never not be amazing," toeny whispers, blankly gazing at nanami's ongoing speech.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I have a request for Jacaerys Velaryon x reader. They have been married for some time, but Jace still had feelings for Baela. He has never cheated and was always respectful towards reader, though. Jacaerys and her performed their duties and eventually she got pregnant. The fact that reader is now carrying his child makes them grow closer and Jace starts to fall in love with his wife.

For this one, the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s children was called into question and there was no betrothals between Rhaenyra’s boys and Daemon’s twins.

Warnings: pregnancy (I don't like pregnancies when I read/write, but this one was okay and mostly a small part of the story)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When King Viserys fell, a prince showed up to your home and asked your mother, Jeyne Arryn, for her support to Princess — now Queen — Rhaenyra’s claim. In her message, Rhaenyra didn’t fail to mention her mother, Aemma of House Arryn, and remind Lady Jeyne that she shared Arryn blood through her. Your mother was hesitant, knowing her support would make Daemon Targaryen king consort, but she couldn’t give her support to the Greens. So, she agreed but demanded to get something in exchange: a husband for her only daughter.

You didn’t like the idea of being sold for politics, but according to your mother it was part of being a woman. 

Married life wasn’t bad like you thought. Jacaerys was a respectful and kind man, but there was one problem: he had feelings for another. 

You didn’t take long to notice that his heart was elsewhere. It was written in the silence. The way he looked at Baela, the way he smiled at her — a special smile he kept just for her. He had undeniable feelings for her. You begged for attention, time, acknowledgment, but Jacaerys was never fully with you. Him and Baela spent a lot of time together riding their dragons together or practicing High Valyrian in the great hall, which left you hurt and jealous. Other than the red gem on your finger that matched the one of his cloak-pin, you had nothing in common. 

Sitting in your chamber, you held a necklace of your house’s sigil. The gold was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. You hadn't seen your mother since the beginning of the war and you missed her dearly. You exchanged messages by raven, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. 

A tear slipped down your cheek, wishing for this war to be over soon. 

The door of your chambers creaked open, snapping you out of your sorrowful reverie. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Jacaerys in his armor after a day spent teaching the dragonseeds. It was a smart idea to get more dragons and riders on their side, but also a lot of work. 

‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity.  

‘’Missing home, that’s all,’’ you replied, quickly wiping the tear away and forcing a smile. The weight of the necklace seemed heavier than ever as you clutched it in your hand.

Jacaerys stepped further into the room, running a hand through his tousled hair. He crossed the space between you in a few strides, his expression softening. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ He wiped your tear and sat next to you. ‘’I’ll take you to the Vale when it’s safe,’’ Jacaerys promised, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. ‘’I would take you now if it wasn’t so dangerous to fly over Kingsroad. The Greens have taken Harrenhal and—’’ 

‘’Is my mother okay? You promised you would send a dragon to watch over my home.’’  

He nodded. ‘’Rhaena left this morning with Joffrey and three dragon eggs. They should hatch soon and assure more protection to the Vale.’’ 

You let out a shaky breath, the news offering a small measure of relief. 

A few moons later, you announced to Jacaerys that you were pregnant. It was a surprise as you only had the occasion to lay together two times, but it’s been two moons since you last bled and the maester confirmed your suspicions. You were with child. 

The timing was not ideal, but the Queen was beyond happy for you and Jacaerys. She hosted a small feast in your honor, and made everyone keep your pregnancy a secret. Jacaerys was her heir, making your baby his heir. If the news got to their ears, she feared you would become a target for the Greens.

At the table, Baela congratulated you with a smile. You thought she would be bitter, but she was genuinely happy for you. 

As the weeks went by, the walls that once stood between you began to crumble and you and Jacaerys started getting closer. He would spend more time in the evening in your chambers, talking by the hearth while eating lemon tarts. And ask how the baby was although your stomach was barely round every time he returned from teaching the dragonseeds. 

You’ll never forget the look on his face when felt the baby move for the first time. The stars of complete amazement. He kissed you that night — a real kiss. 

On the seventh moon, as you were getting ready for your bath, you felt blood dripping down your leg.  Terrified, you asked one of the servants to fetch the maester and the Queen. She had other — more pressing — business to take care of, but you needed the reassurance of a mother by your side.

The news ran through the castle and made it way to Jacaerys, who dropped everything he was doing and ran through the corridors of Dragonstone to get to you. 

His face pale with worry when he bursted in your chamber, thinking you were going to lose the baby like his mother did. An early bleeding was how it started. 

‘’I’m fine, Jace. Maester Gerardys said bleeding can happen,’’ you said, taking his hand and pressing it over your belly. ‘’Our baby is fine.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale@mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron  @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

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[monstersflashlight]

Maybe a Alien male x female reader. The humanoid (not sure if this is the right description to use but they kind of have the general silhouette of a human/some humanish features) Alien has a mate for life/soulmate situation and can be pretty pathetic (ex: please please please rizz meme) and maybe cries a lot. They meet reader and shenanigans ensue as they keep pursuing her. Maybe they meet at a Galaxy match making company that Reader accidentally signs up for or something or in the middle of a intergalactic space station.

Hi anon! This was SO FUN to write, love it. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Domming the alien

Alien x fem!reader || mating, praise kink, dom/sub dynamic (dom reader), bondage (light)

When the genetic testing showed that you were matched with some kind of alien, you were a bit more than shook. You thought those kind of things didn’t happen to women like you, but there you were, waiting for your perfect match in an intergalactic space station. Like… what the fuck was your life?

The naga assistant who brought you there told you about his alien species, about what you should expect knowing you are an alien’s mate. But you barely paid attention to her as you looked across the room, transfixed by him. He looked humanoid enough, his eyes a bit too big, his nose a bit too flat, his hair a bit too rubbery and his torso a bit too long. He looked almost humanoid… Apart from the bright orange coloring. And you were weirdly attracted to him.

The naga was talking as you two approached him, but neither of you payed any attention to her. The first thing he said to you was: “You are so pretty…” His eyes were bright, like there was some kind of light shining from within, and you were mesmerized.

“Thanks. You aren’t so bad yourself,” you joked, trying to catch your breath after seeing such a precious creature.

But he wasn’t giving you any time to catch it. “You are perfect. My pretty mate…” His tone was reverent, like you were the best thing that ever happened to him, and you could only stare at him.

And it all went from there. He became the best boyfriend in the world, in the whole galaxy. He studied all human customs and courts you like a professional. He brought you flowers, video-games, sweets… Anything you could wish for he offered, and you were on cloud nine. Better than that, you are in space, with the best alien you could have wished for.

But nothing prepared you for the first time you (physically) mated.

You are just chilling in his space apartment when he clears his throat and asks: “Would you… would you couple with me?” You look at him confused, not even having time to process before he starts begging. “Please, please, please…”

You look at him like he’s crazy. You already had sex a bunch of times, you are very familiar with his body and he is with yours. “What do you mean?” You ask, completely baffled by his question.

