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#mind remembered the most hugs for her
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Anyone care for some assorted Young Justice hugs?
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sysig · 2 years
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They’re too cute, I can’t stop (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Jocasta#Questionably SFW#I mean it's technically nudity but it's possibly the most censored and chaste nudity considering the intent lol#Flirting time! Reverse fluster! Heck yeah#Jocasta being bold in flirting is so cute ah - it's also cute to see her fumble when she's literally so pretty gosh heck but like#I think it's the success of the flirt hitting its mark that just delights me haha#It's not as evident here since there's just the one but I was drawing all kisses all the time for a bit there and they got swept up in it#I remember immediately after I was like ''Wait. How tall are they in comparison to each other'' lol#Let's just say Jocasta is intentionally leaning on her let's go with that I totally didn't accidentally make her shorter pfft#That was actually really fun to draw hehe ♪ Full body kiss! Big hug! Very cute#And leaves Sarah completely unable to function haha#Hey the nudity-but-actually-it's-fine! Lol#Actually now that I think of it I made the same joke with Pop and Soda.... Let's call it a reference and leave it at that lol#Ah frick /and/ Soda's a mermaid! It's really the same joke! Dang lol#And finally capping off with some alternate eye colours to represent hypnosis#Blue is usually pretty good for ''Not in one's right mind'' colour I think - although that might just be the TGWDLM talking lol#And I mean Syreen are mostly blue! Could totally be a Syreen-affected colour!#Although when I think about it green is more common for Under Another's Influence isn't it? :0 Or is that just the Evil X talking?? Lol#Syreen do also have green glowing eyes specifically so there's that - it would make sense#I'll have to do some comparisons#Usually I'm not really much into hypnosis or mind control or the like but on top of enjoying these two I was watching some MEPs and well#There was a femslash set to Hypnotic and the rest is history lol#The entire time I was just like ''Wow these are great ideas! I should do something with them! Hang on'' lol
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galwithalibrarycard · 2 years
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it’s 2022 and i am extremely sad about the 1918 murder of anastasia nikolaevna romanova grand duchess of imperial russia and her family :(
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tojikai · 8 months
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Sundered 2: EMBERS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion
word count: 5.4k
a/n: it's not sad.
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Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
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Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 
They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 
Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?
Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?
You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.
Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 
Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.
Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 
She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.
You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 
He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 
You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 
“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 
“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.
Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…
You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.
“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.
“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.
“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 
You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.
You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.
You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 
Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.
“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.
“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.
“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.
You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 
You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 
Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 
—--------------------------------
“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.
He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.
“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 
Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?
He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.
“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.
—-------------------------------------
After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.
“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.
There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.
Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 
You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.
“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 
Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.
“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?
Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.
“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.
“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 
“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.
“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.
You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 
“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 
“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.
You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 
You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 
Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 
You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.
He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.
His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.
Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 
It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.
It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.
Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.
The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 
It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 
But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?
“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 
Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.
At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 
“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.
“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.
“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.
“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.
“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.
“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 
Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.
Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.
—------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.
He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.
He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.
Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?
Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.
So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 
“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.
“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 
Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.
“Think you know who I am now?” 
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a/n: just send an ask if u want to be removed <;33
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tender-rosiey · 7 months
Text
girl dad — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: kinda inspired by the most adorable girl ever named saylor <3
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sometimes, you feel like your husband was born to be a girl dad.
he always indulges her, and he even says that she is the second person he can’t say no to, the first one being you. it also helps that your husband is a man so confident in his masculinity that he doesn’t mind using a princess voice to play with his girl.
he doesn’t mind her trying a makeup kit on his face or getting him a skirt so he can be the ultimate princess to attend the tea parties.
of course, your daughter loves him to death.
you remember that one time satoru came home later than he had told her, and she sat down at the front door until he came. she also was so close to tearing up, so you pulled her into your embrace, and the both of you patiently waited for him.
when he came in, the big baby was about to tear up himself and pulled the both of you into one bone-crushing hug. it was a sweet moment that never leaves your mind.
now, though, her loving him so much doesn’t stop her from being a sometimes—unintentionally—savage 5 year old.
you remember that one time when you all went to play some soccer together.
your girl was so excited; she practically jumped out of her seat the moment you arrived. you were still setting the seating area up when your husband struck up a conversation with your dear daughter.
he was helping her put on her knee pads as he smiled, “you nervous, pretty?”
she quirked an eyebrow and quickly shook her head, “nope!”
“really?” he hummed then pouted, then started securing her shoelaces, “well, I am nervous.”
“why?”
he looked her in the eyes with a chuckle, “I don’t want to play bad in front of you and mommy.”
you roll your eyes and ruffle his hair, making him grin up at you, and the both of you await your daughter’s response.
she looked at him then nonchalantly said, “well, guess what? I saw you play yesterday and you played bad,” then she looked at you with a grimace, “really bad.”
satoru gasped, and looked at her incredulously, “what?! I did not!”
another thing is that she picks up anything and everything, and very quickly too. you have yet to decide whether it’s a good or bad thing. you do know that it provides a lot of comedy in this household though.
for example, one time they were playing nail salon together, and your daughter was the customer this time.
you were also another customer, but your very dedicated husband already finished your nails and gave you one hell of a message so you were resting on the side.
of course, he gets his payment later.
anyway, your husband, the worldwide famous nail tech, started working on her tiny hands. he is very concentrated even when he talks with her, “so you have a husband?”
your daughter nods, and he continues his inquiry, “is he nice?”
she pauses for a moment, before gasping with a deep frown, “he’s mean!”
he blinks before grinning, “ooo, spill the tea,” he picks another color and continues painting her nails. you glance at her nails, and—surprisingly—he is doing a wonderful job. you do remember that he told you he can be good at anything he tries.
guess it wasn’t just some talk to woo you.
she stares at the void, “I will spill tea on him.”
“woah,” satoru’s head snaps towards you and he looks concerned and kind of proud? he is probably happy she can stand up for herself. he hums, “what did he do?”
she shakes her with disappointment then sighs, “doesn’t help with the house.”
“jeez, what a bad husband.”
“mhm! bad!”
as much as she is a daddy’s girl, however, she is also a mommy’s girl.
you had went out with your friends for a couple of hours, leaving satoru and d/n to fend for themselves. you came back to the house looking as clean as ever.
you breathed a sigh of relief as you looked at your husband and daughter standing side to side.
satoru pressed a soft kiss to your cheek then lightly nudged your daughter, whispering in her ear, “tell mommy that I’ve been good.”
she nods lightly then looks at you, “I’ve been good, mommy!” she beams.
he pouts, “nooo! tell mommy that daddy has been good.”
with a giggle, she hugs your leg and presses a kiss to your thigh—the only place she can reach—, “I’ve been so good!”
he plops on the ground with a whine, “d/n!”
she frowns then looks him up and down. she pulls gently on your shirt and then looks up at you, “daddy’s been bad.”
“d/n!”
what you don’t know is that they’re going to do their best to not show you d/n’s room that is full of sparkles, glitter, and way too many plushies and outfits thrown around. the devils do team up on you every now and then.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
5K notes · View notes
beenbaanbuun · 4 months
Text
best girl - yunho & mingi
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words - 8.8k
genre - smut/fluff/angst if you squint
warnings - sub!reader, dom!yunho, dom!switch!mingi, chubby!reader, insecure!reader, mentions of mxm, oral (f!recieving), brief anal play, no protection, fingering, big dick!yunho, brief exhibitionism, making out, spanking, biting, light degradation (if you squint), praise, pet names (pipsqueek, sugarplum, darling, baby, puppy, our girl, best girl, pretty girl, a lot of variations on the word girl) cum eating, finger sucking (mxm), aftercare, discussions of feelings, everyone is an idiot, mingi and yunho are hopelessly in love, reader is too
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You rolled your eyes and leaned over until your head was pressed against the damp wood of the table in the dark corner of the bar. They told you they were going to get drinks, Mingi pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he promised they’d be back in a minute. You checked your phone; it had been 15.
As you sat and watched them fawn over the girl in between them, you couldn’t help but feel resentment bubbling up inside of you. Resentment towards yourself for even agreeing to the night out, even though you desperately needed it. Resentment towards the gorgeous woman who was taking up all of your friends’ attention, disliking her despite her clearly deserving their attention more than you. Most importantly, though, resentment towards your friends; the two men who had looked at you with pity in their eyes when you showed up at their doorstep with tears in your eyes after yet another tinder date never showed up. It was their idea to come out and let your hair down a little and yet it was also them who had abandoned you to flirt with someone who was the antithesis of you.
Your eyes flashed over her body, causing your unwarranted hatred to flare up even more. Her green dress wasn’t too dissimilar to yours, except the way it clung to her body was tasteful and didn’t make her look the same way you felt you did. Her hair was scraped back into a high pony so elegantly that you were positive that she’d spent hours placing each individual hair in its exact position, whereas yours lay messily upon your shoulders. Her toned thighs were crossed, letting her dress ride up just the right amount so that she showed just enough for it it still be classed as ‘lady-like’, whatever the fuck that meant. You glanced down at your own thighs that had flattened against the leather of the booth you’d secluded yourself in. You poked one of them, making the flesh jiggle a little. You bet her legs didn’t jiggle like that…
You couldn’t even rip your eyes away from your legs as Yunho's comforting voice rang through your brain. “Looking at it like that won’t change anything,” he’d told you when he caught yourself staring at your body in his bedroom mirror one time, “in fact, nothing is going to change until you learn to love yourself for who you are. i’ve told you that a million times, pipsqueek, yet you never listen.” You remembered the way he wrapped his arms around you in a warm back hug before telling you just how much he loved how ‘soft’ you were.
He can’t have loved it that much if the girl he was chasing now looked like you but in a smaller size. You bet she wasn’t ‘soft’.
“Someone’s deep in thought,” a familiar deep voice said, stopping your spiral from going any further. You never took your eyes away from your thighs as he unceremoniously sat down on the plush seat beside you. You felt your stomach churn as the motion made the skin on your thighs ripple. “Something interesting down there?” He added as he leaned and followed your gaze.
The only thing that made you feel more sick than you seeing your thighs right now was Mingi seeing them. the way the skin was pulled taught, stretched and contorted as it tried to hold all of your flesh inside of it. Usually you wouldn’t mind but tonight?
Tonight you couldn’t bear it.
“Go back to your little girlfriend over there,” you muttered as you pulled your dress further down your legs to hide your shame, “I'm fine on my own.”
Mingi made a sound of disagreement as he placed a large hand over your own, stopping you from gripping at your hemline like a Victorian woman trying to keep her decency. He leaned in close, dropping his head onto your shoulder like he so often had in the past. most of the time it was when he needed comfort, but right now you suspected that he knew it was the opposite.
“And leave you here to have a meltdown on your own?” he shook his head, his short, spiked-up hair tickling your neck, “no shot, sugarplum. I'm staying here until you tell me exactly why you were trying to make your thighs explode with your mind.
The joke would’ve usually gotten a laugh out of you, but your silence was just further confirmation that you were completely out of it. Mingi didn’t like that.
“Besides, she’s cool but she’s nothing compared to you, huh?” he poked your side with the hand he didn’t have laced with your own. Again, it was an action that should’ve had you giggling and playfully pushing him away, but all he was met with was yet another worrying silence.
Fuck, Mingi was bad at stuff like this. Always had been, really. Of course he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t secretly messaging Yunho behind your back for advice. The older of the two always knew what to say, whereas all Mingi ever had to offer was a pat on the head and a quiet mutter of ‘shh, it’ll be okay’. It was good enough to calm you down for a while, but Yunho was the one with the magic words that could pull you out of whatever headspace you’d found yourself in.
In fact, it was Yunho that had noticed you from the other side of the bar. The dim lights concealed your facial expression, but he didn’t need to see your face to know that you weren’t okay. Your sunken shoulders paired with your head that was hanging low did a good enough job of letting him know you needed them. Clearly, you were zoned out, which was never good, and Yunho couldn’t help but feel his heart stop for half a second when he saw you move your hand to harshly poke at something under the table.
Poor Mingi was mid-conversation with Jemma when Yunho thwacked his shoulder and gestured over to you with his head. The blonde’s words were cut short when he shifted his gaze over to where Yunho was looking, a worried pout forming on his plush lips. his eyes flickered between you and Yunho in a silent conversation, quietly deciding on the best course of action. Only seconds passed before Mingi was nodding and placing his glass down on the bar. He shot a quick wink at Jemma before taking a few steps towards you.
