#time to break my thumbs again i guess
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aroyalpaininthecass · 8 months ago
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Yeah I am really going to ask my doctor effectively about tranquilizers tomorrow, simply because I do not trust myself not to scream while having to spend time with my asshole of a boss for a few times a week from now on
I can't get out of here fast enough
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laligraves · 6 months ago
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morning run
joel miller x fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 
You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 
“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 
“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 
“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 
She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 
You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 
“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 
She throws a sponge at your head. 
“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 
“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 
You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 
You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 
She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 
So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 
You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 
Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 
“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 
He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 
You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   
“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 
“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 
“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”
He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  
“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 
“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 
Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 
“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 
“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 
“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”
Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 
“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 
With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  
You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 
Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 
You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 
“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 
“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 
You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 
“Good morning,” you whisper. 
He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 
“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 
You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 
“How did you know–” 
“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 
His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 
“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 
He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 
“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 
His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 
“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 
“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 
His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 
As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 
“How dare you–”  
“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 
Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 
“Let me go or I’ll scream–”
“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 
Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 
Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.
He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 
“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 
She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 
“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  
Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  
“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 
You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 
“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 
Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  
He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 
“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 
“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 
Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 
Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 
“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 
Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 
“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 
You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 
“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 
A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 
“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 
You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 
“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 
“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 
His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 
“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 
Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 
“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 
Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 
“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 
You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 
Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 
“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 
“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 
“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 
Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 
“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”
You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 
You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 
Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 
“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 
“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 
He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 
You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.
Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.
He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.
Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.
You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.
You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.
"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.
"What? No, why?"
"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 
Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from. 
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suguann · 9 months ago
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✎. simon will do this, if it makes johnny feel better.
tags. fem!reader, established relationship (simon/reader), threesome, double penetration in one hole, slight size kink, dirty talk [18+ only]
featuring. simon, soap
masterlist
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Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. Anybody will tell you: he can be a real nice guy when he wants to be.
And you don’t mind the extra company or another mouth to feed, that the flowers in the vase you put on the counter were meant for someone else, how Johnny gets flirty after his fourth beer, or— 
“Fuck, love,” Simon grunts into your shoulder when he finally eases his cock into you beside Johnny’s. “I guess you can take it like a champ, after all.”
But you hardly hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and the creaky mattress below your knees.
Johnny thumbs away your tears while you tremble above him, cupping your face to pull you into a kiss so you have something to focus on other than the feeling of being split down the middle—it takes an extra amount of effort not to clench down when you already feel like you’re about to break in two.
“Look at you,” Johnny mumbles against your lips. “Never thought you’d really let me do this.”
Then he pulls out, slick heat gripping him the whole way, and pushes deeper inside, punching a shaky breath out of you. 
He and Simon are in perfect sync, keeping you full while the other drags his cock out, only to fill you up again. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are—at how much you like it—a hazy cloud settling over you as they use you for their pleasure.
Because Johnny’s sad, and you have a thing for making people happy.
Simon sucks little possessive marks into your shoulder and across your spine, murmuring filthy praise against your skin that consists of “sweetest and tightest pussy, my perfect little fucktoy” and “so fucking pretty.”
“That’s it.” Johnny’s voice is low and strained, barely heard above the loud squelching between your legs, but he sighs it into your mouth as he slowly comes apart. “Fuck—ah—you feel so good.”
A hand dips between you to press against your belly, where you can feel them, hot and heavy against your walls, making you squeal as a little ball of warmth travels down to your toes and all the way to the tips of your fingers. Simon fists your hair, tugging you away from Johnny so you’re looking up at him upside down. 
“So greedy that you needed two cocks to fill this soft little cunt, huh?”
You whine, unable to form an actual response outside of a few jumbled syllables, but a slap against your ass makes you whisper a shuddered yes.
He tells you to open your mouth before he spits onto your awaiting tongue, some of it hitting your cheek. When you swallow obediently, he smears what doesn’t make it across your lips with the thick pad of his thumb. 
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” he sneers, at odds with the soft way he kisses your cheek and reverently chokes on your name. Neither of you hear Johnny groaning under you as you clench down hard at the possessiveness in his voice—because at the feel of his wedding band pressing against your throat like a brand, how can you forget?
Simon doesn’t share, but this, he’ll do. Just this once because you’re already his, and he wants Johnny to know what it’s like to have a woman like you.
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allbark-no-bite · 6 months ago
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good boy.
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art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)
summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC
warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating
author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are
————————————————————————
You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.
She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."
Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.
"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.
This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.
"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"
Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"
Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.
Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.
"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.
Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.
Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.
It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.
"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.
Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.
So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.
He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.
A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.
'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'
She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.
'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'
Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.
“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.
Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.
Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.
"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.
He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."
His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.
"I want to hear it from you."
"I felt fine."
Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.
"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.
You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.
"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.
You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.
"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"
'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."
Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.
"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.
Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."
Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"
You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.
"Look at me."
He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.
His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.
Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.
"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."
The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.
Art Donaldson lived to be praised.
You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"
Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.
"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.
You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"
Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.
"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."
Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.
Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.
His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.
Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.
When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.
His breath is shallow—anticipatory.
"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.
"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.
"You know you don't have to ask."
There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.
It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.
Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.
Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 
You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.
His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.
“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”
You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.
“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.
Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.
Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.
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hanasnx · 7 months ago
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baby daddy jason for when the one parent-teacher conference the sweet unassuming teachers like “mrs. Todd” and you’re “uhhh we’re not married”, but Jason, despite not being up to the commitment, likes the idea. He definitely would not correct the teacher like you immediately would.
Actually idk where I was going with this I had an idea but then it kinda stopped soz
MINORS DNI 18+
You’re not even sure how it happened. In your opinion, it’s best that BABY DADDY!JASON TODD stay far away from you and your daughter. Maybe he sifted through your mail the last time he snuck in, maybe he intercepted your calls, maybe he followed her to school to add himself to her emergency contacts—all completely feasible when dealing with someone so meticulously thorough and annoyingly committed. You’re face to face with him outside your daughter’s teacher’s door.
“What are you doing here?” you seethe in a whisper, avoiding a scene.
Jason’s face twists in feigned confusion, pointing to the flyer on the wall. He reads out its words as his finger follows along, “‘Parent teacher conference.’” He points to himself finally. “Parent.” A smug curl forms on his lips, standing tall in outsmarting you even though it’s not what you asked.
Your nostrils flare as you suck in a breath. Unfortunately, Jason is exceptional at getting on your nerves. You wonder how he managed knocking you up. Advancing on him, he mirrors you, meeting you in the middle as you engage him, “Jason, I don’t want you here—“
The door swings open, and you jump in place, leaning away abruptly. Jason coolly inclines back, shoving his hands in his pockets, he’s got nothing to hide. Your daughter’s teacher greets you both with a cheerful grin, beckoning you in. “You made it! Come on in, come on in.” You exchange a warning glance with Jason, but you clutch your purse strap and duck in while he trails leisurely after.
The meeting goes well, the teacher rants and raves about your daughter, especially about her art skills, showcasing that talent with pictures of it. You open your mouth to speak, but Jason beats you to it, “Takes after her mother, huh? What do you know?” he says with pride, and you witness a genuine grin on his lips as he leans forward to take a closer look at the mess of glitter and stickers in the teacher’s hands.
Your heart skips a beat, and you fiddle with your hands in your lap. One reason you try to stay away from Jason is because of times like these. Makes you second guess your decision to end things with him, and that’s exactly what’s most dangerous.
“So, Mrs. Todd—“ the teacher’s voice breaks you from your stupor, gaze snapping up to her as you furrow your brows.
“Oh, we’re not married.” you object, interrupting her starkly, and she flushes, setting the artwork down with a nervous smile.
“Oh! My mistake. You two just seem so close…”
Jason sighs, raising an arm to wrap around the back of your chair. “Well, not yet.” he says with certainty, and you turn your attention to him, glancing at his arm placement and how the sleeve of his biker jacket brushes your hair. His hand cups your shoulder, which you stare at, and glare when he starts stroking your skin with his thumb. What makes you the most angry is not the entitlement to touch you—which he’s always had—but how he’s clearly messing with you on purpose. This is just like his brand of cruelty, embarrassing you further in a social situation. You tune out whatever crap he’s telling the teacher about the fake wedding and you peel his arm away from you, shoving it back into his lap.
“No, that’s not happening.” you object again, harsher this time and Jason merely scoffs through his nose as you deal with the poor confused teacher.
After the meeting, you’re practically corralled out of that room bickering. You somehow end up on the back of his bike instead of in the car you drove here. Somehow, further, letting him inside your place. Shouting over each other about how inconsiderate he is, and how serious you are, curtly removing your outerwear.
“Would it really be that bad?” he yells, that loud voice that gets you weak in the knees booming through your apartment. You’re lucky your babysitter still has your daughter. “Being married to me, would it really be that bad?”
“It’s not about that, Jason! You know that!”
Your objections are drowned out in how his big body herds you into your bedroom, how his hands push you down to rip off your jeans. How he palms your mouth to shut you up while he’s kissing on your neck, clumsily searching for the give in between your legs. His tip eases in as you lazily bat at his hefty shoulders and thick biceps. “Don’t wanna be Mrs. Todd, huh?” You relax under him the longer he’s inside you, rutting into you with patience as you jerk your head away from him. “What’s wrong with that? Don’t want my name? Don’t wanna be a happy little family?”
Your fist bangs against his rotator cuff and he laughs, husky and light in your ear. His teeth latch onto your lobe, playfully tugging on it while he bottoms out, and you emit a noise from your throat.
“Mrs. Todd,” he chides, “So wet for your husband. S’almost like you want it.”
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ilovewomenfr · 3 months ago
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just take your shit and go
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click before reading
ex!abby, bottom!reader
men dni!!!! NSFW
cw: pretty vanilla, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), praise kink, make up sex, idk what else
a/n: yall i thought i would be done this on tuesday. ive been so busy this week w work and life ive barely had time to write. this one’s a bit short but i had to get this idea down. i might improve it some time in the future. not proofreading and i kind of dont like it but thats ok. also requests are open as always. AND THANK YOU FOR SM SUPPORT ON YOU ARE SUCH A NERD! I GENUINELY WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT. xx.
you and your ex broke up two weeks ago, a huge fight blew up between the two of you which is why abby is at the door of your apartment, backpack slung over her shoulder, to collect the rest of her things. when you answer the door, you see abby’s gaze rake over your body.