“In my culture we… Males are… I’ve seen some human coupling videos and the male is always so rough with females but us… With mates... It’s not like that.” He says it like it’s a secret, like it’s a huge deal for him that you are even considering giving him what he’s asking for.

And then it clicks.

You smirk up at him, your hands grabbing his cheeks softly and pulling him down, at eye level. “You want me to dominate you, sweetheart?” You enunciate each word slowly and with intent, your insides burning up at the idea of domming him.

He nods rapidly, eagerly, like the most precious alien puppy. “Please…” He repeats. You smile at him tenderly, kissing his flat nose.

“Okay, sweetheart. Strip, lay down, I’m going to tie you down.” You instruct, getting into your dom persona easily. It’s been a long time, but it feels great to dom him, it feels fated.

You look at he moves around the room, stripping and almost vibrating with anticipation and pent up sexual frustration. He lays down like a good alien and pulls his hands up, letting you tie him up with one of the space ropes that you are more than sure weren’t designed for that. But they would do, they are sturdy and soft, and you make sure to leave enough room so he can’t hurt himself. You tie his legs next, spreading him completely and smirking down at his submissive form.

He holds for like two seconds before he’s begging. “Please, please, please… Mate, please.” He sounds so good that you have to swallow a moan. You strip down slowly, looking at him squirming against the restrains.

“I like when you beg. But I like it even more when you whine.” You graze your nails over the ridges on his chest and he cries out, whining and moaning like you are subjecting him to the most amazing torture. “Come on, sweetheart, can you come from this? Can you come for me just caressing your skin?” The power trip is exhilarating, having such a big alien under you, trusting you to dom him, to make him cum, is driving you insane in the best way possible.

“Ye- yes. Please.” He can’t stop saying please and it shouldn’t make you as happy as it does.

You caress his skin for a bit more, the ridges on his chest so sensitive he’s screaming by the time you get him to come. “Good alien, such a good boy for me.” Your words make him shiver as the last shot of his green come spurs from his dick. He whines as you keep grazing your nails over his ridges, not letting him catch his breath. “Can you do it again? Can you keep going until I’m tired of playing with your pretty cock? Until I’m ready to fuck myself on you?” You keep talking as he moans. You rub your thighs together, trying to get some relief for yourself, but rapidly focusing back on him. He looks so pretty tied down for you, coming and crying.

He says something similar to a yes, but it’s rapidly lost in the throaty moan he lets out as you grab his erection with a bit too much force. The mixture of pain and pleasure make his eyes roll back into his head as his chest flushes in the best shade of orange. You smile at him, leaning down to trace his ridges with your tongue, nipping at them lightly. He cries out so loudly that you stop your movements, scared that you hurt him. But then you realize there’s some green come over your hand that wasn’t there a couple seconds before.

“Did you just come?” You try not to laugh, but a chuckle escapes your lips as he blushes deeper orange, almost red. He looks at you with unfocused eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks. He lets out such a pathetic sound that you shush him softly, patting his abdomen and climbing on top of him. “It’s okay, you are doing so good. Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” You ask, your pussy close to his abdomen.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Please,” his begging is so great you have to bite down on your tongue to avoid moaning like a whore.

You sit on his abdomen and start grinding slowly, but your hips have a mind of its own and before you realize, you are rubbing your dripping pussy across his abdomen until his ridges are glistening with your desire. He keeps begging and groaning, making you even wetter. By the time you slip his dick inside, he’s a mess of tears and drool, so oversensitive with your previous actions that he cries out when he hits deep inside of you.

You groan and start riding him like you mean it, like you are a cowgirl on a mission and he’s just a toy for you to fuck. His eyes are rolled back and he’s moving his hips soft and slow, the restrains avoiding too much movement. You don’t care, your nails are grazing his ridges as you ride him, and when you come around his cock, he screams your name as he faints, his body pliant under you as you chuckle…

Maybe he wasn’t all that ready to be dommed by a human.

[abbyshands]

hers only

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

synopsis; gf!abby does not like clara, the gym trainer who can’t keep her hands off you. so who’s surprised when she loses her composure, channeling her rage in the form of rough, hard sex?

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; abby’s jealous as fuck, a little toxic!abby but not really, use of a strap-on, abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, and strap is referred to as her dick/cock, throat-fucking (with fingers), fingering, choking, pretty rough sex, degrading (slut/bitch/whore, etc), a little praise, use of baby/honey, one use of y/n BEFORE the smut (sorry, it was necessary), spanking, reader cries, abby gives reader a sensory overload, dumbfucking, etc

a/n; hello! my name is kitlyn, kit for short :) i’m a huge writer, and tlou is my latest obsession. so, ofc, i had to get this fic out for my gf, and much more to come. i hope you like this, and if you have any ideas for me to write, please lmk!

p.s.; your daily reminder (or a fun fact), abby canonically bench presses 205 pounds. i rest my case <3

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

she could only make it a few weeks before her annoyance got the best of her.

you were bulking up for an upcoming mission, assigned to you by issac. in the area you would be in, scar presence was heavy, and you wouldn’t be back to the wlf for a bit, so gaining muscle was a necessity.

abby just wished she didn’t have to watch that girl’s hands all over you to get the job done.

she didn’t understand why she couldn’t train you herself, why issac wouldn’t fucking let her. he waved her off, giving her some bullshit about “a lack of focus.”

come on. if she knew you needed to bulk up, if it meant it would keep you safe, she wouldn’t lose her focus just because it was you.

maybe.

but this was the replacement. some other girl in the wlf, hands all over you as she helped you do pull-ups. your body was covered in sweat, and you had been at this for over an hour. the girl, whose name was clara, had her hands on your hips as you lifted yourself up and over the bar again and again.

“c’mon, give me ten more. you got it,” clara said. you were looking at yourself in the mirror as you let out a grunt with each pull-up you did, on your tenth at this point. but you did your best to push through.

“clara,” you groaned. “i can’t fucking—“ you began. but your trainer cut you off.

“don’t use your breath. just keep going. i’ve seen you do it before. you got it,” clara said once more, tone firm. you didn’t think it would be a good idea to deny her. so you went on.

but you were fully oblivious to the pair of blue eyes fixed on you across the room.

you had forgotten that abby also worked out around this time to lift with manny, so it didn’t even occur to you that she was gazing at this whole thing like a hawk.

“abs!” manny said to abby, accent thick. he snapped his fingers in front of abby’s face, and abby looked at him both confusedly, but also annoyedly.

“huh? what, what is it?” abby asked. she had fully spaced out, and her cheeks were red. but it wasn’t because of the workout.

it was your fucking trainer.

“estás bien? i lost you a few minutes ago,” manny said. abby had gotten used to his habit of going back and forth from spanish to english, to the point where she knew a thing or two. so she easily responded.

“yeah, i’m fine. let’s just finish for today, okay? i’m not feeling it,” she excused. but manny could see where her eyes were.

you.