“See you another time,” he shouted over the music, “I think we left our girl on her own for too long.” He gestured at you before giving Jemma a look that was filled with nothing but sympathy for you. The woman simply nodded, sharing a pretty smile with him.
“Go make her feel loved, pretty boy,” she giggled, “you really shouldn’t be leaving such a gorgeous girl unattended, y’know!”
Mingi just laughed before spinning round and going to sit by your side.
Yunho didn’t keep the conversation with Jemma going, which she didn’t seem to mind. She watched him with a soft smile for a few seconds, taking note of the worry etched onto his expression as he stared you down from his seat. His jaw was tightly clenched, the muscles flexing every so often as he studied what was happening in front of him. When Jemma said goodbye, he barely even responded, simply nodding and wishing her a good night before returning full focus back to you.
You didn’t realise Yunho had seen the way you tried to pull your skirt down, only for Mingi to stop you, or the way you flinched when Mingi tried to cheer you up by tickling your side. It didn’t even cross your mind that he might have noticed the way you looked like you were about to throw up when Mingi threw his gangly arm around your middle to tug you closer to him. If you did, perhaps you would’ve made more of an effort to hide how you were feeling. Maybe if you did, there wouldn’t currently be a soft hand grazing against your chin, finally lifting your gaze up from where it rested upon your thighs.
It guided your eyes up until they landed on Yunho's face, jaw set in stone and eyes equal parts worried and upset. his fluffy brown hair rested gently upon his forehead, which you could tell was creased with concern despite it being hidden. You gulped as he held your gaze for what felt like hours, although it was probably only seconds, his hand never leaving your chin once.
“I think you’re ready to go,” he said firmly. there was no room to argue, although Yunho knew you too well to assume that you wouldn’t at least try and get a word in.
“What about your lady friend?” your voice was barely audible above the bass that was buzzing through the air, “aren’t you taking her home?”
Yunho shook his head.
“We’re taking you home, instead.”
Gentle patterns were traced along your jawline by his thumb, the appendage dancing along your soft skin in an attempt to distract your mind from whatever it was distracted by. It only partially worked. The other half of your brain was desperate to remind you that you did not, in fact, have a jawline to trace. Your face was just as ‘soft’ as the rest of you.
“You know what I mean, Yunho,” you mutter, finally breaking eye contact with him, eyes moving down to his chest. It was as low as they could go with his fingers still wrapped around your jaw. He simply squeezed tighter, giving your face a quick jolt, and your eyes were back on his.
“So do you, pipsqueek,” he leaned in close, not even breaking eye contact with you as he gestured for Mingi to stand up and grab your things. Your breath hitched as he shifted his hand slightly to let his finger play with your bottom lip. “Don’t think I don't know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. Clearly, someone hasn’t been listening to me all those times I told you you were beautiful.” He sighed, as though he was disappointed. “Guess we'll just have to prove it to you, hm?”
There was no reply from you, not that there needed to be. There really was nothing to be said this time. No room to bite back or cause trouble. Yunho clearly understood that you had nothing more to say, a smirk resting on his lips.
“Come on then, my gorgeous girl,” he whispered as he guided you up and out of the seat using nothing more than the grip he had on your face, “let me and Mingi take care of you, huh? Let us show you just how pretty we think you are. Because we really, really do… don’t we Mingi?”
“Of course, we do,” Mingi’s deep voice responded, his warm hand landing on the small of your back, “I don’t know about Yunho, but I think you’re the prettiest creature to walk this earth…”
Yunho finally let go of your jaw, letting you lift your hand to massage the sore muscles. Your delicate fingers prodded at your plush cheeks, which felt a thousand degrees hotter than what should’ve been normal, as you watched Yunho pull out his phone to order an Uber to their apartment. Somewhere that you frequented regularly, and yet for the first time like this.
That's when it really sunk in that tonight you weren’t just their best friend, but their girl of choice. Of course, you’d heard many tales about the girls they’d take back to their apartment and share between them. They’d carefully select them before buttering them up with their silver tongues until finally, they’d take her back to the ‘chad pad’, as Mingi had cheesily nicknamed it, and giving her the night of her life. Time after time you'd been told about their escapades, and time after time you wished someone would take care of you in a similar way.
Scenes played over in the back of your mind. Yunho teasing Mingi for his ‘love of being suffocated’, although you couldn’t quite work out what that meant. Mingi giggling as he jokingly scolded Yunho for being ‘too bossy’. You gulped nervously at the prospect.
But the longer you pondered your situation, the more you couldn’t help but feel bad for the other girl. They were clearly getting somewhere with her, yet they threw it all away in seconds, and for what? To comfort you? With Yunho’s eyes scanning you like you were a priceless diamond, and Mingi’s hand rubbing circles on your back, only to dip down and cop a feel every few seconds, you’d be stupid to think that was the only thing on their mind. Maybe they lost their chance with the pretty one when they left her so they could look after you. Maybe they just realised they were missing out so they were settling for second best.
Yeah, that must be it.
Second best…
“You’re thinking,” Mingi grumbled in your ear before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, “stop it.”
“I can't not think, mingi,” you muttered back. Although you were trying desperately to look anywhere but them, there was no way you could miss the way Yunho cocked a brow at you.
“Then think about all the things we’re going to make you feel when we get back to ours,” he said, bringing up a finger to tap at your forehead, “rather than thinking about whatever useless thing it is that has your face all screwed up like that.”
“It's not useless.”
“It must be if it has you as tense as this, sugarplum,” Mingi pressed a quick kiss to your head, as his hand gave a firm squeeze to your ass. It was a warning. “I know yunho has talked to you about not listening to your brain, so you’d better switch it off, okay? Whatever you’re telling yourself is wrong.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but a simple look from Yunho, and a light swat to the ass from Mingi shut you up.
“Good girl,” Yunho smiled at you. It was too sweet, too Yunho, for you to do anything but preen. Even without the tension that was rising between you, you’d always loved to be praised by him. “Uber's almost here, Mingi. Stop groping our girl before you can’t stop. I know how you get and I don't want to make yet another uber driver uncomfortable.”
You giggled at that, getting another soft smile from Yunho in return. It was nice. Familiar. It reminded you that even behind the bedroom eyes, your best friend was still there to keep you safe and happy. And although Mingi was behind you, barely managing to peel himself away from you, you knew he was the same old mingi too. The way that he smiled against your neck, just like he did when you were protecting him from your other friend, Wooyoung’s, bullying told you that much.
“You try tearing yourself away from our girl, Yunho,” Mingi gave your ass another hard squeeze before letting his hand come down on it harshly. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as he began to massage it again. “Its so fucking difficult, dude.” Mingu pressed his face into your neck and inhaled your scent with a groan, “you smell like home, babe,” he kissed the soft skin, “fucking hell, i can’t believe we’ve waited this long.”
A big hand carded through your hair as Yunho moved it to give Mingi better access to your neck. His fingers gently massaged your scalp as Mingi practically made out with your neck. The slurping sounds he was making just below your ear were obscene, but it was offset by the familiarly loving look that Yunho was giving you.
“I know, mingi,” he said, never once breaking eye contact with you, “Too long if you ask me. Our girl doesn’t realise just how beautiful we think she is, huh? Well just you wait, darling. The moment we step through our front door, we’re going to make sure you never forget again.”
And with that, he tugged you away from Mingi, who let out the most pathetic whine you think you’d ever heard, and guided you to the exit where the car was waiting. You checked behind you to see if Mingi was following. He winked at you in return.
Once you’d reached the car, Yunho held the door open for you. “Ladies first,” he gestured for you to get in, to which you rolled your eyes before sliding onto the leather seats. You were about to scoot all the way across, expecting one of them to get in the front like usual, but Yunho just shook his head, “in the middle, darling. Leave some space for the rest of us, huh?”
He slid in himself, closing his door as the one to the other side of you opened. Mingi dropped into the car and shut the door himself, quickly making himself comfortable with a hand high up your thigh. Yunho gave a disapproving tut to him, before doing the exact same himself.
The way the warmth of their hands spread over your soft skin made your heart skip a beat. The gentle kneading of Mingi’s palm compared to the sturdy grasp of Yunho’s was enough to send your brain into a dizzy haze, only made worse when Mingi began to pull your thigh closer to his.
The cold aircon blasting out of the central fan hit the wet patch on your panties directly, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath. Yunho chuckled to the right of you, copying mingi and making your legs spread even wider. Your dress was pushed up by your thighs, now resting at the point where the fleshy limbs joined your hips. You prayed to anything that would listen that the driver wouldn’t look back and see you in this state; sat between your two best friends, legs spread wide open, white underwear almost made see through with your sticky desire. The thought alone had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“You okay, baby?” Mingi asked, shifting his hand so that his pinky was just barely brushing against your panties, “you don’t look so good.”
God you wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face.
“Yeah, pipsqueek,” Yunho added as he slipped your panties to the side, dipping the tip of his finger into the gooey mess that was currently your pussy. There was a moan on the tip of your tongue as his finger penetrated your hole, but he quickly removed it and let your panties fall back into place, “Wait, I think you have something on your lip. Hold on a second~”
Before you could register his words, a wet finger was tracing your bottom lip, smearing your own juices across your mouth.
“That's funny, it looks like cream,” Mingi snickered, “lick it up, baby.”
You did as he said, pushing your tongue out and collecting your wetness from your bottom lip. You shuddered at the filth of it all.
“Does it taste sweet, darling?” Yunho fluttered his eyelashes, trying his hardest to resemble the picture of innocence.
“I bet it does,” Mingi replied, “bet it tastes so fucking delicious, huh? Wish i could just stick my face right in there, baby, slurp up all that cream that’s just… spilling out.”
You were thankful when the Uber swiftly came to a stop at the side of the road, practically bending over yunho yourself to grab at the handle. He chuckled, petting your hair with his still soiled fingers as he thanked the driver. Mingi said much of the same as he got out his own side and made his way round to yours. He watched with intense eyes as you stumbled onto the pavement, gripping onto Yunho for balance.
Your face made you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Yunho couldn’t help but lean down to steal a kiss. You were almost taken aback for a second, remembering how Yunho and Mingi would express that they didn’t like to kiss the women that they took home. “Too romantic,” Mingi had explained one time, “they come to us for a good time, not for the whole ‘love’ experience, y’know?” At the time you’d understood, just as you thought you’d understood what tonight was. As your best friend licked into your mouth, you realised that maybe you were mistaken.
You pushed at his chest, and he stopped within an instant. There were words on your tongue, but when you lay eyes on him, they disappeared. Flushed cheeks, plump lips and eyes that looked like they were 90% pupil. That's all it took for you to leap right in with both feet. Fuck it, you decided as you wrapped your arms around his neck, if love is what they want, then love is what they’d get. It's not like you hadn’t been shamefully dreaming about it for years. kissing them, holding them, fucking them.
Of course there was the part of your brain that told you to stop before you went head first into something you weren’t quite sure you understood.
You laughed against Yunho's mouth as you told the voice to shut up.
“What?” He mumbled, barely pulling away before going back in for more. It was a couple more seconds before you pulled away yourself.
“I just can’t believe I'm listening to mingi for once,” you replied. There was a scoff from behind you as the short haired main placed himself at your rear once more. A hot tongue licked a stripe up your neck.
“What's that supposed to mean, brat?” mingi nipped at your earlobe.
You gasped into the kiss, briefly pulling away once more.
“M’turning my brain off,” you giggle into the cold night air, “whatever happens, happens, right?”
You delved right back into the kiss, opening your mouth to allow Yunho's prying tongue acces. He explored your cavern, licking at everything he could reach before letting his tongue clash with yours. Your wet muscles tangled with one another, dancing an intricate jive between your lips, all whilst Mingi’s was tracing patterns upon your collarbones.
“But I know what’s going to happen, sugarplum,” he whispered against your skin, “we’re going to take you upstairs,” he bit into your shoulder making you squeal into the kiss you were still sharing with Yunho, “we’re going to make you feel every bit as beautiful as we know you are,” he sucked at the very same bit of skin his teeth had just abused, releasing it a second later with a ‘pop’, “and then, my pretty little thing, we’re going to make you our girl… not that you haven’t always been,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the same spot.
“And to think, we’ve been fucking all these other girls knowing that nothing would be as good as you, baby. They were all pretty, of course, but none of them even got close to you. None of them made me as hard as you do, or made my heart beat as quickly,” another kiss, “and Yunho would never even dream of kissing anyone that isn’t you, baby. You're special to us, hm? One of a kind,” he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged, pulling you away from the kiss. A string of spit connected your mouth with Yunho’s, neither of you making a move to break it.