“seriously abs?” you scoff at her, looking down at your abby’s baggy t-shirt, “do i get my shirt back?” she asks as she rolls her eyes at you, gesturing to the band tee. “oh. uh. yeah. i guess” you respond in a quiet tone.
“do you want a drink or something?” you offer and abby shakes her head, her blonde braid moving along with. the braid she would only take out at home when she was with you. the braid you used to tug on when she was drunk off your pussy to see her half-lidded blue eyes. you lick your bottom lip at the thought before shaking it away.
“are you gonna let me come in?” abby asks in a slightly annoyed tone. you get out of the doorway and allow her to come into the apartment. “most of your stuff is on the couch,” you mumble as you point over to the piles of things you threw onto the couch in a blind rage the night she left.
“aw how sweet of you to put everything on the couch for me.” abby says sarcastically, resulting in an eye roll from you. “just take your shit and go.” you grab a couple boxes and put them on the coffee table. you watch as she starts packing away her clothes into the boxes, standing awkwardly. “so this is it then?” you ask,
“what do you mean?”
“all it took was a fight.”
abby walks over to you, crossing her arms and resting her weight on her hip, “you were the one who told me to get out and never talk to you again, if i remember correctly.”
“because i was mad. i didnt actually expect you to go.” you look up to her eyes, trying to find any trace of resentment, but you find none. instead you still find love, “why are you looking at me like that?” she puts her hands on your waist, instinctively your own arms wrap around her neck. “im not looking at you like anything.”
“you are.” you play with her braid, “you’re looking at me like you still care.” she leans in and kisses you, catching you by surprise. the kiss is full of longing and desire. the way she holds you makes you feel as though a fire is stirring within you. she pulls away and sighs, walking back to the couch and sitting down.
“youre so confusing. i mean you tell me to go then dont want me to go? then you dont even text me for two weeks and when you finally do its because you want my stuff out of the apartment.” you nod, knowing you’re in the wrong here. “but i still care about you y/n.” abby leans back on the couch, practically beckoning you to come and sit on her lap.
you make your way over to the couch, sitting in silence as the both of you look at each other, tension growing in the air. “im sorry. i shouldn’t have told you to go.” you apologize, breaking the silence. “i shouldn’t have left.” her voice is softer than before, her hand find its way to your knee and her thumb brushes soothingly along your skin. the apology hangs over the two of you, and once again your eyes meet. abby’s eyes have a look of desire in them, one you know all too well. that’s all it takes for you to climb over and straddle her.
her hands find your hips immediately, “i’ve missed you, ya know.” you say gently, “prove it.” your hands hold her face and you kiss her again, sensually and slowly. abby’s hands run up your back to your hair trying to deepen the kiss. you part you lips and your tongue meets hers. you almost moan at the familiar taste, but you pull away instead, “does that prove it?” she lowers you onto the couch so you’re below her, “haven’t proved it quite yet.” she murmurs as she captures your lips once more. her hands slide up under your shirt as your tongues dance together, palming and squeezing your breasts, the simple action resulting in arousal shooting down to your core. she captures your moans with her mouth, before planting kisses down your neck, suckling the sweet skin.
moments later both your clothes are on the floor as abby kisses your inner thighs, “abs please” you beg, “i need you.” she looks up at you, “mm look at you begging for me, so needy, huh?” she goes back to sucking and kissing your thighs and you push her head towards your soaked pussy, “abbyyyy please.” you beg, “hm? what do you need pretty girl? need me to eat your pussy?” she nudges your clit with her nose eliciting a needy whine from you. “fuck, just eat me out already! please!” your begs are desperate now, your aching cunt waiting for attention. she pulls your legs over her shoulders and laps your slick, the sensation drawing a shiver from you. your hands clutch her hair as she begins sucking your clit, “fuck abby yeah” the moan is involuntary and in response you feel the vibration of her own.
youre a complete mess under her by the time the knot in your stomach snaps, your release dripping out of you pussy and onto your thighs. abby just keeps going, lewd sounds leaving you and echoing around your living room. she slips her fingers into you and curls them, your back arches as she repeatedly hits your g-spot, “so fuckin pretty when you’re falling apart baby” she murmurs softly. she uses her thumb on your clit and it’s like you’re on top of the world, your cries are becoming pornographic at this point and it’s just egging her on, “yeah, you like my fingers filling you dont you?” she nips your hip, “mmhh yeahhh. fuck baby ‘m gonna cum!” she keeps hitting your g-spot and the pressure building up inside of you reaches its peak, you feel your legs shaking as you cum on her fingers, “youre doing so good for me baby.” she lets you ride out your high on her before sliding her fingers out, “fuck i missed you so much abby” you say, she kisses you, “i missed you too”
tags: @jamiesturniolo
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heeliopheelia · 7 months ago
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𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊
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genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 1.6k
a/n: felt like writing something fluffy again 🤍 this being written on the same night as my previous smut fic is lowkey diabolical but well 🤭
masterlist
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LEE HEESEUNG
You set your phone on a makeshift camera-holder made from books and candles, then press record and shuffle back to your boyfriend. 
“Okay, close your eyes,” you instruct him and smile when he obliges, additionally turning his head to the side, looking straight into the camera as you apply the first chapstick from your little stack. After a couple seconds, you call out to him again, “You can open them now!”
His eyes instantly drop to your lips, the subtle glow of the chapstick already making him impatient to kiss you. 
“You can go n-”
Your words are rudely interrupted by his greedy lips. They move with yours, starting with a simple peck, then going a little deeper, to taste you better. The sweetness is a little too much for him but he’s having too much fun teasing you this way to pull away right away. 
But once he finally does, he’s met with your expecting eyes.
“Watermelon,” he guesses.
You nod your head with a wide smile. “Yeah!” 
A small grimace makes its way on his face. “I fucking hated this one.”
“Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan either. Now, turn around.”
You wipe off the chapstick before carefully applying another one. Your fingers barely touch Heeseung’s shoulder to catch his attention, when his mouth is already latching onto yours. 
He savors the taste of your lips, slowly and sensually and you feel more lightheaded with every next second. He captures your bottom lip, sucking on it repeatedly until you can’t breathe anymore. Suddenly reminding yourself of your surroundings, you pull away abruptly, ignoring your boyfriend’s cocky smirk.
Clearing your throat, you fix your hair. “Great. Now I can’t post it anywhere.”
Heeseung grins at your pout, hand reaching up to pinch at your cheek teasingly. 
“It was coconut, by the way,” he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask it, and damn, he’s right again.
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PARK JAY
Jay watches as a grin spreads onto your lips. 
“I picked that one just for you,” you say sweetly, shuffling closer on the bed until your knees touch. “C’mon, give it a try.”
He snickers slightly when you close your eyes and obnoxiously pucker your lips, waiting for him to make a move. Leaning forward, he gently cradles your cheek in his hand before pressing the softest of kisses on your lips. You let him suck on your lips for a moment before he pulls away first and flicks your nose.
“Oh, that’s honey.”
You nod with enthusiasm, pretending as if his kiss hasn’t flipped your insides out. “Yeah. Good guess!”
He closes his eyes, his hand blindly reaching out for yours to rub circles on your soft skin as you apply the next chapstick. You smack your lips together to even out the product, then move closer to your boyfriend again. 
His pretty eyes find yours again and he closes the space between you two, pressing your lips together lovingly. Your fingers clench on his t-shirt, and you tilt your face to the side to deepen the kiss slightly. And, fuck, you just can’t help yourself. 
It’s Jay who has to pull away again with a small giggle, thumb wiping away the smudged chapstick from under your bottom lip. 
He licks his lips, tasting the waxy residue you’ve left from your kiss. Then he thinks for a second. “... Peach?” 
You nod with a satisfied hum. “One more?” 
This time you’re not gonna fuck around. You pick the most bizarre chapstick flavor in front of your eyes, then call Jay over to you, waiting for him with a soft smile on your lips.
“This one’s a little more difficult.”
Jay grunts then kisses your pink, now slightly swollen lips. A content sigh escapes your lips at his tender touch, shivering when the cool ring on his finger brushes over the skin on your thigh. The kiss lasts a little longer than the two previous ones but Jay breaks it after stealing all of your breath away.
“I think it’s like… pear,” he guesses, a little unsurely this time but this expression melts away when your face lightens up again. 
“Yeah! Holy shit, babe, how are you so good at this?”
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SIM JAKE
He didn’t even need a second to think to agree to your game. Now, with you sitting across from him on the living room floor, he presses your lips together to try the first chapstick.
What he never expected was for you to taste so damn good, so with a low hum in his throat, he pulls you closer to him by your neck and takes in all the sweetness of you. His other hand lands right under your jaw, gentle fingers tilting your face up for a better access to your lips.
After another second or two or five, you drag your face away from his and wait for your boyfriend’s guess. 
Jake licks his lips and tries his best to look as if he actually has a clue of what he’s doing. It’s not like he got completely fucking lost in your lips – not at all, what a stupid thought.
And so he shoots blankly. “Okay, this gotta be like… tangerine.”
You look at him ridiculously. “What, no! That was vanilla.”
“Oh… Yeah, you’re right,” he clears his throat, hand running through his soft hair. “Gimme the next one.”
You roll your eyes and throw a blanket across his face, knowing well his tendencies to cheating. You take one of your makeup wipes and clean your lips, eyes searching for some easy flavor. Once you’re done picking, you take the blanket off of Jake’s face and get on your knees in front of him.
Deciding on helping him out a little bit and not letting him get distracted again, you place a simple peck on his mouth, long enough for him to actually get a taste of your chapstick. 
Jake presses his lips together as he thinks for a moment. “Is it apricot?”
Your jaw slacks in disbelief. “Oh, be so for real right now! That was like the easiest guess of them all!”
“Well, what was it?” He scrunches his nose.
“Strawberry! Fuck you mean apricot?”
Jake can’t help but giggle at how aggravated you’re getting with this game. “Sorry, sorry. One last try! I promise I’ll get this one.” He places his palm over his heart.
“Fine.”
You repeat the procedure, then go in for a peck again, not wanting to risk losing your boyfriend again. 
“And?” You ask, a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.
“Cherry.”
You let out a heavy sigh. “That was rose.”
Jake snickers, finally grabbing your waist to drag you all over the way to his lap. “Should’ve guessed that. You tasted like a granny, felt like I was kissing a seventy year old.”