“ah,” manny said. he seemed to understand now, a look of comprehension across his face as he said that. “okay. i’ll see you back at the room, then, sí?” manny asked as he held his fist out.

abby did the same and gave him the small fist bump he was looking for. “yeah, see you.”

once manny had left, abby began to pack up her gym bag. by now, you had finished your pull-ups, and were taking needy gulps from your water bottle. clara gave you a small pat on the back once you had finished drinking.

“that was good. you got any more in you?” clara laughed.

you smiled at her, shrugging. “not sure. i’ve gotta meet my girlfriend soon,” you said. really, it was in an hour or two. but you’d have to shower, change, etc. so, to you, it was soon.

nevertheless, you figured a bit more couldn’t hurt. so, you said, “but i think i can do a few more reps.”

clara just gave you a nod. each time you would bring up this girlfriend of yours, her demeanor changed like that. she’d tense, and pause her words.

you knew what it seemed like, and obviously, you didn’t like clara. but you did kind of need her.

and besides, if abby—fuck, if abby knew? it'd be a fucking field day to say the least.

you ended up choosing back squatting as a way to finish off your session with clara. you ducked your head under the bar, elbows flexing as you removed it from the rack. you caved a little under the heaviness of it, but with clara’s reassurance, you did your best to move.

clara put her arms under yours as you held the bar behind your back. she squatted along with you, body behind yours as she spotted you.

you could only make it ten or so reps before you failed on the eleventh, much to your surprise, as it had never happened to you before. clara put her hands on your chest quickly, and helped you move the bar back up to the rack.

“sorry,” you whispered in a huff, face red from the tension your body had just undergone. clara’s front pressed to your back for just a moment, and you felt a little uncomfy. she had spotted you before while doing a back squat, but not once did you fail one, forcing her to really touch you like that.

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you did fine,” clara smiled. this time, she put a hand on your shoulder, way too close for comfort. and then, she murmured to you, her own face red. “i’m proud of you.”

oh, that was fucking it.

abby discarded her gym bag on the floor. she tossed it somewhere. she would grab it later. but she couldn’t fucking watch this anymore. who the hell did this girl think she was, hands all over you like that? and who knows what she was saying to you? that was abby’s fucking job.

and hers only.

“y/n,” an all too familiar voice said from your left, and you didn’t need to look to know who had spoken.

you were thinking, my savior, once abby’s voice filled your ears. but when your eyes moved to hers, you were sure your soul left your body.

because she looked pissed.

clara moved her hand off your shoulder, and you hated the way she did it—like the two of you had been doing way more than just working out.

“grab your shit, we’re leaving,” abby said firmly to you, and she couldn’t help but send a small glare clara’s way. you weren’t the only one feeling scared, because clara was pale as a ghost. she had known you had a girlfriend, obviously.

but it was abby fucking anderson?

neither you nor clara said a word as you packed up your gym bag. once you had, abby was grabbing you by the waist, and yanking you out of the gym, leaving clara far, far behind you.

“abs—“ you tried, you really fucking did. but abby didn’t want to hear it.

“not a fucking word.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

manny knew better than to come back to the room once he saw abby eyeing you like that in the gym. it wouldn’t be the first, nor would it be the last, time that abby’s temper had ended in a room full of sex.

as soon as you were inside of the room, abby was grabbing your gym bag from your hands, tossing it far away, and kissing you aggressively. you responded with a whine, but let her, kissing her back with just as much passion. her hand gripped your neck as she all but slammed you onto the door, free hand running over your body like it was a temple she was born to worship.

really, it was.

abby put her free hand under your leg and held it up, pressing herself into you as her tongue battled yours. you moaned into her mouth as her grip on your neck compressed, her fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs.

what a good day to have worn shorts…

when abby finally pulled back, your lips were spilling with drool, lips numb and plump from the belligerence in abby’s kisses. your whole face was hot, and abby’s face was red.

and, fuck, did she look mad.

abby smashed her lips back onto yours, and kissed you all the way to her bed. once there, she pushed you down onto it and got on top of you, her large thighs on either side of your lap.

if you weren’t in for it before, you surely were now.

abby reached her arm out to open the drawer of her bedside table, and it was only a moment or two before she was pulling out a very familiar item.

her strap.

“a- abs, wh- what are you—“ you began dumbly, way too curious to find out what it was she had in mind. but abby wasn’t feeling at all gracious.

you talk when she says you can.

“shut the fuck up,” abby damn near growled at you, the kind of tone she reserved for when she was really fucking angry. you had heard it many times before. when you were on a mission and battling scars. when issac reprimanded her for being careless in the field. when mel pissed her off one too many times.

bottom line, when shit didn’t go her way.

and the idea that she felt that way now both turned you on and scared the fuck out of you.

abby was quick to secure the strap’s harness to her waist. the view of the dildo attached to it always made your mouth fill with drool: black, veiny, seven and a half inches long. she’d made you cum with it so many times you lost count, and it was a million times better than the real thing.

especially when you had abby anderson on top of you, or behind you, or below you, encouraging you to take it like the good girl you were.

she grabbed your hips with fervor, forcing you to wrap your legs around her torso once your bottoms, and underwear, were out of her way. you let out a needy mewl as she slid the tip through your already wet folds, riling you up, just like that.

when your eyes closed as an answer, abby tutted, and moved one of her large hands down to grab you by the chin. “look at me,” she demanded.

and who the hell would you be to deny that?

your eyes were weak and needy as they met abby’s, pupils big with just a touch of fear, heart pounding in your ears. abby spoke firmly, and you could tell that she wasn’t playing around.

you had left fun and games behind the second you walked into this room.

“you’re gonna take this dick as much as i want you to, over and over again. n’ i’m gonna fuck you rough, ‘til you’re babbling out nonsense. do you hear me?”

your body felt paralyzed when those words left abby’s lips, her tone dripping in anger. you couldn’t manage much, and all you could do was nod. but she was not having that.

she squeezed down on your chin, which made you whimper out. “words.”

“y- yes, ma’am, i- i understand,” you weakly muttered out, and that seemed to suffice for her. abby let up on her grip, and her hand moved down from your chin to your lips.

“good. now suck.”

you didn’t delay. you opened your mouth for abby to push her fingers inside of it, index and ring beginning to fuck it. abby could feel your drool as she pumped the two fingers in and out of you, your tongue eagerly wrapping around them.

she doesn’t give a damn in the world as she pounds them to the back of your throat, making you gag, and your eyes close and roll back as she does so.

not for long.

“open your eyes. keep ‘em on me,” abby says in a rough tone, and you oblige a little too quickly. water’s already filling the corners of your eyes, and abby can see that when she looks at you.

and she’s barely begun.

“crying for me already, hm? why am i not surprised?” abby couldn’t help but mock you. you looked so feeble like this, choking on her fingers like the whore you were.

“i’d save your tears, honey. ‘cause there’s a lot more where this came from.”

just as you’re beginning to get used to the rough feeling of abby fucking your face with her fingers, she pulls them out, and you let out a small whimper of disapproval.

but it quickly blends into a moan.

her index and ring, the two fingers that you had just had your tongue around, that were soaked in your drool, pushed inside of you without so much as a warning.