“Do you feel the same?” Yunho panted out, “Do you want us just as much as we want you, darling? Do you want to be our special girl, huh? Ours to have and hold and love as we please?” you nodded as well as you could with mingi gripping your hair. He gripped it tighter for a moment or two, stilling your movements.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes,” you whimpered.
“Good,” Mingi let go and used the same hand to go fishing in the pocket of his trousers. You heard the jingling of keys as he pulled them out and passed them over to Yunho with a smile. “You've had your fun, dude,” he smirked as he placed his hand on your ass once again, “I want to play.”
“So immature,” Yunho rolled his eyes before leading the two of you inside the building and to the elevator, “seriously, I can't make out with my darling for five minutes without you getting jealous and needing to feel her up,” the elevator dinged and the doors opened. the three of you stepped inside. “you know her ass will still be there if you let go of it for two seconds, right?”
Mingi squeezed it in his huge palm.
“I don't want to let go long enough to find out,” he smacked it softly, grunting as your flesh jiggled against his already throbbing dick. “Just feels like it belongs in my hands, y’know? Like my own personal stress ball.”
Yunho sighed as the elevator stopped. He was the first out, going immediately to unlock the door and let the two of you tumble inside. Mingi guided you straight to his bedroom, Yunho following moments after, getting there just in time to see Mingi fall into the bed and position himself with his head resting on his pillow.
He looked like a god lying there in that stupid fucking compression shirt that made you stare, and a pair of beige cargo pants that did nothing to disguise the sheer size of his bulge. The cocky smirk he wore as he watched you scan him up and down was almost insufferably hot. You wanted him to make you his in every way that mattered. You wanted him to throw you around and take you however he wanted. Judging by Yunho's penchant for bossing you around, though, you guessed that was more his thing in the bedroom. Mingi just seemed to want one thing and one thing only: his hands on your ass and his face in your pussy.
“Don’t keep him waiting, darling,” Yunho said as he strolled past you towards the chair that sat facing the bed. He dropped down onto it, legs spread as he let himself fully relax. “Don’t you think he’s been patient enough? I know it might not seem like it, but you have no idea how much restraint hes had tonight,” Yunho smirked, “if he had it his way, you never would’ve left our apartment in that tight fucking dress. He would’ve been face deep in your cunt the moment you showed up at our doorstep, darling. I'm almost surprised he wasn’t…”
Mingi just chuckled from his spot on the bed before holding a hand out to you. You took it, not expecting to be yanked towards him the next second. The moment you were close enough, his big hands were everywhere, pulling you in every direction until seconds later, you too were on the bed, sitting on his chest with your knees either side of his head. You couldn’t hide the look of surprise when he hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, tugging it to the side so he could get a full viewing of your wet pussy. He groaned at the sight, tossing his head back in pleasure as if the sight of it alone could make him cum.
“God,” he grunted, slipping a finger inside before pulling it out and popping it into his mouth, “fuck, baby. going to eat you until I'm full, okay? Going to devour you like a fucking michelin star meal, and then when Yunho’s had his turn with you, I’m going to go back for seconds.”
Yunho let out a hearty chuckle as he watched his best friend struggle to contain himself. It seemed to be having an effect on you too. Yunho wasn’t sure whether or not you’d even noticed your hips gently rocking against Mingi's chest. He assumed not.
“Baby, take your dress off,'' Mingi grunted, watching as you complied right away, ripping the soft material over your head. There was no time to feel self conscious, both men letting out a guttural groan at the sight of you, reveling in the fact that they finally had you to themselves, naked and ready for them to take care of. The cold air of the room made your nipples perk up, Mingo briefly lifting a hand up to brush against your sensitive nub, “and panties too, okay? Don’t want anything in between me and my dinner, y’know?”
You giggled but did as he said, slipping off of him for just a second or two so you could pull them off completely. You placed them into his waiting palm, only for him to screw them up and chuck them at Yunho. The man in the chair caught them with ease, something that was so incredibly hot to you, before lifting them up to his nose and taking a long, dragged-out sniff. Your jaw dropped in shock, but you didn’t have long to dwell on what had just happened. Not when mingi was pawing at your thigh, trying to get you back into position.
You slid back to where you were previously, bare leaking pussy looking him dead in the eyes. He had a grin like a shark about to go in for the kill, but his eyes were glazed over with something that could only be described as pure joy.
“Sit,” he commanded.
You did, lowering yourself gently onto his chest, thighs aching as you used them to hold the majority of your weight.
“No,” he responded, “on my fucking face, baby.”
You blushed, shifting a little so you were hovering with your core just a few inches above his face.
“Baby, if I have to tell you again I won’t be very happy,” his hands landed on your hips, “fucking,” he tugged you down sharply until your clit was brushing against his nose gently, “sit.”
He pulled you down again onto his open mouth, his tongue immediately probing your hole and making you let out what could only be described as a pornographic moan. His nose was now firmly pressed against your clit, prodding it at a new angle every time he shifted his head.
He moaned, the action sending shivers down your spine and your hand shot down to grip at his hair. Your fingers tugged at his bleached hair, pulling a prolonged groan from his plush lips as his tongue played with your dripping hole. You could feel the vibrations deep within you, causing a shiver to run freely down your spine. It felt perfect, the way he mouthed at you like you were the best meal he was ever going to have. The way he tasted you, alternating from forcing his tongue deep inside of your hole to slurping up your juices and making the most obscene, filthy sounds you think you'd ever heard. Add that to the fact that you could feel Yunho’s eyes running up and down your naked body, and you were almost ready to cum within 20 seconds of taking your seat.
“How’s she taste, Mingi?” the brunette asked from his seat, “as good as you’d been hoping? Or better?” You could hear the laughter in his voice as he quizzed your best friend. Part of you was expecting Mingi to pull away to answer, but instead he just mumbled a few incoherent words directly into your pussy before shifting his face slightly to allow his tongue to play with your clit. Yunho chuckled as you gasped at the new sensation. “Dude, you really need to learn to stop talking with your mouth full.”
But Mingi didn't pull away to repeat himself, simply letting himself indulge in his meal. In you. Lips wrapping around your clit, suckling at the bud harshly until you were letting out sharp little gasps and holding onto his hair for dear life. Sometimes he’d let his teeth scrape against you, making you whine over and over again. Then he’d circle the delicate bud with his tongue, soothing it briefly before starting the process all over again.
Suck, nip, soothe, repeat.
It was all getting to be too much. You hadn't even noticed when Yunho stood from the seat and made the short walk over to the bed. You hadn't noticed him shedding his loose white shirt, nor had you noticed him taking a seat next to you on the bed. The sound of him spitting onto his hand never registered, nor did the deep hum of satisfaction when he noticed that you were starting to grind slightly against Mingi’s face. In fact, it wasn’t until a wet digit began to circle your puckered hole that you even realised just how much had happened whilst you lost yourself in a dizzy haze of pleasure.
You cried out when you felt the digit pressing into you, pushing past the resisting ring of muscle and delving deep inside of you. That alone was enough to make you topple forwards, Mingi’s hands catching you before you could completely collapse against him. His tongue worked you through the orgasm, somehow working in perfect sync with Yunho’s finger. If you werent already feeling so fucked out, you probably wouldve marvelled at just how well practiced they seemed working as one unit. That was a thought for when you were fully lucid, though. Not for when you were cumming on your best friends tongue whilst your other best friend played with your tight asshole like it was nothing.
It felt good. Fuck, it felt damn near perfect, but you were quickly moving into the territory of overstimulation. Yunho seemed to notice, the keen eye he always kept on you working to his advantage yet again as he let his finger slide out of you and he pulled you off of Mingi’s mouth with a pop. The blonde let out a whine of complaint that was quickly silenced when he saw the blissed out look on your face as Yunho placed you gently down beside Mingi on the mattress. His sorrowful pout quickly turned into a smirk as he realised that he was the one to put you in such a state.
“One orgasm and she’s already gone dumb,” Yunho chuckled as he stood once more, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants drop to the floor. Again, a more lucid you would’ve balked at his lack of boxers, but instead all you could do was whimper as you saw the sheer size of him. It was easily the biggest dick you’d ever seen, let alone had anywhere close to you. The smug look on Yunho’s face let you know that he was aware of that fact though. “Got to be a record, right?”
“It definitely is,” Mingi’s lips were wet as he spoke, but he never bothered to wipe it away. You blushed at the thought of him wearing you on his face. He smiled, brushing a finger up against your heated cheek. “I think it's a sign.”
“A sign of what?” Yunho crawled back onto the bed, letting himself sit back on his ankles as he just stared. Eyes scanned you up and down, just as they were when he watched you ride Mingi’s face, mapping every single detail of your body. You wondered whether he did that to every girl they brought into their beds, or just you. Perhaps you were just delusional, but you couldn't help that your mind settled on the latter.
“That she’s made for us,” Mingi answered, sounding as though he was more sure of that fact than anything else in the world, “I mean come on, dude, look at her! Have you ever seen a more perfect sight?”
Yunho hummed in contemplation, acting as though he was thinking deeply about the matter of whether you were ‘made for them’ or not. As he considered, his hands joined his eyes in mapping out your body, trailing their way lightly from your ankles to your calves, stopping briefly at your thighs to massage them back to life, and then moving on to your hips. His fingertips sank into the plush flesh and he couldn’t help but let his usual warm smile make its way onto his face.
“I think you’re right, Mingi,” he said as he rubbed gentle circles into your skin, “I don't think I’ve ever seen a sight as beautiful as this one. Our little pipsqueak, lay out on your bed just for us. It just feels right.”
“I’ve lay here plenty of times,” you muttered, breaking up the conversation they were having over your head. Your brain was starting to fight through the fog that Mingi’s tongue and Yunho’s finger had somehow managed to bring upon it. Almost coherent thoughts were fighting their way to the forefront of your brain, although you had no doubt Yunho would fuck them away again in just a moments time. “And I’m pretty sure I've been naked in this bed too…”
Both men laughed wholeheartedly at the memory. You, passed out drunk in Mingi’s bed as the two men tried to get you changed into something better to sleep in. Stripping you had been the easy part. For some reason - one that you never planned on sharing - you’d been more than willing to take off each and every item of clothing once the two of you had dragged you away from the festivities in their living room. The two were more than respectful of your nude form, only sneaking glances every once in a while as they practically fought you to get you dressed into something suitable to sleep in. Apparently, not that you could remember it all too well, you’d been adamant on remaining naked and it was only when Mingi offered to buy you that pretty skirt you’d been eyeing up for weeks that you agreed to wear the boxers and the sweater that were being offered to you.
“This is different, baby,” Mingi whispered as he traced your lips with his fingers, “you were drunk then. Our priority was taking care of you and making sure that our best friend was okay. Tonight, our priority is fucking you into this mattress and making sure that our girl can’t walk straight tomorrow. It's all about context, baby.”
“So you’re saying you didn't find me hot?”
Both of them chuckled.
“You were downright adorable, but as for hot? We wouldn’t know, darling,” Yunho began to move his hands again, bringing them up to your breasts to massage them gently in his hands, “our priority was making sure you didn't throw up onto Mingi’s bed. We took a little bit of a break from fantasizing about fucking your brains out.”
“And that's all it was,” Mingi’s hand joined Yunho’s in caressing your body. Although his moved straight down to your core, dipping a finger into the wet mess he’d left there. He chuckled at the way your jaw dropped slightly, breath hitching as he let one of his long fingers slip inside of you. It curled against your velvety walls, stroking them gently. “I promise that the moment you woke up in the morning with your pouty lips and your messy hair, I went straight back to wanting you.”
“S-straight back?” You stuttered as he slipped another finger in. “I doubt that.”
Yunho flicked their thumbs over your pebbled nipples, grinning at the way you arched your back a little.
“Of course, baby! Are you kidding?” The fingers inside you picked up their pace, scissoring slightly to stretch you out. “Morning sex with you would be so fucking hot. You’re so soft and pliant when you first wake up. I just know you’d be whimpering so sweet while we manhandle you and take you apart piece by piece.”
“She’s soft and pliant all the time, Mingi. One compliment and she’s practically a fucking lap dog” Yunho took his hands away from your tits. A pathetic - even by your own admission - whine forced its way up your throat, to which Yungho replied with a chuckle. “She even cries like one.”
A third finger was pressed to your entrance, slipping inside of you with a pleasant stretch. It felt like almost too much, but one look at Yunho’s member that rested heavy between his legs had you swallowing any complaints you had. If you were going to take him like you so desperately wanted to, you'd need the prep. You’d need to be stretched out by Mingi’s fingers. As daunting as the prospect of it all was, you were a big girl.
