#the way she’s just sprawled over his chest???

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you.

Pairing: JJ x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Synopsis: the pogues spend a day on the boat, when the kooks drop by in an unexpected visit

masterlist

A/N: This series takes place before season 1!, Rafe is a year older and Sarah and John B are not together (yet)

----

The sun hung lazily in the sky, its light spilling through the half-open windows of the Chateau. A familiar hum of conversation and laughter filled the room—nothing urgent, just the easy chatter of friends who had been through it all together. The Pogues were scattered about, each doing their own thing, but as usual, everything seemed to orbit around JJ’s chaotic energy. He was perched on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, cracking jokes with Pope, while Kie sprawled across the floor, flicking through an old magazine she’d probably never seen before.

Y/N sat in the armchair by the window, tucked away in the corner of the room, her knees drawn up to her chest. The sunlight slanted across her face, but it didn’t quite warm her. She let the conversation wash over her, her attention flickering between the others, but never quite landing. 

Her fingers drummed lightly against the armrest, a subtle rhythm to match the hum of the house. She’d always felt a little like this—tuned in but separate. A quiet force, content to observe, to hold the space between the noise. She loved them all in ways that went beyond words, but today, there was something off-kilter, something unsaid that sat heavily on her chest. Maybe it was the way JJ kept glancing at Kie—something different in his eyes when he looked at her. 

Kie had only been with the group for a few months, but it already felt like she’d always been here. There was a lightness about her, an ease in the way she moved through the world, something Y/N had always admired. But right now, as Kie laughed with Pope—her voice loud and carefree—Y/N couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she didn’t fit as neatly into the circle anymore. 

JJ’s laugh rang out, deep and full of life, and for a moment, Y/N forgot herself. She smiled, letting the sound sink in. It was that laugh—wild and free—that had been the soundtrack to her childhood. But then Kie said something, teasing him about the way he worked on the boat. Y/N could see the way JJ’s face softened, the way his eyes lingered on Kie a little longer than necessary. He didn’t have to say anything; she could feel it in the air, that subtle shift. 

“JJ, you gonna fix that boat or just stare at Kie all day?” Pope teased, grinning as he shot a glance toward the two of them. 

JJ shot back a playful middle finger, but his smile was softer now, gentler in a way Y/N wasn’t used to seeing. 

It’s nothing, Y/N told herself, staring out at the water, trying to chase the gnawing ache away. They’re just friends. Just like you. But she couldn’t escape the tightness in her throat. 

“Y/N, you coming with us to the boat?” JJ’s voice cut through the space, warm and casual. 

She turned, forcing a smile as their eyes met. There it was again—the same easy grin he always gave her. She should have been used to it by now, but today, it felt like a door she couldn’t quite open. 

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” she said, the words slipping out before she could think. She wanted to stay here, in the quiet, where she could nurse the ache that wasn’t quite a wound but felt like one all the same. But it wasn’t fair to stay away. Not with everything they’d been through. 

JJ paused for a second, studying her. His brow furrowed just a little, like he noticed something wasn’t right, but then he shrugged it off and stood. “Alright. See you out there.” 

As he turned to walk toward the door, Y/N’s gaze lingered on him—on the way his shoulders shifted under his old T-shirt, the way his hair fell messily over his forehead. He looked like a kid, like the JJ she’d always known. Except he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Kie again, talking animatedly, the space between them comfortable and familiar. It was an ease that made Y/N feel like she was standing just outside of it, watching them from a distance. 

What’s wrong with me?

Y/N let her gaze drop, blinking rapidly as her chest tightened. She knew it wasn’t fair. She couldn’t expect JJ to feel the same way, not when Kie was right there, effortlessly slipping into their world. 

She reached for her water bottle, her hands suddenly unsteady. Maybe it would be easier to just ignore it all. Pretend like nothing had changed. But it was hard to ignore the way JJ’s gaze lingered on Kie, and how it felt like Y/N was the one left in the background, hoping to be noticed, hoping to be more than just a friend. 

---

The boat drifted lazily along the water, the sun casting golden streaks across the horizon. The Pogues were all there—comfortable, at ease, as they always were when they had the ocean to themselves. JJ steered the boat with one hand, the other resting lazily on the edge, while Pope and Kie argued over something trivial in the back. Kie’s laugh rang out, carefree, as Pope pretended to be offended.

Y/N sat at the bow, her legs dangling over the side, watching the water ripple beneath them. The peacefulness of the moment made it easy to forget the tension she’d been carrying lately, but every time she glanced at JJ, her heart would tighten. He looked so at ease—so himself—but she couldn’t help but feel like there was a wall between them, even if he didn’t notice it.

“Should we head to the cove?” John B’s voice broke through her thoughts, his eyes scanning the horizon. He stood at the back, hands on the wheel as he looked between Kie and Pope. 

Kie gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Definitely! I need a swim after all this boat gossip.”

“You’re always gossiping,” Pope teased, shaking his head, but his smile betrayed him.

Y/N smiled softly at the way they bantered. The Pogues were good at making everything feel normal, even when it was anything but. 

Then, just as they were beginning to shift course, a loud roar of an engine cut through the peace of the afternoon. Y/N squinted against the sun, eyes narrowing as a sleek red boat appeared on the horizon, blaring music that made her ears ring even from this far off.

“Of course,” JJ muttered under his breath, his tone already dripping with annoyance.

John B glanced over, brow furrowed. “Kooks.”

Y/N tensed. She recognized that boat instantly—too many of them, too familiar. Rafe was at the helm, leaning back with that smug expression he always wore, flanked by some of the other Kooks she had hoped to avoid today.

Kie laughed, a look of disgust on her face. “Maybe they’re here to join the party.”

The Kooks steered their boat closer, stopping right next to the little pogue dinghy, the music thumping louder now. A few of the guys waved at them, too many of them for Y/N to even count, and there was Rafe, standing at the front, arms folded, his eyes scanning the group. He briefly caught Kie’s eye before his gaze moved to JJ. 

Y/N felt the air shift. The familiar tension between the Kooks and Pogues was back in full force. 

“You guys really cruising around out here, huh?” Rafe called out, his voice loud enough to make Y/N flinch. There was a mocking edge to his tone, as if he’d intentionally come just to throw his presence in their faces.

“Is that what you call it?” JJ shot back, his voice flat, but his body rigid. “Can’t say we’re impressed.”

John B exchanged a glance with JJ, clearly not thrilled by the Kooks’ appearance. Pope crossed his arms and shook his head, clearly irritated but trying to keep cool.

“Maybe you guys just need a little fun,” one of the Kooks from the back shouted. He was a lanky guy with messy blonde hair, grinning like an idiot as he leaned over the edge of the boat. “Lighten up, Pogues. You all look like you could use a drink.”

Y/N could feel the frustration building in her chest, but it wasn’t the Kooks themselves that pissed her off. It was the way they acted—like they were above everyone, as if the water was theirs to pollute and ruin.

Before anyone could say anything else, the guy grabbed a couple of beer cans and tossed them toward their boat, the cans hitting the water with a sharp plunk. JJ’s eyes flashed with anger. 

“Are you kidding me?” he shouted, standing up from the wheel. “Pick that up!”

The Kook laughed. “What’s the matter, you don’t like a little fun?” He tossed another can, but this time it hit a bit too close to Y/N. 

Y/N barely had time to react before someone from the Kook boat reached over between the gap and shoved her—hard.

She stumbled backward, trying to catch herself, but her foot caught on the edge of the boat, sending her crashing into the side with a sickening thud. The wind rushed from her lungs, and for a moment, the world blurred around her.

“Y/N!” JJ’s voice cut through the daze, and she blinked rapidly, trying to push the pain out of her head. She could feel the rough edge of the boat against her back, but JJ was there, pulling her upright, his hands steady but shaking.

“You okay?” JJ’s voice was full of concern, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to assess the damage. 

“I’m fine,” Y/N managed to say, her head still spinning, though the world was beginning to come into focus. “Just a little banged up.”

But JJ wasn’t listening to her. He was already glaring at the Kooks, his jaw tight with anger. 

“You don’t touch her,” he growled, stalking toward the Kook who’d shoved her.

“Whoa, calm down, man,” the Kook said, laughing like this was all a joke. But the humor in his eyes was gone, replaced with nervousness. 

Rafe stepped forward, putting a hand on the Kook’s shoulder to steady him. There was something about Rafe’s demeanor that made Y/N pause. His usual cocky arrogance was replaced by a momentary flicker of something—regret? Maybe guilt? But it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual indifference.

“Enough,” Rafe said, his voice calm but commanding. “We’re not here to fight. Just... let it go, alright?”

JJ was still seething, but he backed off, eyes never leaving the Kooks as they started their engine and revved it up. The boat began to pull away, leaving the Pogues in their wake, the sound of the engine roaring into the distance. 

John B looked at JJ and Y/N with a raised brow. “Everything okay?”

Y/N nodded, pushing herself up slowly. “I’m good. Just a little shaken up.”

Pope gave her a worried look but said nothing. Kie, on the other hand, was already clapping her hands together, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, that was fun.”

But it wasn’t fun. None of it had been. Y/N’s head throbbed, the spot where she’d hit the boat feeling like it might bruise. More than the pain, though, it was the feeling of being caught between worlds—the world of the Pogues she belonged to, and the world of the Kooks she could never be part of. The sting of it settled deep in her chest, just like the Kooks' laughter had.

As the boat drifted, the light-hearted banter of the group didn’t quite reach her. She just sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the horizon, feeling the space between herself and everyone else grow wider.

---

By the time the Pogues returned to the Chateau, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky streaked with fiery oranges and purples. The boat was parked, and the group had made their way up the hill toward the house, their laughter and chatter from earlier fading into the quiet of the evening.

The stress from the altercation still hung heavy in the air, but for now, they were back in their element. The familiar smell of wood smoke filled the air as John B and JJ started gathering firewood for a campfire. Kie, Pope, and Y/N sat on the porch, watching the boys work as the last light of day slowly gave way to the cool night air.

“Man, I can’t believe those Kooks,” Pope muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Always gotta start something.”

Kie sighed, clearly trying to push past the tension. “At least it didn’t escalate any further. We should just let it go.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said softly, her voice quieter than usual. She had been a little off since the Kook run-in, her thoughts still a tangled mess. “They’re not just gonna let it go. They never do.”

John B overheard as he carried a pile of firewood over to the fire pit. He shot her a look of understanding. “Yeah, but we don’t have to give them what they want. That’s the trick.”

“You’re right,” Kie agreed, pulling her legs up onto the chair as she hugged her knees. “We don’t have to let them get under our skin.”

Y/N wasn’t sure she agreed. Something in her felt off, unsettled. After everything, the Kooks had left with their laughter and their mockery, and yet the real sting came later, when they were back home, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the Chateau.

A few moments later, the crackling of firewood and the sound of shifting rocks interrupted her thoughts. The fire was going strong now, the orange glow casting long shadows across the group. The Pogues settled in around the campfire, with Kie and JJ sitting together on one side, Pope and John B across from them. Y/N sat on the edge, close enough to feel part of the group but far enough to replay the events of the afternoon in her head.

Y/N wasn’t sure how it had happened, how she’d ended up slipping and hitting her head during the scuffle. One minute she’d been trying to get away from a Kook who’d pushed her too hard, the next, she’d found herself on the deck, the world spinning. Her head throbbed, and her vision blurred before she managed to sit up again, the edge of the boat’s railing digging into her back.

“Y/N!” JJ had shouted, his voice laced with panic as he rushed to her side, his expression clouded with worry. “Hey, are you alright? Shit, you okay?”

She’d tried to wave it off, but the dizziness only made it worse. “I’m fine, JJ,” she had muttered, though she wasn’t sure if she was convincing anyone, herself included.

JJ hadn’t let up. His hand had been on her shoulder, steady and warm, and when he’d helped her to her feet, he hadn’t let go until he was sure she was steady.

“I’ve got you,” he had said, his voice softer than usual, the concern in his eyes unmistakable. “Let me help.”

At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it—JJ had always been the one to jump into action when someone needed it, whether it was Pope with his academic struggles or John B with his reckless plans. But now, as she sat by the fire, her head resting against the back of the chair and the warmth of the flames flickering in front of her, she realized just how much that moment had meant.

JJ was still in the thick of it, bantering with Kie, his usual grin in place. But every now and then, his gaze flickered over to Y/N, like he couldn’t help but make sure she was okay.

Kie’s voice cut through the air, teasing JJ about something ridiculous, and JJ was laughing so hard, his shoulders shaking. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sound—JJ’s laughter was always contagious, no matter what. But as she watched him, something stirred inside her. There was a reason she had fallen for him, a reason she had always been drawn to him. And it wasn’t just because he was funny or fearless or even loyal—it was moments like this.

The way he’d stayed by her side on the boat, his face scrunched in worry when she had hit her head. The way his eyes had softened, and the way he had cared for her without question, without hesitation. It was something she had never really been able to put into words, but now, sitting there, she could see it. JJ wasn’t just a guy who took risks or made jokes—he was a guy who cared. Deeply.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a weight shift beside her. JJ had sat down next to her, his leg brushing hers in that easy, comfortable way they’d always had.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low but steady, eyes searching hers for any sign that she was still hurting.

Y/N nodded, the lingering headache still present but manageable. “Yeah. It’s just a bump. I’m fine.”

JJ’s hand hovered near her shoulder for a moment, like he wanted to reach out but was unsure. Then, without saying anything more, he simply leaned back and kicked his feet up onto the firepit edge.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he meant it. “Would’ve lost my mind if something happened to you.”

Y/N swallowed, her heart giving an unexpected jolt at his words. She knew he didn’t mean it in the way she wished, but it still made something inside her ache.

"Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely above the crackling of the flames.

A beat passed. Kie and the others were talking about something else now, their attention shifting away from the two of them. It was just JJ and Y/N for a moment, and that’s when she allowed herself to feel it—the pull toward him that had been there for years.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened. The moment she realized she was in love with him wasn’t something that could be pinpointed—it was like watching a sunset, slow and inevitable, until one day it just was.

JJ caught her gaze again, and this time, she didn’t look away. His grin was still there, but it was softer now, like he could read something in her eyes, something unspoken.

“You’re not like the others, Y/N,” he said, voice teasing but warm. “Always gotta keep an eye on you, make sure you’re okay.”

Y/N laughed, a bit of tension easing from her shoulders. “I’m used to you watching out for me,” she teased, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Someone’s gotta.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little wider. “Guess that’s my job, huh?”

It was in these moments, these small gestures, where the depth of their friendship was made clear. The way he was always there, always protective, even when he didn’t need to be. And yet, there was always a distance, a barrier Y/N could never cross.

Kie’s laughter cut through the quiet between them, and JJ’s gaze shifted over to her. The same softness was there when he looked at her, and Y/N couldn’t help the quiet pang that lodged in her chest.

“You okay?” JJ’s voice pulled her back to the present, and she smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, just... tired,” she replied, her voice steady now, though her emotions were far from it.

“Alright, well, if you need anything, you know where I am,” he said, giving her a wink. “I’ll make sure you don’t pass out on me again.”

Y/N smiled, watching him go back to the group. But as she sat there, her hand resting over her chest, she realized that JJ had been there for her in a way no one else had. And even though the ache in her heart was still there, she knew one thing for sure: she would always be there for him, no matter what.

---

next up - rafe apologizing (but trust hes super nonchalant fr)

[morelikeravenbore]

Croissants & Comfort

Or: Sebastian Sallow loves being married.

Husband!Sebastian, Domestic!Sebaura. Mild sexual references and passing mentions of nudity but otherwise sfw. Written for a discord writing event with the prompt comfort food.

Word count: 1.1k

🦋 [my HL masterlist] 🦋

Sebastian Sallow absolutely, resolutely, with every fibre of his being and inch of his damaged soul, hates cats.

While others, perhaps those more trusting than he, might coo over bright eyes and bushy tails, fluffy paws and little pink noses, Sebastian sees only the sharp claws and pointy teeth of a predator. So when one of them shows up on his doorstep meowing for his soul (or for food, who can tell when it comes to cats?), he closes the door in its little demon face and pretends he never saw it.

Likely, it’s only next door's cat coming to investigate the newly-weds who've just moved into the tiny cliffside cottage, but to him, it’s a dark omen: anything that can supposedly raise itself from the dead nine times is not the type of creature he wants anywhere near his home.

After all, he's had enough of necromancy to last him nine lifetimes of his own.

'Was there somebody at the door?' his wife calls out in French.

Wife.

Sebastian grins like an idiot. Oh, how he loves having a wife.

'Non,' he calls back. His French is still terrible, but likely this is due to the fact he can't stop kissing his French tutor (who also happens to be his wife, who he's married to) long enough to learn anything.

Practically skipping through the cottage, he finds said wife in the kitchen wearing nothing but one of his shirts. The sight of her standing there all supple-skinned and soft-haired and half-naked makes him ache in every fathomable way a husband can. Without another poorly-spoken word in French, he scoops her up, marches her off to the bedroom and forgets all about the cat at the front door.

The second time the cat comes to enquire, it’s via the half-open bedroom window on a blissful Sunday full of slow kisses, little to-no-clothing and other such marital delights. Boneless, Sebastian is sprawled gloriously naked across the bed in a patch of late-afternoon sun with a satisfied grin plastered across his face. His wife, also gloriously naked, sleeps soundly beside him, breathing sweetly on his shoulder with her arms and legs thrown haphazardly across his body. He wishes she were awake (desperately so), but after she practically fell asleep on him mid-smooch, he conceded to let her nap a while to regain her strength. Still, he can't help but trace his fingers up and down her spine, through her hair, along the curve of her waist and over the bumps of her ribcage until he's panting with barely suppressed desire—

He can't help himself — being married has ruined him.

The cat interrupts his breathless worship with a curious little chirrup through the window. Sebastian quickly preserves his modesty with a pillow (lest the cat is not actually a cat at all) and glowers at the unwanted intruder.

‘Shoo!’ he hisses, mindful not to wake the sleeping angel by his side.

When the cat refuses to shoo, he shoo's it again with a French accent.

When that fails, he lobs the pillow at it.

The third time the cat appears, it's cradled so tenderly in his wife's arms that he feels a pang of jealousy that she's not holding him to his chest like the most precious thing in the world. They both look up at him with matching sets of big, pleading eyes (hers as blue as the ocean, the cats as black as a soulless void), but Sebastian is unmoved.

‘Absolutely not,’ he says flatly, pointing at the door.

Aurélie pouts and hugs the cat tighter. ‘But she's hungry!’

‘Aurélie, no way. No.’

Sebastian doesn't mind that his wife gets whatever she wants. After all, he is at his happiest when she is — but a cat is out of the question.

After Aurélie begrudgingly puts the cat out, the only touches he gets for the rest of the night are the daggers she glares into his back; this is the first disagreement they've had as a married couple, and it kills him.

Before he crawls into bed that night, he leaves a stupid bowl of scraps out for the stupid cat.

‘I fed the cat,’ he tells his pouting wife, reaching for the soft, warm weight of her under the covers.

She turns to him, all perfectly soft sweetness, and smiles, ‘I knew you would.’

Several hours and many, many kisses later, Sebastian goes to sleep a happier husband than he'd been in waking.

He wakes up considerably less so.

Beyond the bedroom windows, the ocean is loud, smashing itself into salt against the cliffs.

The cat yowling out the back is also loud, smashing itself against the door for food (or for his soul.)

Very reluctantly, Sebastian extracts himself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, struggles into the first pair trousers he's worn in weeks and drags himself from the bedroom with every intention of giving the cat a gentle nudge up the backside with his foot. On the way through the kitchen, he commits a French sacrilege by stuffing a day-old stale pastry into his mouth before wrenching open the back door.

He glares down at the cat; she's only a wee tawny thing, but he's absolutely positive she'd try to kill him in his sleep given half a chance.

He narrows his eyes.

‘What do you want?’ he growls in English: he doesn't have the patience to butcher French at five-thirty in the morning — especially not for a cat.

The fallacious feline eyes the half-eaten pastry in his hand with a hopeful tilt of its head. Sebastian scoffs: of course the French cat wants his pastry. He expected nothing less.

With a long sigh, he sits on the top step of the porch, pastry firmly in hand. Before him, a vast horizon of sparkling turquoise ocean stretches out as far as he can see — a far-cry from the wilds of Scotland he's grown accustomed to. In the Highlands, the landscape rarely changes: for thousands of years, the scrubby heather-covered hills and rocky, sky-reaching outcroppings have stood unmoved by time or weather — consistent in its beauty, dependable in its familiarity. But in the south of France, the ocean changes day by day, hour by hour; the waves that bid him good morning are not the same that lull him to sleep at night, and though Sebastian understands that his home — his real home — dwells in the heart of the sleeping woman just inside, in France he feels… adrift.

Still, at least the food is good; a small comfort in an unfamiliar land.

He offers a scrap of pastry to the cat.