“oh, f- fuck, abby,” you moaned as the suddenness of the moment took over your senses. your thighs clenched around her as she skillfully pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt, just as she had so many times in the past.

abby used her other hand to pry your thighs back open. “ah ah, baby. spread your legs for me.”

just when you figured this couldn’t get any more forceful, abby was pushing a third finger inside of you, her middle one, and using her thumb to rub your clit.

your response was way too fast as you grabbed one of abby’s broad shoulders, digging your fingernails into the freckled skin on it. you let out a loud moan as your eyes squeezed shut, letting it all sink in. three of abby’s fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your wet pussy as she thumbed your clit like a fucking pro.

“fuckfuckfuck,” you groaned, and, god, did abby like that. barely begun with you, and you were already drunk off her touch.

but then again, that’s how it always went.

“look at you, fucking soaked for me. needy bitch,” abby degraded you mercilessly as she curled her fingers inside of you, easily hitting your g-spot.

“mmph, abby…” you could barely manage.

“hush,” she said harshly. your gaze moved up to hers as she fingered you, her usual pale blue eyes big, pupils enlarged. it was clear that she wasn’t letting up any time soon. “don’t talk unless i say you can.”

you didn’t.

abby had you soaking her fingers in your release soon enough, your orgasm spilling over you. she pulled her fingers out of you and moved them to her lips, leaving not even one drop behind as she sucked them dry. the view filled your abdomen with butterflies: that was for damn sure.

if this is how she made you feel with your fingers, you could hardly imagine her dick.

and abby didn’t delay. you didn’t get even a second to process before she was lining the tip of the silicone toy to your cunt, and pushing into you forcefully.

“abby, w- wait, fuck. t- too soon,” you whimpered, but you knew abby didn’t give a shit about what you had to say. she shushed you with her hand, putting her fingers past your lips once more.

“don’t care. you’re gonna take this cock like a good fucking girl,” she emphasized the word as she thrust into you hard. “and i don’t wanna hear shit. got that?”

you nodded, and didn’t try to speak again. you just did what abby wanted you to, sucking on her long fingers to keep you occupied while she pounded into your pussy.

“clara can’t fuck you this good, can she, baby?” abby rasped as each thrust grew more ravenous, both fingers pushing deeper.

so that’s what this was all about. well, really, you figured as much. you knew clara’s behavior would somehow bite you in the ass. but now that you had abby’s words to confirm it, you couldn’t be more sure.

you did what you could to shake your head, but let’s be real. it was abby fucking anderson. speechlessness was never an answer in her books. she took her fingers out of your mouth for the last time, eager to hear you talk now.

“say it.”

“n- no, abby. s’just you. s’only you,” your tongue slurred as the words left your lips, and abby couldn’t help but get off on the way you were speaking, a smug smirk on her face.

“mmhm. only i get to fuck this pretty pussy of yours, y’hear me?” abby let out in a grunt, her drool covered hand settling onto your neck, squeezing down. she was fucking you hard, no mercy as her hips thrust aggressively, pushing herself as deep inside of you as she could possibly go.

you were more than okay with that.

“y- yes, ma’am,” you let out a groan of your own as abby rutted her hips into you, eyes locked on hers. “i’m yours. a- all yours.”

you were a whining and whimpering mess as abby gave you a nod of approval, hand gripping your neck like it was her lifeline. “that’s a good whore. mine and no one else’s.”

“how do you think days like today make me feel, huh? fucking bitch with her hands all over you, gawking at you like you’re hers. well, let me tell you somethin’,” abby snarls. she pulls out of you, tip pressed to your folds, and for a moment, you think she’s going to make you beg for her to fuck you once more. but just like that, she’s slamming back inside, going, arguably, deeper than she had before.

“she doesn’t get to have you. no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good. no one’s ever gonna love you like i do. you’re all fucking mine, like it or not. got that?”

you’re not surprised by the aggression in her tone, but, damn, is she pissed. you can feel her anger seep into your skin as she fucks you like a toy, addresses you like a doll.

and you let her.

“m’sorry, abby, m’so sorry. i know i’m yours. i’m yours, swear to god i am. m’so sorry,” you moan dumbly as she squeezes your neck.

which you’re sure will have marks to show for it tomorrow.

“i know you are, baby,” abby rasps. her hand moves from her neck to your thigh now, and she digs her fingernails into it as she slams into you. “and you fucking should be.”

and again, abby has you cumming, her name rolling off your tongue like music as, this time, it’s her cock you soak in your release. “there you go, honey. know you like when i fuck this pussy like this. that’s it,” abby whispered.

your brain was way too foggy with the aggression of this session with your girlfriend to get your words out properly.

what was is it that abby had said about making you babble again?

“f- fuck, abby. oh, fuck,” you whined, body tired from receiving your second orgasm that evening. but abby was nowhere near done with you: both of you knew that.

abby didn’t speak as she pulled herself out of you, grabbing you by the hips and flipping your body over, so that you were no longer on your back. she forced you onto all fours, your ass poking up into the air. she yanks your bottoms fully off of you from behind, underwear following, and settles her hands onto your ass.

“abby, come on, please,” you all but cry out. you’re not sure how much you can take, not when it’s so sudden, anyway. abby’s anger is slowly going away, your caring girlfriend coming back little by little. but you weren’t quite there yet.

“you’ve got one more in you, baby, i know you do,” abby says softly, and she circles her thumbs over your ass. the move is almost loving.

“and you’re gonna take it, like the good slut you are. mkay?”

like you said. almost.

you grumble, but you can’t say no. not only did you not want to, but when it came to abby, that was one of the last things on your mind. probably. . .not a good idea. so, “mkay,” is what you say in response.

“good girl. can fuck you better like this, anyway,” abby hums. she begins to take your shirt off, and you lift your arms up to help her remove you tank top. and then, who’s surprised, she unhooks your bra with ease, discarding it on the floor somewhere.

the feeling’s familiar as abby pushes inside of your aching pussy once more. you’re sore and tired, brain fucked out from abby’s belligerence. but you need her, just as much as you need the very oxygen in your lungs.

and she needs you.

as if this isn’t enough, her arms move under yours, and squeeze each of your tits. it quickly reminds you of the way clara spotted you earlier, because that was one of the very things that had caused this in the first place.

but this felt so much better.

your eyes rolled back into your head as abby rubbed hard circles into your nipples, eager and needy to get you off for the third time in a row. she knew it wouldn’t be long now. each time she fucked you like this, round after round, your orgasms came in quick successions.

literally.

abby was pushing into your g-spot once again, and the feeling of it all was almost too much. if she wanted you to babble, then she got it: because there was no other way to describe the words spilling from your lips.

“a- abby, fuck, please don’t stop. you feel s- so good, f- fuck, please.” you weren’t making any sense by now, at least not to yourself. but abby knew what you wanted.

because she knew just how to please you.

“keep moaning, baby. you sound adorable,” abby chuckled as she fucked you, hips pushing deep into a spot you didn’t even know you had. “all cockdrunk off this dick, like the whore you are. my whore.”

she just had to add that. for good measure.