“Hey!”
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PARK SUNGHOON
Even expecting him to actually take you seriously was your first mistake. 
But your lips are so pink and so glossy – you can’t blame him, really. It’s like you’re begging to be kissed over and over again.
And so now, sitting next to you on the couch, he has your soft hand covering his eyes to prevent him from cheating. You apply the mango chapstick generously onto your lips and return your boyfriend’s vision a moment later.
You turn your face to his unimpressed one, an adorably excited smile spread on your lips and making his own twitch up a little. 
“You ready?” You chirp, hiding the chapstick behind your back. 
He motions for you to move closer, spreading his legs to make you more place in between them. “C’mere, baby.”
With a roll of your eyes, you still oblige and settle between his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck. Not wasting any more time, Sunghoon ducks down and captures your lips with his. The kiss is deep and takes all of your breath away when his tongue slides over your bottom lip lewdly. 
His kiss is way too intense for the silly game you had in mind in the first place, so before he can go even further, you pull away from him, cupping his chin in your hand.
“So?” 
Sunghoon shrugs, eyes hungry for more. “Dunno. Lemme have another go.”
“Hey!” You pout, puckering your lips and giving him a perfect opportunity to press another kiss to them. And so he does, surging forward and molding your mouths together again. 
He sucks on your lip like a hungry man, his caresses sloppy and without a care in the world for your game anymore. His body aches for you, for more, so he opens your mouth by tugging your chin down gently with his warm fingers, then slipping his tongue inside your mouth. 
“My god, Hoon-” You push on his chest gently, trying to pry the visibly touch-starved man away from your lips. “Wait, let me try another one.”
Sunghoon dismisses your protests and presses another kiss to your lips. “Nah, I like that one.”
“But that’s the first one I tried on!” You whine, slowly surrendering yourself to your stubborn boyfriend.
“Well, then it obviously was the best pick.”
Sunghoon’s arm slides down to wrap around your waist firmly before falling backwards on the couch and pulling you onto his chest as he goes down. He chuckles in your lips at your annoyed grunt, his fingers cradling your cheek as he deepens the kiss. As much as you want to tell yourself you’ll never play this fucking game with him again, you know it would be a blatant lie after all.
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permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @seongiewon @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb
© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.
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huhmiya · 2 months ago
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INNOCENT GIRL | matt sturniolo
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pairing: bf!matt x f!reader
summary: you have always been an innocent girl to everyone, but matt has noticed your attitude and actions, which led him to punishing you.
warning: smut, dom!matt, swearing, p in v, pet names (slut, baby, love, darling, bad girl, bitch), unprotected sex, hair pulling, use of y/n, crying, nipple playing, dirty talking, blow job, rough sex, bratty y/n.
a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. agh, a bit rushed and late to say but I’m so happy that the sturniolo triplets are at 7M
WORDS: 2.6k
huhmiya on wattpad
you - pink | matt - blue
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Matt adored you deeply and always made sure you felt that. He appreciated your gentle nature and how much of a kind hearted person you were.
He was always tender with you, knowing you were sensitive to touch, making sure to handle you with care.
Though there were times when he let his anger get the best of him and was harsh with you, he always regretted it and made amends by doing whatever you wished since he made you feel horrible about yourself.
Recently, he noticed you becoming more distant and acting rudely towards others. He reached a breaking point and decided to give you space.
Leaving you alone in his room, he went to record a YouTube video with his brothers in the kitchen, hoping that some time by yourself would help you return to your usual self.
While you scrolled through your phone, you could faintly hear Matt and his brothers laughing, sparking your curiosity. However, you chose to block out the noise by putting on headphones, not wanting to engage with anyone at that moment for reasons unknown.
You were listening to your shuffle mix but it seemed like it passed quickly due to Matt entered the room which meant he finished recording. You didn't even bother to say hi, but he knew you noticed him.
He huffed and left you to it, grabbing his sweatpants to change. He didn't mind if you were looking or not, as you had seen him like this before.
You didn't dare glance at him, and Matt had a feeling you wouldn't. He stayed silent after changing, then left the room for the bathroom, probably to brush his teeth and take care of business as it was already 11 pm.
"Hey y/n, my brothers and I are going to watch a movie in the lounge... would you like to join?" he asked from the door frame, still brushing his teeth.
You continued scrolling on your phone but gave a thumbs down in response. He rolled his eyes, noticing you were still being dismissive.
After a minute or two of brushing his teeth, he finished and frowned at you, but you hadn't seen his reaction.
“Alright, I'm leaving you here," he wanted to stay with you because he cared about you, but he couldn't handle your attitude and guessed you didn't want to see him.
He decided to leave you be, closing the door behind him. As you took off your headphones, you could faintly hear his footsteps moving away.
You were aware that you were being difficult, but you couldn't help it. Feeling tired and unable to sleep, you found yourself giving everyone the same negative energy.
Before long, Matt returned unexpectedly. You met his gaze with surprise, but remained silent.
"Nick mentioned you might be on, so I brought some chocolate from the cupboard," he said, placing the chocolate next to you and handing you a hot water bottle.
Although you were confused because you weren't expecting him and you weren’t on your period, you appreciated the gesture. You smiled faintly, but remained silent.
"You know what? I want you to say thank you. I'm not going to treat you like a princess when you're behaving like a brat," he snapped, clearly upset by your actions.
You raised an eyebrow, meeting his intense blue eyes as he stood with his arms crossed firmly.
"Well then, thank you," you finally spoke, your voice tinged with sarcasm from lack of use.
He wasn't convinced by your words and struggled to remain calm. "Y/n, baby, if you give me that fucking attitude again, I won't hesitate to make you regret it."
You laughed, aware of your bratty behavior but unconcerned, which only seemed to infuriate Matt more. He watched as you put your headphones back on.
Suddenly, he slammed his bedroom door shut, startling you into thinking he had left. Instead, he approached you, swiftly removing your headphones and snatching your phone before tossing it away, careful not to damage it though.
"Matt, what-" you started to speak, but he hushed you, clearly angry. You weren't going to listen and were about to speak, which led him to harshly pull your hair to get your attention.
"Shut up. What you're going to do is suck my fucking cock until I tell you to stop. I don't care if your throat gets bruised, I'll appreciate the silence," he said in a forceful tone, making sure his brothers wouldn't hear. He tugged your hair before stepping back to expose himself by lowering his sweatpants.
Without saying a word, he intended for you to perform the act, but he sought permission through his eyes. If you truly didn't want to, he would stop. He understood that you were more reserved, so this forceful approach likely left you feeling vulnerable and speechless.
After locking eyes with you, he received a nod, confirming your consent. Without hesitation, he stroked himself to get harder than he guided himself into your mouth as you sat up slightly.
“Want me to stop, then say so." He didn't appreciate your behavior and wouldn't have spoken like this, but he had too since he felt a bit concerned because you weren't accustomed to roughness.
He proceeded to guide you to perform oral sex on him, occasionally causing you to gag.
"If you hadn't been acting like a bitch today, I would have given you whatever you desired. But you had to be a bad girl, didn't you?" he remarked, with a moan escaping him as he felt the warmth of your mouth around his shaft, making him bite his lip to stifle his own sounds of pleasure, mindful of his brothers in the house.
He encouraged you to increase the pace without hesitation, locking eyes with you as he twitched with pleasure, particularly around his erect member.
Sensing his impending climax, you intensified your efforts. You were surprised by how quickly he was reaching the peak, realizing that at this moment, he wasn't as gentle in bed as he had portrayed himself to be.
"If I wanted to, I could bruise your throat, but since I'm feeling generous, I won't. But damn, I really want to," Matt says in a low voice. He makes you take it all which made your eyes watering by the gag you did.
Your nose brushing against his skin as you comply, but soon he ejaculates without warning which makes tears roll down your cheek but not on purpose.
He makes you swallow it, unconcerned about his semen dripping down your chin. He bites his lip, trying not to moan too loudly because of his brothers.
Releasing your hair, he allows you to pull away after you've swallowed, your eyes meeting his. "Matt," you whisper, but he just smirks, wipes the cum off your chin, and makes you suck his thumb.
"You did a good job, darling," he winks before standing up, grabbing a tissue to clean himself before getting dressed.
Your eyes follow his movements as you feel wet, and you know he's aware of it. He chuckles as he heads towards the door.
"I don't reward naughty girls. Maybe if you change your attitude, you might get lucky," he says before closing the door behind him as he goes to join his brothers with the film.
"Matt?!" You called out, speaking quietly instead of shouting, hoping he would hear you. However, he ignored you and sat down with his brothers. You groaned softly and stayed silent.
You decided not to approach him since he was with his brothers. Instead, you lay on his bed, feeling a need for him but trying to ignore it.
You were aware that touching yourself would only intensify your desire for him, as your fingers were not like his. So, you simply chewed on your lips while returning to your phone.
You were still turned on, your lips in a slight pout after biting your lips. You could still feel how wide he was around your lips just moments ago.
You had texted him, but it was evident he was ignoring you. You glanced at your text before getting comfortable on his bed.
You let out a slight groan before sending Matt a few more texts, noticing that he was reading them now but not replying.
Hoping for a message from him, you were interrupted by the sound of the door closing as Matt entered.
"Can't you see I'm watching a movie with my brothers? Do you always have to bother me?" he said with a smile, briefly showing his tongue between his teeth.
You looked at Matt. "But Matt, I'm sorry... I apologize for my behavior," you said, prompting him to laugh at your words as he leaned against his bedroom door for a moment.
"You apologising because you feel it, or because I won't fuck you like I usually do?" he says bluntly, meeting your gaze.
Noticing your silence and the expression in your eyes, he rolls his eyes. "Looking at me like that won't make me feel guilty," even though he finds himself looking at you with desire.
You continue to keep your eyes on him, and he sighs before locking the door and sitting down next to you. "You’ve got on my nerves today, and now you're staring at me like a slut. Screw you," he whispers with a slight smile.
"I mean I am a slut for you," you tilt your head slightly, causing him to adjust his position as he feels his sweatpants getting tighter because of you.
"Don't, y/n," he warns, eyeing you up before closing his eyes briefly and then focusing on your face.
You chuckle softly before running your hand over his chest, slowly moving closer to him as you start to kiss his neck, prompting him to move his head to make it easier for you.
You playfully nibbled on his neck, your hands moving towards his shirt while you create hickeys that he loved, but always got angry about it when he had to film a YouTube video with his brothers, as his fans would find out.