‘This isn't going to become a thing,’ he warns it.

But it does.

It becomes a thing every single morning.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x high!reader

So reader is best friends with Aaron and Aaron being Aaron accidentally gives reader a weed brownie and reader ate a lot of them so now the plastics are just dragging around an high reader

The Box of Brownies

|| poly!plastics x high!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, reader & aaron use weed underage, high reader & aaron, brief mentions of throw up but no one actually does, short drabble, fluffy

|| Summary; when the plastics come to find reader at Aaron's, they find the two high out of their minds.

Requests open!

Started; November 9th

Finished; November 9th

~~~

To say you and Aaron were best friends would be an understatement. The two of you practically hung out all the time. If someone was ever looking for one of you, they'd just have to ask the other who would almost every time know where they were.

It was pretty well into the evening. You were over at Aaron's place, enjoying the box of brownies he'd given you. The two of you just snacking together, laughing and joking around like a couple of idiots. Some time passes before the plastics come and pick you up. Being your ride home, since you don't have your drivers yet.

They walked into the house, Regina ahead of Gretchen and Karen. Finding you completely sprawled on the couch, with an empty crumb littered box in your lap. You tilted your head back over the arm rest, smiling at the sight of your girlfriends.

"Oh man, it's a bunch of angels!" You pointed to them and kicked Aaron with your foot to get his attention. He flinched and looked at you, then at the plastics with wide eyes.

"Nah, dude. It's the devil." He was just as high as you were, looking directly at Regina who scoffed and folded her arms across her chest.

"The fuck are you two idiots yapping about?" Regina raised an eyebrow. Gretchen took one look at you, then the empty brownie box and immediately connected the dots.

"Oh no... um, Regina." She gave her a gentle nudge, getting her attention as she gestured to you and the box. Regina's eyes widened when she realized what Gretchen had noticed.

"Shit." She sighed, not excited for this.

"Huh?" Karen looked at them in confusion, not getting what was going on. She was still smiling from your angel comment. Gretchen looked at Karen, giving her a soft look as she patted her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, mama."

Regina walked over to you, forcing you to your feet as you stumbled against her," you better not puke in my car."

"Yoooo, the angel's holding me! I think I'm flying." You looked back at Aaron with a stupid grin on your face. Aaron laughed and fell backwards onto the couch. Gretchen couldn't tell which of you was higher.

Regina sighed and dragged you along, bringing you outside with the other two following. Gretchen sat with you in the back while Karen took passenger seat.

How you didn't throw up on the way home they weren't sure. But Regina was damn thankful for it.

[starlight-library]

Three Musketeers Unite| LN4

pairing: ln4 + (2/4) wilson siblings

summary: Lando gets a flat on his adventure prior to the Austin GP and finds himself stuck. Luckily, he finds not only help but maybe a new friend

warning: fluff!! platonic relationships, golden retriever & black cat bestie, the 'person a doesn't know / care bout person b being famous and person b loving it'

fc: Kit Connor & Desreii on instagram

wc: 1.9k

a/n: stared writing bout my ocs and f1 drivers. these two are my ever first ocs and i love them sm. posting this just for fun!

“…Are you gonna fuck the British or—“

“Blake.”

“What?” 

Blake turns to Candi, staring at him, unamused. Lifting a finger, Candi jabs her bother in the chest softly, “No fucking the stupid Brit. Besides, he’s involved in some weird triangle with two of his friends so I doubt you wanna get involved.”

“That’s literally more reason to get involved, are you kidding me?” Blake laughs. “Oh man, let me come in and mess everything up. Suddenly you got those two teaming up to take me down. Besides, I was kidding about sleeping with Lando.” Candi raises a brow at her brother and Blake offers a sheepish smile, “okay, mostly joking. Though seriously,” dropping his voice, “where the fuck did you find him?” 

The siblings turn their gaze to Lando, who is sprawled out on the pull out couch while Moth sleeps on his chest, purring softly. Looking back at each other Candi shrugs nonchalantly. “I found him—“ 

“Found him? What is he? A stray cat?” Blake jokes.

“No.” Candi scrunches her nose, “he’s a stray dog actually.” 

Blake stares at his younger sister like she has ten heads. For someone who is the walking embodiment of a black cat decorated in piercings and tattoos and an entire black wardrobe, she really did have a talent for collecting the embodiments of some of the friendliest and more chaotic animals around. Blake just looks back before finally asking the question that’s been burning his mind since he got home. 

“How did you even find him?” 

"well, you see.."

“Moth! Honey! Where are you?” 

Candi stands in the doorway to her room as she listens. There’s a silence in the house and Candi puts her lips together because if he’s silent that means he’s either scheming or sleeping and usually it means he’s scheming. Making her way downstairs, Candi scans the living room before spotting the ball of black fluff sitting on the back of the beige couch. Making her way over, she leans down to see Moth just staring and following his gaze. 

Outside, there was a dark blue car outside. Candi blinks in confusion because this was no place for a car like this. The cul de sac was small and tucked away even though it was only 15 minutes out from Austin but—

“Who the fuck had this car why is it in front of the house?” Candi looks down hearing a meow. Green eyes meet hers before Moth turns his attention back to the window and Candi follows, seeing a mop walk around the car. He had his hands on his hips while looking at his car and Candi can only assume it’s his tire. Candi thinks for a moment if she should offer her help but decides that he’d probably fix his own tire or call a tow so she leaves it be for now but watches. 

After ten minutes, Candi stares in shock. It’s been ten minutes and no effort from the driver of this car. She can’t even blame it on service because the service around this area is actually exceptional. She watches the driver digging through his trunk and she can’t take the painful second hand embarrassment anymore as she slips her crocs on and grabs her car keys before stepping onto the porch. 

“Excuse me—“ Candi winces, hearing a head smack against the ceiling. The guy rubs the back of his head and Candi catches the curly mullet he somehow pulls off, “Are you okay?” 

“Fine!” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, my head hurts a bit but I’ll survive.” Lando turns to continue digging through his trunk.

Candi nods. “Cool. Do you need help?”

“No, no I’m okay.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ve been outside for almost ten minutes in front of a McLaren 765LT Spider and not once have you towed nor changed it and I’m starting to suspect you don’t know how to change your tire or are too embarrassed to admit you got a flat.”

Lando turns and looks down at Candi. He stares at her for a moment before glancing away, his cheeks and neck flushing before looking back at her, “Is it that obvious?” 

“Painfully.”

Lando glances away as his cheeks flush more as he laughs slightly. He covers his mouth before looking back at Candi. “Well, then yes. I would like some help.”

“Okay. Do you have a spare tire?”

“I think?”

“What do you mean you think?”

“Well, this was gifted to me and McLaren was nice enough to ship it over to the US.” Lando clears his throat, “they said everything I needed was in the car but. I don’t know. I’ve had it for two days before we came here so I haven’t really had time to see what is in the car—what are you doing?”

Lando watches Candi walk by him to the trunk of the car. He leans over seeing how she pats around before finding a handle and opening the spare tire compartment. Lando doesn’t even get a chance to move before Candi is hoisting the tire out with ease and gently putting the tire down. “Jesus.” Lando blurts out, “isn’t that heavy?”

“Not really,” Candi shrugs. She leans the tire up before going to her car and grabbing the car jack she keeps before making her way back over as she squats down and starts changing his tire.

Lando deduces that Candi likes to do things herself. No matter how hard Lando tries Candi would just brush him off. He ended up just holding the lug nuts while she changed the tire. “Thank you.” Lando tells her when it’s all said and done.

“You’re welcome. How did you even end up over here?”

“Well, I got in a bit early and I was doing some exploring for some food outside of Austin to avoid fans” Lando starts as Candi nods, “and my phone started glitching therefore maps weren’t working and then I guess I got a nail in the tire or something and I pulled over before noticing your house—”

“Ma’s.” Candi corrects, “It’s my grandma’s house.”

“Oh, sorry. I noticed your grandmother’s house so it felt like it was the best spot to…figure out what to do and now we’re here.”

“I see.”

Lando stands awkwardly for a moment before blurting out, “Do you want lunch? It’s on me. As a thank you.”

“Oh.” Candi blinks in surprise. “No—no that’s okay. Really, I don’t want to be a bother—”

“It would be no bother at all.”

Candi and Lando stare at each other again before Candi tilts her head ever so slightly. She looks Lando up and down before she narrows her eyes slightly in thought. “Wait a minute.” Candi starts, “Aren’t you that…F1 driver with that team for the Austin GP, right?”

Great. Lando thinks a bit sad that Candi has finally figured him out. Just when I thought I wasn’t dealing with a fan.There goes that semblance of being a normal person “Yeah,” Lando forces a smile. “I am—”

“You look better when you’re not in that horrible orange color.”

Lando offers an audible gasp. He looks at Candi with a mixture of shock and horror when Candi decides that the papaya orange—his papaya orange—was a horrible shade of orange. “It is not an ugly shade of orange!!”

“It so is an ugly shade.” Candi snickers slightly, “but agree to disagree, no?”

“No, actually.” Lando huffs, “we will not agree to disagree. I’m going to explain why papaya is the best shade of orange ever.”

“Well, would you like to come inside as you fail to persuade me to think otherwise?” Candi offers, “It’s hot, my edible is about to hit, and my cat is trying to explode you in your mind.” Candi turns her head at Moth staring at them, meowing wildly.

“Fine. Only because it is hot and that cat is adorable. What’s his name?”

“Mothman. Like the cryptic.” Candi starts her explanation as she leads Lando into the house rambling on about her cat.

“That explains the nice ass car.” Blake remarks while looking at Lando and Moth, “but are you serious?” Watching Candi nod, Blake laughs softly. “Well…at least he’s pretty.”

“That’s true.”

“So, is he staying for dinner?”

Candi shrugs. Blake hums softly, “Well, Ma is still on her cruise with the girls. Charles is at Jacob’s and Jade is on a trip with her streamer friends so it’s just us and I was thinking maybe Waffle House whenever we get hungry?”

“Perfect.”

Candi watches Blake make his way over to introduce himself to Lando while Moth looks up. She laughs when they finish introductions so Moth can scream at Blake. Candi and Lando laugh as Blake argues with Moth as Candi sits next to Lando, turning the TV on and putting hockey on. Blake settles on the other side of Candi as Moth stretches and hops onto Candi’s lap before laying down. Candi takes the chance to ramble on about hockey until it’s over in which Lando (with the help of Blake and Candi with their excellent pirating skills) puts on the past F1 races and let Lando info dump about them. They take a break to have Lando experience the joy of Waffle House around 9pm before they get back and Lando realizes that he needs to get back to the hotel.

“Well, thanks for fixing my tire.” Lando starts. “And for letting me just hide out here for a bit and feel like…”

“You’re a normal 24 year old hanging out with friends and not a famous F1 driver?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah well,” Candi shrugs. “It’s the least I can do. I think people forget that celebrities are also people and then are surprised when you guys do things like us. Also because I’ve never seen a single F1 race until you showed us so to me you were just a college student who comes from wealth who got lost. Though, I will say that nothing really exciting happens since I’m so tucked away so thank you for making the day less boring.”

Lando nods and is about to get into his car before stopping. “Hey. I never got your name.”

“Me?”

“Well, I know your brother’s name is Blake so yeah.” Lando offers a toothy grin.

“Candi.” Candi tells him with a smile.

“Well, Candi. If you and your brother are interested I could get you guys tickets for the race this weekend? I would like some form of communication with you to give you the tickets.”

Putting her lips together, she thinks. “Yeah, we have nothing better to do. How about, I follow you on instagram and you follow me back? I would say phone numbers but I don’t wanna download another app.” Candi jokes.

Lando laughs and grins as he takes his phone out. “Honestly, I can’t really blame you for that one.” Candi and Lando follow each other on instagram. “Okay, and done. I will see you and Blake this weekend.”

“Alright. Bye Lando.” Candi waves bye as Lando drives away. “What a weird one.”

“Yeah but, aren’t all 24 year olds weird?” Blake asks from his spot on the porch.

“You got me there. Alright, well,” Candi turns and makes her way up the porch. “..What the hell do you bring to a Grand Prix?”

“No clue…Wanna open a 6 pack and research?”

“Oh dear brother.” Candi grins. “You’re speaking my language now.”

[purrfectlycontent]

ohhh ivanmizi friendship my beloveds

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, established relationship, mıssionary, praise, brēeding, petnames, mdni.

nanami who always finds himself in your sheets and between your legs after a long day at work.

“think i want a baby, ‘ken.”

and he took those six simple words personally. nanami’s giving you slow, languid strokes, rolling his hips against yours. he groans at your nails clawing all down his back. as you briefly meet his gaze, you’re met with the most kindest, fawn eyes. all you saw in them were nothing but pools of love with a sprinkle of lust. “oh,” he huskily grunts, hearing the sloshing wet stretch deep into your cunt. he’s stunned for a bit before going deep into imagination. the thought of making your cute tummy all swollen and rounded, it makes him gnaw on his lip like candy.

“my love,” he swallows thickly, a familiar lump forming into the back of his throat. nanami leans into you, his rhythm growing more and more sloppy. you’re jerking back, an ankle of yours sliding down the red lines of his back and he grunts. “c- careful now, might give you more than just one.” and he could have came right then and there—all from relishing in your beauty. he’s never laid his eyes upon anything more pretty.

your knees then get righteously shoved up to your chest. soft, browned eyes flicker at the valley between your breasts before glancing back toward your shimmery spit-slicked lips. you moan, tossing your arms over his shoulders. “i missed my girls,” he groans, stuffing his face between your chest for a moment. your breath immensely hitches at the feeling up him licking a single stripe, still deeply plummeting such inches in and out of your weeping cunt. “they missed me too,” he purrs in a raspy coo, speaking to your tits, and that’s when he latches his plump lips against your perky nipple for a short second. “m-mh.”

the air felt hot — humid, feverish even with each breeze that passes. as warm, kinetic bodies clash against each other at individual hyper strokes, he pries himself off of you. nanami’s jaw tightens so much from your soddened grip that it almost aches. “sweetheart,” he hisses, peering his eyes down to see the milky white ring already coating around his base. it’s probably been hours, hours of you prettily sprawled out for him with your legs open. docile, tawny irises lovingly gaze into you as a thumb of yours strum down his neatly ruffled undercut. “f- fuck, i want you so bad. missed my girl. missed my pussy.”

“she’s missed you too ‘ken,” you pull him into a hot kiss, tasting the mint that lingers on his breath. and as his thrusts grew more sloppy, you whine, feeling his jutting cock kiss against your most sweetest spots. your heart flutters, slithering its way around his waist in a secure lock. “fuck me kento, d- don’t stop, pleaseee.”

“never gonna stop for you, my love,” he huffs, chest heaving in and out. the more he stares at you, the more he falls in love.

through glossed eyes that shimmer with such infatuation—he’s taking in your beauty, your fervor.

nanami loves more than anything to just gawk at you, watching as your eyes droop, your neck crane, and even the way your brows crease into a furrow due to such rapturing pleasure. only he could make you feel this way—you and him both knew that. nobody knew your body like the back of their hand except nanami. your body was his personal canvas, he’s always loved to decorate it and paint it with various, chaste kisses.

to him, you were art. he’s hitting you deep, blurbs and blurbs of whimpers dragging out of your throat until it sounds like inaudible meaningless babbles. so pretty,

repeatedly, the base of his cock perfectly hits against there, leaving you with your jaw hanging open and your entire body being stuck into a limited dimwitted state. he fucks you silly every time, you whimper as a lightening pulse from his cock twitches inside of you, plugging you full.

over and over and over,

nanami blows into your mouth, and you hear a throaty chuckle before he presses yet another wet kiss against your lips. “wanna see you nice ‘n plump s-so bad. gonna give you triplets, my sweet.” and you’re just stupefied, barely a single thought was stored up into your empty, vacant brain. nanami sucks against your bottom lip, still steadily rocking his way into your sloppy cunt. you feel the juncture of his hips mercilessly thrust its way into you raw and you gasp. “right . . here?”

pleasure overtakes you so good that you barely even noticed he was talking to you. you’re too busy moaning your head off and a soft smile pierces against both sides of his lips. a few faint dimples poke against his skin before he grabs your chin. “sweetheaaaart, ‘m talkin’ to you, hey,” and once your eyes meet his mid-thrust, his heart swarms up with love and desire. “there we go. atta girl, yeah. ‘s this spot? this feel good?”

“y- yes,” you whimper, nodding eagerly. he was so big and thick, the prolongated stretch had you drooling. nanami glances at your hand. gingerly bringing it toward his lips, he kisses it, giving it a tender mwah. “kento, ‘m gonna cum a-again.”

“i know, pretty,” he groans, grabbing onto your hand. giving it a firm squeeze. you do the same, interlocking a bundle of fingers with his. his grip was gentle and warm, frantic heartbeat haphazardly picking up speed the more you get a feel of his familiar touch once more. nanami’s always slow with you,

he doesn’t wanna rush this — he hadn’t dreamt of it. already feeling you tighten around him, he invades a strip of your sensitive neck with a plethora of passionate, amorous kisses. “you always taste the same,” and you moan, sobbing cunt gripping down on him so good that it whimpers out a pitchy squelch of its own. his lolled twitching tongue licks against the edge of your shoulder blade once more and your back arches in ecstasy.

he’s never been more in love, with your body arching up backwards at his sweet, sweet hits, you were so close to becoming undone. every pivot of nanami’s hips snap you back to reality before you whine out a needy mewl, tangled digits combing through his unkempt, blond strands. “kento, fuuuuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“together, my l-love,” his voice falters, and his adam’s apple starts to bob. each delicious thrust of his collapses into your body in such mirroring sync. the rapid, frenzied movements were in complete harmony and beads of running sweat sticks against each skin. nanami gruffly groans, preparing to get milked again, you always did it so so well. squeezing his eyes shut, both broad hands cling onto your hips as he grinds against your core. “c’mon, make a mess on me. ‘m gonna clean you up, promise. give it to me, please.”

your moans were so harmonic, each sound that left your throat coming out to be more elongated. with his cock pounding in and out, he starts to slow his pace down — seeping his teeth into your tender collarbone softly. sharp tips of your fingernails continue to paw at the beefiness of his biceps before within seconds, it happens.

with your lips forming into a lewd circular shape, you’re creaming all down his thickset of a shaft. “kentoooo,” you whine out, feeling your soaked walls clench all around him. he holds you tight, allowing you to form into a puddled mess before he shortly follows. nanami groans, tossing his head forward before a translucent ring bubbles around his heavy base. it comes out in oozing spurts, hot cum pouring into your womb raw.

“ngh, always have me bein’ such a mess for you,” he grunts, pretty arched brows curling up together. nanami sucks at the air, witnessing as your legs grow numb, gluing against his skin. “ah, ‘s gonna be a lot. hold still ‘n take it. take it like a good girl,” and he leans into you, cupping the curvature of your face. “make me proud, baby. thaaaaat’s it. eyes on me, eyes on kento.”

nanami feels a wave of drowsiness dawn over him as he stills himself inside of you. he’s panting right with you, a thumb hooks a strand of hair back toward your face. a school of butterflies flutter inside of you as he’s still dumping a sticky load of velvety thin ropes into your greedy pussy. it’s deeply spewing down alongside of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck. “i- i love you ‘ken.”

“i love you more,” he whispers, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your face. he hums at the tiny pout that’s displayed on your lips. you’re underneath him, succumbing into such an orgasmic state that you could barely keep your lashes open. nanami’s not moving anymore but he’s still buried balls deep. a big clammy hand ghosts over your tummy before he nips at your chin. “you’re gonna be such a pretty mommy,” and with a final kiss, you feel him slowly lifting up your leg, tossing it over his shoulder.

and as you gasp, watching him switch positions— nanami then pulls out a wedding ring, sliding it over your bare finger. “but you’d be an even prettier wife.”

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ FEELS TOO GOOD TO BE WRONG

presenting kinktober day 1 ➔︎ stepbro!rafe

warnings: stepcest, pillow humping, guided masturbation, fingering, pussy slapping, gagging, praising, & degrading. 18+ mdni word count: 1.5k

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

rafe tip-toed his way up the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone, especially his stepmother, knowing she’d nag at him if she smelled even the slightest ounce of alcohol off him. his feet carried him to his room, ignoring the soft light under your bedroom door, figuring you must’ve forgotten to turn off the fairy lights that littered the room. 

he froze at small whimpers coming from your room, turning around and stopping outside his bedroom. he pressed his ear to the door, chewing on the side of his nail, listening for further noises.

your whimpers progressed, and nothing prepared him for the sight he saw of you, his sweet stepsister, when he quietly twisted the doorknob, cracking your door open ever so slightly. 

the soft yellow lights glowed around your silhouette as if you were an angel, yet your actions were nowhere close to pure. there you were, in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties and a tank top, rutting against a pillow that sat between your thighs. your eyes remained closed, brows furrowing as you rocked back and forth, trying to find a steady rhythm in hopes the plush pillow would graze your clit. 

rafe’s cock stiffened in his khakis, and he grinned to himself, taking your distraction as an opportunity to slip into your room, ensuring to shut the door without making a sound. he leaned against the door, crossed his arms over his chest, and continued to watch you for a few minutes. 

“what do we have here?” rafe chuckled. your eyes immediately opened, and you let out a small shriek in surprise. "w-why are you here?” you stuttered, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“thought you were having a nightmare and was just being a good big stepbrother and checkin’ on you,” rafe licked his lips, eyeing you, “what are you doing up, anyway?”.

“nothing,” your gaze shifted away from him. “nothin', huh?” your stepbrother taunted, “s’not what it looked like to me.” 

“could’ve sworn you were going at it like a bunny and humping away at your pillow,” he tsked. your lip wobbled as tears welled in your eyes; you weren’t sure if it was because you were ashamed or because you were overly frustrated from how horny you were, “i’m sorry”. 

rafe pushed himself off the wall and stalked towards you. he gripped your chin and tilted your head to look up at you. "stop crying, alright? crying isn’t going to get you anywhere.” 

your gaze drifted away from his, and you looked down at your hands in your lap, ushering another apology. his thumb swiped at your plump bottom lip, a tent starting to form in his khakis as the blood rushed to his cock, “mm, sweet girl, always sayin’ sorry”. 