“tell me how much you like it. tell me how much you like it when i pound your pussy like this.”

you were licking your lips in the neediest way as she pressed her thumbs into your tits. you couldn’t help but push yourself back into her, that fucking needy for her. “i- i love it, abby. love it so much, fuck. you fuck me so good.”

abby moved one of her hands back from your tit and onto your ass, and gave you a small spank there. “fuck, yeah, i do. never gonna get it this good from anyone else, are you, baby? not clara, not any other bitch. just me, yeah?”

“mmph, mhm,” you murmured, and, fuck, were you on the brink. of course no one else could fuck you like this. no one could fuck like this period. some days, you wished the world could see just what abby anderson had to offer.

but that would involve a hell of a lot of sharing that you didn’t want to do.

“aw, i’m fucking you dumb, huh, baby? can’t even get a word out. dumb fucking slut,” abby smirked, slapping your ass one more time, then massaging the red mark with her thumb. “who do you belong to, hm?”

abby wasn’t wrong. your brain was fogged up, cloudy as she slammed into you from the back, and you couldn’t even see as your eyes rolled back into your head for the millionth time over. your words came out messy, drunken, incoherent. “i- i b—i’m—yours, i b- belong to—to you.”

you could feel your third orgasm bubbling up inside of you as abby pounded you from the back, and she had both hands on your tits once more, gripping both of them as she thumbed at your nipples. your face was hot, your lewd moans filling the room to the brim, as abby filled you.

“f- fuck, abby, don’t stop,” you whimpered out, and you had never sounded so broken before. “g- gonna cum.”

well, that much was obvious.

abby didn’t hold you back. she encouraged you with each thrust of her hips, every one increasing in speed with each second that passed by. she was a pro at this, and she knew it.

“that’s it, honey. cum on my cock, loud, like you mean it. wanna hear you scream for me,” she said with a small grunt, and she said it like it was a demand.

you obeyed.

you were yelling your girlfriend’s name as white spilled all over the silicone that was her dick, a series of pornographic moans falling from your swollen lips. your expression was just that, too: lewd, broken, because you had never been fucked like that in your life.

for the last time, abby pulled out of you, and unsecured the harness around her torso. once she put it to the side, she couldn’t help but put her fingers to your pussy for the last time, scooping a bit of your white release onto them. you shuddered as she did so, and looked behind you, just to see her suck her fingers off.

you lay limp on the bed as abby got up to grab a small towel. gingerly, she began to wipe your body clean, beginning with your thighs. she kissed up them as she did it, and it was so, so different to the way she had been manhandling you mere seconds beforehand.

that was abby for you.

once you were both clean, abby laid down beside you, and pulled you close to her body. she put her hands on your waist, and pressed a kiss to your forehead as you snuggled into her broad chest. you didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that you were the only one naked.

if abby didn’t care, then neither did you.

“you okay, baby? wasn’t too rough with you, was i?” abby asked, her thumb circling your cheek. you smiled up at her, a rush of butterflies soaring inside your abdomen at the small rasp in the way she cooed.

“no, abs. not at all. i mean, i always knew you got jealous, but—wow,” you couldn’t help your giggle.

abby feigned annoyance by giving you an eye roll, but you could tell that she was just being playful. besides, it’s not like she could deny the fact. so she smirked. “what can i say? you just have that effect on me. besides, you have to admit—clara was way too close for comfort.”

“mmhm,” you hum.

“but maybe that was a good thing.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

[littlelamy]

could you do one where rafe and reader have known each other since they were kids. where they played pretend marriage and rafe has always believed it was real even when they were kids and some girl tries to come between that but it doesn’t happen.

love your writing

a/n: thank you so much! I hope you enjoy it! 💗🤍

rafe cameron had always been a part of your life. from the time you were toddlers, running through your backyard with imaginary crowns on your heads, to the moment you both said your pretend vows underneath that old oak tree. you were six, maybe seven, and it had been all fun and games—at least for you. rafe, on the other hand, took the "marriage" very seriously, even as kids. "you're my wife now," he’d say with a grin, tugging you along whenever someone tried to play with you. you always brushed it off as rafe just being rafe.

but now, as you stood at another one of toppers' parties, you noticed something had shifted. maybe it was the way rafe had been more possessive lately, a hand always at your waist, or the way he’d glare at any guy who got too close. then there was jessica—new girl, pretty, and definitely interested in rafe.

“so, are you and rafe, like, together?” she asked you casually one day at school, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. there was something smug in her tone that made your skin crawl.

“we’re just friends,” you said, even though the words felt wrong coming out of your mouth. were you really just friends?

"oh, that’s good to know," jessica had smirked, and you knew she had plans.

tonight, you watched from the corner of the room as she slid up to rafe, placing a hand on his arm and laughing a little too loud at something he said. your stomach twisted, but you told yourself it didn’t matter. you and rafe were just friends—childhood friends with a long history of playing pretend, but that was it. still, your feet started moving before you could stop them, weaving through the crowd toward them.

“hey, rafe,” you called out, slipping into the space between him and jessica like it was the most natural thing in the world. his eyes lit up when he saw you, that same boyish smile he’d always had whenever you were near.

“there you are,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder like it belonged there. and maybe it did.

jessica’s expression faltered for just a second before she plastered on another smile. “oh, hey. i was just telling rafe we should go out sometime. get to know each other better.”

before you could even process her words, rafe chuckled. “yeah, i’m gonna have to pass on that.”

jessica blinked, clearly thrown off. “what? why?”

rafe’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair. “i’m already married,” he said, his tone light but firm.

you froze, heart pounding. "rafe—"

"we got married when we were seven," he added with a grin, not giving you a chance to finish. "i’ve been off the market since then."

jessica laughed awkwardly, clearly not getting the joke. “wait, you’re serious?”

rafe shrugged, pulling you closer. “dead serious.”

it took everything in you not to laugh at the confused look on jessica’s face, but the truth was, you didn’t know if rafe was actually joking. he looked so calm, so sure of himself, like this was the most natural thing in the world. like he really did believe you were his wife, even now.

“uh, okay. whatever,” jessica muttered, clearly flustered as she backed away, shooting you a look before disappearing into the crowd.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking up at rafe. “what was that?”

he raised an eyebrow. “what was what?”

“you just told her we were married!”

rafe grinned down at you, his blue eyes sparkling. “because we are. or did you forget?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “rafe, we were kids. that doesn’t count.”

“it counts to me,” he said, his voice softening. “you promised, remember? you said you’d always be mine.”

your heart skipped a beat. “we were pretending.”

“maybe you were,” he shrugged. “but i wasn’t.”

you stared at him, unsure of what to say. all these years, you thought it was just a silly childhood game, something you both would laugh about when you got older. but rafe... he had never stopped believing it.

“rafe…” you started, but he cut you off, stepping closer so that his forehead nearly touched yours.