You paused, leaving hickeys which will show later and removed his shirt. Though he tried to stay mad at you for your behavior earlier in the day but your current actions were making him forget all about it.
"Are you really doing this while my brothers are in the other room?" he muttered, knowing that you riding him would make it impossible for him to stay quiet.
"You weren't complaining when I was giving you a blowjob," you teased, kissing his lips to prevent him from responding.
He kissed you back and touched your chest, even though you were wearing a shirt. You focused on his pleasure, ignoring his touch.
He knew you were usually gentle in bed, but the way you kissed him made him want to have his dick in you right then and there. He realized that you were going to be rough for once but he wasn’t gonna allow you to fuck him when he can’t punish you.
You quickly pull away to remove your shirt while Matt deftly unclasps your bra with one hand, a move he has mastered through repeated practice with you.
"Impatient?" you tease, but he silences you with a hush. "I suggest you keep quiet, you're the one in the wrong," he retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes.
"If you try to boss me around, I might just leave you like this," you retort, playfully tapping his nose before removing his sweatpants, revealing his nakedness. You are surprised to find he isn't wearing any boxers.
As you gaze at his throbbing manhood, a smirk plays on your lips. Despite his hips twitching in anticipation, you press him down with your weight.
He grows impatient, enjoying your dominance but craving to be intimate with you. Catching your gaze, he swiftly pins you down and takes charge before you can react.
"Another time, darling," he whispers with a wink, planting a kiss on your neck and fondling your breasts. He then begins to tease your nipples as he harshly bites your neck and licks it.
He pressed his hand over your mouth, stifling your moans. "Hey, stay silent, got it?" he whispered sharply.
You nodded in agreement as he released your mouth. He ceased nibbling on your neck and instead traced his tongue down to your stomach.
Goosebumps erupted on your skin as you brushed his hair away from his eyes. He planted a kiss on your stomach before pulling back.
Meeting your gaze, he proceeded to remove your shorts and underwear simultaneously. His smirk grew as he observed your reaction before kissing the top of your intimate area and withdrawing.
"I'm not going to make it easy for you. I want your apology to be sincere," he declared, firmly grasping your chin to establish eye contact. Your heart raced.
"I'm sorry, I truly am," you whispered, causing him to briefly glance down at his arousal before returning his focus to you. "Say it again," he demanded.
Before you could comply, he forcefully entered you, prompting a loud moan and an arch of your back, followed swiftly by his hand covering your mouth.
He knew you wouldn't stay silent, so he quickly grabbed his shirt and stuffed it in your mouth. Your eyes widened as he spoke. "You need to stay quiet."
Without any warning, he deeply thrust inside you, causing you to moan, though it was muffled.
Although you weren't used to his roughness, you found yourself starting to enjoy it. You whimpered and grabbed his back, scratching it in response.
He groaned, tightly closing his eyes before easing up slightly. His thrusts became faster until he reached his limit of speed.
He continued grunting, keeping it quiet as he was skilled at being dominant. He held your legs to widen them further.
He felt you tighten around him, biting his lip to stifle a loud moan. His hands gravitated to your breasts once more, his thumb stimulating your nipples more intensely.
Your breasts bounced with each thrust, the desire evident in your eyes signaling your impending climax. He intensified his thrusts, pushing a few more times before you reached the peak of pleasure.
Your loud moans were muffled by his shirt as he felt you envelop his manhood, prompting him to grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he continued thrusting until he reached his own climax.
Moaning with his eyes rolling back, both bodies glistened with sweat. He quickly pulled away, watching as his essence leaked out of you.
He gazed at your womanhood as you both caught your breath. Eventually, he turned to you. "Have you learned your lesson?" he inquired, to which you nodded.
He lay down beside you, picking up his phone to text his brothers that he wouldn't be joining them for the movie until he had cleaned both of you up.
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verstappen-cult · 8 months ago
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Having an argument with Max, sounds exhausting. Especially when both of you are stubborn, but guess what? He'd willingly beg for forgiveness if you are still upset with him and avoiding him as a result of the argument
“I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, shaking your head and taking a step back. 
That is what finally makes Max stop dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open with whatever he was going to say next. 
You’re tired. You woke up less than an hour ago and the first thing you and Max did was argue. And you really didn’t want to start the day this way, but neither of you backed away. Things escalated quickly and you just can’t do it anymore. 
“What are you talking about?” He sounds desperate, his chest heaving. Max clenches his fists by his side, like he wants to reach out. 
You turn your head away, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna go see my mother. We’ll talk later.” 
Max feels paralyzed, he can’t seem to do anything but watch you leave. 
*
It’s past eight when you get home. 
The first thing you notice is that the house is lit only by candles. A lot of candles throughout the house. 
Max is nowhere to be seen, Jimmy and Sassy are the ones greeting you by passing between your legs. You bend over to pat their heads and give them a few ear scratches. 
The more you walk into the house, the more your heart breaks. There on the table is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers along with a small card with the word ‘sorry’ written in Max’s handwriting waiting for you. The table is also set with the chinaware you only use on special occasions, and a few more candles. 
When you turn around you see Max curled up on the sofa, your favorite weighted blanket —the one you use when you’re feeling down and Max is away for work— around his shoulders. He looks so cozy, you want to curl up next to him, but you are still a little hurt and angry from the argument you two had in the morning. You’re thinking about what you both said to each other when Max stirs, eyes trying to adjust to seeing in the dim light. 
“Hey,” You say as a greeting, trying not to scare him. 
Max turns around immediately, surprise crossing his features. “You’re home.”
“Yes? Sorry I didn’t say anything but mom wanted me to help her with gardening.” You shrug, leaving your bag and keys on the table next to the couch. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway. Max exhales deeply, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders. 
“What?”
“I’m so sorry.” He blurts out, shoulders slumped. Max shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s in so much pain he can barely have them open. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should’ve listened to you—I’m really sorry. I don’t want us to argue like that again, I felt horrible because I love you and I promised myself I would never do something like this.” You let him talk, to spill everything he has inside of him. “After you left—I wanted to go after you but I knew you needed time. But it made me remember how my dad used to talk to my mom, how they would yell at each other while Vic and I hid in our rooms.” You are already moving towards him, even before you hear how his voice breaks. 
You sit by his side, leaving some space between you two, hands itching to reach out and touch him, to draw him closer to you and hold him. 
“I don’t want to be like him.”
“You’re nothing like him,” You move closer, taking his hands with yours, thumb caressing the back of them. “Don’t you ever dare to go there, okay? You will never be like him, Max. Do you understand?” 
But he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything. 
“Max, this is not the first and it’s definitely not going to be the last argument we have. But if we talk about it, if we give ourselves some time to think things through like we did today—this doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that you are turning into your dad.” You cup his cheek with one of your hands, caressing his cheekbone as you look into his stormy blue eyes. 
“I’m so sorry,” He says again, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smile softly at him when he begs for your forgiveness again. 
“Can you forgive me too?” 
“Darling, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
“Well, you’re wrong there.” You sniff, already feeling the tears wanting to stream down your face. “We were both wrong, don’t take all the blame.” Max opens his mouth to refute, but you shut him up with a kiss. It’s chaste, full of promises, and leaves you with blood pounding in your ears. 
“Do you forgive me?”
Max nods, gaze fixed on your lips. “Yes,” He directs his gaze back to your eyes, and you can see so much regret in them. “Do you forgive me?” 
“I don’t know,” You tease him by pretending to think about it. “it depends on what you made for dinner.”
A grin spreads across his face and he’s standing up in a second, tugging on your sleeve. “It’s definitely gonna make you forgive me.” He says, pulling the chair out for you to sit. “And if this doesn’t work, I have many other ways to make you forgive me.”
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roosterforme · 3 months ago
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Mr. Right Now Part 8 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: The hours with Jake are ticking down, and you agree with every suggestion he makes so you can justify staying a little longer. When you ask for something that goes against one of his lessons from the weekend, you can tell how badly he wants to be the exception to the rule.
Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, adult language, p in v intercourse, 18+
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
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Jake could feel your warm hand low on his abs as your lips skimmed along his neck and his stubbled cheek. Soft skin was all he knew as his fingers trailed down the length of your side. Eyes still closed, he treated himself to a handful of your hip and rear end, giving a little squeeze as he whispered, "Darlin'."
"Jake," you sighed next to his ear, and he finally opened his eyes. For once, being awake was just as good as dreaming. "How'd you know it was me?"
He took your chin in his hand where you were laying halfway on top of him, and he stroked your lips with his thumb as he asked, "Who else would have spent the night with me?" Your subtle little shrug and sweet face made his heart clench. Besides the fact that he generally never let anyone share his bed for more than an hour or two, he already knew the way your body felt in his hands. Every soft curve. Every dip. Every bit of your silky skin. He knew it, and he couldn't get enough of it.
"I don't know," you replied softly before he kissed you.
He wanted to tell you that you were the only one who had worked her way into his heart since he'd been living in San Diego. He wanted to tell you to just leave your fake ID here, because you wouldn't be needing it any longer. If there was something you wanted from a man, he would happily give it to you from now on. You could come back next weekend and do all of this over again with him. 
"Just you," he promised, breaking the kiss as your fingernails gently scraped along his skin and through his trimmed pubic hair. "Jesus," he groaned as you cupped his balls beneath the bedding. You made him cum so many times yesterday, he was almost surprised to find you were getting him hard again now as the early morning sunlight filtered in through the window.
Your expression was almost smug as you leaned in close enough so your lips barely grazed his. He could only hear his beating heart, the ocean in the distance and your soft voice saying, "Tell me what you want."
You had your hand gripping his cock tight as he rolled you onto your back. He thrust into your palm as he grunted, "Did you forget your lessons? That's not how this works."
As soon as he ran two fingers gently through your pussy, your hold on him loosened, and he slid down your body until his mouth was on your belly. You tried to keep your legs closed as you whispered, "But we fucked last night before bed. What if I... taste weird? Like a condom?"
Jake let his cheek rest on your hip as he looked up at your face. "Will you let me be the judge of things down here?"
You giggled as he traced your belly button with his thumb. "I guess. It is kind of your specialty." Slowly you spread your legs for him, and he continued on to where he wanted to be. He knew you loved this, and he was good at it. And you still tasted fucking sweet.