the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down, his rough hands grabbing at your waist and hoisting you onto his lap. your back was flush against his chest, and he had one hand sprawled across your lower tummy, fingers tracing patterns on your flesh, “you know…what you were doing s’nothing to be ashamed of”. 

it took every fiber in your being not to let out a small whimper when his leg bounced up and down, the material of his khakis rubbing your clit, “it’s not?”. rafe shook his head, “course not. you were just trying to make yourself feel good like the needy little thing you are, right?”.

“i’m not needy,” you murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

“yeah? if that were true, you wouldn’t be trying to get yourself off by your pillow, would you?” rafe chuckled, “there are other ways to make yourself feel good…like using your fingers”. 

you couldn’t help but frown, “that’s not true”.  

the blonde shook his head, “then you must not be doing it right… i could teach you. would you like that, sweet girl?”.

your eyes lit up, nodding slowly at his offer, and his hand slid down your tummy to your thighs, spreading them further open. his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging at it gently to pull it to the side, “pay attention to what i say, alright?”. 

once you give him confirmation, rafe grabs your hand, guiding it between your legs, “go on, stretch your little cunt with your fingers,” he rasps. you run your fingers through your slick folds, pushing two fingers into your wet cunt, “there you go,” he cooed, his hand pressing on your tummy, pulling you closer into him, “slowly move them in and out”. 

you listen to him, slowly pumping your fingers in and out of your slick pussy. your fingers move with ease as your arousal coats your fingers, and rafe groans, his hardon poking against your ass. his hand slid up your tummy to your tits, squeezing and massaging them. his thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple through your tank top, rolling it between his fingers, “c’mon princess, move them a little faster”. 

“atta girl, feels good, yeah?”.

“n-no, rafey, this feels wrong,” you shook your head, it was eating you alive. your mind racing with the thoughts of how wrong it is to let your step brother talk you through how to please yourself. 

“no? nothin’ is wrong if it makes you feel this good, but i guess i gotta do everything myself then, huh?” he scoffed. his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it away to replace your fingers with his. 

“oh–” you gasped, his fingers moving to rub up and down your slit, slipping one finger deep inside you. he pushed his thick digit in and out, slowly working your needy hole open before adding another finger. he was knuckle-deep in your cunt, his fingers dragging against your inner walls with each push and pull motion.

you couldn’t help the whine you let out, bucking your hips against his fingers, “see, nothing wrong if it makes you feel good, right?”.

a small squeak traveled up your throat when he landed a light smack to your clit, “answer me, say ‘yes rafey, it’s not wrong if it feels good’. c’mon, say it, or i’ll leave you to go back to humping your pillow, and we both know it doesn’t nearly feel as good as this”.

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it; the way his fingers curled made your brain blank. you pushed your body further back against him, whining when he suddenly stopped, “why’d you stop?”.

“told you i’d stop, guess you’re on your own,” he shrugged, his fingers still buried deep inside you. you rolled your hips, trying to give yourself some relief, only to receive another smack to your clit. 

“you know what i wanna hear,” he murmured, nipping your ear lobe, “admit that it feels good, tell me how good it feels to have my fingers stuffed inside you”.

despite knowing it was wrong, you couldn’t help but admit that it does feel good, his fingers were making you feel pleasure like you’ve never felt before. 

“good girl,” rafe praised, pistoning his fingers once again, “such a good girl for letting me play with this pretty little pussy”.

your head lolls back, resting on his broad shoulder, “rafe,” you whine. your moans increasingly getting louder the faster he pumped his fingers while he continued to toy with your nipples.

his free hand slid up your neck, prodding his fingers against your lips before shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, “gonna wake everyone up if you can’t keep your mouth shut, and we can’t have that, can we?”.

you hum in response, gagging when he shoves his fingers further down your throat, muffling your sweet moans. the sound of your pussy squelching around his fingers was music to his ears, “you hear that? hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”. 

“touch yourself, play with your clit f’me,” he whispered, groaning when you obeyed, watching you rub sloppy circles onto your clit. he dipped his head down, nuzzling his face into your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, “yeah, just like that, princess. goddamn, you’re so wet, drippin’ all over my fingers”.

your breath hitches in your throat, drool coating rafe’s fingers as the tips of his fingers hit against your cervix, “look so fuckin’ pretty when your holes are stuffed full like the needy little slut you are,” he murmured, nipping at your neck. 

you push your head back onto his shoulder and look at him with half-lidded eyes. your chest is heaving as your breathing becomes sporadic, and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“that’s it, princess, cum all over my fingers. show me how much you love having me play with your pussy,” rafe whispers, grunting from the way your moans are muffled as you’re practically choking on his fingers. 

your eyes squeeze shut as you come undone, his fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm until your body slumps against him.

rafe removed his fingers from your mouth before pulling his hand away from your cunt. he brought his arousal-covered fingers to his mouth, humming as he sucked them clean, “taste so fuckin’ sweet”.

“see? felt better than your pillow, huh?” he teased, bucking his hips, his hard cock grinding against the plump flesh of your ass, “feel that? s’all ’cause of you, sweet girl”.

“think it’s your turn to help me out now”.

taglist: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @zyafics @justafangirls-blog @sturnioloshacker @userchai @bunnyrafe @drewstarkeys-world @nemesyaaa @drewsarms @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @rafestaurusgf @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @rafecameroninterlude @johnnycakess @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @shawtycoreee @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @juniebugg @honeybunniesoobin @spacexdrago @starkeysbebe @chimindity @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angel @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @hyperfixationgirl @eternalbuckley @redhead1180 @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @xoxohoneymoongirl @starkeyisthelastname

[leona-hawthorne]

KINKTOBER #2– THE HAUNTED MANOR / theodore nott

october 3rd toys , voyeurism , humiliation , bondage

theodore nott x fem reader

summary: you have some… interesting experiences with theo when you and your friends decide to spend the night in an old haunted manor

warnings: toys (use of dildo and vibrator), unprotected piv, bondage, humiliation, 18+ content

words: 5.1k

a/n: sorry this was posted so late :(

navigation kinktober masterlist

The crisp October night wrapped itself around you like a cold embrace, the wind whispering through the overgrown vines that clung to the rusted iron gates before you. The abandoned manor loomed in the distance, a decaying relic of the past, its towering silhouette dominating the sprawling grounds.

"Are we seriously spending the night here?" Pansy's voice wavered between excitement and fear as she glanced at the foreboding mansion.

"Of course," Mattheo grinned, his usual cocky demeanor unfazed. "Nothing wrong with a little ghost hunting with friends."

Blaise snorted, smirking. "Yeah, unless we end up as ghosts ourselves."

"Relax, you nitwits. It's just an old house," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the creaking iron gates.

You shivered, instinctively pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. "Theo, are you sure about this?" you asked softly, your gaze flickering to your boyfriend standing beside you. His sharp features were illuminated by the pale moonlight, his hair falling lazily over his eyes. He glanced at you, smirking as his hand slipped into yours, sending a wave of warmth through the chill.

"Don't tell me you're scared," he teased. "It's just an old house."

"You said it was haunted," you reminded him, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Theo's smirk widened. "Rumors. Superstitions. Nothing you need to worry about."

With a playful tug, he pulled you forward, leading you through the rusted gates that groaned ominously in the stillness. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as the two of you made your way toward the manor, its black silhouette growing more oppressive with every step. The air felt heavy—almost alive—with the weight of forgotten magic, or perhaps something far more sinister.

When you reached the massive oak doors, Theo paused, glancing at you over his shoulder with that same teasing grin. "Still want to go inside?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, the oppressive energy of the place thickening the air, but you wouldn't let him see your hesitation. You swallowed hard and nodded, determined not to back down now. Not in front of him.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval.

With a forceful push, the doors groaned open, revealing the dark, decaying entrance hall. The air inside was colder than outside, thick with dust and the scent of mildew. Torn tapestries lined the walls, forgotten remnants of a grandeur long faded.

You groaned, glancing around in disbelief. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you muttered, frustration mingling with your mounting anxiety.

Theo led you deeper into the manor, his steps confident as if he'd been here a thousand times. The others followed behind, their footsteps echoing through the grand, dilapidated space. Cobwebs hung from every corner like old lace, and the weight of the silence was almost suffocating. Theo turned to you, extending his hand once more.

"So," he said with a grin, "what do you think? Spooky enough for you? Let me know if you need someone to hold your hand."

You shot him a glare, though the knot in your stomach betrayed your bravado. Your fingers brushed lightly against his. "Shut up. I told you, I'm not scared," you grumbled, though the darkened hallways told a different story.

Your heart thudded in your chest, the mix of fear and his teasing making your pulse quicken. “But I won't lie, there is something about being here that makes my skin crawl," you admitted, barely above a whisper, as you unconsciously inched toward him.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. "I thought you weren't scared," he teased again, though his voice was softer now, almost amused. "Maybe you need a big, strong man to keep you safe after all."

Rolling your eyes, you elbowed him lightly. "I said shut up."

His lips curled into a gleeful smile, clearly enjoying your unease. "Lucky for you, love, I'm here to save the day." With your hand firmly in his, he led you further into the manor, the old floorboards creaking beneath your every step.

The shadows deepened as you ventured further inside, their long, jagged shapes seeming to reach for you. Theo's grip tightened on your hand, offering silent reassurance as the cold stone walls closed in. "We should stick together anyway," he mused, his tone lighter now. "Safety in numbers, right?"

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves in a grand sitting room, the large windows covered with tattered, moth-eaten curtains. Faded portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes tracking your every movement with unnerving accuracy. A cold, dead fireplace loomed at the far end, its once-mighty hearth now filled with lifeless ashes.

"Cozy," Theo smirked, wandering over to a dusty bookshelf. He trailed a finger along the spines of the old books, eyeing them curiously. "I bet there's some fascinating reading material in here."

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you playfully nudged him. "Only you would think about books in a place like this, nerd."

Before he could reply, a loud thump echoed from upstairs, causing both of you to jump. Theo's eyes widened momentarily before he composed himself with a chuckle.

"Probably just the others... or maybe the ghosts," he joked, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back.

With a shared look, the two of you headed back to the foyer, where your friends were gathered, lounging on worn furniture and discussing their next move.

"Well, well, looks like our little explorers found nothing but dust and cobwebs," Lorenzo called from his spot on an aged velvet sofa, a grin plastered on his face. "I say that’s enough sightseeing for now. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us. How about we liven things up with a game of Truth or Dare?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Truth or Dare? Seriously, Enzo? What are you, fourteen?"

Mattheo chuckled, shrugging. "What else are we gonna do in a place like this?"

"Fine, fine," Theo said, throwing up his hands. "But I’m only playing if there’s alcohol involved." He turned to you with a wicked grin. "Since my lovely girlfriend is feeling so bold tonight, why don't you start us off? Truth or dare?"

You met his gaze, unwilling to back down from the challenge. "Dare," you replied, lifting your chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of a little challenge.”

A slow grin spread across Theo's face. "Alright, I dare you..." He paused dramatically, letting the tension build. " ...to kiss me. Right here, in front of everyone.”

The collective groan from your friends was almost comical. "That's hardly a dare," you scoffed. "I mean, you are my boyfriend."

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you," Theo shot back with a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes, but your annoyance couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're such a show-off.”

Without further hesitation, you stepped forward and kissed him deeply, your fingers threading through his hair as your lips moved together. You blocked out the catcalls and whistles from your friends, focused only on the warmth of Theo's body pressed against yours. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the eerie manor and all its dangers faded away.

As you broke apart, breathless, Theo smirked, his forehead resting against yours. "Much better than I expected," he murmured, his tone filled with playful pride.

You blushed, looking away. "Shut up. You got what you wanted."

Theo's low chuckle vibrated against your skin as he nuzzled into your cheek. "Oh, I did indeed," he purred, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now, who's next?"

Lorenzo's mischievous grin widened as he turned toward Mattheo, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truth or Dare, Riddle. You're up."

Mattheo leaned back, stretching lazily before his dark eyes flickered toward Lorenzo. "Dare, of course. Give me something good."

The game spiraled from there, the room filling with laughter and mock indignation as truth after truth was spilled, and dare after dare was accepted with varying degrees of bravado. Lorenzo had Blaise sprinting across the room in his underwear, Pansy revealing a rather scandalous secret about her latest fling, and Mattheo howling in laughter after being dared to serenade one of the portraits on the wall.

It wasn't long, however, before the attention returned to you, and the smirk on Lorenzo's face sent a chill crawling down your spine. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long before he spoke.

"Y/N," Lorenzo began, the edges of his grin sharp. "I dare you to go up and explore the attic."

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes suddenly on you. Your heart clenched, beating too fast as you turned to look at the darkened staircase leading up to the second floor. The attic? You had barely been able to stomach walking through the front doors, let alone venturing into the bowels of the ancient manor—alone.

"Go to the attic... alone?" you repeated, your voice sounding far smaller than you'd intended. The shadows seemed to press closer, thickening the air.

Theo's fingers tightened around your waist, his familiar warmth grounding you for just a moment. You could feel his smirk without needing to look. He loved this, loved teasing you, loved pushing you to your limits just to see how far you'd go. And you hated that it worked every single time.

"Too much for you, love?" he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "Because I can always come with you." His voice dropped lower, becoming a rumbling hum that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "Just imagine—us, together, in the dark... how thrilling that could be."

Your mouth went dry as his words sent your imagination spinning. You could feel the others watching, waiting for your response, but all you could focus on was the heat of Theo's body against yours and the way his fingers trailed possessively down your arm.

Theo's grin widened as he nipped at your earlobe, voice dark with amusement. "What do you say, Y/N? Want me to hold your hand?"

You huffed, pushing away the growing tension. "Shut up," you muttered again, glaring at him in mock irritation, though the playful twinkle in your eyes betrayed the act.

His hand slid from your waist to your lower back, and he leaned closer, whispering, "If you're too scared to go, just say the word. No shame in admitting it."

Your breath caught as his words lingered between you, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You squared your shoulders, unwilling to let him win. You'd spent far too long playing this game with Theodore Nott, and you weren't about to back down now.

"Fine," you said, louder this time as you stepped away from him, brushing his hands off with a deliberate flourish. "But I'm not going alone." You shot him a pointed look. "You're coming with me."

Theo's smirk softened, the gleam of triumph in his eyes unmistakable. "Of course I am," he murmured.

Lorenzo groaned dramatically from his spot on the couch. "Oh, come on, that's cheating! She's supposed to go by herself."

Mattheo chuckled from the other side of the room, shaking his head. "Let them have their fun. At least one of us might get something out of this trip to hell."

Ignoring the banter, Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you toward the staircase. The creaking of the old wood echoed through the hall as you ascended, each step a reminder of the isolation waiting above. The air grew colder, thicker, the musty scent of forgotten years clinging to every surface. The hallway stretched out before you, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the cracked windows.

Theo's grip on you tightened as you reached the attic door, its old wooden frame warped and splintered with age. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, glancing at you with a raised brow. "Ready for this, love?" His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something that made your stomach flip in anticipation.

You hesitated, the weight of the dare pressing down on you like the air in the old manor, thick and suffocating. But with Theo by your side, that familiar heat spreading through your veins, you nodded. "Yeah."

With a smirk, Theo twisted the knob and pushed the door open with a loud creak.

The attic yawned before you—dark, dust-choked, and thick with an eerie stillness that made your skin prickle. Cobwebs clung to the rafters, and the only sound was the faint rustle of wind outside, whispering through the cracks in the walls.

You took a tentative step inside, the floorboards groaning beneath your weight. Theo was right behind you, his presence a steadying force as you ventured further into the darkness. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, each step sending a pulse of adrenaline through your veins.

There was a four-poster bed lying in the middle of the attic, as if the people who lived here all those years ago had used it as a bedroom.

Theo, ever the opportunist, moved closer, running a finger along the edge of the mattress.

"This place really does have a certain charm, doesn't it?" He turned to you, a wicked glint in his eye. "Almost romantic, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, he pulled you onto the bed beside him, the springs creaking under your combined weight. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzled your neck.

“Romantic? That’s funny. You’re too horny for your own good, Theodore Nott.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, lips grazing your ear. "Guilty as charged, love. But what can I say? You bring out the worst in me."

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips, slipping under your shirt to tease the sensitive skin of your lower back. His touch ignited sparks across your flesh, and you found yourself arching into him, craving more.

With a deft tug, he pulled your shirt off over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. His gaze raked over your exposed torso, lingering on the swell of your breasts tucked away beneath your bra before meeting your eyes with a smoldering intensity. "Beautiful," he breathed, voice husky with desire. "Absolutely stunning."

He pulled back for a moment, swiftly running a hand over his face. “I actually, um… found some pretty interesting things of yours the other day. In your dorm.”

Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “What are you talking about?" you demanded, trying to keep your tone steady despite the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins at the thought of Theo rummaging through your belongings.

Theo's smile widened, an amused glint dancing in his eyes as he reached into his messenger bag. He pulled out a small pink vibrator, waving it tauntingly before setting it on the bedside table. "This little number, for instance," he purred, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I must say, it looks quite impressive."

Next, he produced a purple silicone dildo, holding it aloft like a trophy. "And then there's this... rather large toy you've got stashed away. Quite the collection you've got going on here, love." His gaze flicked back to your face, drinking in your reaction with a knowing smirk.

"How do these magic tricks work, hmm? Do they come with instructions, or are you an expert in carnal delights already?"

You felt your face flush even hotter at the sight of your most intimate belongings being waved around so casually. A surge of anger mixed with humiliation threatened to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to maintain a facade of nonchalance.

"When did you even find those?” you murmured embarrassedly.

Theo's smirk deepened as he watched the play of emotions across your face—the blush staining your cheeks, the tension in your jaw, the defiant spark in your eyes. It was a delicious combination, one that stirred his blood and set his nerve endings alight with anticipation.

"Last week, when I stayed over at your dorm," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "I was looking for some cigs in your nightstand drawer while you were in the shower and well..." He shrugged, a picture of feigned innocence. "They just sort of jumped out at me.”

He traced a finger along the length of the dildo, humming thoughtfully before he moved closer, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. "Quite the naughty girl, aren't you, love?" He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

As he kissed you deeply, Theo's hand slid higher, fingers brushing the waistline of your jeans, unbuttoning them before dipping underneath to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His touch was electric, sending shivers racing up your spine as he teased the sensitive flesh mere inches from your core.

"So, tell me, baby," he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jawline, nipping at the tender skin beneath your ear. "You prefer this—" He held up the dildo, wiggling it suggestively, “—fake cock when you have the real thing right here, always ready and willing?"

His fingers continued their maddening exploration, inching closer to the heat of your center with each passing second. His thumb rubbed against your clit through the thin barrier of your underwear, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he continued to tease you.

"I mean, they're cute and all, but nothing compares to the feel of my cock buried deep inside you, does it?" He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered. He gestured to himself, his meaning clear. One hand drifted down to palm the bulge straining against his trousers, a silent invitation, a promise of pleasure.

"Is my girl really that impatient, hm?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice. "That she can't just wait for her boyfriend to come and fuck her senseless whenever she needs it?"

His fingers slipped beneath the waistline of your pants once again, teasing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your breathing hitched as his touch grew bolder, fingertips brushing against your clothed sex with feather-light strokes. The ache between your legs intensified, your panties dampening with each passing second.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through you like a physical caress. "Using these cheap substitutes instead of demanding what she really wants. Why don’t you give me a little demonstration?"