“you’re mine,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “and i’m yours. it’s always been that way.”

suddenly, the party seemed to fade away, the sounds of people laughing and music blaring becoming a distant hum. all you could focus on was rafe—his words, his touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

and maybe you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[rafecameronssl4t]

omggg I have oneeee🤭

ALSO I LOVE YOUR FICS

so fmc is out with her bestfreinds, the kook boys- Kelce ,top and rafe for lunch and waiter Sofia attempting to flirt with rafe but our man only has eyes on his girl. ♥️ mc ends up teasing rafe after the incident cause of the attention he’s getting and rafe teasing her back asking her if she’s jealous hehe

Jealousy, Jealousy || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: half of me feels bad about Sofia in these type of fics but remember Rafe wants YOU and ONLY you 😋

Warnings: nothing really :)

Word count: 836

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

“She’s coming again,” Kelce muttered under his breath, nudging Rafe with a knowing smirk. Rafe fought the urge to roll his eyes, the annoyance evident in his tightened jaw. Topper chuckled, both he and Kelce watching as Sofia approached their table, her steps light and deliberate.

Her presence was unmistakable, and her eyes were locked onto Rafe. “Hey, anyone need another drink?” Sofia’s voice was bright and cheerful, but her gaze lingered on Rafe just a fraction too long.

He resolutely kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, focusing intently on a spot somewhere behind Kelce, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his attention.

Topper glanced at Rafe, sensing his discomfort, before answering for the group. “Nah, we’re all good here, thanks.” His tone was polite but firm. Sofia nodded, her smile unwavering. “All right, just let me know if you need anything.”

As she turned to leave, her eyes subtly drifted over Rafe, as if hoping for a reaction. Rafe’s frustration simmered just below the surface, and he couldn’t suppress a scoff. Fishing out his phone, he quickly texted you, his fingers tapping out the message with a mix of impatience and frustration.

From the moment they had arrived at the country club for lunch, Sofia had been constantly hovering around them, her attention mostly focused on Rafe. No matter how many hints he dropped about being content and committed to his relationship with you, she just didn’t seem to get it.

Rafe: When are you coming?

Y/n: In like 10 minutes!!!

Rafe let out a sigh of relief as he read your reply, his tension easing slightly. Shutting off his phone, he cast a hopeful glance towards the front entrance, silently wishing you would appear any second.

After about ten minutes, the front doors swung open, revealing you and Sarah. Engaged in lively conversation, the two of you walked through the entrance, laughter bubbling between you. Rafe’s face lit up at the sight, and he immediately stood up, making his way toward you with an eager smile.

As Rafe strode across the room, Sofia rounded a corner, her eyes lighting up as she saw him heading in her direction. “Hey, Rafe—” she began, her voice hopeful. But Rafe didn’t even glance her way, brushing past her without a second thought, his focus entirely on you. The smile on Sofia’s face faltered, her heart sinking as she turned to watch him.

“Hey, babe,” Rafe greeted you warmly, his hands finding their way to the back of your neck as he pulled you into a deep kiss. Sarah, standing beside you, rolled her eyes and let out a mock gag. “Jesus,” she muttered, shaking her head before wandering off to give you two some space.

You smiled into the kiss, feeling Rafe’s affection and urgency. Pulling away slightly, you chuckled. “What was that for?” you asked, your eyes twinkling with amusement as he peppered kisses along your cheek.

“Nothin’, just missed you,” Rafe mumbled against your skin, his voice low and filled with sincerity. You couldn’t help but giggle at his tenderness, feeling warmth spread through you.

With his arm wrapped securely around your back, Rafe guided you towards the table where his friends were seated. As you approached, Kelce and Topper exchanged knowing looks, smirking at Rafe’s obvious delight. Sofia, now back behind the bar, watched from a distance.

“Thank God you’re here,” Topper quipped as you approached, a grin spreading across his face. “I thought Rafe’s jaw would break from all the clenching he’s been doing.” You raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Rafe, who was pointedly looking away. “Why? What happened while I wasn’t here?” you asked, chuckling.

“Sofia’s what happened,” Topper continued, and your confusion deepened. “Seems that pogue’s got a thing for your man here.” Rafe let out a scoff. “You think? She could barely keep her eyes off me.”

You glanced back at Sofia, who quickly looked away when your eyes met. “She kept looking at you, did she?” you asked, your arm protectively wrapping around Rafe’s neck. He smirked, enjoying your reaction.

“Aren’t you popular with pogues these days, hmm?” you teased, giving Rafe a playful nudge. He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Mhmm, you jealous, baby?” Rafe asked, his tone light and teasing.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “‘M not,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I know you’re mine anyways,” you shrugged, feeling his smirk against your skin as his hand came up to rest on your hip. “Always,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

[nanaslutt]

GOJO W THE MAKING OUT COVERTLY DURING A MISSION TROPE PLSSSPLSPLS

contains: fem reader, third-year Gojo(19), accidental recording, inexperienced reader & Gojo, getting caught, exhibitionism, thigh riding, clothed hand job, Gojo cums in his pants, making out, dirty talk, sexual tension

MDNI

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

Your chest was pressed to Gojo's, the air in the room stuffy and hot as you tried to shuffle your bodies around, trying to give each other some room to breathe. The recorder clipped to Gojo's chest was probably suffocating with the loud rubbing of your clothes against him. "Just- fuck- scoot that way- ouch no- the other way-" You whispered into the small space, thanking the universe for the darkness of the stuffy closet, saving you the embarrassment of Gojo's teasing if he saw how red your face was.

--

Yaga had sent the two of you on a mission together, the objective--get recorded proof of a certain suspected jujutsu high assistant leaking crucial information to curse users. Gojo was a third year now, just having had his nineteenth birthday, and he was more than capable of handling missions on his own. However, Yaga absolutely did not trust Gojo with such a mission on his own, the young man always returned to the school with hundreds of thousands of property damage under his belt for the school to deal with.

This wasn't exactly the type of mission one could just bust in the room and take everybody down, it was a stealth mission, which Gojo was absolutely not equipped for. You weren't at the stage where you could take on a mission by yourself, but Yaga knew how great you were at calming a young and cocky Satoru down, which is how you ended up coming on this assignment with the white-haired man.

The two of you had made your way without a hitch to the meeting point, Gojo quick on your tail as he practically bounced with joy behind you, strolling with you through the dimly lit building. "Ahh~ This is sooo much fun, when's the last time we got sent on a mission together?" he asked, poking his head out in your peripheral vision. "This isn't supposed to be fun, Satoru. Do you know how much I liked Ms. Yae? I cant believe shes a traitor." You whispered.

Gojo pulled his head back, pursing his lips together as his long legs easily kept up with your fast pace. "Hmm.. I don't know if I ever knew her, but I guess it does suck, yeah.. but try to see the good in this~ You get to spend an entire mission with me~" He giggled behind you, too loudly for your liking. You stopped in your tracks, turning to look at him, "Satoru, she was our driver for the entirety of our first AND second year, and be quiet, you're talking too loud."

Gojo pouted, tilting his head at you, "Rude, I am not-" A door squeaking open around the corner followed by two people talking interrupted Gojo, as did your hand that you quickly pressed agaisnt his lips, shutting him up. You held your breath, waiting to see what was going to happen next. You felt Gojo smile behind your hand at how panicky you were at such a thing.