You could take it.
You lay there, bones melting to nothing as you tried your hardest to relax into the stretch. Even if Mingi’s fingers weren’t particularly thick, they were long, and the way he was spreading them within you, pushing at your gummy walls, had you seeing stars. You gripped his wrist as he ground the heel of his hand into you, bringing you hurtling towards your second orgasm as if you hadn’t come down from your first just minutes before.
“Fuck, Mingi,” you gasped, “going to make me cum again.”
Your thighs were desperately trying to close around Mingi’s hand, but Yunho seemed to have other ideas. He grasped at them, pushing them even further apart and leaning down so his face was directly across from where Mingi was knuckle deep within you. He groaned at the sight, cock jumping slightly in anticipation. God, he wanted to be inside of you so bad.
The sound you made as you came was something you'd never heard from your own mouth before. It was loud and long and had the two boys practically drooling over you as you writhed around under their large hands and sultry gazes. Yunho's hands stopped you from wriggling away from them as Mingi once again pushed you to the brink of overstimulation before drawing his hand back and lazily licking his fingers clean.
It was quite possibly the filthiest thing you’d ever seen. you couldn’t tear your eyes away. His thick tongue darted out of his mouth to lap at the sticky substance that coated his digits before drawing back into his mouth with a thick string of arousal still connected. He groaned, eyes flickering shut as if it was the best fucking meal he’d ever tasted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.
“Give me a taste,'' Yunho brought your attention back to him within seconds. His hands let go of your thighs, moving until they were either side of your head and his toned chest lay just above your head. You briefly admired his pecs until a moan drew your gaze back up to his mouth. his own lips were wrapped around Mingi’s middle and ring finger, cheeks hollowed out as he sucked your juices from them. Your jaw dropped as you watched him give a pretty convincing blowjob to the fingers that were plunged deep into his mouth. he pulled back, breathing heavily. “Holy fuck, puppy. What do you eat to make your pussy taste so sweet, huh?”
The fact that he’d called you puppy didn’t go unnoticed, but you were too dazed to comment. Panting like a bitch in heat as he grinned down at you, a new sheen over his lips to match mingi’s. It suited him just as much, you realised.
“Do you think you’ll taste just as sweet when we’re mixed together?” he asked as he lined himself up with your hole. He thrusted into you just a little, enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head, before slowly drawing out again and repeating the process. “I think you will, but we’ll have to wait for Mingi to give the final verdict, yeah? he’s really into the clean up process, puppy.”
You were too fucked out to work out what Yunho meant, although you had a feeling it had to do with the blonde's seemingly voracious appetite.
Mingi tugged his finger out of his mouth with a pop.
“Nothing could tarnish the way she tastes,” he groaned as Yunho continued to thrust into you, gradually getting deeper and deeper each time he pushed into you, “even with your gross seed dripping out of her.”
Yunho rolled his eyes at Mingi as he bottomed out. you couldn’t help but tense up at the sensation of being so overwhelmingly full. It felt silly, but you were shocked at just how much bigger he was than the three fingers you came around moments prior. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix as his pelvis came to a stop against yours. He was still for a few seconds, eyes carefully studying your screwed up face for a sigh that he could begin. It took a few seconds for the crinkles in your forehead to flatten out, but once they did, he drew his hips back in one long stroke and began to thrust.
“You fucking love sucking me off,” Yunho spat back as his hips rocked into you at a harsh pace. Sharp slaps echoed around the room each time his hips came into contact with yours. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your body went completely limp against the wrinkled-up sheets.
“I have an oral fixation, dude,” Mingi shuffled closer so he could study your face a little closer. The way your lips parted, tiny gasps coming out with each thrust. The way your eyes were spaced out, staring into thin air as you tried desperately to hang on to reality. He smirked as you whined when Yunho thrusted into you particularly hard, “me sucking you off every once in a blue moon has nothing to do with whether I like the taste of your cum or not.”
And with that, he put his lips against yours, tongue immediately taking the opportunity to explore your open mouth. Your fingers, which were desperately grasping at the sheets, flew up to the back of his head. They tangled themselves in his short locks, holding him tightly against you as he spread the taste of yourself against your mouth.
It was messy, all tongue and teeth, but you expected nothing else from Mingi. He licked at your mouth the same way he did your pussy, seeming to gather your spit onto his tongue, devouring each and every drop he could gather. You couldn’t help but let your jaw go slack, allowing him full access to your mouth. Something that had him letting out a low moan of his own.
“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he mumbled as he pulled away for a second, almost immediately diving back in for more. You had no time to bask in the praise before you felt a thumb pressing against your already abused clit. You gasped into Mingi’s mouth and he smiled against your open mouth. “Such a perfect girl, huh? So reactive for us.”
“Damn right she is,” Yunho continued with the same punishing pace, although his movements were getting a little sloppy. You could tell he was close, and as he circled your overstimulated clit, you could tell that you were too. Three was a lot for you, but with your two boys, it felt so natural. They pulled them out of you with ease, sending you to an unfamiliar headspace with each one. “She's our perfect girl. always fucking has been.”
“Of course she has been,” Mingi licked a stripe up your neck, loving the way it made you squirm, “our gorgeous, clueless girl. No idea just how perfect her pretty little body is.”
“Fucking shame that you are so clueless, puppy,” Yunho leant down, breathing heavy in your ears as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. The shapes he was rubbing into your clit were desperate as he tried to pull your orgasm out of you before he spilled himself inside of you, “you had no clue that your two big, bad best friends wanted nothing more than to love you, did you?”
You whined as Mingi bit into the flesh of your shoulder. It was the final push you needed to tip you over the edge. Your head was spinning as Yunho worked you through it, hips coming to a stop as he filled you up with his cum.
“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears.
You didn’t notice when he pulled out, sucking in a sharp breath as he washed his cum flow out of your sopping hole. Just like you didn’t notice when Mingi let out a sad whine at the sight of you being too fucked out for him to ‘clean you up’ in his own special sense of the word. Nor did you notice when Yunho went searching through Mingi’s drawers to find a pack of baby wipes.
You did notice when the cold, wet tissue first made contact with your hot skin. You whined, writhing around in discomfort as Mingi shushed you and pressed a kiss to your temple. Yunho's movements were gentle as he wiped the layer of sweat away before getting out a fresh wipe and focussing on your core. It was sensitive down there, but Mingi’s gentle comfort made it so Yunho could do his job without much upset. That didn't mean that whenever he went within a centimeter of your swollen bud you wouldn’t let out a quiet whimper. Mingi just smiled and kissed your pouted lips to distract from the overstimulation of Yunho wiping a mixture of spit and cum away from your clit.
“We really should get you up, pipsqueek,” the brunette muttered as he flopped back onto the bed, tossing an arm over your waist so naturally that it was like he hadn’t been balls deep in you minutes before, “you always complain about how you’re always too lazy to pee after sex and how you always end up with a UTI.”
“i don’t think i can bear another trip to the store to stock up on cranberry juice,” Mingi giggled in such a Mingi-ish way that the idea of his tongue pressed deep in your pussy felt like little more than one of your many daydreams about him, “it was so embarrassing when we had girls over only to offer them a drink and open the fridge to 4 bottles of cran…”
Yunho laughed wholeheartedly.
“Well I guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he kissed your cheek gently, “not when we have the perfect girl right here.”
“Does this mean no more pretending I'm not jealous when you two are talking about your sexcapades?” you mutter, still only half of your brain working at full speed.
“Only if it means we dont have to hear about any more tinder hook-ups,” mingi responded, “god i fucking hated all of those men who got to touch you before i did.”
You rolled your eyes.
“You guys only have yourselves to blame. I never would’ve gone near those guys had you two not started collecting women like fucking Pokemon first!”
“I guess so,” Yunho muttered, pressing a light kiss to your temple, “but you need to know that none of them were really ours. We just didn't know we were allowed the real thing, so we had to settle.”
You scoffed.
“Real feminist of you, Yunho,” you lightly slapped his chest. Mingi laughed.
“Sorry, darling,” he apologised, “forgot that you're all for the ‘women support women’ thing, even when you're so clearly jealous.”
A comfortable silence fell over the three of you as you held one another. You in the middle with Yunho to your front and Mingi pressed to your back. You didn't miss the way their fingers tangled with one another's atop your hip. You could've mentioned it, but that was for another time.
“What made you flip tonight?” You finally asked, the all-important question dangling for a moment or two like bait. You bit, waiting patiently for the boys to give you the answer.
“You made Yunho mad,” Mingi was the first to speak, “thinking bad about yourself and your body, as if he hasn't spent years trying to talk you out of that sort of behaviour.”
You hummed in response.
“Needed to prove how beautiful we think you are, baby,” Yunho picked up where Mingi left off. “Making you ours in the process was just an added bonus.”
“So you really want me?”
“Always have, baby.”
“Always will.”
2K notes · View notes
bunny584 · 2 months
Text
OBSESSED: SHOKO (feat. The Boys)
A/N: This took an entirely different route than I expected when I first started dribbling it. This was a fun one 🤭
C/W: Cuckholding, Mature, 18+
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Fact: You are the hottest woman alive.
Fact: Shoko is no better than a man.
Shoko is no better than a man because she has used you — your pictures, your smile, your tight hugs — as her personal spank bank.
Truthfully, she can’t really pinpoint the moment you broke her brain.
All she remembers is that there was an inflection point in time. Before meeting you. And after meeting you.
And the funniest part of it all is that you two have nothing in common.
Shoko is a sorcerer at Jujutsu Tech. You are a normie at University of Tokyo.
Shoko can count on one hand how many people she can tolerate. People flock to you in droves. And you like it.
Shoko is red wine and cigarettes. You are champagne and birthday cake.
So how the hell did a bubble gum, pretty pink, girly girl, princess work her way into Shoko’s life? And take permanent residence in a little (extremely large) part of her brain?
Not to mention the havoc you are wreaking in her heart. Whatever is left of the cold, shriveled plumbing system keeping her alive.
When was it exactly?
Shoko lights another cigarette on her short 2 mile walk home. You have a habit of making her burn through her vices.
Was it the night you went out dancing?
When the dress you wore made Shoko see God?
You grinded every part of your mind-altering curves on her, and Shoko left sopping wet. At home she immediately reached for her vibrator. Unable to look herself in the eye for a full day after that.
Or maybe it was the time you fell asleep curled up in her lap. Wearing one of her old ratty softball shirts, smelling like her shampoo. Small, rhythmic breaths flowing from your lips.
You looked like the missing puzzle piece in Shoko’s life.
No, no.
It’s definitely was the time you came barreling into her apartment with balloons and flowers and cupcakes that were too sweet. All because Shoko had finally mastered her reversed curse technique before the prodigal sons.
You can barely even grasp the concept of curses. And why would you?
A soft, gentle soul like you couldn’t muster enough negativity to form a curse.
You live in the clouds. Among the angels. You can’t see curses and yet — somehow —you’re the most supernatural person in any room.
She’s completely, fully, idiotically smitten with you.
And so is everybody else.
You pretty, unaware little thing. You have the two strongest sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech and their personal medic wrapped around your dainty fingers and you have no idea.
Suguru? He stares. Vision sharper than a hawk. He watches you talk, eat, walk, text, think. Suguru anticipates your next breath and would kiss oxygen into your mouth if he could. Even still, despite how taken he is, Suguru is the best at concealing his puppy love.
Satoru is the absolute worst.
Limitless goes off the second you step into a room. And Satoru rarely clicks off his technique otherwise. Even when it’s just Shoko or Suguru around.
He all but chains you to his body. He’s always lifting you, hugging you, carrying you, holding your hand, holding your hair. Satoru would crawl inside of your body and live there, if he could.
Then there’s Shoko.
Who seethes when anyone looks your way. But also masturbates to the thought of other people touching you.
A fucking mess of a conundrum, right?
The first time it happened was about 8 months ago. Definitely one too many glasses of Cabernet were poured. You two were gabbing on the phone. Exchanging the best and worst sex you’ve had to date.
And you. In that melodic, breathy, gossamer thin voice of yours that belongs in Heaven’s choir started saying the dirtiest things. About how cock-drunk you were. How you begged and pleaded for more. Swallowed cum like it was your only sustenance. And squirted all over your lover, only to kiss it off his face after.
Shoko touched herself until she came right then and there. On the phone. You unknowingly talking her through her one of the most satisfying orgasms of her life.
Since then it’s been a horrible habit she’s given into time and time again.