His hand cupped your mound possessively, applying pressure that made you squirm.

You gasped sharply as Theo's fingers pressed against your aching sex, the contact sending shivers racing down your spine. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more relief from the throbbing need building within you.

“It’s not like that…” you mumbled. “Just… please…”

"Please what?" Theo arched a brow, a mocking tilt to his lips. "You think you deserve real dick right now after keeping secrets from me? After using toys behind my back like some desperate slut?"

He withdrew his hand abruptly, leaving you aching and empty. Rising from the bed, he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leveled you with a stern look. "Strip. Now. Let's see how much of a show you can put on for me."

Theo's gaze raked over your body, his eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Come on, baby. Don’t get shy now. Show me what you've been hiding."

You kicked off your shoes, and as you unclasped your bra, he drank in the sight of your full breasts, nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. Lower still, past the dip of your waist and flare of your hips, until your jeans pooled at your feet, leaving you clad in only a scrap of lace.

“Fuck, look at you," he growled appreciatively, palming the growing hardness in his trousers. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you? All mine to play with."

He relaxed back on a nearby armchair. "Now then, why don't you show me exactly what these toys of yours can do?"

Theo lounged back in the chair, his eyes never leaving you as you stood there trembling, exposed and vulnerable. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you with hooded eyes. “Go on then, sweetheart. Show me how you like to be fucked. Pretend I'm not even here."

As you grasped the dildo, he panted softly, drinking in the sight of your hand wrapped around the smooth plastic. He reached down to adjust his bulge, the fabric of his pants bunching obscenely as he watched you remove your panties.

You leaned back, spreading your legs wide in a lewd display, but you didn’t know what to do with the toy in your hand. Not when he was right in front of you.

A cruel smile played about his lips as he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the reluctance in your movements. "What's wrong, love? Suddenly shy? You weren't shy when you were fucking yourself silly with these, were you?"

With trembling hands, you brought the toy to your lips, flicking your tongue out, tracing the contours, coating it in saliva. Then, you trailed it lower, over your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. You circled a nipple with the toy's tip, gasping at the sensation.

"There we go. Now, move it down and start rubbing it against your clit. Nice and slow. I want to see you squirm."

He reclined further into the chair, making no move to join you, simply observing your every move with an air of dark amusement.

You whimpered, feeling exposed and humiliated as you followed Theo's instructions. Your cheeks burned with shame as you brought the dildo to your aching sex, rubbing the slick head against your swollen clit.

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood, fighting back tears of mortification. But beneath the embarrassment, a spark of arousal ignited, fueled by the knowledge that he was watching you so intently.

Your hips began to rock instinctively, the toy gliding through your wet folds, stroking places that made you shudder and moan quietly. You couldn't meet his gaze, too ashamed to see the smug satisfaction in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… Now, put it inside you where it belongs. Fill up that greedy little cunt.”

With a shaky breath, you aligned the dildo with your entrance, pushing it in gradually. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, and you cried out at the feeling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to relax, letting the toy sink deeper.

"Fuck, look at you taking it like a good little slut," Theo drawled, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view. He reached down to stroke himself lazily, his thumb rubbing circles over the straining bulge in his trousers.

Reaching for the smaller vibrator on the bed beside you, he tossed it onto the sheets. "Pick it up. I want to hear you scream as you cum all over both of them. Show me how well you can multitask."

Your hands shook as you fumbled for the small device, turning it on with a buzzing whine. You positioned it against your clit, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core. Your hips rolled faster, the dildo thrusting in and out of your stretched hole in rhythm with the toy's relentless stimulation.

“Come on. Make yourself cum while I watch you rut on that toy like a bitch in heat. I want to hear you moaning like the desperate whore you are.”

Theo's eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he watched you writhe in ecstasy, your moans echoing off the walls. The obscene sounds of your self-pleasure filled the room, mingling with the creaks of the bed and the soft buzzing of the vibrator.

"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself senseless. Show me just how depraved you can be when you're alone with your filthy toys," he sneered, stroking himself harder through his trousers.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, your inner muscles clamped down on the dildo, milking it for all it was worth. With a keening wail, you came undone, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of intense orgasm crashed over you.

"You're so beautiful when you lose control like that," Theo purred.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes burning with a dark hunger as he watched you collapse back onto the bed, spent and panting. "Look at you, covered in sweat and cum... Such a lovely mess."

He rose slowly, unbuckling his belt and freeing his aching cock. It sprang forth, thick and pulsing, already leaking precum. With a wicked grin, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your splayed thighs.

Theo grabbed your wrists roughly, pulling them above your head and securing them to the headboard with silky ropes. He repeated the process with your ankles, spreading your legs obscenely wide and tying them to the footposts.

"Just relax, love. This won't hurt a bit," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he bound your wrists above your head to the headboard.

Once you were completely immobilized, he stepped back to admire his work, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of your helpless, exposed body.

"I think it's time I took my turn playing with you," he rasped, trailing a finger along your slick slit. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me fill this greedy cunt with something real."

Theo's fingers probed your dripping entrance, circling the rim before pushing inside. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of your velvety walls clenching around him. "Fuck, you're still so tight... Even after all that."

He worked two fingers deep, pumping them slowly as he watched your face contort with pleasure. His thumb found your sensitive clit, rubbing firm circles over the bud. "I bet you'd love to have my cock instead, wouldn't you? To feel me splitting you open, filling you up until you can't take anymore?"

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me you need it. Beg me to fuck you raw."

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. As Theo's fingers delved into your sensitive flesh, you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill free.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the image of him replacing those fingers with his thick, throbbing cock making your pussy clench hungrily. You wanted it, craved the sensation of being stretched and filled beyond capacity.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please, I need it. I need you inside me."

Theo smirked as he heard your breathy pleas, his ego swelling at the power he held over you. “Such a dirty, needy girl for me, aren’t you?”

With a growl of triumph, he lined himself up, the blunt head of his member nudging insistently at your entrance. In one swift motion, he hilted himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick girth.

"Fuck!" he snarled, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. The bed frame rattled with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of flesh smacking against flesh filling the room. Theo set a brutal pace, pounding into you with single-minded focus, determined to make you scream.

Theo's hand shot down beside your body, grasping the vibrator. He turned it up to its highest setting, the intense vibrations making your entire pelvis quiver.

"This should really get you going, doesn't it?" he sneered, grinding the toy against your clit with each punishing thrust. "Feeling my cock splitting you open while this thing eats at your poor little pussy..."

His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin as he continued to rail into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. The dual sensations of the vibrator and his cock driving into you relentlessly pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body jerked violently as the vibrator hit full force, the intense vibrations making your clit throb in time with Theo's merciless thrusts. The restraints held you in place, forcing you to submit to every punishing stroke, every deep, grinding push against your cervix.

Pleasure and pain blurred together, the overwhelming sensations threatening to short-circuit your mind. Tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring at the edges as you teetered on the brink of another explosive orgasm.

Your toes curled, your back arching as much as the bonds would allow, trying to take him even deeper.

You cried out, writhing around, the restraints holding you back as he used you mercilessly, tears pricking your eyes. His free hand grabbed at your tits, roughly squeezing them as his thumb flicked over your nipple.

"Don't hold back now, cum for me, pretty girl," Theo commanded, his own climax rapidly approaching.

Theo felt your walls spasming wildly around him, signaling your impending orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, pistoning into you with ruthless intensity as the vibrator buzzed against your clit.

"That's it, baby, make a mess for me,” he muttered, his own release coiling tightly in his abdomen.

Your cry of ecstasy echoed through the room as you shattered, convulsing beneath him in the throes of an intense climax. Theo rode out your waves of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm with deliberate thrusts.

Just as he was about to crest the peak himself, he abruptly pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. With a few quick strokes, he spilled his seed across your stomach and chest, painting you in his essence.

Theo collapsed beside you on the bed, chest heaving as he caught his breath. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side.

"I love you, baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch soothing as he wiped a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face. “Let’s clean you up.” And with a flick of his wand, the white fluids covering you were gone.

“Our friends probably think we’re dead by now, you know. We’ve been up here for so long,” you murmured.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure they’re smart enough to know that the screaming coming from up here wasn’t because of ghosts.”

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @daenerystorgaryen @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

[moonjxsung]

Kinktober Day 1: Cuckolding

[kinktober masterlist.]

🔞 warning: smut below! mdni.

pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Lee Minho x reader

•

“What are you so busy with?” Minho inquires from his spot at your shared desk, observing the way you navigate the mousepad of your laptop with a knowing smile on your face.

“Reading comments again,” you remind him. “They really liked yesterday’s video.”

“Yeah?” Minho muses, beckoning you over with a gentle wave of his hand. “What are they saying?”

There’s a passing moment of silence as he awaits a reply- one you don’t indulge him in just yet, as your eyes scan the request for what seems like the hundredth time. The clean black text outlines a simple question, one that shouldn’t be as provocative as it is, considering it’s been published in the comment section of your very public adult film together. But the implications lie in an area too gray for even you to consider without an accompanying sense of guilt.

“What is it?” Minho asks again, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes note of the very clear concern that now washes over your features.

“It’s a little embarrassing,” you tell him, shaking your head in an attempt to brush off the question.

But Minho’s interest is already piqued at the blush that now creeps upon the apples of your cheeks, a smirk of his own present, too, as he brings two fingers up and beckons for you once more in a “come hither” motion.

“Don’t be scared,” Minho says coyly. “I don’t bite.”

As much as you want to ignore him, he’s difficult to resist when he’s sprawled over the length of the bed in nothing but a thin black tank top, one arm propping him up, while the other continues to gesture for your laptop. His biceps flex with the slightest movement of his slender fingers, and his narrowed eyes seem to bore right through your timid figure, as you finally oblige, hoisting yourself off the chair and taking reluctant strides toward him.

“Let’s see it,” Minho states confidently, allowing you to slot yourself between his muscular legs and present the bright white screen to him.

He presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder as he observes the way you scroll down several comments, and then navigate the trackpad back up once more, using your middle and index finger to enlarge the text and present it to him.

Your eyes scan his out of your peripheral vision for a reaction, admiring the way his big brown eyes digest the text from left to right, eyebrows furrowing when he finishes the short sentence. And then he reads it, again. And again- and perhaps three more times, before a breathy chuckle escapes his lips.

“That’s the request?” He says simply.

“I know, right?” You retort, shaking your head to brush off the sheer ridiculousness of it. “It’s stupid.”

Stupid, absurd- wrong. But perhaps also a little fascinating- rousing, even. An admission you’d never make to Minho, of course.

Minho clears his throat once, and then the guilt settles in once more when you hear him read the request out loud this time, the boldness of his tone quickening the pulse in your chest.

“Nice video,” he begins, the same smirk present on his face, still. “I love the way she takes your cock. Would pay to watch her take a different one, while you sit and watch.”

Your face cringes as he concludes speaking, his eyes not yet leaving the laptop screen, as he brings a hand up to run it through his silky brown tresses.

And then his gaze meets yours again, as he finally produces a verbal response to the request itself.

“Stupid?” Minho repeats. “It’s not stupid. It’s kinda hot.”

His muscular arms reach out in front of him to stretch, his neck cocking left, and then right, to relieve the tension in his upper body, and then he lies flat on his back, setting the laptop aside and propping both arms behind his head.

“It is?” You question, biting your lip as he stares at the ceiling.

“Mhm,” Minho says simply. “To me, at least. But if you’re not into it, then it’s not hot. We’d have to be on the same page.”

You desperately scan his expression for a sign that he’s joking- maybe even testing your loyalty. But his eyes remain shut as you think it over, his eyelashes only fluttering open to meet your gaze as he hums in your direction.

“How do you feel about it?” Minho inquires, his expression completely serious now, as he awaits a reply,

“I mean…” you begin, intent on telling him that you’re not so keen on cheating right in front of your boyfriend. But the fact replays in your head, that Minho finds the idea of it arousing. And you do, too, erotic thoughts racing through your mind at the image of Minho getting himself off to somebody else having their way with you.

“I suppose it’s a little hot,” you say finally. His reaction isn’t some grand display of emotion- nor is it rooted anywhere in the implication that he’s testing your loyalty. He simply hums, his eyes shutting once more.

“Then quote your price to the guy,” Minho says simply. “Whatever price you want. If you’re cool with it, then I’m cool with it.”

Your lips pull into an involuntary smile at his willingness to let you explore your preferred sexual endeavors, and then you pause before responding, your eyebrows furrowing in a state of deep thought.

“Who would we even recruit for something like this?” You ask him, glancing nervously at the laptop, which has now defaulted to its screensaver. “No one would be willing to go through with this-”

“Hyunjin,” Minho interjects casually.

You turn to face his satisfied expression, his eyelids opening to meet your amused smile.

“From that party we went to, like, a month ago? What makes you think he’d agree to it?”

“Oh, please,” Minho begins. He props himself up with one arm, leaning in to graze his lips just briefly over yours, yet he doesn't kiss you.

“He wanted to fuck you so bad,” Minho explains in a voice just above a whisper. “He also offhandedly mentioned something about some intense threesome he had one time. In Paris, no less. The pretentious fucker.”

And then his lips form a pout as he kisses you for just a brief second, before pulling away again.

“Plus, he was hot. I’d kill to watch him fuck you, too.”

The room circles with heavy anticipation, neither of you saying anything as your eye contact doesn’t break from one another. And your lips seem to mirror each other as they pull into equally satisfied grins, nodding eagerly, his fingers running over the trackpad as the colorful sequence of the screensaver is broken, so that he can type out a proper response.

*

When payments are settled, Hyunjin is easily convinced one night over a conversation at a luxurious French restaurant by Minho, who doesn't even need to conclude the specifications before Hyunjin’s agreeing to it.

“You’d think he was the one offering,” Minho explains when he’s home again, half-buzzed on a glass of white wine as he indulges you in the details. “He’s almost as excited as I am.”

And on the night you’ve both agreed upon, Minho’s excitement is made evident in the way he bites back a grin, as he watches Hyunjin traverse your shared apartment’s entrance.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Minho says coyly. We’re going to be here a while, after all.”

It’s true that Hyunjin is no stranger to shared lovers and sexual escapades alike, having participated in a passionate ménage à trois in the French countryside one summer. But somehow even that was different- it was a gradual process, one that involved conversations of feelings, and futures alike. It wasn’t like this- an invitation from complete strangers, to be filmed for the whole world to gawk at.

“Up this way,” you instruct, ascending the staircase to your bedroom and beckoning for him with the wave of your index finger.

Hyunjin glances at Minho reluctantly, who ushers for him to proceed, already several steps behind you. And then he finally follows, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark blue jeans, as he meets you at the doorway of the bedroom.

“This is where the magic happens,” you say with a warm smile, leading him into your bedroom and assuming a spot at the foot of the bed.

He’s quick to observe the master bedroom you two share, glancing curiously at the photographs in nearly placed frames that line the dresser across the bed. The duvet is pulled taut across the mattress, not a wrinkle in sight as you run a hand along the beige quilted surface. A gray armchair is placed in the corner of the room by the bed, angled so that it’s in good view of the bed. And when Hyunjin’s eyes follow the path from the chair to the dresser, he finally takes notice of the very professional-looking camera, already setup on a tall, black tripod.

“This your camera?” Hyunjin inquires, making his way over and fiddling with the shutter release.

Minho nods, his eyes flickering over yours briefly, as Hyunjin’s lean figure towers over the tripod. His stature is especially alluring like this, the sculpted convexes of his biceps protruding in the thin, white tank top he sports, as he taps the screen lightly and watches the yellow box focus around your seated figure.

“Are we already recording?” Hyunjin then asks, breaking eye contact from the screen to glance at you.

“Not yet,” you say to him. “We start whenever you’re ready.”

He swallows nervously, mentally formulating how this is all going to unfold. Of course he’s already aroused by the thin black lingerie you flaunt, and from the corner of the room, Hyunjin can hear the gentle clink of Minho’s belt, as he lets it find purchase on the wooden floor. But he feels less-than-adequate at the thought of how to commence the process; much less how to do it while recording.

You rise from your spot on the bed, making your way over at the same time Hyunjin’s fingers search for the record button. His fingers seem to miss it several times over, before yours are grazing his delicate skin, pressing the button with a firm push and watching as the little red light flashes affirmatively.

Hyunjin seems to be more aware of his surroundings now that the recording’s begun, overthinking every breath that escapes from between his parted lips as he towers over you. He wonders how the moment of passing silence will translate to your thousands of viewers, or whether they’ll comment on how he’s visibly much less confident being on camera than Minho is. But when he angles his face down to meet yours, his lips parted to say something and instead grazing lightly over your own, he is confident that he wants to kiss you.

“You can kiss her,” Minho chimes in from the corner of the room, as though he can read Hyunjin’s thoughts. “She’s all yours for the evening.”

All yours, the words echo in his mind. He thinks over his granted permissions to kiss you- and subsequently to pleasure you, even though your lover sits just a chair’s length away.

And then he finally indulges himself in what he came here to do, cupping your face between his calloused palms and pulling you in for a passionate, desperate kiss. Your lips work against his like you’ve done this several times before, and suddenly it’s not Minho swirling your thoughts, but Hyunjin, who tastes like the cherry chapstick he wears on his pink lips. He walks you forward as he tilts his face the other way now, gasping between breaths as his nimble fingers find the lace trim of your bra. He doesn’t make haste to remove it just yet, instead skimming his fingers along the elastic band and letting his towering figure guide you back toward the bed. Once at the bed, it’s you who falls back first, pulling him into your lying figure with your hands around the back of his neck. Fingers weave into his long ebony locks as his mouth advances to the crook of your throat, where he pulls the flesh between his teeth and litters fresh red bruises where Minho will be sure to see them.

And from across the room, the sight is completely foreign to Minho, who’s begun to feel a little conflicted as he observes the way you arch up into Hyunjin. He takes note of the way Hyunjin has several inches on him in height, making the bed appear almost too small, as he continues to paint your neck in love bites. Minho’s eyebrows furrow a little when your bra is finally undone with the careful maneuver of Hyunjin’s fingers, and then Hyunjin parts briefly to pull his own shirt over his head.

Once bare, Minho’s eyes travel over every inch of Hyunjin’s sculpted torso, admiring the artistic v-line just below his navel. His slim waist lengthens when he leans back down to kiss you, his hands now traveling over the curves of your breasts as his thumbs graze over your nipples. And when Hyunjin’s hands find the waistband of your underwear, tugging it halfway down from its original position, Minho feels his jaw clench in what he can only understand to be jealousy.

It’s a little envying to watch how swiftly you seem to respond to Hyunjin’s touch- a gasp when he pulls your skin between his teeth, a whimper when his fingers caress the small of your back, even the flutter of your eyelashes when he quickens his movements, rutting his still-clothed crotch against your upper thigh as he aims to find some relief. But Minho is well aware that he’s the one who permitted all of this to unfold in front of him, so he just remains silent, squirming in his chair as he unfolds his crossed knees and switches the leg he has folded over the other. He watches intently as you sit up now, your hands finding the button of Hyunjin’s jeans, as you assist him in getting fully undressed.

“You’re already hard,” you muse to Hyunjin in a breathless voice. “We’ve barely kissed.”

Hyunjin chuckles sheepishly, his eyes forming little crinkles as he snakes off his jeans and allows his erection to swell against his abdomen. His eyes flicker briefly over Minho, who can hardly make out the conversation between the two of you from across the room, and then he tugs off his boxers, too, exposing himself fully to the both of you.

“Am I allowed to say I’ve dreamt about this?” He asks in a voice just above a whisper, his hand coming down to stroke the length of his shaft gently.