He settled in with his hands on the backs of your thighs, spreading you open with his thumbs. He hummed, kissing your clit as you gasped and squirmed. "No issues here, Darlin'," he promised. "Should I keep going?"
"Yes," you whined, letting your heels dig into his back while you tugged on his hair. 
"Thought so," he whispered with a smug grin. But there was no rush. You could pull his hair and bruise his back to your heart's content, but he was going to make this last for you. It was Sunday, and he'd be driving you back to your dorm later. He didn't know when he'd get this opportunity again. If at all.
"Jake," you moaned, hips rolling gently against his mouth as he sucked on you. "You're so good."
Every time you told him he was doing a good job, he just wanted to keep going. If he could make you come and keep you asking for more in bed, maybe he could ask you for more out of it.
He lapped at your pussy, wanting to taste you everywhere as you started to squeeze your thighs around him. Your body and your tells were already familiar to him. "Not yet," he crooned, licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit. "Be patient."
"Feels too good," you whispered, voice ragged with desire. You couldn't stop squirming, and Jake couldn't stop smiling. With each roll of your hips, he ground his cock down against the bed, and when you came on his tongue, he needed to get off.
"Fuck me," you commanded, eyes wild as Jake rubbed your pretty pussy with his fingers, making sure your orgasm was drawn out long and loud.
He licked the taste of you from his lips and grunted, "Yeah? You want me to?"
"Fuck me, Jake!"
He was on his feet in a flash, nearly tripping on the bathroom tile to get to the box of condoms. It was the last one, and he was already tearing open the wrapper and rolling it on as he made his way back to you. Your pussy was wet, glistening in the sunlight as you lay there shamelessly. Needy. Bedding a mess. He was a mess.
As he took your hand, he leaned in close and kissed you, letting you taste yourself. "How about we try a new position?" he asked, and your eyes grew wider as you nodded. He heaped up the pillows against his headboard, sat against them and rubbed his thigh. "Take me for a ride, Darlin'."
Your lips were hovering over his as you whispered, "I'm not sure if I'm going to like it this way." Then your hand met his cock, practically sending Jake over the edge as you straddled him. He was pressed to your entrance, and then you were sinking down around him as you moaned. It was long and sweet sounding, and it turned into the sentence, "Never mind. I think I'm going to love this."
He was going to as well. His hands ended up on your tits as you arched your back, taking him to the hilt. "Lesson number ten," he grunted, and you met his eyes as you wiggled on his cock. "Experimenting with positions and techniques is usually always a good idea."
You nodded as you bounced up and down on him like you'd done this a thousand times. "It never hurts to try. Got it," you said with a grin as you bit your lip.
Jake stroked your nipple and said, "As long as you're with someone you trust."
"Right," you whispered as his hands slid down to your hips to guide your movements. "Oh, god!"
--------------------------------
Jake knew what your body wanted and needed even before you did. Straddling him on his bed with your back arched meant his cock was hitting places inside you that you didn't even know existed. And now his big hands were helping you along as he stroked that perfect spot that left you breathless with your heart pounding. He eased you up and then guided you back down as you met his green eyes.
You trusted him. You knew he'd get you off, and you knew he wouldn't hurt you. One big hand ended up on your belly as he thrust up to meet you, and that little grin that you liked was back on his lips. "Jake," you gasped, grinding down on him until he was nodding. "Does this feel as good for you as it does for me?"
"Better," he answered immediately. "God, I can guarantee it's better. You're so tight, Darlin'. It's a fucking miracle I didn't cum yet."
He kept trying to say it wasn't about the guy, but it was. It was about him, too. You liked watching him come apart for you. Flushed cheeks and wide pupils and deep, guttural grunts. Everytime he fell apart, your heart soared.
"Shit. Shit," he panted, head tipped back, veins in his neck straining. "Damn it, I'm close."
You leaned in and kissed his ear, letting him guide your hips in the exact tempo he wanted, and you were surprised by how much he slowed you down. "Good," you whispered as your fingers threaded through his soft hair. "I want you to feel good."
His name was on your lips as your clit rubbed his rough pubic hair, and you gave him an involuntary little squeeze, surprising yourself by how close you were now.
"Oh, fuck," he grunted. "You're close, too."
Once again, he could tell exactly what was going on, and he rubbed himself against you. He wasn't going to let himself finish with you on the cusp, and you wanted to thank him, but you couldn't speak. Your head tipped back as you held onto him, and after a few more beats, your pleasure crashed against you like a wave. You were moaning his name and fucking him, and in your mind, you looked even better than a pornstar.
"God damn it," he growled, palming your breasts and making you feel so good as he came, too. His mouth was open, and his cock was twitching inside you as he held you in place. "God damn it." 
You did this to him. 
His lips crashed against yours, hands all over your body. "Did that feel good?" you asked between kisses.
"You always feel good," he replied, rolling you carefully onto your back. "Always." His body was above yours, expression open as he said, "Tell me what we're doing next. Breakfast? Another bath? Or you want me to drive you home?"
You smiled, not quite ready to leave yet. "First a bath. You can have a breakfast beer."
Jake chuckled and kissed your neck. "That does sound good. Go get the water ready." When he helped you climb out of bed, he gave you a playful swat on your rear end before vanishing out into the hallway as he removed the condom. You found the empty box and a few wrappers on the bathroom floor, tossing them into the trash as the tub filled with steamy water. You had successfully finished off the condoms, and now there were none on the shelf as you grabbed two washcloths. 
You were smiling and brushing your teeth as Jake strolled in with a bottle of Sam Adams and a wine glass of ice water. Your heart skipped a beat as he set them both down on the edge of the tub before turning off the water and brushing his teeth. You dipped down into the water as he watched you in the mirror.
"Remember, we stay in until it's cold," he told you after he spit out his toothpaste.
"Weirdo," you muttered, and a second later, he was climbing in, splashing water onto the floor as you squealed with laughter. 
---------------------------
"What's for breakfast today?" you asked, arms around Jake's neck.
He took a sip of his beer and rubbed your thigh beneath the water. "I don't know... if I make eggs again, you'll just complain about how I eat mine sunny side up. Tell me it's wrong just like my pizzas."
"Everything you like to eat is a red flag."
Jake smirked and licked his lips before kissing you softly. "I like to eat your pussy."
You started laughing, and you buried your face against his neck. "That's a green flag."
"Thought so."
He took another long sip of beer, swallowing just as you kissed him again. "You taste good," you whispered after licking his lips.
"You're too young to have beer." His statement was a reminder of how he was in a different place in life than you were, but he chose to ignore the repercussions of what that could mean in a few hours.
"I've had it before. It tastes better on a kiss than from a keg."
It was a statement like that that made him take another sip before setting the bottle down. You were authentic and engaging, and he'd been entranced by you since he picked your fake ID up off the floor. He cupped your face in his hands, wishing the water would never get cold.
Your eyes fluttered closed, and your lips parted in a soft smile as he leaned in to kiss you. Every way you responded to him was exciting. Right now your fingers were wet and running up his neck and into his hair as you gave him the sweetest kisses. 
You were too good for anyone else. You were too good for him, but at least he could admit it. And now he was reminded of why it was a bad idea to bring you here in the first place. He should have never talked himself into believing he should have you. He was an idiot for thinking it would be easy to give you up.
"What if we make pancakes?" you asked, reaching for your ice water after you broke the kiss.
Jake just nodded, keeping his hands on your body and letting you wash his hair. The first time you shivered in the cooling water, he tried to get you to stay put, but the second time, you started to drain the tub. "Let's go eat," you told him easily, and he helped you out of the tub and into a fluffy towel.
"Pick out something to wear," he whispered before kissing your ear. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."
Jake pulled on some clean underwear, vanishing down the hallway, hoping for a few seconds without you to clear his mind, but it didn't work. Little reminders of you were all over the place. Your mini skirt was on the couch. Pizza box on the dining room table. Empty wine glasses in his sink.
"Fuck," he muttered, turning on the coffee maker as he ran his fingers through his damp hair. "You fucked up."
"What did you fuck up?" you asked, and when he spun around, you were standing there in his TOP GUN tee shirt, biting your lip. 
He cleared his throat. "I forgot to turn the coffee pot on before we got in the bath," he replied lamely.
You just shrugged before bending to get eggs and butter from the refrigerator, and Jake was treated to the perfect view of your ass and pussy as he tried to figure out how to get two mugs down from the cabinet without dropping them. Alarm bells were going off in his head as his heart and body responded to you the same way they had been for two days. He knew he wasn't going to survive this weekend, and now he was paying for it as he just kept getting himself in deeper.
----------------------------
It was almost noon by the time your belly was full of pancakes, and even though Jake's kitchen was a mess, he coaxed you over to the couch when you tried to clean up. He put a movie on as you stretched out, but neither of you were paying attention to it. He tasted like coffee and maple syrup, and all you wanted to do was keep kissing him.
When he pulled away, you pulled him back as he laughed. "What?" you whispered. "You taste good."
His hand was drifting up under the shirt you were wearing as he leaned on his elbow on the cushion next to your head. "You're so soft," he murmured, and you leaned in to kiss him again. "And sweet."
You made out with him, fingers in his hair as he traced shapes along your side. He was handsome and funny, and you smiled against his lips when he called you a smartass. This weekend had been so much more than you anticipated, and you didn't want to return to your dorm and your roommate and your classes. You wanted to belong here. But he was older than you. He had tag chasers and a bar tab at the Hard Deck. He had a decade-long career in the Navy.
Jake's arm wrapped around you in that way you were used to, and he curled up behind you on the couch as another movie automatically started on his TV. You couldn't believe you'd been kissing him for that long, but now you were yawning as he settled in against your back. When you shivered, he pulled the throw blanket down over both of you, and you closed your eyes.
"You wore me out," you sighed. "Your stamina is commendable, Jake."
His lips brushed the shell of your ear as his thumb ran along your belly button. "Let's take a nap, Darlin'." But you were already drifting off as he said, "Wearing you out is a pleasure."
You weren't sure how long you dozed, but his soft breathing made you feel safe, even when you woke again. It was intimate. None of this was anything you were used to, but it seemed like things you would do with your boyfriend, if you had one. 
An image of Cooper flashed into your mind. Two short days ago, he was all you could think about. Your only concern had been whether or not you would be good enough for him. But maybe that wasn't the key here after all.