And who’s to say? Maybe it’s from constantly being in the shadows of Suguru’s Sun and Satoru’s Moon that there’s comfort in watching from the side lines?
Maybe she’s found the sweet pleasure in that pain and it’s manifested as her lust for others having their way with you? And her blind infatuation with you?
No, wait.
Not blind.
With you it’s like she has the Six Eyes. And with you, so does everyone else.
Shoko drags in a long, exasperated breath. Pausing just outside her apartment entrance, stomping out the last of her menthol.
If the time she spent mulling over you in her mind could be converted caloric energy - she’d be a supermodel by now.
Whatever.
Today’s the best day of the week. Friday.
Which means when Shoko opens her door, you’re going to be fussing about the kitchen. Cooking some kind of dessert for Movie Night.
The Boys usually trip over themselves getting to Shoko’s apartment after classes. But there’s always an idyllic 15 minutes where Shoko has you all to herself.
15 minutes in Heaven. Like she’s a damn middle school girl.
Shoko opens her door and nearly flatlines.
You’re evil.
An evil, mean, cruel tease.
You KNOW anyone with eyes would have a stroke at the site of you.
Fully bent over at the waist, rummaging through pots and pans. Not a single blemish on your silky smooth skin. Your lilac boy shorts could not BE any tighter. And of course, they’re just short enough to not cover the plump shelf of your lower ass cheeks.
Shoko’s hands start twitching. Like she’s going through withdrawal.
You pop back up with a triumphant “there it is!” An empty small pot in your hands. And Shoko thinks she’ll have to add a heart attack to her growing list of ailments.
Your matching lilac tank top is egregiously and deliciously small. The sliver of tummy between the hem of the top and waist of your shorts could bring civilizations to collapse.
Not to mention that the apartment is cold. And your nipples are so painfully responsive.
Sin.
You are sin.
Wrapped in the most beautiful frame of a woman.
“Babe!! You’re already home. I let myself in because the icing for these cupcakes takes forever to get right.”
You flash your Colgate smile, ensnaring Shoko in your trap.
“You’re going to give Satoru and Suguru a heart attack.” Her, you’re going to give her a heart attack.
“Hmm? Why do you say that?” So non-chalant. So oblivious.
Shoko gestures to your outfit. Attempting to mirror your nonchalance. But, ironically, she can feel her face tumbling down the descending shades of red.
Genuine confusion weaves though your features and she almost screams.
“Shoko please. You know they don’t see me that way!”
Everyone, gorgeous. EVERYONE. Sees you that way.
Before she could edge another word out, the familiar hum of Limitless buzzing inward splits Shoko’s thoughts in half.
Dammit, they’re early.
“Daddy’s Home!”
Satoru charges straight at you because of course he would.
“Satoru!!!” You’re a plaything in his arms. Legs tightening around his waist.
Shoko would pay an inordinate amount of money to trade places with him.
She watches through an envy-green screen. How easily Satoru spins you and tosses you on the kitchen counter. Situating himself between your soft thighs.
How would your body bounce against his hips thrusting into you?
“You have to taste this, pretty boy.”
Tsk. He’s not THAT pretty.
Both Shoko and Suguru watch through parted lips as you shove half a cupcake into Satoru’s mouth. Neither of you miss how his tongue flicks between your fingers. Or how his hips lean closer to your barely clothed flower.
He lets out an exaggerated groan. “Fucking, perfect. I could eat your cupcake..all night.”
“You perv.”
You laugh and shove Satoru back from between your legs. Then turn in Shoko’s direction.
Silently curving your index finger forward, you beckon. Both Shoko and Suguru start toward you like well-trained, love-struck pets.
“No pouting Suguru, you’re pretty too. And up next.”
And Shoko’s shoulders sink like the child who is picked last for dodge ball teams.
Her eyes trail Suguru’s back - wishing to every God she was born with a technique allowing her to take over a host’s body.
“Me next.” He settles between your legs.
Suguru, the master of subtlety. Everyone but you can pick up on the strain in his baritone.
There’s something so painfully sensual about the way he grips both of your thighs. Your skin is so smooth, so pliant under his large hands. Waiting on your fingers to invade his mouth.
How pretty would your lips look like wrapped around his fingers? Do your cheeks hollow out when you suck on something larger?
Shoko crosses her right foot over the left. As if jamming her thighs together would stop the growing pool of lust between her legs.
“Alright babe, best for last. I have something for you too.”
Suguru takes his time pulling away from the warmth of your core. And Shoko has to strap her mind to her body to keep from sprinting at you.
Eventually, she nestles between your legs and is at eye level with your pert nipples. Immediately caught in a trance. So close to her mouth.
“Blushing so much!” Your thumb pulls Shoko’s focus back to earth.
Blushing so much because she wants to watch her best friends fuck you. Then lick your cunt clean after they’re done.
“I’m not, what’s my surprise?”
“So demanding.” You giggle. Your palm takes away Shoko’s view of your perky, hard nipples.
“Open.”
Shoko’s jaw hangs at your command. Cold glass hits her lips before the full bodied, decadent Cabernet does.
Red wine. Because she hates sweets.
You’re as thoughtful as you are beautiful and everything you do is a turn on.
“Mmmm,” Shoko hums and you gift her vision back.
“Amazing, right?” You take your own sip, maintaining eye contact.
Shoko’s eyes fall to your lips. And how you roll the wine over your tongue. Savoring each drop.
How would your tongue feel rolling around her mouth? Her neck? Her nipple? What kind of sounds would you make if her tongue rolled around your petals? Your clit? What do you taste—
“Movie time?” You break Satoru, Suguru and Shoko���s daze.
All three of them scramble around you. Grabbing your cupcakes, snacks and wine to settle in on Shoko’s huge sectional couch.
You drape your body over Satoru and Suguru’s lap. A little loose limbed kitten. Shoko situates herself on the long arm of her chair.
Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything you do in the the most permanent part of her mind.
You nuzzle your cheek into Suguru’s thigh. His forearm immediately drops in front of his crotch. Undoubtedly to avoid spearing you with his manhood.
“Play with my hair, Suguru?”
“Yes. Of course.”
His free hand weaves into your hair. The soft, decadent moan you exhale sent visible shudders down their spines.
Shoko’s eyes laser to Satoru’s hands. His eyes haven’t touched the screen since the movie began. His grasp encompasses your entire back thighs. Slowly gliding them up to the delicate mounds of your ass.
“God that feels amazing.”
Satoru’s Adams Apple drags along the column of his throat. “Yeah?”
“So good.”
You deepen the arch in your back and the physical restraint Satoru imposes on himself is visible.
The only person watching the movie is you.
And the room tilts on its axis the moment you melt deeper into the boys’ hands. Their names, quiet praise, seep from your lips.
Satoru and Suguru exchange hooded gazes.
As if to commiserate about how fucking hot you are. And how it’s taking active awareness of every single muscle to not do vulgar things to you.
Not even a backward glance Shoko’s way.
Again.
Leaving Shoko out of the conversation. Again.
She angrily tosses a blanket over her lap. Frustration bubbling up her throat. Her fingers clumsily fumble with her zipper. She’s pissed. Angry. Fucking jealous.
And so turned on she might crawl out of her skin if she doesn’t touch herself this goddamn second.
Shoko’s fingers are ice cold against her warm, wet clit. It’s agonizing. How incredible the pressure feels.
You look delicious. So small between their laps. Far too tiny to handle them both.
But God it would be so hot.
It would be so fucking hot. To watch you choke all over Suguru’s cock. Slobber into his lap. All while Satoru bullies his length into your soft, dewy pussy. Helpless. Overstimulated.
Getting used like the pretty Barbie doll you are.
And the way they touch you, so brazenly, in front of her.
Like Shoko’s presence isn’t even remotely threatening. She isn’t any competition for their big hands and broad shoulders. Masculine frames. That’s why she’s just sitting there. Pathetic. Rubbing herself dumb just watching.
She would be so happy, so fucking eager to lap you clean. Pet your swollen, abused folds when they’re done with you. Hump a pillow while she sucks your nipples. You’d moan and whine and squirm under her touch.
Would you beg? Or laugh at how pitiful she is? Getting off to remnants of you when the Boys have had their way?
Shoko accidentally choking on her own drool draws almost everyone’s attention to her. The hand that was molesting her sensitive bud freezes.
Suguru’s eyes flicker back down to you, sleeping beauty.
Their coordinated touch lulled you to bed. Satoru’s eyes linger on Shoko long enough to make her simmer under his gaze. She blinks back to the movie, credits now scrolling up the screen.
How long was Shoko day dreaming?
“Let’s get her to bed.” Suguru gently pulls you onto his chest. You sleepily drape your arms around his neck.
Satoru follows close behind him into Shoko’s room. Because putting the smallest little kitten to bed is a two person job.
Shoko scrambles to zip up her pants and swipe the last of her arousal on the blanket. She gets to the doorway and watches the Boys dote over you in a way that makes them slightly more endearing.
You wake up long enough to murmur goodnight. Floating your arms in the air so the boys can bring their hugs to you. Both of them place quick pecks on your forehead. Leaving you with the cutest, most content smile on your sleepy face.
At least Suguru can hold it together. He weaves out of Shoko’s room quickly.
Satoru, however, keeps stopping along the 10 foot pace to the doorway to just stare. As if a monster from your nightmares will pop up the second he leaves you alone.
Shoko snorts, arms crossing her chest. “Put it back in your pants, yes?”
“Look who is talking.” Sly grin pulls across Satoru’s perfect, blinding teeth. Shoko could punch him right now.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ieiri. I have the fucking six eyes. What do you think I’m talking about.”
Satoru wires around Shoko’s stunned body.
He and Suguru are out of her apartment before she can bat her eyelashes 5 times.
Shoko all but sprints to the kitchen. She gulps the rest of her red wine. Something. Anything to burn Satoru’s comment out of her mind. And to put out the desperate flame between her legs.
You’re in her bed.
She’s just been masturbating watching her two best friends touch you.
One of her best friends is FULLY aware of this all.
Her hands shakenly pour another, head sized glass of Cabernet. Which is doing absolutely nothing for how lusty she feels right now. And everything to destroy her self control.
Why does she have to sit on the sidelines?
Why do they get access to you that she doesn’t?
She downs the last few drops of red wine. Storming back to her room. She’s going to confront this once and for all.
You’re strewn over her bed like a silk scarf. Rolling, tender hills of flesh. Valleys of feminine curves. Shoko grips both of your dainty wrists. Tossing you onto your back.
Sleepy groans bubble out of you. Your eyes lazily slide open. Not an ounce of concern on your face. Full of trust. Even though Shoko is glaring down at you like she wants to crawl in your skin.
“Bad dream?”
“No.” Shoko is kurt. Angry. Jealous.
“What is it?”
“I just…” Moonlight is kissing your face in the way Shoko wants to.
“T-The boys,” Your eyes flutter expectantly. Nose crinkling in fuzzy confusion.
“The-the boys always get to touch you. And pick you up. And tuck you in. And kiss you. And-and I-im just…”
“Do you want to kiss me?”
Shoko hears her heart stop beating.
What did you just ask? So casually. As if you didn’t just catapult her into another dimension.
“H-huh? What?” Shoko didn’t hear you right.
There’s no way.
“I asked if you want to kiss me.” Something other than innocence lines your voice. And it pets Shoko’s flame
“I—I uh. M-. Yes.”
“So kiss me.”
Only one second of shocked hesitation passes before Shoko crashes her lips into yours.
Of course your lips taste like this. Marshmallow soft. Cotton candy sweet. Mini explosions of pleasure surge in all directions of her body.
“God,” Shoko groans, bringing the back of your head impossibly closer to her.
Melting into the soft hills and rolls of your sweet tongue. Shoko whines into your mouth like the desperate puppy she is. She’s drunk. Intoxicated. And it has nothing to do with the wine.
Do you know that?
Have you always known?
How does anyone ever make it out of their embrace with you with their wits about them?
“Baby,” you sigh into Shoko’s swollen lips.
Her hands tremble against your waist. Twitching to explore. Dying to map every inch of your body.
She lets out little, staccato moans of protest when you pull away.
“Feel better?”
Your starry eyes sparkle between Shoko’s. Sleepy, pretty smile playing on your puffy lips.
Shoko nods wordlessly. You’ve already stolen her logic and her heart. Might as well add her voice to the list.
You place a chaste kiss on Shoko’s lips before cocooning underneath the sheets.
Like you didn’t just make her fall in love.
“Goodnight, baby.”