“Yeah?” You muse back at him. “Dreamt of fucking someone else’s partner?”

“Dreamt of fucking you,” he corrects you.

His kisses resume between the valley of your breasts, and then his hands are spreading your legs for him, palms sprawled out over your knees, gesturing for you to lie parallel to the mattress again. When you do, Hyunjin positions himself so that his face is effectively slotted between your sex, pressing a trail of kisses along your inner thighs. And Minho can do nothing but watch, mentally assuring himself that this is all just for your shared channel. He’s been in Hyunjin’s position perhaps hundreds of times- hovering over your aching body, scattering bruises along your most sensitive areas and planting his face- and typically his cock, wherever you so please. One night of sharing you certainly isn’t going to change the fact that you still belong to him- and your loyal viewers will still tune in for your sessions with Minho, first and foremost.

An audible groan emits from between Minho’s lips when he watches Hyunjin part his mouth over your glistening pussy, and even at this distance, Minho observes the way you’re practically soaking for him. Hyunjin chuckles softly over you, amused at how eager you are for his tongue. And when he finally leans in to lick a long stripe up your folds, your face tilts toward the chair on the other side of the room, where you find your eyes locked with Minho’s. Minho’s pupils seem to tremble in tandem with your shaky responses, his breath hitching in the back of his throat, as your hands instinctively lower to tangle into Hyunjin’s tresses.

Hyunjin’s movements are skillful, and it’s clear he's done this dozens of times before, his hands still upon your knees as he keeps your legs parted for him. His tongue alternates between quick strokes from your folds up to the bud of your clit, where he then takes it between his plump lips, sucking harshly and filling the room with erotic smacking sounds. Your body squirms desperately in his touch, as though you might orgasm from the mere seconds he’s been working you, and then as though he can sense it, he moves back down to just graze your entrance with his tongue.

Minho feels his cock swell in his boxers at the sight of it, your legs coming around the sides of Hyunjin’s pretty face as you allow him to devour you. Your eyes don’t leave Minho’s, your lips attempting to pull into a satisfied grin as you watch him stare. Yet you fail miserably, your mouth instead parting to let out a series of staccato gasps as Hyunjin finds your clit once again and begins to practically make out with your sensitive flesh, allowing a string of drool to escape his lips and dribble all over your aching sex.

Minho reaches up to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead, trying his best to ignore the pulsing sensation from his now completely swollen cock, his tip kissing the fabric of his boxers with every shallow breath he takes. He adjusts his position so that his legs are parted over the flat of the chair, and then he observes as you simply nod in his direction, your eyes falling to his cock, too.

He glances down at his boxers for a moment, a little embarrassed at the stain of precum that graces the dark gray fabric. His eyes scan Hyunjin’s figure again, the sharp features a complete blur to Minho now, as Hyunjin remains buried between your pussy, just his locks of ebony visible, as he darts his tongue in and out of you.

Minho cocks his head once, thinking back to the original plan which he’d established between the two of you. Let Hyunjin fuck you on camera- and then when he’d gone home for the evening, Minho would have his turn with you. No cameras, no audience- just his worked-up body, and perhaps several hours to prove he’s still better. But as Minho glances down at his crotch again, he’s now certain he won’t be able to neglect himself any longer- not when he’s right in front of the dirty sight of Hyunjin having his way with you. He slurps up your juices as though Minho doesn’t even exist, as though he’s not just a few feet from the mattress his own lover lies upon. Your legs are spread so obediently for another man, your moans swirling the room in an orchestra of pleasure, like you’re trying to get Minho hard. And maybe you are, he thinks to himself, as you seem to nod again in his direction.

Minho’s hand guides itself down to his boxers, and then he tugs down them over his bulge, allowing the cool air of the bedroom to graze his erection. He exhales sharply when his hand makes contact with his shaft, grasping himself with just enough pressure to soothe the rhythmic ache that reaches his tip. His strokes begin slow, light pants escaping his parted lips as he watches Hyunjin pleasure you. He imagines himself where Hyunjin is now, remembering what it feels like to be bent over your lying figure, his tongue darting in and out of your entrance and then tracing your anatomy as you writhe beneath him.

And his eyes scan Hyunjin, too, his plump lips forming a pout to kiss along your inner thighs, his slender fingers maneuvering from your knees to your folds now, where he slots two fingers inside of you, pumping them at a fast pace as his tongue wags back and forth in desperate motions.

Hyunjin’s biceps are more sculpted than Minho had originally taken him for, and his chiseled face is a sight to marvel at when he’s finger-fucking you like his life depends on it. If he was going to bear witness to anyone fucking his woman, he’s glad it’s Hyunjin.

Hyunjin seems to take note of the groans from across the room, coming up for a breath as he glances in Minho’s direction. His eyes scan Minho’s erect cock, and then he shoots him an almost proud smile, as he shoves his dampened hair out of his face with both hands.

“Couldn’t help yourself?” Hyunjin asks, feeling more confident than perhaps ever before.

He’s sheen with sweat, his pink lips glossed with your arousal as he catches his breath for a moment. Minho simply shakes his head, shooting him an equally amused smile as he watches Hyunjin position himself on his knees. When he does, his cock is visible again to Minho, who takes a second to properly marvel at it. He’s long, and girthy, his tip appearing just as desperate as Minho’s was, for some release. Hyunjin chuckles lightly when he observes Minho quicken his own movements, little cusses escaping his lips as he strokes himself to the sight of your legs spread for him. And then he gestures back to you with the cock of his head, before speaking.

“You gonna fuck her, or what?” Minho asks, not slowing the jerking movements of his hand.

Hyunjin chuckles again, positioning himself over you with his own cock in hand.

“I might,” Hyunjin teases, his eyes meeting yours now. He adjusts his tip so that it’s just barely grazing your entrance, and then he leans in to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

“Can I?” Hyunjin asks, his mouth grazing over yours, but not kissing you.

You nod eagerly in response, glancing once at Minho, who hasn’t stopped stroking himself at the sight of you.

Hyunjin grins against you, his hand finding its way to the base of his cock again, and then he steadies himself up with his other hand behind you on the mattress, before entering you with a swift buck of his hips.

Your gaze meets Minho across the room when Hyunjin is finally inside of you, your eyebrows arching up in blissful pleasure as he begins with fast, yet calculated strokes. Hyunjin seems to have a method to the way he fucks, ramming his hips into yours, as loud squelching sounds fill the room all around you. And then he slows again, relishing in the sensation of your walls clenching eagerly around him and practically begging for him to quicken his pace again. His grunts are loud, his hot breath swirling against your sweaty skin as he fucks you tirelessly. And Minho can’t stop himself from letting out a fervent moan when Hyunjin’s nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, lifting your leg up over his shoulder so he can hit an entirely new angle.

“Jesus,” Minho groans from his spot on the couch.

Hyunjin chuckles at the sight of both of you losing yourselves to his skillful movements, and he steadies your knee in the crook of his elbow as he moves a little faster now, his other hand coming down to you with your clit.

“Is this what you both wanted?” Hyunjin inquires wickedly, glancing down to admire the way his length disappears inside of you. You’re unable to control the erotic moans which escape you now, your breath hitching in the back of your throat when Hyunjin cups your face with one hand and forces your gaze onto Minho’s.

“Watch him,” he orders, also craning his neck to observe Minho’s movements.

Minho fucks his fist even faster at the attention of both your gazes, a little shy at the realization that Hyunjin appears to be waiting for him to finish. Yet when he glances between your tangled bodies, and observes the way Hyunjin ruts his hips forward only in tandem with Minho’s own strokes, he feels his cock twitch once in his grasp, much closer to his orgasm now.

“Is this what your viewers wanted?” Hyunjin asks, grinning devilishly as he speaks. “To watch me fuck her?”

Minho doesn’t reply yet, gasping as he thumbs over his tip just once.

“Must feel pretty weird watching her take another cock,” Hyunjin then remarks. “Probably wishing you were between us.”

Minho’s eyes squeeze a little at the statement, and he bites his tongue back from admitting that between Hyunjin’s toned body, and your erotic moans, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to be tongue-kissing both of you at the same time.

He can hardly respond now, simply nodding between gasps, as you watch him squirm in his own touch, desperate and on the edge of release now.

Hyunjin fucks you at a record speed now, showing no mercy as he pounds into you while Minho fucks his own fist, reckoning he can probably get you both to cum at the same time.

“Cum,” Hyunjin commands in a breathless voice, peering over his shoulder at Minho.

Minho’s eyes are shut, as the loud squelching sounds of his own precum coating his shaft fill the room. And then he lets out what Hyunjin believes to be a moan, caught somewhere in the back of his throat, as he finally catches a glance of Minho’s release. His tip shoots thick, milky strings of cum onto his toned thighs, and he throws his head back in a state of pure bliss as his hand begins to slow its movements.

From on the bed, Hyunjin can feel his own cock twitch once at the sight of Minho’s finish, and he leans in to press a sloppy kiss upon your lips as he slows his movements, too.

“Cum for me,” Hyunjin coos down at you, his disposition much calmer now. “Your boyfriend’s all finished.”

Little gasps continue to escape your lips as you attempt to kiss him back, instead failing, as your nails claw at his toned back. He thrusts into you several more times, the base of his cock grazing your clit with every stroke. And then his eyes shut, a stifled groan emitting from his plump lips, as he spills his seed into you.

You and Minho both agreed to it, but the feeling is foreign, no doubt, to have another man’s release inside of you like this. His thick white fluid coats your walls with warmth, and when he begins to thrust it back into you, is when you feel yourself let go around him, too.

Your arms wrap around the broad of his back, leg still positioned at an upward angle, as you throw your head back and feel your own release gush out of you.

For a moment, the two of you say nothing, Hyunjin simply steadying himself with one arm on the mattress as he catches his breath.

And then he pulls out again, slowly, the lewd sloshing noises filling the empty room around you.

“Jesus Christ,” Minho remarks with a breathy chuckle.

He watches Hyunjin dress his lower half again, his gaze falling to Minho’s as he fastens his belt buckle again.

“Have everything you need?” He inquires, gesturing at the camcorder. He crouches down briefly, hands sprawled on his knees, before giving the camera a polite smile and a wave.

“Everything, and then some,” Minho jokes.

You’re far too breathless to produce a coherent sentence, simply nodding at Hyunjin to relay your thanks. And then he’s at the doorway again, pulling his thin white tank top back over his torso.

“How much do you make from this shit, again?” Hyunjin asks, not turning to face either of you.

You shoot Minho a small smile, shrugging, and then call out to Hyunjin in response.

“Enough,” is all you say.

He’s quiet for a moment, adjusting the expensive silver watch you hadn’t realized he was wearing around his wrist.

“Let me know if you guys ever need another third,” Hyunjin calls back. “With that performance, safe to say we can negotiate a higher rate.”

*

[florencemtrash]

To sleep at your back

Author's Note: Just a lil oneshot. Lots of fluff — both IC and Azriel x Reader. Sleepy Azriel is the best Azriel! No warnings.

Y/n’s back was beginning to ache, like an uncomfortably hot stone had knotted itself into the base of her spine. She twisted this way and that in her seat, neck craning over the textbook like a slim tree in the wind. Her family members bustled around her. Cassian kneeled on the ground, palms outstretched as striking practice for Nyx. The little boy beat at him with tiny fists, every thump, thump, thump punctuated by a fake grimace from his favorite uncle. 

“You’re becoming too strong for me, little one,” Cassian cried out, cowering to the floor before sprawling out in a dying heap. Nyx leapt onto his chest, declaring his victory for the whole house to hear. 

Nesta smirked from over her book, with Gwyn and Emerie similarly arranged around the coffee table. 

Elain dragged Lucien out by one flour coated arm to watch for a few moments, a sugar-dusted smile on her rosy cheeks as she wiped sweat from her brow. “Dinner’s running late,” she called out before slipping back into the warm kitchen with her mate in tow. 

Everyone hummed their acknowledgement. 

Soon the boy grew tired from their games, but he was too proud to admit it. “What’s taking them so long?” He asked instead, taking the welcome break to lean his damp head of curls under Cassian’s chin. 

“I’m sure they’ll be done anytime now.” Debriefs with Azriel always took long — the male was too thorough for his own good. Nyx made a point to glance at Y/n. His aunt always had a habit of disappearing into her work whenever Azriel was away. It kept her mind off the distance where it might have driven Cassian and Nesta, or Rhysand and Feyre mad. 

Mated couples didn’t like to be separated, especially not for this long. But at least Y/n could hear Azriel in her mind now. The bond had been stretched thin — his voice faint and difficult to hear — during his long months on the Continent. 

Her head jerked up suddenly and no sooner had she stood up from her seat before Azriel was by her side in a burst of darkness. Tendrils of shadow snaked out from his feet, drinking up the sunlight like it was wine until the temperature stuttered with a cool whisper. He sank back into the seat, dragging her with him so she was sitting in between his sprawled out legs. He wrapped his arms firmly around her middle, pressing her back against his chest and nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Whispers were exchanged between presses of lips against skin. She smoothed the rough calluses of his hands, murmuring “Welcome home.”

And he answered in her mind, Gods I love you. 

He rested his chin against her back, watching over her shoulder as she eventually went back to her reading, comforted by his presence so close to her. It was thrilling how much she loved him. Azriel could scarcely believe it most days. 

I can’t believe I get to love you. He thought sleepily. He hadn’t intended to let the thought slip through the bond, but she warmed immediately, cheeks touched with heat. 

You’re a hopeless romantic. She teased. 

He sighed happily, eyelids fluttering shut despite his best efforts. He hadn’t slept well while he was away. He never did. His head grew heavy on her shoulder, but she appreciated the weight of him at her back. 

When dinner was finally ready, and their family members carefully streamed through the kitchen, they marveled at the sight of Azriel fast asleep against Y/n, one hand of hers carded through his black hair.

[sugugasm]

“NERDS DO IT BETTER.” | satoru gojo

⟡ tags : nerd! satoru + popular! yn, gojo loses his virginity at the hot cheerleader’s house party - content includes : reader uses she/her pronouns, fem! reader, riding, fingering, inexperienced! gojo, pet names, etc. also shout out 2 my fav @ramonathinks m’ so proud of this piece bae i hope you luv it jus as much as i do !!! MDNI 19+ 3.7K WC

satoru adjusted his glasses nervously as he and geto approached the sprawling mansion, music and laughter spilling out into the warm night air. “i don’t know about this, man,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “parties aren’t really my scene.”

geto rolled his eyes. “come on, live a little! when was the last time you got out and socialized? besides, you-know-who will be here . .” he elbowed gojo with a knowing grin.

gojo flushed, ducking his head. “like [★] would even look twice at me. she’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”

“well yeah, not with that attitude!” geto chided. “you’re a catch, gojo. smart, funny, stupid handsome. any girl would be lucky to have you. just talk to her, be your charming self. what���s the worst that could happen?”

“she could laugh in my face?” gojo suggested glumly. “or have her quarterback boyfriend beat me up?”

geto sighed in exasperation, slinging an arm around his best friend's shoulders. “you’ll never know if you don’t try. [★] is single and i’ve seen her checking you out in class when she thinks no one’s looking. trust me, you’ve got a shot. don’t waste it being a pussy.”

gojo took a fortifying breath as they crossed the threshold into the packed house. “okay. i’ll talk to her. but if i crash and burn, you owe me a whole tub of ice cream and a weekend of binge gaming, no complaints.”

“deal,” geto agreed easily, scanning the crowd. “now let’s get you a drink and go find your dream girl.”

and within only an hour and several red solo cups later, gojo could be found sandwiched between two jocks on a couch, only half-listening to their drunken debate about the upcoming game. his eyes kept flicking to where you held court across the room, radiant in a barely-there crop top and mini-skirt as you laughed with your girls. you were a vision, beautiful hair and glowing skin and dangly earrings catching the light. ethereal, untouchable.

what would a goddess like you possibly want with a loser like him?

and as if on cue, your gaze met his and your glossy lips curved in a small secret smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. his breathing hitched and he looked away quickly, face heating. okay, maybe geto had a point about you noticing him . . .

“who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?” your bubbly friend tiffany trilled over the music, brandishing an empty vodka bottle. “let’s make things interesting!”

wolf-whistles and drunken cheers met her suggestion as people began arranging themselves in a loose circle. gojo watched you toss your hair over your shoulder as you joined, a strange fluttering in his stomach. he jumped when geto clapped him on the shoulder.

“dude, this is perfect!” geto crowed. “the ideal low-pressure way to get some one-on-one time with [★]. let's get you in that circle.” he started pulling a sputtering gojo up off the couch.

“wha-geto, no way!” gojo protested, but it was too late. geto had already shoved him into the circle, right across from you. you quirked an eyebrow at him and his stomach somersaulted. was that a pleased gleam in your eyes?

the bottle made a few uneventful rounds - geto got seven giggly minutes with the head of the drama club, a blushing band student got dragged off by her fellow tuba player, and then . . tiffany passed the bottle to you with a significant look. gojo’s heart started smacking against his chest as you placed it in the center and gave it a deft spin, slender wrist twisting gracefully.

he watched with bated breath as the bottle rotated, transfixed. it seemed to spin for an eternity before finally slowing . . and stopping. neck pointed directly at gojo. blood roared in his ears as hoots and hollers erupted around the circle. you were looking right at him, a small smile playing about your glossy lips. “guess s’ jus’ you n’ me, cutie,” you said with a wink, getting elegantly to your feet.

in a daze, gojo stumbled upright, barely registering the good-natured ribbing and back slaps from the other players. you held out a hand to him and he took it automatically, skin tingling where it met yours. your fingers laced intimately through his as you tugged him away from the group . . . and toward the stairs?

“um, [★]?” gojo asked, voice cracking humiliatingly. “isn’t the closet that way?”

you threw a smile over your shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “i got a better spot in mind. somethin’ more . . private.”

by the time his sluggish brain processed the implications of that, you were leading him into a bedroom. your bedroom, if the riot of pink and stuffed animals everywhere was any indication. you flicked on a lamp, bathing the space in soft flattering light.

gojo stood awkwardly by the door, heart doing double-time as he drank in the adorable organized chaos. various raye, boygenius, and sanrio posters on the walls, rainbow lego sets on the shelves. it was delightfully telling and somewhat . . surprising, so at odds with your smokeshow attitude and queen bee reputation. he was utterly charmed.

“sorry about the mess,” you said, sounding uncharacteristically shy as you perched on the edge of the lacy bedspread. “i know it’s a lot.”

“no, i love it!” gojo blurted, then winced. real smooth. “i mean, it’s really cute. suits you.”

“yeah?” you asked, sounding pleased. you patted the space beside you in clear invitation. “i don’t bite . . unless i’m asked nicely. c’mon, come sit with me, gojo.”

on slightly unsteady legs, he crossed the plush rug to sink down next to you, hyperaware of the warmth of your bare thigh against his denim-clad one. “so, um, i don’t really know how this is supposed to go,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “i’m not exactly a seven minutes in heaven expert.”

“well, we’ve got some time to figure it out together,” you said, angling your body toward his. “maybe we could start with just talking? get to know each other a little?”

so that’s what you did. you started off with the typical small talk - classes, hobbies, favorite bands. but the conversation quickly deepened and expanded. you found yourself opening up to him, confessing your secret dreams and fears, things you rarely shared with anyone. in turn, he revealed his geeky passions, his insecurities, his hopes for the future.

the more you learned about the sweet, clever, quietly funny boy beneath the nerdy exterior, the more your heart softened and warmed. he was so genuine, so different from the jocks and rich boys you usually ran with. being with him felt comfortable, natural, intoxicating.

at some point, you’d shifted closer to him on the bed, your folded legs overlapping his, shoulders brushing. as you giggled your way through an anecdote, you rested a hand on his strong thigh without thinking. he tensed slightly and you felt a little thrill, a flicker of heat. you squeezed gently, fingertips pressing into firm muscle.

“m’ probably boring you,” you said with a wry smile, glancing at him through your lashes. “jus’ rambling on about myself. we could do something else, if you want. maybe, y’know, uphold the seven minutes tradition . .”

he inhaled sharply and you thrilled at the effect you were clearly having on him. “you mean . . you want to kiss me?”

“i mean, i definitely wouldn’t object,” you murmured coyly. “i like you a lot, satoru. in case it isn’t already obvious.”

his blue eyes darkened behind his glasses. “i really like you too, [★],” he said, voice low and rough. “an embarrassing amount.”

“yeah?” you breathed. “so are you going to kiss me, or . . do i have to beg?”

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “well, um. i-i’ve never really done anything like that before,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle. “i don’t even know how i’ve gotten this far.”

“that’s okay,” you assured him, placing a hand on his knee and feeling him tense slightly under your touch. “we can take it slow, figure it out together. m’ not exactly an expert either.”

he nodded, looking relieved and grateful for your understanding. emboldened, you leaned in, giving him time to pull away. spoiler alert, he didn’t. his eyes just fluttered closed as you brushed your lips softly over his. they were warm and smooth, molding sweetly to your own. after a moment of stillness, he started to move his mouth tentatively against yours.

you let him set the pace, parting your lips in silent invitation. his tongue shyly traced the seam of your mouth and you opened for him on a sigh. he licked inside carefully, exploring you with gentle curiosity that made warmth bloom through your veins. you stroked your tongue along his, encouraging, and felt him shudder against you.

slowly, you sank back into your mountain of pillows, pulling him down with you. he settled over you carefully, a pleasant weight, strong and solid in all the right places. your fingers tangled in his dark hair as the kisses deepened, wetter, hotter. his own hands skimmed down your sides to settle on your hips, squeezing gently as he rocked subtly against you.

when you finally broke apart, you were both flushed and breathing unsteadily. “is this okay?” you checked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “we can stop anytime if you’re uncomfortable.”