Jake's fingers flexed on your belly. "Let me kiss you," he mumbled, and you carefully turned so you were facing him like before. This man could have anything he wanted. He never made you feel like you had to perform a certain way for him to want to kiss or touch you. He never made you feel inadequate or stupid. You wished he would tell you what he wanted. You hoped it was more of you.
"Oh," you whispered as your hand eased down along his body to his semi hard length. You cupped him through his underwear and marveled over the shade of pink rising in his cheeks. His lips were parted, and he made an indecent sound when you gave him a little squeeze. You could not believe he was ready to go again.
"Don't look so surprised," he rasped, green eyes half lidded. "You're kissing me and touching me. Of course I'm going to get hard. Lesson eleven: you could turn any man on. Don't second guess your appeal."
You kept your eyes on his face as you slowly tucked your hand inside his underwear. He was thick and velvety soft, and your mouth was watering as your touch made him impossibly harder. He gasped softly and started to nip at your lips, letting you know you were in control again as his fingers stayed soft on your hip. And you could feel yourself getting wet from that simple touch and the way he was looking at you.
"Will you fuck me again?" you asked, letting your lips brush his. You knew you had to leave soon, and you were starting to think that this constant ache for him would never go away. But instead of doing the smart thing here, you wrapped your leg around his hip when he gave you a filthy kiss.
You pulled his underwear down a little bit, and Jake was rubbing himself against your wet pussy. "I would love to be intimate with you again," he replied, and all of those words in that order made you shiver in anticipation as the blanket ended up on the floor. "But we used up all the condoms from my bathroom. Let's get one from your purse."
He sat up on the couch with you on his lap, his cock tapping your opening in excitement, driving you absolutely wild. 
"I want to feel you without a condom."
Jake hissed as he took a deep breath. "Oh fuck." His head tipped back as he swallowed hard, grinding out his words through gritted teeth. "Darlin', you should always use a condom. Hell, I always use one. Don't let guys cut corners, remember?"
You kissed his Adam's apple and said, "You're not other guys. I trust you."
He met your eyes as you squirmed a bit on his lap, so aroused you couldn't sit still. His tip was resting against your clit as he panted and cupped your face with both hands. "God damn it," he grunted. "Listen. I'm not some asshole college student. I get tested regularly, okay?"  When you nodded fervently, he added, "Nobody else. You understand? Nobody else gets to have you without one."
His big hand slid down to your neck as you whimpered, "Just you." Then he was hauling you off to his bedroom.
-------------------------------
Oh boy. Oh boy. Possessive Jake, hear our prayers before it's too late. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
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ceilidho · 1 month ago
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I’ve been watching Spartacus with my dad and I must share with you the vision I had.
Gladiator 141 and the sweet little thing they got as a reward after a fight well fought.
this is very old:
Sometimes he spends as much as an hour staring at you through the bars of your cell. 
You haven’t yet worked up the nerve to say something to him. Not while he still wears the silver-plated galea that obscures most of his face. You can still see thin lips through the middle slit of his helmet, where the cheek plates don’t meet and the thin strip running down the bridge of his nose gives way to his philtrum, and the barest slivers of dark eyes. 
Apart from his helmet, he wears little else—sometimes the customary leather pteruge around his waist or a simple tunic belted at the waist. Nothing that would hinder his movements. It keeps the bulk of him on display. A prized fighter then, you surmise, as if the helmet weren’t enough to make that known. 
He still gleams bronze from his fights under the sun. Perhaps he’s counted at least a full hand’s worth this week alone. He comes to you sometimes after those very fights, still dripping sweat and prowling the length of your cell like one of the lions kept beneath the arena. You never know what to say to him then. There’s little you can do apart from curl up into yourself in the far corner of this cell you’ve come to know as a temporary home and eye him warily. 
It’s hard to reckon with the size of him. That’s what keeps you wary, watchful of him when he comes to keep you company for reasons unbeknownst to you. He hasn’t made them known yet, in any case. 
There isn’t an augur to warn you the day he chooses to speak. 
“Where'd they take you from, pretty bird?”
You flinch at the sound of his voice. It comes from the pure depths of him, Tartarus deep. You think it would take nine days for it to reach you, like a bronze anvil falling alongside it. In the days that he’s spent at your side, haunting the length of your cell like a sentry bound to his post, you’ve never once heard so much as a whisper.
His words take a moment to register. Across from you, he sits back on his haunches, thick thighs bunched up under the fan of his pteruge. It’s hard to tell how long he’s been there—the hallway outside your cell is relatively dark, the only windows being on the leftmost side of the building, near the door where he must have quietly slipped in. 
“East of here,” you answer hesitantly.
He hums, nods his head. Ruminates on your words. 
In truth, you can only guess—the village where you grew up, where you suckled at your mother’s teat and played with the other children in the glen surrounded by mountains jutting up from the earth and ochre yellow and green wildgrass, the fog sometimes sitting so low in the valley that you could lose yourself in it, is far from here. At least a month’s walk, perhaps more (you lost time along the way). Your feet are still blistered from the march back to Rome, legs still covered in sores and bruises; even now your cell is a poor comfort, the dirt floors harsh on your knees and shins, abrasive to the partially healed skin of your feet. 
You’ve never been very worldly though, never known more than the four walls around your bed. Perhaps the walk wasn’t nearly as long, as treacherous; maybe you came from the west instead, or the south. You can only guess. 
“I came from the north,” he says, breaking the silence again. That startles you somehow. The thought of him under the thumb of another feels inexplicably gut-wrenching; if a man with a virile, sweat-laden chest like his, arms corded with muscle that yours will never see in a thousand years, has been yoked to Rome’s chariot, what hope do you have? 
You wonder for a moment if he’ll tell you more, but he falls silent after that simple revelation. The weight of his gaze still pins you in place.
“…You’re a prisoner then?” you ask, considering briefly whether to say like I, before discarding the thought. Like I, like me. Are you too in a cage, like me?
It’s difficult to suppress the urge to ask him more, but you do. It does you no good to endear yourself to men that move and stare like beasts. There’s something malignant in him, you think, a rot burrowed in deep. You can feel it stir in you too when your eyes dip too low, halted by the muscles of his thighs and the thick slabs packing his arms. You’ve seen beasts copulate; you imagine he’d be much the same. 
He tilts his head, considering your words. Wolf-like, and you’ve seen wolves before. Though the ever-present helmet obstructs most of his face, the sharpness of his eyes pierces through. “They don’t put me in a cage anymore. What would you call that?”
Your chest collapses under his words. Hopes dashed. Does he go in the cage of his own accord then? Does he lock the door himself, deliver the key to the guard standing watch? You think people taken from their homes should see their plight in each other, but the gladiator before you doesn’t look at you like the two of you share a fate. 
“A slave?” you postulate, perhaps too boldly. Worry crawls inside the walls of your belly when his lips flatten, almost imperceptibly.
“Do I look like a slave to you?” he asks, and you can hear it this time. A gentle warning. A rebuke. A question that tells you all that you need to know about this man and how he sees the two of you. 
You remain silent, cowed under his stare and the tone of his voice. Perhaps he’s right, in a way; he’s not the one in the cage. He seems free to come and go as he pleases, his movements unrestricted. Unlike your own. You’ve hardly left this cell once since a faction of the legionaries left you at the gates of the city to be handled by those in charge, watching slave after slave made empticii, helpless, until finally you were dragged to the stand for viewing. 
You flinch when he grabs one of the bars of your cell, thick fingers coiling around the metal and overlapping easily. 
“What did they take you for, pretty bird?” His fingers tighten around the bar, knuckles whitening. “Every day I fight and yet they never offer you as a prize.”
The new scars on his body make sense then, fresh lacerations across his arms and legs that have multiplied by the days since he started visiting you. Why he gleams with fresh sweat every day, correlating with the fights you hear in the arena above you, the cacophonous chants and stamping feet. You can imagine him in front of a crowd frothing at the mouth for blood and gore. 
He comes stained in it sometimes. You hold your breath until he leaves on those days, reminded too much of your village in the aftermath of the plundering. 
“I don’t know,” you whisper, tucking your legs into your chest and trying to get as close to the wall behind you as possible. 
It’s the truth. No one tells you anything. No one told you what would happen when they ransacked your village and burnt it to ash, the bodies of everyone you’ve ever loved still burning char black in the tall grass, whittled down by the flames. No one told you what would happen after they dragged you back a thousand passus to a city scorched in white marble and stone and immaculate gold. They dragged you here and shut the door. 
He seems frustrated at your words, lips thinning like he has to hold back his rage.
“I’ll slaughter a hundred more if that’s your price,” he says, his helmet knocking into the bars with a rough clang and making you jump when he leans in. His chest lifts with his quickened breaths, working himself up at the thought of more bloodshed. “Then give you their hearts. No other man will take you. I’ll rend their limbs if another man tries. Make you taste their blood on my fingers and lap it up when I split you on my—”
Your heel skitters across the ground, digging a small groove into the dirt and scattering small rocks across the cell. “I don’t k-know what they intend—”
You stare at him when he rises back up to his feet, words dying on your tongue. Standing, he towers over you, shoulders rolling back to puff out his chest. 
“You wait, little bird. Flutter your wings. Soon you’ll see the sun.”
You can only imagine what he means. The thought of sunlight on your face fills you with dread for the first time in your life. 
He leaves without another word, heavy footsteps carrying him to the door until you hear him pry it open, sunlight streaming in for a second before it slams shut. The silence in the absence of him feels monstrous, gargantuan. 
All you can do is let out a shuddering breath.
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landograndprix · 7 months ago
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xiii
part twelve - book 2
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ life is going from bad to worse but maybe a bit of alone time is exactly what you need.
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ last part before we continue on desire book 2! Very annoyed because the site I used to edit the text messages is gone and now I have to change the whole aesthetic of the fic. Tag list is closed.
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y/nusername posted to their story
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landonorris replied to your story
landonorris
pick up your phone
where are you?
babe text me back pls
text me pls
baby I'm sorry
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y/nusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, manon_roux and 548,534 others
y/nusername week 14. 🇧🇪
view all 1,114 comments
norrizz absolutely foul that they set you up with Danica all the time 😂
↳ bott_ass is like they want a cat fight on live television 💀
norris4 did you and lando break up?
milliexoxo didn't invite me for some waffles? Rude.