PART. II
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ferrstappen · 4 months
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could you be more obvious? l MV1
a/n: thissss is based on a request I got and ofc I added the Verstappen twins <3 this is messy I’m sorry but I’m on a writing mood
summary: you show up pregnant for the first race of 2024, just six months after Max won his 3rd WDC.
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Max being crowned world champion for the third time was something that made your skin buzz with excitement, a knot form in your throat seeing everything he’s achieved and the pride and satisfaction of knowing that every single person on the team had his back, was definitely one of the best sights.
But for Luca and Mila Verstappen, their papa being champion again time wasn’t exactly a big deal… they knew it was important because there were lots of fireworks and special tshirts, but they were born watching Max a champion, they only knew him as such.
what, like it’s a big deal?
They didn’t say it, but you knew that’s what was on their mind.
That was the reason why both Max and you decided to not bring the twins to Qatar, especially with the high temperatures and Luca’s history of getting sick during Grand Prix weekends, they were more than happy to stay with auntie Vic while you got ready to celebrate your husband.
And God, did you celebrate him.
Without the twins, the gin and tonics kept coming, the sloppy make out session on the VIP area of the club as if you were teenagers again, his front pressed against your back as he tried to impress you with his best moves, only to earn a couple of drunken giggles and peck on the lips.
Things were starting to quiet down, lots of people had already left to their hotel room, but you and Max were on a world of your own, with you sitting on top of him, but the moment you started feeling his lips ghosting against your neck, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your hip.
and you knew it was time to go.
Bahrain, 2024
Max didn’t remember being so excited for race day. Yes, he was anxious for the new season, but the highlight of his day was seeing you getting ready, a loose blouse and white jeans accentuating the noticeable belly of six months of pregnancy, which was a complete surprise to everyone.
You entered the paddock through the main entrance, with photographers everywhere and Kym Ilman greeting your family, because the scene was worth more than a couple thousand likes on Instagram: you were holding Mila’s hand who in return was holding Luca’s, while Max walked with his arm protectively around your belly.
The twins weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a baby brother or sister, a fact they made clear by asking every day if there was any chance to stop the baby from coming home eventually, telling you and Max that they were more than okay having the cats. Sadly, they were the only ones
“No! No! No! Is that why you went MIA on social media? Oh my God look at this bump! Congratulations you two,” Lily let go of Alex’s hand to give you a tight hug as Alex congratulated Max with a couple of pats on the back.
The scene repeated itself with most drivers on the grid, who didn’t ask how far along you were, but were able to deduce the situation. Until…
“How far along are you?” Charles asked you as he held Luca on his arms, letting him mess with his hair.
You blushed and Max’s chest puffed as if he has been waiting for the question. “I’m a couple of days away from the six months mark,”
Charles looked as if he was doing a very specific and difficult math problem as his girlfriend, Alexandra, stares at him with a faint blush on her cheeks, probably since she has always been more reserved around you because she was younger, but she was impatiently waiting for her boyfriend to catch on the situation.
“This is a 2023 season baby?” Charles asked.
“Looks like it,” Max answered with a smug smile on his face, but in reality it was an excited grin which reached his blue eyes.
“No…” Charles jaw dropped and had to put Luca on the floor.
“No what?” Max counter asked, even if he knew the answer. This time he started drawing mindless shapes on the clothes over your swollen stomach.
“Max… is this your championship child?” Charles whispered, shocked.
“What can I say? Winning on and off the track!”
And Charles almost passed out as both you and Max laughed, beaming while interlacing your fingers over your belly, knowing cameras wouldn’t catch you there.
user1: Max knocked y/n up the night of the third championship change my mind
user2: Max Verstappen pulled a k-mag and I respect that
user3: do we know the birthday of the verstappen twins? Asking for a friend
user4: y/n and max will have a full kindergarten if they have a kid every time he wins the championship💀
user5: are we really surprised after those videos leaked of max squeezing her ass while they were celebrating the 3rd wdc
user6: if the maths are mathing this baby will be born around the Monaco gp. GODS PLAN
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selene-themoon · 5 months
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Forbidden Feelings
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Pairing: Astarion x plus sized female Tav
Synopsis: it's only when Astarion fails to seduce her that he finds he actually wants to.
Warnings: Mature content, 18+ only. Male masturbation, there will be a Part 2. Mentions of past abuse (duh, it's Astarion.)
Part 2
~
The first time he propositioned Tav, she was kneeling by the river scrubbing blood out of her shirt. Astarion leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his ankles just so and letting the moon glow catch in his hair as he purred, "There you are, darling."
She murmured a frothy reply, something about not being gone long, but the vampire didn't miss the way her shoulders rounded, blocking his view of all the soft skin spilling from her chemise.
Ah. A shy one. Easily fixed.
Reigning in the lascivious tone, he sauntered over to her side, kneeling on the smooth stones. Not touching, but close enough that he knew she'd feel his presence.
"How could I fail to miss the presence of the brightest light in our midst?" He projected just enough that his breath might catch her sensitive ear lobe, dropping his voice low. "Our loveliest star."
Still, she didn't turn, scrubbing the collar with her fingernails. "I'm sure Gale would be offended you didn't choose him."
Astarion frowned.
He was beginning to think he'd lost his touch.
"Whatever do you mean, my sweet?" He reached to run a finger down the full curve of her arm.
Tav turned, the softness in her face turned hard.
"Ok Astarion, you can stop now."
Shit.
His hand dropped delicately into his lap, arranging his features into a mask of innocent shock. "I apologise profusely if I misread your interest, darling."
"Oh, please." She wrung the pale cotton between her hands, the droplets shining as they ran down her skin. "I wasn't born yesterday."
The vampire's shock became genuine, thin brows furrowing. "Now, now. I thought-"
"You thought I'd be the easiest to win over." Tav turned, her expression unreadable.
Astarion's hackles raised. That was almost exactly what he thought - and well, the others had rejected his advances flat out - but he wasn't about to admit it.
"I thought we might bring a little fun into these drab surrounds." He stood with a flourish, checking for dirt under his spotless fingernails. "Remember fun? Or is endless toil what really gets you going?"
Astarion expected her to shy away. To curve inwards and hide like she had before. Instead, she got to her feet and faced him, her bare skin on full display.
He wasn't immune to the spill of her cleavage - or how tightly it hugged against the near transparent material - and let his eyes drag down her plush body for the first time.
"If I believed for a moment that that might actually be what you wanted, I think I'd be the one reminding you how to have fun, Astarion."
She picked the shirt up from where she'd left it at her feet and trudged back toward the camp, hips swaying with the movement.
Astarion was too pissed to enjoy it.
~
Things settled surprisingly fast. Goblins were dispatched, tadpoles lingered, and many - so many - detours were taken. Astarion and Tav's relationship went back to wry grins and eye rolls - his at her endless time wasting and hers at what she called his "disdain for human life."
Since the failed seduction, he'd had to become accustomed to the howling anxiety in the back of his mind. The one that assured him they'd dump him at the next outpost. That his master would catch up with him, friendless and alone.
But then Tav would look back over her shoulder and wait for him to catch up, teasing him all the while about his "worry face," and the wolves would lessen just a bit.
Not that he didn't enjoy the view from behind her.
That was the part that *had* changed.
Bedding her had been...a means to an end. A few moments of work for a besotted and, most importantly, loyal ally. It had never crossed his mind to question whether he found her attractive. His own sex drive had dwindled so violently over the years as to be non-existent. What was the point when his life was not his own.
Now...well. He'd begun to notice things. Things that sent a lance of heat through him out of nowhere, leaving him reeling every time.
Tav's throaty sighs when the buckles on her armour are released at the end of the day.
The shape of her lips, so perfectly formed and plush in her soft face. Perfect for sucking between his own.
The spread of her thick thighs around a foe's neck, dragging him to the ground with a trimphant cry.
That one has him half hard in his leathers for the rest of the day, desperate to be rid of her for a moment so he can deal with whatever the hell is happening to him.
"Did I do something?" Her voice actually startles him.
This is getting out of hand.
"Not everything is about you." He snipes, keeping his back turned. He really doesn't need to see the smear of blood across her skin, even if he can smell the copper tang through her usual sweetness. Even if his body is aching for it.
"Fine." She says, flatly. "Mope around then little vampire."
Astarion counts five endless seconds before he ducks inside his tent.
He's so hard it's painful, tugging roughly at his laces as he sinks to his knees. The ground is hard, but it barely registers as he grips himself tight, his other hand flying to his mouth to muffle the groan that escapes. Pleasure slices through him, tearing through his insides as he fucks into his fist and finally, finally gives in.
Her cheeks, her mouth, her fucking smile. How her ass would feel in his hands when he drags her, shaking and drenched, over his cock-
He spills over his hands and his clothes, heaving breaths between his fingers with wide eyes.
What the fuck just happened?
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whateveriwant · 4 months
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Hello, i hope you dont mind if i request agian! Could I get TF141 with an S/O who are just super prone to panic attack?
These are not meant to be taken as mental health advice. I'm just playing around here <3
Soap
The first time it happened, he didn't know what was going on. The sudden heavy breathing, the tremors, the loss of speech; he thought you were dying, honestly
It nearly sent him into a panic as he tried to figure out what he could do to help. Should you stay put or should you be taken to hospital? He just didn't know
However, once it had passed and you were able to better explain the situation, Soap was pulling you into a hug, the biggest breath of relief escaping him knowing you were going to be alright
He wasn't “happy” per se to learn this is something you struggle with regularly, but knowing there's at least something he could do to help in the future put his mind at ease
Nowadays he's got the drill down pat, so when he sees the signs an attack is incoming, he's whisking you to a safe environment where you can attempt to de-stress
Oftentimes it leads to him sitting beside you out on a curb somewhere, his warm hand rubbing soft circles into your back as he comforts you through it
Gaz
From the second he notices you start to pull away from him, Gaz is immediately on top of it, deploying a technique he's quite familiar with
“Tell me five things you can see,” he says, unbothered by having to repeat himself when you don't respond because he did not seriously just ask you that right now
But after enough prompting by him, you shakily list out five items, wet eyes darting around the room as you try to take stock of your surroundings
Once you do as bid, he'll continue, “Now four things you can hear.” And now you're starting to think you see where he's going with this
He'll work his way through all five senses, counting down to one, and once he reaches the final, you find that your pulse has slowed tremendously and your tremor has stopped entirely
Afterwards, you give him a shy thanks, asking how he knew that would work. “Simple,” he tells you. “Used to do it with my sister when we were young. It helped her then, so I thought it might help you now.”
Price
He takes the most heavy handed approach when trying to bring you down from such a rocky high. And while some people might find it smothering, you just see it as grounding
“Hey. Look at me,” his order is firm though his voice remains purposefully gentle. “Don't look anywhere else, just look at me. That's it. Just focus on me.”
If he has to, he'll even push a finger against your chin until you're meeting his eye and holding it, trying to focus on his soothing words instead of the anxious thoughts racing through your head
Slowly and deliberately, he'll breathe in through his nose then out through his mouth, guiding you to follow along with his measured pattern
If that's still not enough, he'll then take your hand beneath his and hold it over his heart, letting its strong, steady rhythm lull you back to a calmer state
“You alright?” he questions once you've settled down again. When you nod and assure him you are, he'll kiss your temple, promising, “I've got you, dear. Always.”
Ghost
When he realized what was happening with you, he quickly jumped into action, but in a way that was completely unexpected
“Remember when you first took me out for sushi and I didn't know wasabi was hot?” he asks you seemingly out of the blue. “Ate a whole spoonful before I realized. Burned like hell going down. But that was nothin’ compared to when it came out again later.”
The memory of that night stirs to life in your mind, and through your rapid breaths and trembling lips, you're able to crack the barest of smiles
He continues, “Or remember when I got sprayed by that skunk in the garden? You made me sleep on the couch for three days. Said I smelled like a garbage bin’s arsehole.”
That memory has you huffing out a short, low chuckle, and though you don't notice it, your pulse begins to hammer a little slower
And so he keeps going, distracting you with funny memories and personal anecdotes until all you're doing is smiling and laughing brightly, totally forgetting what had made you panic in the first place
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buryustogether · 10 months
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lilac - chapter 1
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miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.
wc: 6k
warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader
author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.
New York
Earth - 9193
Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.
You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.
Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.
Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.
She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.
Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”
Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”
Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”
As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.
Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.
You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.
Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.
You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.
“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.
You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?
“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”
He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”
Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”
Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”
His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”
Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”
Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”
“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”
“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”
“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”
Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.
On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.
You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents’ bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.
Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.
It was time to really work, now.
The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?
Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.
It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?
The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.
Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.
That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.
To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.