he shook his head immediately, eyes dark and intense behind his slightly fogged glasses. “no, i don’t wanna’ stop. i want you so bad, [★]. i’m just nervous i’ll do something wrong.”

your heart melted. “you won’t, satoru,” you promised. “we’ll go slow, i’ll show you. s’ all a process, ‘kay? jus’ do what feels good.”

he nodded, some of the tension easing from his frame. you pulled him back down for another kiss, lush and lingering. as your mouths moved together, you fumbled for the hem of his shirt, rucking it up his back. he broke away just long enough for you to pull it over his head and toss it aside before his lips found yours again.

your hands roamed his bared torso greedily, marveling at the lean muscle, the heat of his skin. gojo might look like a lanky nerd at first glance, but his body told a completely different story. you wanted to map every ridge and plane with your hands and mouth, discover all the secret places that would make him shake and gasp and moan. he shivered as your fingers skimmed over his ribs, his stomach, thumbs just brushing his nipples.

he made a hungry sound into your mouth when you lingered there, circling the tender buds questioningly. taking the hint, you tweaked them gently, rolling the sensitive flesh between your fingers. he jolted against you as if electrified, a moan vibrating in his chest.

“y’like that,” you guessed, doing it again and feeling his hips stutter forward helplessly into the cradle of your thighs.

“y-yeah,” he breathed, sounding almost surprised himself. “it feels really good.”

spurred on by his responsiveness, you devoted yourself to taking him apart, finding all the places that made him twitch and pant and whimper so sweetly. you kissed across his collarbones, scraped your teeth over his pulse point, soothed the sting with your tongue. you felt dizzy with him, drunk on the salt of his skin, his scent of clean and arousal, the incoherent sounds he made under your touch.

before long he was squirming restlessly against you, hard and insistent against your hip. “please,” he mumbled into your hair. “i need . .”

“what do you need?” you coaxed, nipping at his jaw. “tell me.”

he shuddered, hands flexing on your hips as he ground subtly against you. “i need — fuck, i need to touch you. need you to touch me. god, [★], i don’t know, i just . . please?”

“shhh, don’t stress, honey,” you soothed even as heat surged through you at his breathless plea. “let me take care of you.”

hooking a leg around his waist, you flipped your positions in one smooth motion, straddling his hips. he gazed up at you with something like awe, eyes wide and dark, lips kiss-swollen. your heart tripped over itself at the picture he made, wrecked and wanting in your rumpled sheets. quickly, before you could lose your nerve, you stripped off your own top and unhooked your bra, baring yourself to his heated stare. his hands came up immediately to cup your breasts, palming the soft weight greedily before catching your nipples between his fingers.

“aah!” you gasped, arching into the touch as sparks shot down your spine to throb between your legs. your hips rolled down against his, your clothed sexes grinding together deliciously. “y-yes, gojo, jus’ like that!”

emboldened by your encouragement, he explored your body just as thoroughly as you had his, broad hands and curious fingers finding all your most sensitive places. you were panting and mewling by the time he reached the button of your skirt with a questioning glance.

“please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to help him shimmy the fabric down your legs. your panties quickly followed, leaving you bare to his burning gaze. and slowly, almost reverently, he reached out to touch — he couldn’t help it, fingertips skimming up your inner thighs. you shivered and parted them further in silent invitation. his eyes locked on yours as he carefully traced your slick folds, circling your aching entrance before moving up to swirl over your clit.

“show me how you like it?” he rasped, voice low and rough with arousal.

biting back a whimper, you covered his hand with your own, directing his movements. “like this,” you instructed breathlessly, guiding his fingers in tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “a little firmer, mmm . .”

he followed your lead perfectly, rubbing and stroking until your thighs were quaking and you were moaning brokenly. it felt good, so good, but you needed more. “inside,” you pleaded when coherent thought became difficult. “gojo, please, put one inside . .” he swore under his breath at your words but quickly obeyed, carefully sinking one long finger into your fluttering heat. you cried out sharply at the intimate penetration, hips canting down to take him deeper. he watched your face avidly as he started to pump in and out, curling and twisting gently as he went.

“m-more,” you gasped, head thrown back as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “another, toru, i can take it.”

he groaned like he was the one being pleasured as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first, stretching you so exquisitely. he scissored gently, working you open, before crooking them just right to rub firmly against your g-spot.

you collapsed forward onto his chest with a fractured moan, fingers scrabbling at his heaving shoulders as he massaged that magic button with devastating accuracy. you knew you could easily come just like this, spitted on his clever fingers, but it wasn't what you wanted. not for your first time together.

“gojo,” you panted, catching his wrist to still his movements. “i wan’ you inside . .”

his eyes widened with understanding and he swallowed audibly. “a-are you sure?” he asked hoarsely even as his hips twitched up against yours eagerly.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said fiercely, holding his gaze so he could read the sincerity there. “i wan’ you, all of you. please.”

he nodded jerkily. “i want you too,” he said, voice low and intent. "so much, you have no idea.”

then he was kissing you again, hot and urgent, his tongue delving deep as large hands palmed your ass, rocking you against his straining erection. you moaned into his mouth, already imagining how he would feel inside you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.

together, you managed to wrestle him out of his jeans and underwear, your focus narrowing to the breathtaking sight of him laid bare beneath you. all long limbs and lean muscle, skin flushed with arousal, cock thick and hard against his taut stomach. he was beautiful, exquisite, unreal.

“let me . . .” you murmured almost to yourself as you shifted down his body, wanting to taste, to tease. but he caught your shoulders, stopping you.

“next time,” he said with a slightly shy smile at odds with the high color in his cheeks, the stark arousal in his gaze. “i don’t think i’d last right now and i really, really want to be inside you when i cum. if-if that’s okay.”

oh, that was more than okay. it was basically the hottest thing you'd ever heard. “definitely okay,”you confirmed a little breathlessly, reaching for the condom you’d stashed optimistically in your nightstand.

with trembling hands, you opened the packet and rolled the latex down his rigid length. he twitched in your grip when you gave him a few strokes, thumb swirling through the bead of moisture at his tip. “fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back. “you gotta stop or i'll . .”

“i know, baby. i know,” you soothed, moving to straddle his hips once more. your eyes locked as you notched him at your entrance, his hands coming up to grip your hips almost hard enough to bruise. “ready?” at his jerky nod, you sank down slowly, taking him inch by careful inch. he stretched you exquisitely, walls fluttering to accommodate his girth. when your hips met his, you were both panting, pulses racing, skin flushed with pleasure-pain.

“god,” he choked out after a long moment, sounding absolutely wrecked. “you feel incredible. so fucking tight.”

you clenched around him experimentally, walls hugging him ever so sweetly, and he bucked up into you with a low groan. “gojo,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “you’re so deep, so big . .”

“am i hurting you?” he asked, brow creased with concern even as he visibly struggled to keep still.

“n-no,” you assured him. “no s’ perfect, you feel fucking perfect. jus’ . . go slow. lemme’ adjust.”

he did, rocking into you with shallow little thrusts that gradually deepened as you relaxed around him. soon you were moving together, finding a rhythm, the drag of him in and out sparking pleasure along every nerve ending. you leaned down to kiss him messily, all tongue and panted breaths as your hips rolled and ground in tandem.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted between kisses, hands roaming restlessly over your back, your breasts, your ass. “wanted you. still can’t believe this is real.”

“s’ real,” you promised breathlessly, rising and falling faster on his cock as the tension coiled tighter in your core. “i’m real and i’m yours, gojo, all yours . .”

he made a rough sound, fingers digging into your hips as he started thrusting up harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you on every stroke. “mine,” he agreed, voice gravelly and low, sending shivers down your spine. “my [★], fuck, you’re absolutely perfect . .”

you could only moan in response, lost to the sensation of him moving inside you, hitting you so deep, stoking the fire in your belly to an inferno. your thighs burned, sweat blooming on your skin as you chased your peak, so close, almost . .

gojo was close too, you could tell by the telltale twitch and throb of him inside you, his thrusts going erratic. “m’ gonna’ cum,” he warned hoarsely, fingers scrabbling at your hips. “m’ gonna’ cum, m’ gonna’ cum . . i-i can’t h-hold —”

“yes - yes, yes, yes,” you gasped, grinding down hard, fingers flying over your clit. “cum in me satoru, wanna feel you, baby . .”

his hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading them apart before giving you two more sharp thrusts, leaving him cumming with a guttural moan of your name, pulsing hot inside you as you clenched and rippled around him. the feeling of him throbbing and spilling in you was enough to tip you over the edge, a cry tearing from your throat as you shattered around him, cumming so hard you saw white.

you collapsed onto his chest as aftershocks rolled through you, his hips still rocking shallowly into yours, drawing out your mutual pleasure. for a minute, you just panted together, sweat cooling on your skin, pulses calming. you felt him soften up and slip out of you and winced a little at the loss, a tender ache between your thighs. you’d have beard burn too, you just knew it. but it had been more than worth it.

satoru’s hands continued to stroke your back, your hair, as if he was reluctant to let go. you felt the same, luxuriating in his warmth, his scent, the sound of his heartbeat thumping steadily beneath your ear. you never wanted to move.

eventually though, he shifted beneath you and you lifted your head to find him gazing at you with soft, wondering eyes. “hey,” he said quietly, brushing your now-wild hair back from your face. “so, are we like, y’know . .”

“dating?” you finished, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “yes, but only if you want that.”

his answering smile was like the sun coming out. “y-yeah, yeah. i want that. i’ve always wanted that.” he leaned up to kiss you slow and deep, tongue delving languorously into your mouth. “thank you. for showing me. for everything.”

“right back at you,” you murmured against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst. “m’ glad i got the chance.”

“me too.” he nuzzled his nose against yours sweetly. “so . . whaddo’ you wanna’ do now?”

you pulled back slightly to search his face, seeing both hope and trepidation there. “well, i was thinking . . maybe we could cuddle for a lil’ while longer. then, i dunno’, raid the flooded kitchen for snacks. come back up here n’ skip the party . . we could watch a movie? kinda jus’ . . see where it goes.”

relief and happiness shone from his eyes. “i’d really like that. a lot.”

“good.” you pecked his lips once more before settling back onto his chest, ear pressed over his heart. “s’ a date then.” you knew you’d have to leave this little bubble eventually, face the real world and whatever challenges it might bring. but right now, you didn’t care about any of that. right now, you had gojo, warm and solid beneath you, his fingers laced gently through your hair as exhaustion started to pull you under. you had this perfect moment, and the promise of more to come.

as you drifted off, lulled by his heartbeat and even breathing, a small smirk played about your lips.

damn, guess the rumors were true.

nerds really did just do it better.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent.

[fangswbenefits]

Intimacy

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Lactation kink. Fangs. Implied breeding kink. A comprehensive study on intimacy with Miguel O’Hara.

“She’s finally sound asleep.”

Holding back a yawn as you entered the living room, you were promptly met with a very heavy-eyed Miguel O’Hara on the couch, enjoying the comforts of home.

“Thank you,” he said truthfully, straightening up lightly in his seat. “Come here.”

You paced towards him, lazily settling on his lap, both legs framing his as two big and warm hands sprawled across your back, pulling you into an embrace.

Instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut once cheek came to rest on his shoulder, taking in his body warmth and enjoying the steady heartbeat that drummed against your chest.

You figured you might just fall asleep and don’t fight against it. Taking care of a baby had been taking a toll on you both as of late, but it was to be expected.

Still, you missed moments like this. No talking, just feeling right at home in a silent embrace.

Miguel planted a few kisses to the back of your neck, but they were void of any sexual bearing. You knew what he meant with those. Absolute gratitude and devotion.

“Next time, I’ll put her to sleep,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hmm.”

His hands glided along your back, fingertips applying just enough pressure to raise goosebumps across your skin.

“I mean it.”

“You’re also tired,” you drawled out with a yawn, body slumping fully into him. “Work and all that…”

Another tender kiss. “But I have responsibilities here, too.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“You taught me how.”

Point taken.

Silent seconds ticked by and you shifted on his lap into a more comfortable position, ready to enter the valley of dreams.

“I miss you,” he said all of a sudden.

His hands settled on your arms to straighten you, a pair of red eyes encasing yours.

“I miss us.”

Miguel wasn’t a man to deliver empty words as filler, so you knew that he genuinely meant it, which had your heart to skip a beat.

His digital suit began to fragment and reced, exposing the skin underneath. Your placed your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex under your touch.

He was so handsome. Almost unfairly so.

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered.

You nodded, bringing your lips to meet his in a lazy kiss as you dragged your fingers along his hair, earning a moan of approval.

It was a slow and steady kiss. You were in no hurry and wanted to make the most of this rare opportunity.

One of his hands slid to grope your breast and you felt him groan against you lips, breaking contact.

His half-hooded eyes were now on your chest, and as you followed his line of sight, you realised what had caught his attention.

Your shirt was getting soaked with milk.

Damn.

Two round damp spots spread across the fabric that covered each nipple, and you felt instant embarrassment take over. “Sorry… wanted to pump before putting her to bed, but she—”

“Don’t ever apologise for this,” he silenced you at once.

You tried to slide off the couch to fix yourself, but he kept you in place with both hands gripping your waist, pushing you down on him.

“Stay.”

Oh?

“I’ll help.”

Oh.

“Miguel…”

Masterful fingers worked their way down the buttons of your nightgown to reveal your heaving breasts.

You knew that look on his face.

Hunger.

“So full,” he said more to himself, cupping both of them softly.

A few droplets coated both nipples and he brushed the pad of his thumbs along the sensitive skin, earning a jerk from you.

The tingling between your legs emerged in full force from just the sight of him staring at you like he could devour you whole.

He craned his neck just enough to capture one nipple with his lips before latching hungrily.

The overwhelming sensation was enough to have you clinging to his broad shoulders for support. You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped once you felt him sucking gently.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the growing pressure between your legs from his hardening cock.

“Be gentle,” you moaned, caressing his cheek that would rhythmically hollow as he downed your milk.

“Hmmm.”

Then your hand came to his neck and you gently gripped it, feeling his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp.

You stared adoringly at him, slowly grinding into his covered cock. A raw groan reverberated through his throat, and you could tear your eyes away from the sight of the warm liquid pooling in the corner of his mouth.

The latch was just perfect and felt too good.

You brought your hand to caress his face once more, brushing a few strands of his hair away.

“You’re so good…” you moaned.

His cock twitched at your praise, and you could feel the wetness damping his own underwear. Now he was the one leaking for you, his body full on auto-pilot as precum readied him for more.

A couple of droplets began to run down his chin, dripping and drenching his underwear.

“No fangs…”

You’d felt them grazing your skin lightly, but you couldn’t really blame Miguel. His fangs would emerge from either extreme anger or blinding pleasure. A roll from your hips with added pressure was enough to tear his lips from your nipple, head falling back and mouth parting with a raw moan.

He bared both sets of fangs as both hands gripped your waist. Your own mouth dropped open as haziness filled your vision, absolutely revelling in seeing your own milk dripping from his lips and down his muscular neck.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes squeezed shut.

You hurried to collect some of the beads of milk from his skin, but Miguel intercepted you midway, capturing you into a searing kiss. His tongue hurriedly slipped past your lips and you tasted sweetness.

Parting yourself from him, you focused on the grind of your hips and Miguel snapped open his crimson eyes, lust dilating his pupils.

“I’m not… I’m not…” he mumbled incoherently, too lost in his pleasure. “I’m not… lasting…”

You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I’m surprised you lasted this long,” you whispered seductively, pressing a quick kiss to the pulse point on his neck. “So much stamina…”

Miguel was a sucker for praise and it was the easiest and fasted way to get him to crumble.

Your clit rubbed against his covered cock in a steady rhythm as more droplets of milk kept dripping from your nipples. Your eyes roamed along his chest that was glistening as beads of white liquid streamed down.

Suddenly, Miguel pulled you into him, your breasts now squeezed in between you two, more liquid pouring out.

He titled your head and immediately latched his lips against your neck, fangs nearly puncturing the flushed skin.

“You ride me so good,” he murmured hungrily against you.

A moan tangled in your throat and your hips surged to encourage his, ruthlessly intensifying the pleasure. Miguel picked up the speed again and you felt each burst of bliss at every thrust and desperate to feel the next.

Your orgasm was upon you faster than you had expected, the sense of urgency in his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Miguel… Miguel…” you moaned, your panties completely drenched.

“Inside… please…”

Desperate fingers clawed at your underwear, sliding it to the side as the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. He slid inside effortlessly, bottoming up in an instant, and after a moment he gave a harsh cry and shoved himself so deeply and tightly against you that you gasped, clenching hard around him.

Miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck in a failed attempt to muffle his groans.

He kept grinding and rocking against you with stifled grunts, spurting hotly inside.

Only the sounds of your harsh breathing followed, and you sank against him weakly as if drained of all energy.

A familiar waile filled the room, making you wince.

“Shit… were we too loud?” you asked, trying to ease your breathing.

Miguel was still buried deep inside you, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I’ll go check on her.”

You could tell he reluctantly slid out, easing you on your back. The sudden emptiness made you clench involuntarily, and you felt some of his warm cum spilling

“Keep it in,” he said, pressing your legs together as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

Masterlist

[ln4swiftie]

Slim Pickin’s

☕️ ln4 x bestfriend!reader

☕️ where your childhood wish becomes a reality

☕️ warnings - none !! just some fluff and kisses

☕️ word count 1.5k

☕️ a/n : so i heard sabrina carpenters song that’s gonna be on short n’ sweet and then this was born two days later !! enjoy <33

“Maybe I'm gay.”

your best friend, lando, looks at you, confused. “what?” he asks through a chuckle.

you were fed up. The number of douchebag men that you have in your phone and not one of them has ever made it to a second date. That fact makes you want to rip your eyeballs out.

“maybe god just forgot my gay awakening and that’s why i can’t find a boyfriend! maybe i just don’t like men.” you throw your head back on the couch in lando’s living room in monaco.

“i doubt that he just forgot,” lando giggles

you knew this wasn't true. you knew you liked men and only men. because you definitely liked the man sitting at your feet, and you have since you were both 15. you’ve just never ever told him.

And you planned to keep it that way.

you groaned. “No, Lando, you don’t get it! it’s slim pickings around here. half the men in my phone don’t even know the difference between there, their and they’re!” quiet giggles from the man sitting across the couch from you filled the room.

Lando knew you were only joking, yet he can’t help but feel bad at your lack of dating life when he has models flocking toward him at all hours of the day. granted, the girl he wants isn’t even a model. In fact, she’s sitting right in front of him, sprawled out on his couch, complaining about boys. but she didn’t know that.

And he planned on keeping it that way.

—

Throughout your week-long stay in Monaco, you decided to set yourself on a mission to meet a guy and go on a date. On the fourth day, you were successful!

During a coffee run while lando streamed, you met a guy who asked you out to dinner the following night. You were so excited since given your history, the chance of a guy asking you out was close to zero. When he asked you even scanned your surroundings to make sure he was talking to you specifically.

you were getting ready in the guest room of lando’s apartment, since you were staying there during your visit.

while applying your lip liner and gloss, you heard a knock on the door. “Hey, what are you thinking we do for din- woah.”

the curly haired brunette stared at you in awe. you were always beautiful in his eyes, yet right now he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world. it then clicks in lando’s head that you’re not dressed for him. “Why are you all dressed up?!” he teases, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“oh i have a date!” you hum with a smile.

he looks at you confused, like he doesn’t believe you fully. leaning against the doorway “what happened to slim pickings?” he pokes, crossing his arms atop his chest.

“can’t a girl meet a guy and go on a date? gosh.” you scoff, slightly annoyed that he’s teasing you over this. you’d hoped he would be happy you’re crawling your way out of this slump of being single. it was one of the things you loved about him — how he always treated you with nothing but kindness and support.

“Fine, fine, whatever. have fun, i guess” he turns around and ducks into his office, closing the door harsher than you expected. Just as you make a mental reminder to have a talk with him about it, your phone chimes — your date is waiting in the lobby.

lando watches you from the cracked doorway of his office, as you do a final check of your makeup in the mirror of the mud room. he thought you looked beautiful and was silently raging at the fact he isn’t the man you’ve dressed up for tonight. he’s liked you since you both were young kids running through the suburban bristol streets while your parents sat on the patio of his childhood home socializing over cocktails.

You were always there to support him through his racing career and you were the first person he called after McLaren chose to extend his contract. While he doubted himself and everyone told him to leave, you told him to follow his heart and do what felt right to him. Now, he’s a race winner with the team he calls home. To him, it’s always been you. You have always been the girl he pictured his life with.

But his gut always told him you’d never return these feelings back to him.

—

your date went horrible. All the guy did was talk about himself. and once he found out you were friends with some celebrities, the date had ended there for you. although you got some free drinks and a meal out of it. it only made you fall further into this loneliness.