↳ oscarpastry pretty sure you were in the wrong garage 😉
carlandooo millie and Logan confirmed? 👀
oscarpastry she was just in williams garage, doesn't have to mean anything ofcourse but they've been seen together a couple times 👀
bobnorris did you break up with lando???
joris__trouche douce petite fille avec sa nouvelle amie 🦁 (sweet baby girl with her new friend)
↳ leclerc_16 it's been a while since I saw uncle joris in the comments 😭
landoooo why are y'all asking her if her and lando broke up?!
↳ norry4 just a stupid rumor going around again..
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 746,523
y/nusername rien que nous deux 🌞 (just the two of us)
view all 1,109 comments
norrizz oh..okay :(
hannahh going on a holiday all by myself with a toddler sounds like a nightmare to me, you go mom!
norry4 who remembers millie getting excited about her holiday to Greece with the 'norris bunch' 😔
↳ lan4lan stop she was so excited when y/n told her 😭
yukisan when was this?
norry4 one of mils her vlogs
hamilt44n fastest kid in the pool 🏎 💨
bott_ass put me in your suitcase next time please 😭
landoscar wonder why they broke up..
↳ clsixteen nothing had been confirmed yet, jeez y'all need to calm down
julieeeexo hope you guys enjoy your little girl vacation <3
landonorizzzz guys lando is still liking her posts, it's probably nothing (I'm delulu 😔)
↳ charliecharlie charles is also still in her likes and guess what they are? Not together anymore :(
landonorizzzz girl shut up 😭
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y/nusername posted to their story
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manon_roux replied to your story
manon_roux
Hi there, it's been a while and I completely understand if you don't want to speak to me and feel free to ignore this message but I've been seeing all the things they've written about you and everything that's happened and I just need to know if you're doing alright, making sure zoë is doing good
I know we don't see eye to eye anymore but you were my best friend since we were little kids so I'll always think about you, I hope you understand that
I'd apologise a thousand times for what I said and did but I also understand you're done withe me
I'm asking for you to give me your whole story but a thumbs up to let me know you're okay would ease my mind
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @geehsf @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
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sanemistar · 1 month ago
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⋅˚₊‧ ᡣ𐭩 it'll be okay, my love
𝜗𝜚 kento x fem!reader, hurt to comfort, reader gets called (dear, love, darling), dedicated to: @iid-smile (idk who’s ur fav jjk character so i guessed you might like nanami ! anyways, i hope you feel better soon pookie i love u <33) 𝜗𝜚 back: jjk m.list
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kento comes back home from work and the first thing he sees is your crying face as you sob on the couch in the living room, holding onto one of your husband's sweaters. his first reaction is to immediately run over to you and wrap you in a tight hug.
you have been feeling down lately and you’ve been crying a lot, but you’ve been trying hiding your sadness away from him because you don't want to worry him. you know kento has a lot to worry about on his plate, so the last thing you want is to add up to his burden.
however, unknowingly to you, kento has heard your small cries all along, and it has pained him every time. but whenever he asks you if you're okay you'd always reply that you're fine and there's nothing for him to worry about with a little smile.
"life's too hard, ken. i keep saying that i have to be strong, but i just can't do it." you've tried your best, you really have. but at that moment you've finally reached your breaking point, and you can no longer bottle your feelings up.
your tears that have been kept inside for too long begin to heavily fall down your red cheeks like a rainfall as you rest your head on kento's broad, firm chest. your arms wrapped around his torso for dear life. he pats your head with one hand, as his other one rubs your back up and down in a soothing motion, you begin to calm down as the crying slowly stops. he breaks the hug and cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caress your hot cheeks as he wipes away the remaining tears.
"you've been holding on for too long now, have you, dear?" kento whispers softly against your ears. his tone is so gentle and comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold day. the look in his eyes is as soft as a feather.
“but i’m here for you, and always will be. you’re okay now, it'll be okay, my love.” kento reassures your as he tenderly kisses your temple, and you finally smile genuinely again for the first time in a while.
“i love you, so so much, kento.” you hum softly as you confess your love to your husband. he leans in, closing the gap between the two of you. his lips find home onto yours as they collide in a deep kiss that is so tender, so intimate and so affectionate.
“i love you too, my one and only, my darling.”
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𝜗𝜚 taglist: @yueliie @spkyssn @ayrastv @sylusdoll
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hhughes · 28 days ago
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៹࣪ ៸៸ ALL OF THE SMALL THINGS THAT YOU DO . . . ꒱꒱
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ᥫ 𝘩𝑒𝘢𝑑𝘤𝑎𝘯𝑜𝘯𝑠 small things they do that make you feel loved . . .
𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. quinn hughes ; jack hughes ; luke hughes ; nico hischier. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. domesticity. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. as always reblogs and feedback is appreciated and I hope you liked it <3
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യ QUINN HUGHES
boyfriend quinn who stays over at your place more often than not. it’s easier for you to get ready for work since all your stuff is there, so whenever quinn gets a few days off he’ll always spend them at your place.
he started getting up earlier , sneaking out of bed before your alarm even goes off and for a while you were just wondering where he went before you caught him one day.
looking outside your kitchen window you saw quinn brushing the last bit of snow off your windshield and shovel it away from your car.
“ hey angel , you’re awake earlier than usual, ” quinn greets, shrugging off his jacket and taking off his boots as you start the coffee pot
“ yeah I was investigating where my boyfriend has been sneaking off to these last few weeks, “ you say, as shuffles his way over to you and wraps his arms around your waist; burrowing his cold nose into your neck
“ just getting last night’s snow out of your way, “ he mumbles against your skin, pressing kisses against your neck
“ you didn’t have to do that baby, but thank you. you’re spoiling me, i’m gonna get used to it and then miss it when you’re not here, “ you tease, and he uses his hands on your hips to spin you around, pushing you back against the counter
“ I was actually hoping you’d let me hire someone to do it for you, “ quinn suggests with a hopeful tone, knowing exactly how you were gonna respond to this.
“ quinn, don’t start, ” you absolutely hated when he spent unnecessary money on you.
“ I know I know, but it’s more for my peace of mind than it is for yours really. I hate the idea of you having to go out there the morning after a storm and move all that snow by yourself. not even just the snow, what about all the freezing rain we get? what if you slip and fall? hit your head? break your wrist, again? “ he emphasizes the last part and your send him a little glare in return. you slipped and broke your wrist one time and now the guy couldn’t let it go.
" everyone can slip and fall quinn, " you argue and he brings his hands up to cup your jaw on either side, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks gently
" yeah , honey , but I don't care and worry about everyone, I care and worry about you. “ he retorts and you almost cave seeing the pure adoration he has for you reflected in those green eyes
“ I’ve lived in Vancouver my entire life. the weather is nothing new to me, I can handle it. but i’m guessing if I don’t agree to this you’re gonna keep sneaking out and doing it for me anyway?” you ask and release a little sigh when he nods in confirmation
the last thing you wanted to do was make your boyfriend get up at the crack of dawn, especially on days like today, his off days, just to clean the snow off your driveway and you knew he would if you didn’t agree to this.
“fine, but not all the time. only when we get really heavy snow okay? and no more sneaking out of bed. I miss my personal little furnace when you’re not there,” you pout and he smiles before pecking your lips softly, his hands moving to your lower back
“ that’s all i’m good for huh? shovelling your snow and warming you up? ” quinn teases, hands moving down even further and squeezing your butt as your hands make their way to his hair
“ you’re pretty good at washing my hair too. wanna join me in the shower? “ you mumble against quinn’s lips and he keeps the kiss going for a few seconds before pulling away and responding
“ you know I can never say no to that, “
യ NICO HISCHIER
bf!nico who shows you love by packing you lunch in the morning cause you’re always running late and you never grab something before you go.
he noticed it one night when the two of you were doing your nightly routine that consisted of him laying with his head on your stomach, your hands going through his hair as whatever movie you decided on was playing on the screen.
“sorry” you say sheepishly, your hand freezing in his hair when your stomach suddenly growled loudly and he glances up at you with an amused little grin
“you hungry baby?” he asks, pressing a few soft kisses to your stomach
“yeah , I haven’t eaten all day.” you accidentally let the words slip, and immediately wince after, knowing how your mother-hen boyfriend was going to react.
“you haven’t eaten all day?” nico asks exasperated , sitting up as he looks at you with a frown between his eyes, one of his hands finding its way to your stomach and rubbing soft circles as if he could sooth the hunger away
" that's not healthy schatz, " your boyfriend chastised softly, when you answer his question with a nod.
" I know, I was just running late this morning so I didn't have time to pack lunch. and I had a busy day so I couldn't run out and get something, but I'm gonna eat the entire day's worth of pasta when our dinner gets here. promise, " you respond, moving closer and kissing that frown away
" you gotta take better care of my girl, ya hear me? " nico says, pulling you onto his lap and pressing a kiss to your temple
" aye aye captain, " you answer teasingly and a giggle escapes as gently nips at your shoulder in retaliation.
but ever since then nico wakes up a little earlier and packs you lunch. of course he writes you little notes and tucks them into the bag.
and whenever he's on roadies he'll always make sure to doordash it to you along with some flowers and a note that tells you how much he misses you <3
യ JACK HUGHES
bf!jack who really does all the little things that many people may overlook but since you know from experience what it’s like to be in relationships with people who don’t even do the little things, you appreciate it so much.
he always goes out of his way to clean up the apartment your share, so that it doesn’t feel like you have to take care of him 24/7. in fact it’s the other way around. he’s the one who will load and unload the dishwasher. do your laundry when he’s doing his. clean up your car when he’s cleaning up his.
and yes the occasional mix up of white clothing and coloured clothing does happen, which results in a few your white tops, being a variety of different colours. mix ups that jack repeatedly apologized for and promised to replace when luke pointed it out to him one day.