Your heart sped up in your chest when their footsteps started to echo in the hall, coming closer to where the two of you stood. "Fuck." You whispered under your breath, your hand leaving Gojo's mouth as you whipped your body around, trying to think of somewhere to hide. Gojo didn't fully understand how to teleport to long distances yet, but he could've easily moved the two of you to another floor. Of course, he would do no such thing though, he was having a great time watching you scurry around like a mouse in a maze.

"That's not good~" He whispered, giggling under his breath. You set your eyes on a door only a few feet away, from the outside it looked like an entrance to a fairly spacious room too; perfect for eavesdropping on their conversation. "Cmere," You whispered to Gojo, taking his large hand in yours you dragged him towards the door, trying to move as quickly as possible as it sounded like the footsteps were getting closer and closer.

You swung the door open, the old hinges making a loud squeak that made you cringe as you threw Gojo's body into the space and closed the door on yourself as quick as you could. You didn't expect your back to come into contact with a hard surface, covering the entirety of your back. "Hu-?" You felt a pair of warm hands grab your waist, gripping you softly. "Woah~ If you wanted a little more privacy you shoulda just said so~" Gojo cooed, tipping his head at you, even though you couldn't see him in the pitch blackness.

Upon further inspection as you pushed his hands off of your waist, ignoring the heat of your face, you found there were dry mop heads and brooms around you, something that felt like a jacket was hanging behind Gojo, and something; presumably a mop bucket; was sat at the back of the small space, limiting the already small surface area the two of you had to share.

"Fuck, we're in a closet." You whispered out loud, more to yourself than to the man you were pressed agaisnt. "Ooh really? How did you figure that out~?" Gojo teased. A quiet 'oww' spilled from the man's lips when you swung your arm in his general direction. God you did not need this right now, Gojo might be cocky, rude, overall obnoxious, and loud, but you have been harboring the biggest crush on him for a year. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a closer with him, your ass pressed against his crotch, in a high-risk situation.

You tried not to think about how good he smelled; expensive was the first word that came to mind. It was already obnoxiously hot in the closet, and all the blood rushing to your face didn't help the feeling of suffocation one bit.

You spun your body around, pressing your hands to his chest so you no longer had to feel his crotch against you, figuring this way would be less embarrassing. "Ooh is this like seven minutes in heaven? Shoko told me about this game once, you got a timer on you?" Gojo joked. You could feel his fingers fiddling with the drawstrings on the bottom of your jacket, the simple action you were barely able to feel was enough to send shivers down your spine.

"What was that?" A familiar voice spoke when the pair you were supposed to be stalking rounded the corner. "Shhh-" You hushed Gojo, hitting his chest gently with your hand so as to not cause any more sound as you tried to ignore his attempts at riling you up and instead focused on the task at hand. "It's okay, they're not gonna find us," Gojo assured, completely ignoring your instruction of him to stay quiet.

"If you keep running your mouth they might." You poked, gripping his shirt unconsciously as you held your breath, praying he was right. "Oh, so it's okay for you to talk?" Gojo whisper yelled, resulting in you kicking his shin- or what you thought was his shin. A wooden broomstick fell against the bucket, creating a loud bang inside the small closet. You scrunched your face up, cringing at your stupic mistake.

"Who's there?" The man's voice yelled, making your heart beat out of your chest. "You did it now, huh?" Gojo teased, giggling. How he was still able to laugh in this situation was beyond you, if you didn't think of something fast, you were going to ruin the mission and get smacked on the back of the head by Yaga himself. Your mind was spinning a mine a minute, you frantically tried to think of something, anything.

Worst case you could knock them out if you had to, fuck, was there someone at Jujutsu High who could erase memories? Fat chance. One thing did come to mind though, and it was almost sure to work, as long as it was the curse user who opened the door, If Ms. Yae was the one to open the door you would have to think fast, you always were quick on your feet, you would figure it out surely. After about three seconds of pondering, you decided to hedge your bets.

"Satoru, go with it." You whispered. Reaching through the darkness you found his face with little effort, grabbing his cheeks in your hands he could barely mutter a 'huh?' before he felt your lips on his. His eyes went wide, a shocked hum leaving his lips as you slotted your lips against his, starting a makeout. His hands found yours once more, he slipped his knee between your legs, making you moan softly as he stepped forward and pressed your back into the wall, chasing your lips with his hungrily.

Soft moans and hums were released into the air as he kissed you with passion, his soft tongue licking against your lips, trying to test the waters catching you off guard. You reciprocated, poking your tongue out to meet his. "mmmm" He moaned into the kiss when he felt your tongue meet his, the two tangling with each other sloppily.

You tangled your hands in his hair, ruffling the soft strands and messing up his fluffy hair as you held onto it for dear life. He pressed his knee against your cunt harder, making you moan against his lips. You weren't sure if he knew what he was doing, but you were sure if he kept this up there was going to be a decently sized wet patch on his knee from your arousal seeping through your panties.

The two of you kissed like you were both injected with poison and the antidote was in the other's throat. Like neither of you have had a drop of water in decades, like-

The door swung open, both of your heads snapping to the wrinkled old man's face as the light illuminated the both of you. He took in your states with a brief one-over, Ssatoru's knee was pressed against your panty-clad cunt, your skirt riding up in the process. His hair was standing in every direction, both of your lips were blushed a dark pink, and your faces had a color to match, the two of you breathing heavily as you stared at the man like you were waiting for him to close the door so you could continue.

"What is it?" The Jujutsu assistant said, standing behind the man at an angle where she couldn't see the two of you. "Ugh, just some kids hooking up." He replied with a disgusted look on his face, slamming the door on the two of you and leaving you in the darkness and heat of the room once more.

The volume of your breaths was accentuated by the silence in the closet. You fully expected Gojo to say something snarky now that you had been caught and it was over, but he stayed quiet, heavily breathing, you could feel his hot breaths hit your face. The adrenaline pumping through your veins from kissing him and getting caught was making you feel dizzy. "So.." you whispered, breaking the silence.

The faint tickle of his lips against yours made your body jerk at the unexpected feeling. He had brought his lips close again, what was he doing? It was over.. right? Gojo licked his lips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "You're a good kisser." He said, his breath teasing your skin when he spoke. "Y-yeah?" You had no idea what to do, you weren't used to seeing him like this. "Yeah..I guess we should go now huh?" He replied, licking his lips again as he kept them hovering in front of your own.

The warmth of his mouth radiating so close to yours was driving you crazy. The heartbeat you felt in your cunt was vibrating your whole body from how aroused you were at his situation. "Yeah, guess so." You responded, making no effort to pull your lips away. "Okay." He said, pressing his lips against yours but not closing the small distance in slotting them together. "Okay.." You said back, taking the initiative as you kissed him softly.