“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”
A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.
Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.
Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”
Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.
Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”
“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”
Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.
Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”
“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”
“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.
God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.
Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.
Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”
Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.
Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.
You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.
Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.
He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.
“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”
You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.
“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”
You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.
But he would stop just short.
“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”
“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”
He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”
“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”
He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.
The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.
“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”
“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”
He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.
All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”
“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”
His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”
“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”
“...My name’s not Miguel.”
Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.
You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”
It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.
At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.
Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.
After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.
You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.
You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.
Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.
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f1goat · 24 days
Text
more than friends ; lando norris + part three
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile
part one / part two
When you wake up, you feel something unfamiliar pressing on your ass. You wonder what it is. Did something strange happen last night what you can’t remember right now? It can’t be. Lando is pressed up against you. He’s still sleeping and letting out soft snores. It takes you a few seconds before it clicks. It’s Lando his boner that’s pressing against your ass. That must be it, right? Carefully you move a bit so you can grab your phone of the nightstand next to the bed. After grabbing your phone, you switch back to your earlier position. Lando his boner is still pressed up against your body. Is it weird that you kinda like that? Maybe it is. It’s probably weird.
Lando grunts softly. You realize that he’s also waking up. Do you need to adres this situation? You decide to stay silent first. Lando moves himself even closer towards you. He presses soft kisses against the crook of your neck. You shiver from his sudden touch. Yesterday night you asked yourself the same, but you still haven’t found your answer. Is this the new normal between Lando and you? Kissing each other good morning like this? Having even more physical contact then ever before? 
Lando and you have always been rather physical, but not like this. It’s not for nothing that Max jokes between things happening between you two or that a part of the formula one grid thinks that Lando and you are in a relationship instead of being just friends. But still, it hasn’t been like this. Of course there have always been hugs and laying closely on the coach together, or you sitting on Lando his lap was pretty normal - just like sleeping in the same bed, but things have never been sexual or included kisses. 
Eventually you turn yourself around to face Lando. He puts his arm around your body and pulls you almost on top of himself. You let your head rest on his chest, feeling yourself getting calm while listening to his heart beat. 
“Good morning babygirl,” Lando greets you with a raspy morning voice. 
“Hey,” you mumble back.
You feel Lando his member pressing against your stomach. It’s not making you feel uncomfortable, but it makes you mind wander off to all kinds of things. Should you ask him about it? You never noticed it when you slept over before. But now that you think of it, Lando was always wide awake before you. It happened many times that he already showered before you even woke up. And you weren’t that close with him back then, the two of you didn’t cuddle like this. 
Lando lets out a soft groan when he feels your body moving on top of him. He knows that his dick is hard right now, he can feel his boner throbbing and aching for your attention right now. He almost slaps himself. Why did he forget to set his alarm? Normally he always makes sure to wake up before you, exactly so he can stop you from finding things like this. It happened countless times that he thought about the most unattractive things, just to stop thinking about you and feeling turned on. He even needed a couple cold showers sometimes. 
“Want to get some breakfast?” Lando asks you. He really needs to get out of this bed and think about other things then the sounds you made for him last night. 
“Uh, yeah,” you reply softly, “That’s okay.”
Lando sees right trough you. “What are you thinking about?” He asks you with his same raspy voice as before. You can’t help yourself and find his raspy voice kinda hot. Oops? 
“Isn’t it uncomfortable?” You question almost so soft that Lando can’t hear your question. 
“What?” He asks you confused.
“You erm,” you stutter a bit before you get the words out, “your boner.”
Lando chuckles. “Nothing new,” he tells you without any shame, “a cold shower will help.”
You don’t think about your next words. “Maybe I can help?” You ask Lando. He stays silent at first, rethinking your words. Are you serious? Or are you only offering because he ‘helped’ you last night? Before he can make up his mind, you’re talking to him again. “I mean uh, I think I also need to learn this, right?” You question. 
“Do you want to?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes,” you reply quickly.
Lando lets out another soft chuckle. It almost looks like you’re eager to do it. He takes your hand into his own. Slowly he guides it towards to the area were his sweatpants are the most tight. Eventually he puts your hand right on his crotch. You move your hand around a bit to explore the way everything feels. Suddenly you feel his dick harden a bit more under your touch. It causes you to show Lando a small smile. In the meantime you continue your movements. With soft touches you explore Lando his hard member.
Eventually you wonder what to do next. “Can you uh, tell me what to do?” You ask Lando nervously after a bit of doubting. 
“Continue like this, but with a bit more pressure,” he instructs you. 
Why is your pussy clenching when he talks to you like this? Your stomach tightens when Lando instructs you. What is he doing to you?
You do exactly what Lando says. He is quick to reward you with a soft moan. It’s the first time you hear a sound like this from him and it’s doing even more to you. He doesn’t say something else, so you guess that what you’re doing is alright for now. 
“Can you grab it?” Lando asks you.
Without replying to his question you grab his boner. His sweatpants and briefs are still on, but you can properly feel him now. It feels nice in your hands. Without seeing his member you already imagine him fucking you with it. You also realize that he feels quite thick. 
“Stroke babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you.
Slowly you start to stroke Lando his dick. You make sure that your hand is wrapped around it properly. Lando lets out a hard moan when you grab his boner a bit more firm then before. You increase your pace in the mean time. 
“You’re a natural,” he tells you before pressing multiple kisses against your cheek. You move your head a bit so Lando can kiss you properly on the lips. Something he’s quick to do. When you open your lips for the tiniest bit, Lando is already begging for entrance. It doesn’t take long before your tongues are dancing around each other. While making out with Lando, you’re still focused on stroking his dick as good as you can. When you feel a soft vibration against your lips, you realize that it’s another moan from Lando. You pull back from the kiss. Lando is quick to let out a couple moans. He moans even more then before. You continue your movements proudly. 
“Fuck baby,” he groans.
You increase the pace of your movements again. Lando his dick is pulsing in your hand. It motivates you to grab him even tighter. Lando lets out another moan. This time even harder then before. It makes your pussy clench. It can’t be right that this does so much for you as well. 
You remember how your friends were always whining about having to do ‘stuff’ for their boyfriends, they never seemed to enjoy it. Always making remarks about having to do something before they earned something back. You can’t even imagine thinking about it like that. When Lando lets out another soft moan, you know for sure. You can do this for a long time before growing bored of it. Every time Lando moans you feel proud of yourself, but also feel yourself getting turned on as well. 
“Fuck Y/N,” Lando grunts.
Then you feel a bit of wetness through his sweatpants. Does that mean what you think it does? Did you make Lando cum? You slow down your movements and loosen you grip on his dick. You notices the way it softens a bit. Lando softly grabs your hand and moves it to his chest. 
“You’re sure you never did that before?” Lando asks you a bit surprised. He can’t imagine that you never did something like this before. Of course he has been worked up since he picked you up from that night with your friends. He haven’t spend much time thinking about anything else then you. But still. This hasn’t happened to him before.
You shake your head at his questions. Of course you have never done something like this before. You wonder where his question is coming from. “You’re a real natural,” Lando praises you. It makes your stomach tighten again. 
“Yeah?” You ask. You need to make sure that you heard him right. 
“I’ve never cum into my pants,” Lando confesses with a small smile, “so yeah, you’re really good at this babygirl.”
You smile. Lando pulls you on top of him. Of course he notices your happy smile. “You like hearing that?” He asks you. You look into Lando his eyes, you can never agree with yourself on which color they are. Sometimes you think green, other times blue. You don’t care what the exact color is, his eyes are one of your favorite things about him. You can actually lose yourself into them. Something that almost happens again, but Lando repeats his question. 
“Yeah,” you confess, “I like to hear that.”
“You know babygirl, I think you might have a praise kink,” Lando tells you without giving it a second thought. He is pretty sure about his own conclusion. Every time he praises you, you react to it. 
“What’s a kink?” You ask him innocently. 
“That’s a lesson that’s still pretty far away,” Lando reacts with a soft laugh. 
You grunt. This is the annoying Lando who has been your best friend forever and who you can never imagine to be not in your life.
“I’m going to google it,” you tell Lando, you turn yourself around and move away from him to grab your phone. Lando has you in his hold before you can grab your phone. He makes sure you’re laying on his chest again. “Google it when I’m gone,” he replies, “I’m going to Max after breakfast to go over some Quadrant things he can do when I’m gone.”
“Okay,” you sigh. You’re still curious about what it is. 
“And tell me about which kinks you want to explore after you Googled it,” Lando adds. 
You show him a confused look. He laughs softly. 
+++
“Y/N is joining you for the whole triple header?” Max asks confused. They have talked about every task that Max needs to do for Quadrant while Lando is busy with racing. Lando might have slipped and told his friend about you joining him for the triple header, not that it’s a secret but he knows it will cause questions. 
“Yeah,” Lando replies, “isn’t that great?”
“You’re going to share hotel rooms with her for three weeks?” Max continues to ask. Lando tells him a simple yes. “Lando you can’t tell me that there’s nothing going on between you two,” Max sighs annoyed, “You’re all touchy with each other yesterday with the lunch and now you’re going to share a bed for three weeks straight? You’re lying to me.”
“We’re friends,” Lando shrugs, “Just like we’ve always been.”
“Yeah but now you’re touching her all the time,” Max states, “and she’s joining you for three weeks. Normally you invite her to one race from a triple header, so you can have stupid one night stands that never make you forget about your feelings.”
“You’re attacking me,” Lando sighs to his friend, “I know I’m acting stupid, but this is better then those one night stands right?”
“Something changed between the two of you,” Max continues without reacting to Lando his words. “And it gave you hope that she returns your feelings. Or you already know that she does and you aren’t telling me that you two are dating.”
“As if,” Lando laughs, “if we we’re dating everyone would know. It’s not like I’m going to keep something like that a secret. If we’re dating I would make sure the whole world would know.”
Max sighs, “Okay I believe now that you aren’t dating, but there’s still something going on!”
Lando sighs as well. He does want to tell Max, but he told you earlier that he wouldn’t. He can’t make up his mind about it. Eventually he takes his phone out of his pocket and starts to text you. 
Lando: can I tell max?
Lando: please
Y/N: only if he never mentions it to me
Lando: deal! Ur the best
Y/N: simp
“Why don’t you tell her about your feelings?” Max asks him after a bit of silence, “I bet she feels the same.”
“Don’t,” Lando sighs, “I’m doing something that’s way more stupid, but maybe it’s my chance.”
“What are you doing then?” Max asks, “It can’t be good to talk about with no one.”
“I can tell you,” Lando confesses, “but you can never mention it to anyone else, including Y/N.”
“Deal,” Max quickly replies. 
“We’re having sex,” Lando blurts out. “Fuck no, not like that,” he quickly continues. Max shows him a confused look, this is probably not what he expected. “Uh, she was drunk and told me that she was still a virgin and that she was afraid that guys wouldn’t like that. But then I tried to tell her that they would probably like that, but she didn’t believe me. Then she said that she was going to find some random guy to lose her virginity to and get some experience, which I found the worst idea. So I kinda offered to help her to gain experience?” 
“Wait what?” Max asks confused.
“I’m helping her to be more confident about sex by giving her the experience, that’s it. We haven’t fucked, yet, but we’re exploring the other stuff..”
“You’re so fucking stupid,” Max states. 
“I know,” Lando exclaims, “but I really couldn’t think about her doing that with someone else.”
“How do you think this will end?” Max asks Lando, he doesn’t wait for an answer and continues to speak up. “This will only make you fall harder for her, if that’s even possible. You have this crush on her for years and now you’re going to fuck with her. Which will make your crush way worse. But you’re still to stubborn to tell her about that, so she will never know and will never tell you that she feels the same because she’s also fucking stubborn. And then you have made her more confident so she can find another boy more easily.”
“Do you think she’s going to find another boy?” Lando asks nervously. Max sighs, of course that’s the part his friend reacts to first.
“Lando, there are plenty boys who are interested in her,” Max states, “You know how many attention she always got when we went out together. It can’t be long before she starts to date someone.”
“But she never dated someone before,” Lando states.
“Yeah because apparently she was insecure about her sexual experience,” Max sighs annoyed, why doesn’t his friend get it? “And now you’re giving her that missing confidence, so she will probably date faster. So in the end, you’re fucking things up for yourself.”
“Fuuuuuck,” Lando almost yells when the realization hits him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts annoyed with himself. Why didn’t he think about this? Probably because the only thing doing his thinking lately is his dick instead of his brains. 
“You’re such an idiot,” Max states, “but maybe we can think about something that will fix this?” 
“Like what? I really fucked it up this time.”