the elevator dings, signaling you’ve arrived at the floor of lando’s apartment. you stumble to lando’s door. the alcohol takes effect and makes you trip into the door, startling Lando who’s standing just on the other side, waiting for you. He throws the door open, finding you standing there with slightly messed up hair and a frown on your face.

“c’mere,” he says quietly, taking you to the couch. sat on the coffee table in front of you, he gently took your foot into his lap. you feel his soft touch as he gently removes your heels from your feet. sending shivers down your spine.

“It was horrible. all he did was talk about himself,” you say frustrated. “I also accidentally let it slip that I knew you, oh, and don’t even get me started on his horrible taste in just about everything.”

He helps you up, taking you to the bathroom and sitting you down on the counter. He rummages through your toiletries bag, before taking out your makeup remover. As he starts removing your makeup, you study every inch of his face, counting every freckle and watching the way his jaw muscles clench as he focuses.

god he was beautiful.

you feel a lump in your throat as tears begin to fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Lando asks, halting his movements.

“it’s just- i'm pretty sure every good man in this world is either taken or dead and its not fair.” you say letting a stray tear fall. in your head you knew you were being dramatic, but the three glasses of wine you had to get through that date have taken full control of your emotions.

Lando chuckles lightly, folding with the used makeup wipe in his hands, he looks to you “well, i’m neither of those things.” he says softly, almost as if he’s upset.

fuck. shit.

“no, no, wait, lando- i didn’t mean it like that, you're a great guy. an amazing guy actually.” you say quickly. he smiles at you as you continue to ramble “i mean, shit, i’d date you in a heartbeat-“

“what?”

you slap your hand over your mouth. holy fuck, did you really just say that? and Lando not saying anything just solidifies that he doesn’t return your feelings. Lando is staring at you like you’ve got three heads coming out of both of your ears.

you start to panic “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that, forget i said any-“ you’re cut off with the feeling of lando’s lips crashing into yours. his hands gently cup your face as he kisses you. you instantly return the kiss. The world slowly falls away leaving just the two of you. your hands moving to find home in his curl, slightly pulling on them. Lando releases a quiet groan. His hands work their way down your body to rest on your hips, gently pulling you closer to him.

Lando pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “I have literally loved you since we were 16.”

you smile at him, “i love you, too.”

The two of you find yourself in Lando's bed watching your favorite movie, wrapped up in eachother. Lando turns his head to look down at you resting on his chest. Admiring your sleepy state as you attempt to stay focused on the movie he gave up on watching. How can he focus on anything else when you were sitting next to him?

the girl he's wanted since the two of you sat on his porch on a late summer night, eating the ice cream his mother tried to hide. giggles filling the air while you pointed out constellations to lando, chatting about where you wanted to be in 5 years.

“Well I hope to be in formula 1” Lando admitted. “You'll be there, I'm sure of it.” you added giving lando a smile he swore was brighter than the stars sat above.

He gasps slightly “don't move”

you freeze as he reaches a hand to your cheek, softly swiping a fallen eyelash holding it in front you.

“Make a wish” he breathed.

You shut your eyes tight, emphasizing the wish you were making before taking a big breath and sending the eyelash into the air. Followed by the sound of giggles coming from the brunette, he asks what you wished for. “If i tell you it won't come true!” you gasp faking offense.

who knew that after 8 years, your wish would finally came true.

🤍☕️.

AYAYAYAYAY ALL DONE !!

big thank u too my lovely friend who edited this and helped me <33

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

luxury & lingerie. a retail au

“𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.”

ᰔ pairing. retail au - rolex salesman gojo x victoria's secret associate reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo is the rolex watch shop's pretty boy & you're the victoria's secret lingerie store's new hire that works across from him. let's just say he's determined to get inside your pants.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, porn with plot (seriously that's all it is), smut, casual sex, possibly comedic, lots of terrible flirting, tiny bit of fluff if you squint, gojo's got a daddy kink that you really have no interest in entertaining, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, blowjobs, oral sex, praise kink, some degradation, sort of cum play, banter, suguru & choso are in it too (the hot-boy sales trio)

ᰔ word count. 6.5k

a/n. hellooo this started with this concept idea i had of hot retail worker gojo who just wants to flirt with you instead of actually do his job lmfao. this was seriously just a stream of my consciousness. hope you enjoy! and thanks to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this. creds to @quinnyundertow for the sephora lipstick idea.

The sound of Suguru’s voice was the last thing going through Gojo’s mind right now.

“Anyways, I put the car in reverse, she’s on aux. I’m thinking, she’s gotta have good taste, right? She’s the one that suggested the Maneskin concert in the first place. But you know what she starts playing? Country music. Fucking country music. And I’m not necessarily opposed to a good— dude, are you even listening?”

Choso leans over the polished display case of the mens’ latest Rolex models, staring at the two idiots in front of him. “No, he’s not. He’s been ogling the tits on that mannequin over there for the past five minutes.”

Gojo finally blinks out of his trance, irritated. “I’m not staring at the mannequin, I’m staring at—”

You. New hire. Over at the Victoria’s Secret that was across from his turf at the mall. You were standing on your tiptoes on a mini ladder, wobbling a little, reaching up for a mannequin at the display window to switch out the corny yellow sleeping mask on its face for one that was a more sleek, satin blue. 

The fabric of your uniform slid up slightly, skin of your midriff exposed, and he has to suck a breath in through his teeth.

“I called dibs on that a week ago,” Suguru says from where he stood, lazily leaning on the counter.

“No fucking way. I’ve got dibs.”

“Dibs? Really? I work with a bunch of prepubescents,” Choso groans, tipping his head back to stare up at fluorescent mall lighting.

Suguru’s voice sounds like he’s lax at the jaw. “Is anyone gonna tell her that’s the ladder they use to prop the door open, and not the one to flash Satoru’s horny ass while changing out a mannequin?” 

“I’ll be the one to tell her,” Gojo says.

At the display window, you slowly peel the panties off of the mannequin without a thought in the world to use the store’s modesty curtain, and Gojo, Suguru & Choso are all staring. And probably every other man within the store’s radius.

“Holy fuck,” Gojo says, strained.

“Holy fuck, indeed,” Suguru marvels.

“She’s clueless,” Choso sighs.

“You can have the mannequin, I get the girl,” Suguru offers, something just to get under Gojo’s skin.

“Shut up. I’m going over there.” He stands up onto his feet from the leather client chair he had been sprawled across up until this point of his shift.

“Can’t wait for you to royally fuck this up,” Choso muses with a smirk, arms crossing at his chest.

Gojo grumbles something under his breath when he hears Suguru’s coo of agreement, and then he’s making his way across to the Victoria’s Secret entrance. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his black dress shirt, as if he expects the sight of the skin at his collarbone to have you seduced like a victorian man seeing a lady’s ankle for the first time.

He makes it through the welcoming glass doors that lead into the sultry & dark ambience that you would expect of a lingerie store, and he rounds to the right, stopping a few feet away from you.

You were combing through a rack now, lips pursed in concentration until he clears his throat.

Glancing over, your shoulders tense and you pull your retail headset earpiece down, leaving it hanging by the wire that was clipped to the neckline of your shirt. His eyes flicker to the nametag pinned above the curve of your breast. You look at him with wide eyes. “Oh, hi sir. How can I help you?”

“Oh, no, I’m not a customer,” Gojo quickly corrects you, although he liked the sound of sir from your lips, “I work over there.” He points with a jerk of his chin towards the obnoxiously gaudy exterior of the Rolex watch store facing the two of you.

You blink at him. “Ah, I see.”

“You new here?” Gojo asks, taking a step forward and resting his elbow up on the metal bar of the rack just to get more into your space. “Haven’t seen you around.”

The corner of your lip turns up slightly at his words. “Why? Do you keep a roster?”

“I—no, not really,” he responds, already a little speechless, “wait, a roster of what?” He’d say he does if it’s a roster of pretty girls he’s been fantasizing about tit-fucking all day long, with you being at the top—no, the only one—on that list.

You shrug a little. It’s kind of meek and cute. “Of new hires?”

He breathes in deep. “Yes. Yes, I do. I just like to make sure the newbies feel welcome around here. Y’know, taken care of.” 

You smile, turn to face him and relax your posture. “Oh. That’s sweet. Yeah, I feel pretty welcome here, thanks.”

“That’s good.”

“I mean, everyone’s been really nice to me so far.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, and I really like the break room on this floor. The last place I worked at didn’t have a toaster oven.”

“No way.”

“I wish the clock-in machine was easier to use though…”

“For sure.”

You glance at him suspiciously in the middle of your rant. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Cause you’re real pretty, angel.”

Your brow raises, the keys hooked to the loop of your jeans jingling as you place a curled hand to your hip. “Angel? Really? Cause of— cause of Victoria’s Secret angels?”

Gojo’s stiff, his elbow still resting on the cool metal pole, and he glances up at the ceiling before looking back down at you. “Uhh…sure? Yes.”

“That’s not very original.”

“Man, you’re really making me work hard for this. Unfortunately, that only makes me want you more.” He leans down closer to you, to catch the scent on your skin, and he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks round as you narrow your eyes at him.

“This is you working hard for it? You haven’t even told me your name yet, watch boy.”

He sees your fingers wrap around the cold metal bar of the rack, and he tries hard not to picture them wrapped around something else, but to no avail. You jut your hip out to bump him, pushing him out of your way, before you start rolling the rack down the store.

He trails behind you. “My name. It’s Satoru. But to you, I can be dadd-”

You stop in your tracks, turning around to face him with a scowl, but he was too distracted by the shape of your backside to be reflexive enough to stop himself in time, and he ends up crashing right into you. The momentum has you falling back with a gasp, tripping over the foot of the rack, and his arm flies around your waist to keep you upright, and then pressed up against him too just for good measure.

His face is just inches away from yours. “Shit. Sorry.”

Your arms are squished between his chest and yours, pinky tickling the skin at his collarbone, and the contact has him reeling. “I-It’s fine,” you say, lashes fluttering, “now let go of me, before I file a harassment complaint.”

He instantly retreats, releasing you, watching you stumble a bit before gaining your balance again. “God, no, please,” he sighs, “I really need this job.”

“You don’t act like it,” you mumble. You fix your hair in front of him and tuck the fabric of your shirt that came loose back into your jeans. He doesn’t have to touch your cheeks to know they feel hot, he can tell from the purse of your lips and the way you won’t make eye contact with him. 

The voices of a couple women are heard from down the aisle, as well as the plastic clinking of hangers on racks as they peruse the sheer bralettes dangling in color-coded fashion. Gojo sees you struggling to pull the rack you were working with away to the side to let them through, and he comes up behind you, gripping the metal bar to do it for you. He catches the fragrance of your hair at the crown of your head, and he inhales slowly.

The women walk by, throwing a few curious glances at the two of you, and Gojo doesn’t move from where he’s holding onto the rack and has his arm pressed against yours, his only lifeline to find some reason to touch you right now.

You start pushing the rack forward again, and he continues to follow you, keeping a more respectful following distance this time. He’s distracted by the pair of crotchless panties hung over your shoulder. He picks them up by the string. “Who the fuck actually wears these?” he asks, dangling them in front of his face and turning them around in the air to inspect it.

Your eyes are set forward for your destination. “Middle-aged women that are desperate to seduce their husbands before those men ride the high of buying a $100k watch by fucking a twenty-something-year-old instead.” You snatch the pair from his hand. “I’m rooting for those women. The men at your Rolex store? Not so much.” 

He’s on your heel until you round to a smaller section of the store, wheeling the rack over to a corner near the collection of lace panties sprinkled across cubbies under dim purple lighting. He glances over his shoulder and takes note that this area’s tucked away from the eyesights of the cash registers and storefront. 

He hears you sigh, then say “Why are you following me?”

He meanders closer to you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “Because…y’know, like I said, I wanna make the new hire feel settled in.”

“I literally feel so very unsettled by you right now,” you say to him with a wry expression as you start sorting through lace underwear, referencing some chart in your hand to get it right.

He walks up to you and peers over your shoulder at the illustration, and notices the way you stiffen a bit but also lean back into him. “Huh…so the cheeky panties go in the left top & bottom cubes. And they’re the ones with medium coverage and…” he squints his eyes at the chart, dim lighting doing him no favors, “and they have an alarming fit.”

You scoff through your nose. “It says alluring fit. Can you read?” 

“I— shut up. Yes I can read.”

You twirl around to face him, a hint of an amused smile to your lips. His eyes widen a bit at the sight of it, until he registers it’s a cheeky one, like those panties.

“Watch boy is illiterate. Must be why you still work in retail.”

“Yes, keep being mean to me, new hire. It’s hot,” he groans, hands still in his pockets as he leans towards you. You don’t shy away, just keep on looking up at him in this little corner he has you in, a twinkle in your pupils now that he wasn’t seeing earlier. 

He’s surprised when your finger hooks the fabric in between two of the buttons on his shirt. You play with the material, pinching it, but never tug on it. “What’s a grown ass man like yourself doing still working for commission at a mall?” 

“Okay, ouch, a little too mean,” he backtracks, watching your tongue briefly swipe across your lip, “let’s be a bit nicer.”

Now you’re tugging on the fabric, hooked finger pulling him closer to you until his hands have to fly out of his pockets and his palms press against the wall, caging you into it. “Illiterate and can’t take a dig. Pick a struggle,” you say to him with a sweet look up.

He’s getting the sense that you’re into him too. He grabs hold of your waist, thumbs rubbing your torso over the fabric of your uniform just to get a feel. “Well,” he starts, bringing your hips forward to his, pressing the erection he was building against you, “this illiterate retail worker could fuck you real good if you’d just give him the chance.”

A small gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth. Fuck, he wants to kiss you. Wants to be the one biting your lip right now. Your hand grabs his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin left exposed by his rolled up sleeve. “It’s…It’s real well, watch boy. You’d fuck me real well.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll fuck you real well,” he tells you, as his head tips towards your cheek, lips brushing against it. It was just a tease, so he pulls away but still looks down at you in closeness. There’s voices around the corner, but he doesn’t really care.

“You’re awfully forward,” you breathe out, and he almost goes insane at the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he can’t help but jerk his hips forward a bit. 

“Y’know what? Fuck it,” he grumbles, pulling the rack across behind him so he’s created a covered haven for the two of you against this wall, and then he kisses you.

There’s a yelp that he muffles from you as his lips move against yours, slow, because you're new to him and he wants to savor it. His hand finds the small of your back, spreads across it, pushing you to arch towards him, and his teeth catch your bottom lip when he feels your breasts press against him. You’re pliant, opening your mouth for him, and he takes up the offer to taste you. Soft & warm pressed up against him, a subtle sweetness on your tongue, and he only pulls away because you squeeze his shoulder hard.

You’re breathing fast, cheeks shy, a little cutely cross-eyed from his proximity when you look up at him. “I-…okay, I’m a little mad that you’re a good kisser.”

He hums, tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly and you grip the collar of his shirt to keep him close. “I’ll kiss you nice in a lot of other places too.”

It doesn’t really take much convincing after that.

“Oh…oh my god—,” you mewl, back against the mirror of one of this fine lingerie establishment’s fitting room stalls, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you raw with the aim to please.

“Shit, knew you’d be tight,” he groans, pressing a kiss to your jaw when you tip your head back in pleasure, throat loose with a moan, “pretty little new hire. Just had to break you in.”

“S-Satoru,” you moan through a breath, the sound of his name on your tongue having his cock twitch inside your walls, mixed with the pain of the grip you had on the hair at the back of his head. 

He has your shirt bunched up along with your bra, tits exposed for him. His head dips to pull a nipple through his teeth as he feeds you with a few slow, deep thrusts, and his eye catches the earpiece of your headset, still clipped to your shirt, bouncing around with every one of his movements inside you. “Really hope that thing’s off,” he mumbles against your skin, “but if it excites you to have it on, I—fuck, I wouldn’t really mind either way.”

Your hand flies to his bicep when he runs his thumb over your clit, legs wrapping around him even tighter. “More. Need more,” you say, head in a haze, and he really could’ve cum inside you right then and there but he holds out to enjoy some more time buried in the warm pleasure of your cunt.

“If you want something from me,” he grunts between thrusts, “you’re gonna have to beg me for it, love.”

“Fuck me harder,” you cry, eyes shut closed, and he almost feels sorry for you.

“That’s a demand,” he informs, pinching the flesh of your ass and enjoying the way you clench around him from the action, “I told you to beg.”

“Please, oh my god, please—,” you start, moving your hips against his now, and he hears the lewd sound of your flesh slapping more fervently against the mirror. “Please fuck me harder.”

“Good girl. Pretty girl,” he praises you, thumb finding your clit again as a reward, “see what you get for being so nice to me now.”

He bucks his hips harder, your arms wrapping around his neck in desperation, chin resting at the top of his head as his lips fall to your neck, and he kisses, nibbles, sucks, anything to get that sweet taste in his mouth while he draws stars over your sensitive bud, eliciting broken whimpers from you over and over again. 

“Gonna let me cum inside?” he asks, feeling his balls jump at just the thought of filling you up, his thighs feeling hot from the anticipation of you giving him the permission. “All that shit talk earlier about me being a dumb mall worker, but you’d still let me finish in you, right?” His hips stutter slightly, vision starting to blur, and he feels your walls flutter tightly too, “cause I bet it turns you on that you’re letting this dumb retail man fuck you senseless in a flimsy little fitting room right now, regardless.”

“Satoru, please,” you’re begging, the crack in your voice hoarse like you’re about to cry from the pleasure.

“Answer me,” he demands, retreating the thumb that was toying with your clit. He pulls one of your arms from where it was wrapped around his neck to pin your wrist to the mirror. “You want me to cum inside you or not?” 

Your hips press so harshly against his that he hardly has any leeway to thrust anymore, and it makes him hiss in protest, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass to let up. “I want—mhh, I want you to cum inside me, please, please,” you plead, desperate, grinding your clit against the skin above his cock, above the place he was buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, the sweet words processing in his head, and he loses all sense of control, motions eager and desperate, chasing after his high and his thumb is barely considerate enough to chase after yours too as it rubs relentlessly over your puffed up clit. You shiver against him, walls clenching around his cock impossibly tight, legs wrapping around his waist possibly even tighter, and he feels every nerve as you come undone around him. The gripping sensation your orgasm had on him has him faltering with harsh thrusts forward, and he holds your hips flush to his as the first spurt of his cum spills into you, followed by more with repetitive juts of his hips until he’s emptied himself entirely into you, and you’re just pumped full of him.

You swat at his chest, squirming as he leaks the last drop from the tip of his dick, and he can tell you’re overstimulated.

“Sorry,” he says through a short exhale, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and he slowly pulls out of you, cock falling limp over his thigh, and he holds you until you find footing on the ground, albeit a bit wobbly. 

“Oh no,” you mewl, clenching your thighs together when you feel his cum starting to drip out, and he quickly bends down to hook your panties up back into place. You give him a pointed look. 

“What? The easiest clean-up is not letting it out,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him so he gets to feel the plushness of your bare breasts against him and he kisses the top of your head. “You’re real good, new hire. Or whatever the fucking proper way to say it is.”

He can tell you’re rolling your eyes even though your face is buried in his chest.

“You’re a dumbass,” you say, sounding muffled.

—

Gojo spends about 90% of his shifts meandering across the shimmering tile floors of the mall to the Victoria’s Secret, and only spends about 10% of them actually being a watch salesman. His boss was starting to get real fuckin’ fed up with him, threatening to fire him yesterday for the two-hour lunch break he took because he was eating you out in a storage closet, but he really couldn’t be bothered to care. He was an addict, and he needed to get his fix. Not before annoying the shit out of you, though.

“Alright, daddy’s home. Let’s get to it. I’m on my lunch break,” he says, walking right up to you in the middle of your shift while you’re folding slip dresses onto a display table, his hand reaching for your waist but you retreat from him.

“For that, get the fuck away from me.”

He sighs. “I’ve been wanting to touch you all day long. Do you purposefully walk your gorgeous self across the front of the store that many times just to tease the hell out of me? I’m suffering.”

“I walk across the storefront because I’m doing my job,” you mumble to him.

“No, I swear, you do it to—”

“Sweets,” one of your coworkers calls out to you from the other end of the store, the one with a pink buzzcut that acts kinda scary. “Is that man bothering you?” she asks through a smack of her gum, “want me to call security?”

“Yes.”

“What—”

After a couple of minutes of vindicating himself to mall security that he is not a threat to public safety, which you watch in amusement with no help at all, he’s shortly back at your side in a different section of the store to annoy you.

“When are you gonna wear one of these for me?” he asks, holding up a pair of jaguar-print panties. 

“Never,” you say to him, scanning the tags on the underwear in a box of new arrivals, “those are ugly.”

“Okay, how about these,” he says, pulling a pair out of the box. “They’re see-through. I like that.”

“No,” you say, snatching it out of his hand.

“Oh c’mon,” he groans, doing a quick glance over his shoulder to check if the coast is clear before taking a step forward, pulling you to him by a finger hooked through the belt hoop of your jeans. “I’ll buy them for you. Ring me up.”

You look up at him, hand placed on his chest but you weren’t pushing him away just yet. “Really? You’re gonna buy me panties from the store I literally work at? At least have the decency to shoplift them for me.”

He has a smile on his face when he leans down closer to you, both hands now playing with the loops of your jeans. “Ohhh you’re into criminals. Will you tackle me to the ground if I do?”