He kissed you back slowly, your lips separating in a lewd smack before the connected once more, the kiss speeding up, starting slowly.. slowly.. before Gojo decided he had enough and pressed his head into yours, deepening the kiss. "Mph-" You moaned against him when he slid his hands down to your ass and pulled your hips closer to him, rubbing your cunt along his thigh in the process.

You don't think you've ever been so aroused in your life, something deep within you was coiling around itself, making a need ache through your entire body. "Tell me to stop," Gojo whispered between kisses, digging his nails deeper into the fat of your ass. You wined at his words, pulling your lips back you let one of your hands in his hair slide down to the side of his face, caressing the skin there. You used your thumb to blindly find his lip in the dark, pulling it down before you let it bounce back into place. You pressed your lips to his once more, the two of you breathing heavily into the other's mouth, "I can't." You replied.

He groaned at your words before he smashed your lips together once more. The way you were whining and grinding on his thigh so needily made him feel like he was going to pass out. He needed this so bad, he's wanted this for so long and it was finally happening, all because you had kicked a broom instead of him. He smirked when your hips stuttered, your mouth opening in a slightly louder moan.

"Fuck, you wet?" He whispered needily against your lips, kissing you with fevor. "Mhm," you replied with a whine, humping your cunt along his thigh. The young man groaned at your response, it was then that you felt his hard-on digging into your thigh through his pants. He continues to massage your ass, helping you grind your needy pussy along his thigh as he panted into your mouth. "You feel me?" he asked, pressing his hips into your thigh, letting you feel the imprint of his cock along your leg.

It must've been the sensory deprivation because you were feeling everything tenfold, just the drag of his clothed cock on your thigh alone send a gush of arousal into your panties, your face heating up as you wined into the kiss. "You're so hard.." You whispered back, starting to slide your hand down his chest. "Yeah, all cos of you.. keep going." He encouraged impatiently, nodding against you as he waited to feel your hand on him.

He wanted to see you so bad, wanted to see what kind of expression you were making while you got off on his thigh, what your reaction would be to feeling his cock, how flushed your face was, but this would have to suffice for now. You continued your pursuit for his cock, dragging your hand teasingly over the ridges of his abs, his hip bones, thigh, and finally--his cock. Gojo let you know with a loud groan and affirmation of, "Right there." That you had grabbed his cock in your hand.

"I- I don't know what to do." You admitted, pausing your grinding on his hips as you were suddenly hit with a wave of unsureness. You had never touched someone else before, the only person you've ever kissed was Shoko in a game of spin the bottle once in your second year, you had no idea what you were doing. "I don't either." Gojo laughed, easing the tension you felt in your body and mind at the prospect that he would be disappointed because you had no idea how to please him.

"But humping my leg feels good for you, right?" He asked, to which you nodded briefly, a verbal response coming a little delayed when you forgot he could't see you. "And I know when you touch me like you're doing right now, it feels really good." The man pressed his forehead to yours, massaging your ass in his hands. "So just keep doing that." He whispered, before you felt his lips on yours once more.

"M-mmm" You moaned against him when you felt his hands push you harder along his thigh, trying to help you maintain a pace that would feel good for you. He let shaky breaths escape through his nose as he felt your hand rub and squeeze his cock through his pants. You were going at it with no rhyme or rhythm, but the sloppy technique felt surprisingly good, any form of pressure on his throbbing cock surely would've, he's never been this worked up before.

"I-it's so big." You whimpered against his lips, the praise making him release a shameless groan. "Yeah? wish you could see it." He replied with a short giggle, being cut off by a moan when you unconsciously squeezed around his tip just right. You whined when his leg shifted just right against your clit, giving you the perfect amount of friction at just the right angle. "F-fuck Toru right there-" You gasped, tipping your head back into the wall, the hard surface colliding with your skull, creating a small bump sound.

"Here?" He asked genuinely, using the leverage he had on your ass to pull you down hard against his thigh, making you jolt forward at the intense stimulation. "O-ohmy- yesyes-" You whined, shutting your eyes. Satoru chased for your lips in the dark, thankful you couldn't see him floundering around. It didn't take him long to realize your head was tipped back against the wall. Bending his slender neck down he found yours with his lips, pressing sloppy kisses into the skin there.

"Do you think you can cum from this?" He asked, trailing the kisses up your ear until he found the shell of it, biting and sucking the skin there. "Mhm I- I think so, f-feels like it." His brain almost short-circuited, his cock throbbed against your hand that was jerking him off weakly, pausing every so often when you felt a particularly good sensation. He couldn't believe his ears, you were going to cum, on his thigh, he was going to make you cum.

He swore just thinking about you unraveling on his thigh made his orgasm feel like it could wash over him at any moment, his whole body set on fire with sensitivity and arousal. "Feels like 'ur gonna cum?" He clarified, noticing how your hips started losing their pace against him. "Fuck- yes- nghhhh-" You moaned, clenching your teeth together a you felt the coil tie itself tighter it knots.

"Cum on my thigh pretty, I- I need to hear it," Gojo begged, making out with any inch of skin he could find with his lips. You were sure your neck was going to be a mess when you were finished here, but it felt too good to care. "Satoru- shit, I think I'm- gonna~" You blushed at your own words, the blush only deepening when he released a deep groan, pulling you back and forth along his thigh rapidly as he tried to bring you to your orgasm as your hips proved to be useless now.

"Shit-" Gojo was breathing heavily against your neck through his nose, the breathing coming out stuttered when he felt you come undone on his thigh, feeling his own orgasm begin to crash over him. "Oh fuuuuck-" The young man groaned, listening to your every wonton moan that spilled from your lips as your hips stuttered along his thigh, your whines and breaths coming out choppy as you came.

Gojo abandoned one of his hands on your ass, bringing it on top of yours that was weakly caressing his coc. He wrapped his hand over yours, messily interlacing your fingers as he jerked himself off using your hand, feeling the warm spurts of his cum spill into his boxers. "Just like that- j-just like that baby-" Gojo whined when you had just finished coming down from your high, some semblance of rationality seeping into your body as you picked up the motions of your hand, working him through his own orgasm with his help.

When the last of Gojo's seed had been released into his pants, you squeezed over his softening bulge one last time, his breath hitches as his hand curled his fingers over yours and pulled you off of his sensitive softening cock. "D-did you.." You asked vaguely into the dark space, to which Gojo smiled his signature smile you wished you could've seen, "A whole fucking lot." He answered, bringing his hands back to your hips as he slid his knee out from between your thighs.

You were about to speak when you heard the voices return faintly in the distance, heels clicking to follow. That's right, you were on a mission right now, Yaga had not, in fact, sent you to this old building to get yourself off of your classmate's thigh. The echoing got louder as they passed the room, muffled words could be heard through the door of the closet. "I'll send the information of the students over next, see you next time." Before goodbyes were exchanged, and the sound of a heavy entrance door opened and closed behind the Jujutsu high traitor.

"Oh shit, how lucky is that." Gojo laughed, realizing the two of you had got the information you needed just in time. "You think Yaga will mind the first ten minutes of this tape is a porno?" Gojo laughed. Oh my god, the tape recorder. Maybe you weren't so lucky after all.