“ you should’ve said something earlier, “ jack pouts when he examines the seven tops laying on the bed that you got out when he asked you to show him all the shirts he’s ruined
“ you were doing something nice, I didn’t wanna make you feel bad by pointing it out, besides you didn’t ruin them, just gave them a little make over, ” you tease and laugh when jack glares at you as his cheeks turn red
“ m’sorry baby. we can go shopping this weekend I’ll buy you new ones yeah? ” he says, pressing a sloppy kiss to jaw as he collects your tops off the bed and puts them on the chair in the corner. a place he’ll see them and remember to check the brands later.
speaking of shopping, jack loves getting you things. it was something you had to get used to at the start of your relationship as he’d often come home from roadies with a little gift for you.
it’s just sweet knowing that he’s thinking of you even when he’s far away and he’s focused on something else.
is 100% the type of boyfriend to send you money and with a text that reads “go get yourself something nice, you deserve it x ”
he makes sure to leave you a pair of his sweats and a hoodie whenever he goes on the road because he knows how much it helps you when he’s gone.
even buys you the same cologne he uses so you can spray it on the hoodie and it’ll smell like him even if he’s not here.
can’t convince me he doesn’t do a ton of these cute little things for his girl
യ LUKE HUGHES
boyfriend luke hughes who is a bit of a nerd and collects a bunch of random trinkets and collectables.
and once he starts dating you, he just starts collecting a bunch of random things that you might need at any given moment.
need a hair tie? luke has one around his wrist, waiting with anticipation for your hair to start annoying you so he can offer it to you.
getting a random tension headache? luke has some painkillers in the glove compartment. heat pack for your cramps are also in there. along with an eyelash curler.
he even buys mini versions of your essentials (lip gloss, hand sanitizer, etc) and keeps them with him in case you forget yours.
luke’s ass jean pocket? your miniature handbag. he literally has anything and everything you’d need in one of those back pockets. a bobby pin cause a strand of hair has been annoying you? just stick your hand in one of those back pockets and grab one.
and he loves sitting with you at your vanity while you do your makeup. and over time he learns your routine and starts handing you your products🥺
“ going a bit fancier today bub, can you hand me my bronzer? “ you mumble while applying your concealer as luke holds out your mascara
“ um — “ he mutters, retracting his hand and spins your little product cabinet around, looking for a little bottle with the word “bronzer” on it
“ it’s this one, “ you say, reaching and grabbing it yourself and luke’s cheeks redden a bit in response
“ sorry, ” he says sheepishly and you giggle as you lean over to press a kiss against his cheek
“ don’t worry about it baby, “
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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year ago
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A Malfoy And A Potter
masterlist
pairing: draco malfoy x female potter reader
warnings: fluff, kissing
summary: you and draco have been dating in secret but the secret comes out when you two attend the yule ball together
a/n: i am so sorry i have not posted in forever, i've just been busy with school and work, and trying to catch up on my reading goal for the year! it's almost summer break so i should be posting more again :)
song: sleigh ride - the ronettes
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You were currently pushed up against the wall by your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy.
His lips roam the smooth skin of your jaw and throat. Peppering you with loving kisses while you play with his hair.
Both of you are breathing heavy and he brings his lips back up to your mouth as he kisses you. You let out a satisfied hum and put your hands on his chest.
You gently push him back a bit and he looks at you. "What's wrong, love?"
"Someone is going to see us," you whisper.
"Hm, well that sucks for them," he grins and kisses you again.
You push him and laugh, "I guess you're right," you smile.
"They're going to see us when we go to the ball tomorrow night, you do know that, don't you?"
"Well of course, I know that!"
Draco pulls you into his chest and rests his head on yours, "If Potter has a problem with you and me tomorrow, I'll be more than happy to practice some hexes on him," he glides his hand along your waist.
"There will be no practicing hexes, Draco," you pick up his hand and kiss it before walking out of his embrace.
"Boring!"
"Oh, don't be such a baby," you squeeze his cheeks. "Anyway, I'll be off to dinner now, you should come too," you start walking to the great hall and he follows you like a lost puppy.
You go in and sit with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "Hello," you smile at them.
"Hi, Y/n," Hermione smiles.
"Hey, mate," Ron says.
"Greetings," Harry salutes you. You grin and salute him back.
"So, do you all have your dates?" You ask them. You already knew about Hermione's date, of course, you two are like sisters.
"Er- not exactly," Harry replies scratching the back of his neck.
"Same here," Ron sighs and drops his head onto the table. You cover your mouth to stop your laugh when he groans in pain.
"Welp, you two got under a day left," you clasp your hands.
"What about you?" Ron asks, "I've been wondering if you finally picked someone out of the two hundred people who asked you," he says with amusement.
"Oh don't be silly, Ron, it was not two hundred people!"
"Sorry- two hundred and seven," he corrects.
You roll your eyes, but it was true. You four have literally been tallying how many people have asked you, boys and girls. "Well, yes, I have a date."
"Really? Who?" Hermione asks.
"I suppose you'll have to see tomorrow," you exclaim with a smile.
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You were in your room getting ready for the ball, slightly panicking. Hermione was already dressed and now helping you. "Y/n, you don't need to be nervous," she says as she helps with your hair.
"I know but-"
"No buts. You are perfect and you dance amazingly! Your date is very lucky," she smiles.
You relax a bit and look at her through the mirror, "Hermione, have I mentioned how much I love you?"
"Yes, yes you have," she takes her wand to finish your hair. You already did your makeup with some of her assistance. She claps her hands in excitement, "I believe it's time for the dress!"
You pick up the beautiful dark green gown. You had bought Draco a matching tie when you picked the dress out.
You put the dress on and flatten out some wrinkles.
"You look stunning!" Hermione squeals.
"You mean that?"
"Of course! Now, let's head to the ball!" Hermione links her arm with yours. You two make your way to the entrance when you start to panic again. For someone as well known and popular as you, you get social anxiety often.
"You go in first, I'm scared," you bite your lip nervously.
She sighs but nods. She gives you a quick smile with a thumbs up before she heads down the stairs and goes to her date, Viktor Krum. You peak through the curtain to watch. Ron's jaw drops when he looks at her and her date. He looks angry and you could almost laugh.
After pacing for two minutes you decided to just go down. You pull the curtain and try to sneak in without being noticed. Unfortunately, things don't always go the way you want.
There were an absurd amount of gasps as you made your way down the stairs, praying to Merlin that you didn't trip in your heels. The gaping gazes of the people there making you even more nervous.
You see Draco talking with his best friend, Blaise Zabini. Draco listens to his friend talk as he waits for you to arrive. He notices his friends eyes widened as his mouth opens a bit.
He furrows his brows and looks to see everyone staring at something. He looks and his eyes land on you. He feels all the air sucked out of him. He admires you and then snaps out of his trance and makes his way over you, who was smiling at him.
He holds out his hand and you place yours in his. He leans down to your ear and whispers, "I hope you know how ethereal you look, sweetheart," he pulls back and you blush. Another round of gasps fill the room and you hear a, "WHAT?!" You look over and see Harry rushing over to you two, "I- what in Merlin's name are you doing with Malfoy?!"
"Um, he's my date," you say.
Harry's jaw drops as his head goes back between the two of you. You laugh and shake your head.
Draco pulls on your hand, "I would appreciate a dance with my girlfriend while you continue gaping," he places his hand on your lower back and walks you to where people started to dance.
"GIRLFRIEND??!!"
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tinyluvs · 1 year ago
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Spencer coming back from a case and all you want to do is smooch him but he keeps talking?
omg yes please 🥹🥹 tysm for the rq my love 🫶🏻
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you hear him before you see him, greeting his neighbour in the hallway outside of his apartment, keys jangling quietly in his hand and before you can stop yourself, you're jumping over the back of his couch
"spence!" you gasp, full of excitement when the door swings open and he wanders in. you bound towards him, barely giving him a chance to drop his bag before you're jumping into his arms
he wraps an arm around you, the other smoothing over the underneath of your thigh, "hi honey," he sighs, happily, his eyes fluttering shut while you pepper kisses over his cheeks
"i've missed you,' you whisper as he kicks the door shut behind him. you hold his face in your hands, thumbs ghosting over his cheeks, the rest of your fingers tangling gently in his hair
he hums, in agreement but doesn't reply, letting you pull him in slowly, kissing him properly, his bottom lip pressing in between yours. gently he sets you down, his hands squeezing at your hips
pulling away, you immediately grab at his hand, dragging him towards the couch. he sits down first, like always, in the corner of the couch before he's tugging on your hand, pulling you down on top of him so you're sat in his lap
"you okay?" you ask, watching him roll his head back to lean against the back of the couch cushion. your fingers mess with the end of his tie, a habit you'd picked up since dating him
"much better now i'm with you," he smiles softly his fingers tracing down the dip in your spine. he looks so good, hair slightly messy, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, all you can do is stare at him
both of you sit in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, hands ghosting over any part of the others body that they come across. you can't take it anymore, he looks too good
you lean forwards, kissing him again though he doesn't expect it, a small gasp being muffled by your mouth on his. your hands slide up his body, resting on either side of his neck, holding him there.
spencer chuckles and in turn breaks the kiss when you pull away to frown at him, "you have missed me," he smiles wider, soft brown eyes gazing up at you like you're everything to him
"i have, very much" you pout slightly before smiling. you try to kiss him again but he moves, arm keeping you steady while he sits up properly.
"hey, want to hear what emily and morgan were talking about earlier?" he asks but clearly doesn't care for a reply, "so, get this"
it's cruel, the way you tune him out. you feel bad for it but your brain simply isn't working. you return to kissing at his cheek, slow spaced out kisses that have him smiling against you, you can't see it but you feel it under your lips
"and then," you cut him off with a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth before your moving across to his other cheek, "i think jj was there too?" he thinks
you groan, head lolling back, "spence, angel," you huff and he looks at you throughly confused, "shush a minute, please" you beg, not bothering to see him react before you're crowding into his space again
he kisses you back this time, fingers digging into your waist, pulling you towards him gently. you hum happily against him, letting your tongue swipe over his bottom lip
spencer had never really kissed a girl until he met you, not that you would've known with the way he's always kissed you like it's a skill he's had forever. you're practically melting into him, all of your weight pressed against his front
your teeth graze over his lip ever so slightly before you're pulling away, kissing over his jaw while you catch your breath. he tilts his head back, again, allowing you better access while you pull at his tie
"oh! guess what i saw while we were on the jet" he says, like you're not starting to nip at his neck
"spencer," you whine, pulling away from him again, he stares at you wide eyes, "you know i love you, right?" you ask, he nods, "then pease do not take this the wrong way,"
"okay?"
"if you do not shut up and just let me make out with you for a while," you say almost breathlessly, "i may explode"
his eyes widen further, "oh," he says simply and you roll your eyes, gripping at the collar of his shirt. in one swift movement you go from sitting up, in his lap, to him laying under you, "oh"
"oh indeed, now shush"
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thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send prompts to my ask box!
❥ spencer reid masterlist !!
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