“Yes, to arrest you. Not to fuck you.”

“Why not both?”

“Satoru,” you chastise him when you hear footsteps around the corner, and now you’re pushing him away and clearing your throat before busying yourself with the box again as a few customers walk by. Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets, and then his eyes widen a bit when his knuckles hit something.

“Oh yeah,” he says, “I got you this.” He pulls out a small, shimmering black tube and holds it out to you with an up facing palm. 

You lean forward to glance at it. “Is that…lipstick?”

“Yeah,” he says, “the lady outside Sephora was giving out samples.”

You cross your arms at your chest. “The lady outside Sephora was giving out free samples of lipstick to you?”

“Can you just take it already? My arm’s starting to hurt.”

You swipe it from him and inspect it. Popping the cap open, you twist the cheap plastic adjuster so that the tip of the wax peaks out. It was a deep shade of red. “Did she try to talk to you?”

“Uhh, yeah. Something about how this new formula is smudge-proof or something. Was hoping we could test that out.”

You roll your eyes. “She probably wanted to test that out. With you.”

“What, are you jealous?” 

“Not really, no,” you say and hand the lipstick back to him. He looks at you puzzled. “Lipstick isn’t really for me, sorry.” 

“I literally saw you wear some the other day. That’s what gave me the idea,” he says, “of turning my dick into the shade of your lipstick.”

“Could you be any louder?” you hiss at him, glancing at a coworker who could’ve potentially been in earshot.

He shrugs and pinches the tube of lipstick between two of his fingers, holding it up between the two of you. “You sure you don’t wanna?”

Turns out you were not too opposed to the idea, but he had to earn it by making you cum a couple times in the janitor’s closet at the end of the floor. He likes having to earn the sight of you on your knees, it turned him on way more than he had expected.

“My jaw is so fucking sore,” he complains, opening and closing his mouth a few times to stretch it out, then runs a hand across his jawline. “You were a lot less sensitive today. Took way longer.”

“Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are,” you say, pulling the buckle of his belt loose, sitting back down onto your heels to get more comfortable while you undress him.

“Bullshit. Should’ve used that insult maybe the first or second time I gave you head. It’s too late now, after the filthy things you’ve said to me in your desperation to cum.”

He watches you flutter your lashes a few times, fingers stopping their movements, and you shift a little from where you were seated on the ground. You were aroused, but still committed to the attitude. “I don’t have to do this for you, you know.”

He shudders a little. “Wait, you seriously don’t want to? You don’t have to.”

You sigh. “You were supposed to demand me to do it anyways. Would’ve been hot.” You pull his belt loose and your thumb and index finger pinch the button open with ease. “You don’t wanna fuck me, though?”

“Of course I want to fuck you, I will always want to fuck you. But the last time we got rowdy in here, I almost killed you when I knocked the shelf over.” A chill runs down his spine. “Not taking any more chances.”

You giggle a little at the memory while zipping down the front, then your fingers dig into the fabric of both his slacks and his boxers, pulling them down until he’s sprung free, fully thick and hard, courtesy of the cute sounds you were making earlier while his tongue was playing with your clit.

“Are you not gonna put the lipstick on?” he asks.

“No.” You grab a hold of him mid-way, giving an experimental tug, and raise from your seated position onto your knees. 

“But—”

“I told you, lipstick isn’t my style,” you say, eyes flickering up to him when you kiss the tip. He sucks a breath in.

“Damn, okay. I was genuinely curious if it was smudge proof. The lady was really hyping it up,” he says and he sees your shoulders drop.

“Enough of the Sephora lady,” you mumble, pressing your lips against his tip again, but as less of a kiss.

There’s a sulk in your posture from where you look up at him on your knees. His heart does this weird thing where it aches a little, and he wants to get rid of the pout on your face with a few sweet words, but he settles for pushing the tip of his cock past your lips instead. Works all the same in the end. “Good girl,” he groans when you take him all the way to the back of your throat, and your fingernails dig into the skin of his thigh as you let out a muffled moan.

“Fuck…” He pulls his hips back slightly, allowing you to adjust, but when you swallow and his tip feels the roll of those muscles, he’s pushing into your mouth again. “C-Can you take more?”

You try your best to give him a nod and you bob your head once, tongue swiping over the vein that was throbbing the proof of his need for you right now. 

“I’ll finish fast, baby,” he tells you, voice husky, fingers combing through your hair gently, “just take it how I want it, and I promise I’ll be quick, okay?”

You nod again, thumb rubbing the skin near his groin in reassurance. You squirm a little and press your thighs together when he grips your hair tighter now, encouraging your head to bob up and down on him, and you do as he wants. Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on him, and he swears he’s already close to cumming.

“Yeah…fuck, yeah,” he grunts under his breath, “good. Just—just like that. You’re so good. Pretty girl,” he juts his hips forward to see if you can take it, and you do, “on her knees for me.”

Your throat vibrates with a moan, and he sees you squirm even more. You take him all the way in, to a place deeper than the back of your throat, so well without a gag but there’s a prickle of tears in your eyes, and he rubs your cheek softly while he feels the sweat collect at his temple. “Oh fuck, I’m— shit, baby. I’m close.”

You drag your lips across his length, retreating with a thorough hollow to your cheeks, and release him with a pop and your tongue stuck out connecting a string of your spit to his tip. Your hand immediately starts to rub him up and down as you look up, and the soft panting leaving your lips and fanning across his cock has him swallowing hard. “S-Sorry, needed a break.”

“That’s okay,” he says, swiping at some of the saliva pooled at the corner of your lip. “Take your time.”

You kiss his tip in acknowledgment, then take him in again, this time both hands working at the base as you bob up and down, more free with your moans and the sensation of them reverberating in the canal of your throat makes him grip your hair with both hands, desperate.

“Yes—fuck, yes,” he grunts, head tipping back and hitting the door. “Real close. Your mouth feels so good, you’re driving me insane.”

You suck on him, hard, taking him in to his favorite place that’s at the back of your throat, and when your hand reaches out to play with his balls, paired with the sensation of fast exhales through your nose onto the skin of his groin, his eyes close shut and strained and he’s jerking his hips forward to spill his cum down your throat. “Fuuuuck. Oh my god.” He exhales, watching you swallow over and over again as he pumps into your mouth, then he slowly pulls out when he feels that he’s done.

You sit back down on your heels, hands now neatly folded on your lap, looking up at him and his thumb prods at your bottom lip for you to open your mouth. You do as he wants, tongue hanging out in the process, and he sighs in satisfaction when he sees you’ve swallowed it all. “Beautiful, baby. Come here.”

With a hand wrapped around your arm, he gets you up on your feet and kisses you. You hold onto the fabric of his shirt for purchase, and he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Doing okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod, tightening your grip on his shirt, “I liked it. Liked it when you said I was good.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “More than good, angel. You’re perfect.”

—

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. You look like you could use a break,” Gojo says to you in Victoria’s Secret on a random Saturday morning. He usually always works on Saturday, but he’s never seen you here on a Saturday before. Apparently you were picking up extra shifts since you were going on vacation next week, something about a wedding in Spain. But you’d worked six consecutive shifts in a row, and the exhaustion was starting to show.

“I don’t know…your store scares me,” you respond back to him. You were behind the register, and he was pretending to buy forty-two pairs of panties just to talk to you.

“It’s not scary. I just want to show you around,” he says, standing up straight from where he had been leaning over the counter.

You eventually give in, toying with your name badge as you make your way around the counter to him, eyeing the smile on his face before he leads you through the aisles and eventually across the mall to the Rolex watch store.

It wasn’t horribly busy for a weekend, but there were still a few clients around. Choso was helping out a regular, a man who has bought four $200k watches within the past two months, and Choso’s been biting his nails worried he’s going to have to play witness in a tax evasion court case should that client eventually get caught by the IRS for fraud one of these days.

Suguru comes around the corner the second he sees you walk through the polished glass doors, and Gojo’s already annoyed.

“Hey, it’s the new hire,” he greets you, stretching his hand out and you accept it in a shake. “I’m Suguru.”

“Not really new here anymore,” you say to him after introducing yourself, “been here for a couple months now.”

“Oh really? Time flies. Thanks for all the shows, by the way,” he jerks his head off to the Victoria’s Secret store, “I’ve enjoyed watching the 101 ways you can remove a bra on a mannequin. Might have to incorporate some of them into my personal life.”

Gojo scoffs. “Yeah right, like a woman would let you within a hundred feet of her bra.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow with a sleazy smirk on his face, before leaning closer to you. “Should we prove him wrong about that, darling?”

Gojo hates the way he sees you blink your lashes at him and blush, so he’s grabbing your hand and walking you across the store, away from Suguru. He circles you around to the back near one of the display counters. Ladies’ new Datejust models, pretty classy and feminine. He walks to behind the counter, with you staying on the other side, like you were a genuine sale.

“See anything you like?” he asks, resting his elbow on the glass and peering down through it.

You blink at him. “Uh…of Rolex watches?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm…” you press your index finger to your chin and glance at a few. “I like that one.” You point with that same finger and he follows the line with his eyes.

“Hm,” he says, using his key to unlock the case, then slides the opening to the side to gently pull the watch out. “Oystersteel and yellow gold, 18 karat. Wanna try it on?”

“Sure.”

He releases the safety clasp, pulling apart the band, and slides it through your hand down to your wrist, then fastens the clasp until he hears a click. You immediately raise your wrist up into the air, twisting it to assess, and there’s a sparkle in your eyes.

“How much is it?” you ask.

“Thirty.”

“Thirty-what?”

“Thirty-thousand.”

Your jaw drops. “Oh my god. Get this thing off of me.”

He laughs and his hands find the clasp at your wrist, unfastening it and you’re trembling a bit as you shake it off before he catches it in his palm. “Not my fault you literally chose one of the most expensive watches we have in this section.”

“This is insane. How do people afford any of these?” you ask, feet wandering and now you’re clearly curious as you inspect the cases.

“We have more affordable watches available for lingerie store workers,” he tells you, clicking his tongue to get your attention and you turn around then follow him to the other end of the counter. He points at the glass. “These are all under three-thousand.”

“Oh…” you peer at them with interest, and he watches you. His eyes fall to your wrist.

“Here,” he says, sliding the display case door open, and pulls out another watch, “I think you’d look nice in this.”

He shows it to you for a second before releasing the clasp and holding onto your hand to slide the watch through it. After fastening it, he looks up at your expression, and his heart’s beating a bit faster. You turn your wrist in the air to marvel at the watch, and he thinks your eyes look stunning from the way the shimmer of the watch reflects off of them.

“Wow,” you say.

“I knew you’d look good in anything rose gold,” he says, both elbows on the counter as he watches you, “this one’s only a couple thousand.”

You’re still a little speechless as you look at it, right index finger tracing the dial. He wants to buy it for you. He could, it’s not much of an issue, he’d just have to kiss goodbye to that used gaming PC he’s been eyeing on craigslist for the past couple of months, but something in his gut tells him it’d be worth it. Something in the soft look in your eyes right now tells him it’d be worth it.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“That it’s beautiful,” you say to him, swallowing and then extending your wrist out to him. “Sorry, wearing it for too long. Probably lost a few hundred bucks in value just from the two minutes it was on my wrist.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll buy it for you.”

Your mouth gapes. “W-What?”

“I mean—if you actually like it. Then, I don’t mind,” he says, suddenly a bit flustered.

“Satoru. That’s insane. This is a two-thousand dollar watch.”

He shrugs. “I know, but it looks good on you. I can’t shoplift this one for you, though. But I’ll buy it if you actually want it. And if you lie and say you don’t like it, just to be nice, I’ll read right through it. So be honest.”

“I…” you start, “I really can’t accept that.”

His eyes are level with yours, and something about your persistence in your refusal just makes him want to buy it for you even more. But he’s not gonna push it anymore. He’ll just try to work towards a day where you’ll accept it from him. Where it won’t even be a question to want to decorate you in something as pretty as you are.

“Alright. Then give it back, it’s probably only worth a couple hundred now.”

a/n. hope you enjoyed!! this was fun to write. it was supposed to be longer but i cut it short so maybe part two lol?? i also wanna write versions for choso & suguru in this au lol maybe like a multi in one verse kinda thing haha i like the idea of a hot watch salesman trio. thank you for reading 💕

taglist: @ohsehuniiee @lost-resonance @whereflowerswenttodie @horisdope @therealestpussyeater @satorminniett @tobaccosunbxrst @alekssashka7 @ritsatoru @angrychinchillanoises @shleepyking @crimsonmarabou @mxlktae @bloopsstuff @slut-4-gojo @lil-cinn @wateronlyhaha @strawberiicreme @wintertoru @mo0nforme @whispersofbeskar @who-can-touch-my-boob @quinnyundertow @ramluvr @anthastudios @sabokunsmalia @ninjaturtletoes @rylierev @dvarlinggg @heyitsmirae @sleepyyammy @lofasofabread @lolthatsnice @tetsuski @bakuhoethotski @sureconfused

[screampied]

i saw this on my feed and how about sextherapist!sylus and virgin!reader that struggles with making themselves orgasm? you can go from there 🤗

warnings. — ☆ fem! reader, sēx therapist sylus, virgín reader, praise, dirty talk, semi public, first time squírt, fıngering, mdni.

“oh, so you really weren’t kidding—were you, kitten?” sylus hums, feeling you writhe around his lap in anticipation. you’re so up close to him as your back’s facing the opposite way of his chest. in the far distance, you hear a plethora of noises coming outside of his office. meaningless chit chatter from his coworkers, loud stomps echoing down the hall, his annoying fax machine that forevermore continues to spit out those same clicking cries, and so on. you’ve been attending sessions with sylus for quite some time now, and you just needed to know how to orgasm properly. you tried everything and nothing would work. according to you, it was dire and you wanted to know if it was as good as people say. “daydreamin’ again?” he coos huskily, hot breath colliding near the twitching shell of your ear. a veiny hand of his softly trails down your inner thighs, glancing at your slid to the side panties. “ah, look at her. she’s so gorgeous.”

“sylusss,” you hiss out his name, gingerly wrapping your clammy fingers around his broad cuffed wrist. “hurry up.”

the white haired man snickers at your agitation, and once he teasingly ghosts two thick fingers over your throbbing protected entrance—his chest rumbles from wry laughter. “my, you’re so impatient. but fine, fine. spread these pretty legs, let me see what we’re workin’ with.”

right away, you sprawl your legs out even further then before and you hear him whistle.

“what a sight,” he purrs, and your head slumps back against his chest. it was almost half past ten at night and sylus was technically off work. your session ended about an hour ago but you just persisted that you needed one more thing.

an orgasm.

your nostrils smell his musky scent of loud rich leather and sandalwood that’s smothering all over his clothing. he brushes a thumb over the lace fabric of your panties before feeling just how soaked you were. “cute, bet you were soaked like this the entire time we were chattin’, hm?”

“f- fuck,” you swallow, and a plump tip of his finger gradually pulls at the string of your underwear. you remain laid back against his lap, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure.

the two of you were sitting on a fat cushioned sofa that’s dipping inward from the heavy pounds of weight. sylus was slow — painfully slow, he knew what he was doing. he lets out a raspy chortle, hearing your slow needy breaths featuring each exasperated gasp that leaves from your lips. “sylus, please.” you moan through gritted teeth, the wait just becoming unbearable.

sylus shushes you, pressing his soft lips up near the sloping nape of your neck. “there there,” and he talks over your whines before within seconds, a finger slowly inserts its way inside. you gasp, feeling your tummy heave. his finger was long, not only that but it was very very thick. you started to hear your heartbeat dramatically thump through your ears as he continues to speak. “pay attention now, this right here?” and you whimper, feeling his middle finger swirl around inside of your pussy. he taps against a spot that makes you feel almost every nerve shoot your body. “this is the clit, kitten. and this,” and you moan, hearing the sloshing sounds of your own mess fill the room. sylus gradually plugs in another finger - his pointer finger, and it fully extends immediately, reaching a spongy spot. “this is my favorite, your pretty g-spot.”

“s- sylus,” you suck in a frustrated breath, realizing that he had not one but two fingers inside. he’s very gentle regardless . . gentle and undeniably slow. oh, the wait was killing you. with your flapping lashes fluttering back against your hooded eyelids, you couldn’t help but gnaw at your quivering bottom lip. this was so much better than your own fingers. his was far longer and experienced. his plump lips starts to kiss near your neck this time, softly lolling his tongue down your skin, craving more of your sweet taste. “more, f- finger me.”

“yes ma’am,” he jibes, and it takes him a few dreadfully long seconds before he’s finally making haste. the tone of sylus’s voice was so deep that it nearly shakes you to the very core—you feel his exact rough vibrato against you. he hears the irregular changes of your breathing whilst his fingers continue to roam inside of your cunt.

“mhm, there’s about over ten thousand pretty little nerves stored up in here,” and he’s just casually talking over your babbling whines. the tips of his fingers were now already so soaked with your sappy slick. it’s gluing against his digits effortlessly — sweet like honey. your folds were just drooling, and every so often, he pulls his fingers out just to stare at the slippery sloppy mess. “how’s it feel? talk to me, sweet girl.”

as your body resumes to tingle from the circular maneuvers of his two fat digits, you let off a loud moan, peering at your left thigh that’s starting to mercilessly shake. “good—fuck, so good,” you whine, the stimulation making you merely bite down on your tongue. sylus hums in amusement, noticing how your thighs would just fail to stay still—it’s cute, you’re a jittery mess but your hand finds it’s way wrapping around his wrist again. “faster,” you plead, and your eyes nearly roll back once he’s just repeatedly toying with your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again.

your gummy walls accepted sylus’s fingers freely and it was so snug, your mouth can’t help but start to salivate once you realize you’re coming close. he’s quick, plummeting such inches of just two simple digits in and out of you at such a maddened pace. he’s using his entire wrist, his finger work had your toes curling in awe.

“ah, easy now kitten. just relax and bare around ‘em. there’s no rushing a pretty pussy this sloppy,” and he’s speaking right up against your ear again. if you weren’t throbbing then, you definitely were now. sylus even licks against the edge of your ear, giving it a playful nibble. “c’mooon, give me that orgasm, uh huh. make me proud, sweetie.”

“hngh, s-sylus,” you whimper out loudly, your entire body growing tense. sylus’s free hand creeps toward your tummy, softly caressing against your bare skin that’s loosely tucked underneath your blouse. this was so risky. anyone could just walk in and see you - you and him, but you didn’t care—you didn’t care, especially when you were so close to making a mess all his sofa. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“let go for me,” he whispers, and his tone was so soothing. it’s almost as if he wasn’t inches deep inside of your swollen pulsating cunt with two thick fingers. in and out, he’s shoving them in and out of you, twisting them around and curling them all throughout your gripping walls. fuck, your toes were scrunched up, feeling such rippling waves surge through you. you were almost positive that if it wasn’t for the help of his hand holding you steady in place against his lap, you’d fall right from his grasp. sylus brings one final kiss toward the back of your collarbone before humming. “atta girl. just give it to me. c’mon, all on my fingers.”

but abruptly, right as you’re coming undone, you feel yourself spraying your translucent slick all on his pumping fingers. a shrieking scream dies from the back of your throat and he finds it oh so cute.

sylus feels you pulsing around him and he grows quiet—you huff out heavy heaving breaths, realizing that you’re squirting. it only lasts for a few seconds but it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “oh my g- godddd.” you collapse back against his chest, his fingertips delicately plying with your prodding g-spot for just a few seconds longer before he pulls them out. slowly, sylus retracts his digits out of your puffy cunt, watching how it’s now glistening with your honeyed sap.

“aw,” he breaks the silence, hearing your pussy squeal again with numerous squelches as he’s dragging out his two drenched fingers. you’re still so sensitive, it’s like your entire body was burning up with fiery scorching hot heat. it’s intense, your thighs shamelessly try to squeeze themselves shut whilst you’re just rigorously shuddering on his lap. “would you look at thaaaat,” and his arms wrap around you. “such a good girl. although you’ve made quite the mess.”

in the midst of him sweet talking, praising you and all, you’re panting heavily. your sighing chest’s raising up and down as you’re just laid out on his lap, exhausted. as you’re chasing your own scurried breaths, sylus kisses the top back of your head. “again,” you moan, a strain in your voice. despite how your legs were still shivering—you craved more, you wanted to orgasm like that over and over. “t- teach me how to do again.”

“to squirt?” sylus raises a snowy white brow, turning you around to face him. his crimson eyes bore into yours and there’s that same sly smile stretching across his lips once you desperately nod. “hm, alright. but this time, i just might have to teach you with my tongue,” and you feel yourself throb once he’s slowly making you recline yourself back against his velvet-colored settee. “now lie back kitten, doctor’s orders. .”

[alwaysmoncheri]

summary: no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it

cw: female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread, 1.1k

<3

You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.

Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.

Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.

Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.

“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”

“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”

“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”

“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.

“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you. 

“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.

“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.

You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.

“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.

James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.

James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.

The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.

“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.

“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.

“And I’ll always be your girl.”

<3

masterlist . james potter masterlist

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.