“Like telling her about her feelings,” Max states.
“No!” Lando yells. “What if I lose her for good when I’m doing that? I rather have her in my life with another guy then not at all.”
+++
Lando is waiting in front of your apartment for you. He just carried your luggage down and loaded it into his car. He didn’t knew it would be this much, so his McLaren is fuller then ever before. It’s a good thing that he lives close to you. You were in the car with him, but then you reminded about something small that you forgot. So you’re getting it.
Lando almost laughs when you show up with a small stuffed animal and take your seat next to him. He shows you a small smile when you tell him that you can’t leave the stuffed animal alone for three weeks. Then it hits him. It isn’t just a stuffed animal. It’s the small white teddy bear he gave you many years ago. He can remember giving it to you after you were upset about having nothing to do on Valentines day. But that must be more then two years ago. Lando feels a warm feeling inside of him. He never knew that the stuffed animal was this important for you. 
“You still have that bear?” He asks you.
“Of course!” You exclaim, “You gave it to me. It’s my first Valentines present ever.”
“That’s cute,” Lando says. He makes a mental note to impress you this year with Valentines day. 
You watch outside the car windows. It’s a weird feeling to leave Monaco for three weeks straight. This night you will sleep at Lando his apartment, so you can leave to the airport together early in the morning. 
“Maybe we can finish that movie from yesterday?” Lando suggests.
“We might have to start again,” you confess, “I don’t even know anymore which movie we were watching.”
Lando chuckles, “Am I that distracting?” He asks you. 
“You’re becoming more distracting every day,” you sigh while looking at Lando. 
“In a good way?” He asks you.
“The best way.”
Later that night Lando and you are laying on the couch. The movie is boring. You feel your mind shift focus between the movie and Lando over and over again. Eventually you just stick with thinking about Lando. Certainly when his hand is laying closely to your ass.
“Did you Google..” Lando can’t even finish his question before you interrupt him.
“I want to know your kinks first before I embarrass myself,” you state.
Lando chuckles. “You don’t need to feel ashamed for any of them,” he tells you, “Everyone has different kinks.”
“Still, I first want to hear yours.”
“You don’t have to do anything with them if you don’t like it,” he tells you, “What we’re doing is focused on you, so don’t think you have to do something you’re not comfortable with.”
“Thanks Lan,” you say softly, to add power behind your words you press a soft kiss against his cheek. “But who knows, maybe we share some kinks,” you laugh. 
“I’m going straight in,” Lando confesses, “but I like to dominate, nothing too extreme but I do like to be the one in charge.”
You show him a small nod.
“I didn’t experience with it much,” he continues, “since not everyone is into it, which is fine, but I do want to explore it more one day.”
“Explore it with me,” you softly say. 
“Oh?” Lando asks you. He waits for you to explain yourself. 
“I uh,” you start, but you’re quick to stutter a bit before confessing what’s on your mind, “I think I’d like to uhm, be dominated.” 
Lando feels his dick harden when he hears your words. Fuck, this is everything he could wish for. He needs you for himself. How great would it be for the two of you to be together, officially, and explore things like this together? He already had a small feeling that there was a possibility that you’d like to be dominated, but he wasn’t sure. Hearing it makes him feel all kind of things. 
“Do you want to explore that together?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes,” you are quick to tell him. 
“I’ll add it to the teaching plan,” Lando jokes.
“More kinks?” You ask Lando. 
“Curious babygirl?” Lando asks you back. You can only nod. “There’s plenty I’d like to explore one day, but most of them are in line with the first one,” he explains.
“I think you were right about what you said earlier,” you tell Lando, “I do like it when you praise me.”
“When I praise you or when someone praises you?” Lando asks you, he can’t stop himself from asking that question. 
“I never noticed it before,” you confess, “So maybe just when you praise me?”
Lando almost lets out a moan from only hearing that. His dick is properly aching for your attention right now. 
“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters.
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kitkatscabinet · 5 months
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Soap, Suds and the Scouser
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John Price x MacTavish! reader
Summary: Due to shitty neglectful parents, Johnny's older sister had been forced to take him in and raise him as her own. As such, she's fiercely protective of him, not that he minds, at least not until she screams at his Captain.
Word count: 4.4k
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Johnny doesn’t remember much of his life before you. All he remembers is feeling cold, and not understanding love until you swept into his life. From the moment you had swept into his life the dull greys had morphed into an array of colours, his unrelenting loneliness and misery chased away by the light of your affection. 
He doesn’t have a ma and pa like most other kids, and sometimes they tease him for it but he doesn’t mind, because he’s got something better. His big sister is the coolest person in the whole world! You tuck him into bed and read him bedtime stories every night. If he’s been really good he even gets to visit the base where you work sometimes. (He doesn’t understand until he’s older why you suddenly retire from the coolest job ever.)
You never yelled at him and even seemed to get upset when he wouldn’t let you know he was hungry. He cried when you scolded him for that, begged you not to send him back to the house with the angry people who sometimes forgot to feed him. He’d been surprised when instead of getting mad at him you’d started to cry, squeezing him tightly against your chest until he wriggled to be let go. 
You hugged him much more after that, pulling him close whenever he was within reach and planting raspberries on his tummy while he shrieked in laughter. You keep it up even as he gets older and tries to escape from the kisses you’d pepper his face with.  
He was fourteen the first time he snapped at you for it and the way your face had fallen would forever be burned into his brain. You pull away a little after that and Johnny feels sick with guilt, he hugs you a lot more after that.
Later in his life when asked why he’d joined the military he’d answer without hesitation, that he wanted to be like his idol. He wanted to be like you, wanted to make you proud. In a way, he wants to live up to your legacy. As a child, he hadn’t realised just how much of your life and career you’d had to give up to take care of him. 
(You’d been on track for a promotion to lieutenant, and likely would have made captain in record time too.)
As you started to near 40 Johnny was determined to step up and take care of you for once. He makes it through selection easily, but to his surprise, you’d blown up at him. He can’t remember an instance where you’d been so furious at him, not even when he’d crashed his principal's car on a dare. 
It’s the first time in his life you end up not being on speaking terms and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t exactly leave the army, wouldn’t even if he could because finally, it feels like he has a purpose. The men in his unit instantly pick up on his sudden 180 in personality but any inquiries are instantly shut down with a glare. 
It’s the worst few months of his life, but he won’t apologise. He’s not a child anymore and he needs you to see that. He almost breaks when it’s time for his first deployment and you still aren’t on speaking terms, he’s been sleeping like shit and he misses you like a phantom limb. 
He ends up not needing to when you show up on base, with red-rimmed eyes and hollowed cheeks. Johnny crosses the distance and lets you pull him into a crushing hug, not paying any mind towards the odd stares they receive. 
“I’m sorry. Please be safe,” you whisper into the fabric of his uniform and Johnny doesn’t need you to elaborate. He doesn’t respond verbally, because there’s nothing else to be said, and simply squeezes you tighter against him for what will be the last time for a while. 
It’s hard to be away from you for so long, he’s never done it before and he’s teased relentlessly for how often he calls you. Johnny just laughs in their faces when they pout and complain when he gets your care packages, he has many emotions about your bond but shame is not one of them. 
When the plane lands on his home turf and the dust settles Johnny can’t wait to collapse into one of your hugs and he can practically taste your cooking and he wants to cry when he remembers he’ll have to wait another day. Only, when his boots hit the tarmac he only has to take a few steps before he sees you waiting for him, beaming grin as you open your arms. Dropping his bag, he closes the distance in a flash and he’s not ashamed when he pulls away and notices the wet spot he’s left on your shoulder. The next thing he notices is the uniform, his eyes widening and you laugh. 
“Now that I don’t have to look after a brat anymore I figured it was high time I became active duty again.” He can’t seem to reign in his shock, gawping like a fish and you frown in faux anger, “What? Think I’m too old to do the job? I could still put you in the ground Johnny.” The look in your eyes promises retribution if he doesn’t agree so he simply nods rapidly. 
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He’s twenty-two when he gains the moniker Soap, you laugh when he tells you and his smile drops when you won’t explain what’s so amusing. (No matter how much he asks around the base all he gets is amused laughter.)
It’s not until he’s twenty-three, riding the high of being selected for an elite task force and returning home after the shit show that was Verdansk that Soap starts to learn more about the imposing history of his sister. 
He doesn’t even make it to the debriefing room, still covered in grime when he spots you stalking towards him with concerning vigour, thunder on your face that usually indicated an impending ass-whooping. 
Preemptively Johnny backs up, mouth opening to apologise for whatever he’s done, only to freeze as you march straight past him and round on his captain. “You John Price?” Soap recognises the tone and decides it’s in his best interests to stay still and silent, Gaz is openly gawking though the mask makes it impossible to gauge Ghost’s reaction. 
His captain, in a terrifying show of no self-preservation skills, nods in a ‘who wants to know’ sort of manner, brow raised and arms crossed. 
“I dinnae ken who the fuck ye think ye are - ” Oh dear. Instantly Soap’s mind blue-screened, white noise ringing in his ears. Your accent only ever got that heavy when you were truly angry, when he zoned back in you were still yelling, arms flailing to enunciate your point that had very likely become very lost in translation to his starstruck teammates. “ - Irresponsible!” 
Your chest was heaving by the time you’d finished, perfect hair even a little dishevelled. “Laswell” you nodded your head in respect towards the woman, before smiling softly when you turned to Soap. 
“Johnny, bring your teammates over for dinner when you’re free.” It’s said kindly enough but Soap knows it’s not a suggestion. You pat him lovingly on the cheek before disappearing back down the hallway. 
When the shock fades and movement becomes a possible thing again, it takes some extra cajoling to get their captain’s attention and Soap is mortified that whatever his sister said, it had so profoundly shaken the unflappable man. 
Unable to hold anyone’s gaze, Soap marches forward, resolutely staring blankly at the floor. If he’d taken more than a few seconds to gauge his Captain’s reaction, it would have been abundantly clear his frozen state wasn’t one of perceived terror but arousal. 
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From the moment John Price bore witness to the fuming Scotswoman stalking towards him with the grace of an apex predator he knew he was fucked. You were an absolute vision, truth be told he barely registered the venomous words you were screaming at him, in front of his men no less. 
His dazed eyes flickering from your perfect pretty lips down to your tits, hips, thighs and back up. His brain was empty of all thoughts except for the stunning goddess and how you’d look sitting astride his lap, squeezing his cock as he mouthed at your -
He clears his suddenly dry throat, dilated pupils darting back up to flicker over your face once more as he desperately attempts to reel his focus back towards what you’re saying, to anything that’s not the aching erection begging to be freed from the confines of his tactical pants. 
Shifting his weight uncomfortably he watches as you pat Soap on the cheek lovingly, forlornly wishing that was him instead. Watching your ass sway with your departure, holding back the groan building in his throat. 
Vaguely Price was aware of the wide-eyed looks exchanged behind his back as he stomped towards his quarters, little mind was paid towards them however. His focus solely on reaching the privacy he needed, slamming the door shut with far more force than necessary as his other hand fumbled for his belt. He doesn’t bother with his pants beyond freeing his flushed cock, leaning back against the door with eyes closed to help better produce an image of your likeness in his mind to match the voice that still rang in his ears. 
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Although you weren’t in any capacity attached to the 141, couldn't be due to your conflict of interest, you still shared a base. It was large enough that logistically you should have been able to work without ever seeing any of the 141. Key words being should have, because all of a sudden John Price seemed to be everywhere you turned. 
At first you’d simply assumed he was just another man in power, irritated that you’d so thoroughly dressed him down in front of his men but John Price quickly proves you wrong. He brings you tea, hustles to hold doors open and more than once you’d walked into your office to find flowers. You want to think he’s just trying to get into your good graces, trying to smooth things over with one of his teammates siblings, the denial doesn’t last long. 
You try not to be so taken by his blatant courting attempts even if you are a little confused. Nobody has ever given you this much blatant effort and it makes you feel like a little girl with her first crush instead of the grown woman you are. 
It’s embarrassing, but it’s the most romantic, the most tender that you’ve been treated pretty much since you first took in Johnny. You’d given up on several potential relationships before they could even start over the years, not willing to let him suffer from any potential breakups. 
Still, when you arrive to your office at 4am to find a bouquet of sunflowers you can’t help the way your heart hammers relentlessly against your ribcage as if trying to escape, to jump out straight into the arms of John Price. 
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To Soap’s surprise, it’s his Captain who clears their schedule, getting on his sergeant’s case about the promised dinner he’d nearly forgotten about himself. When Johnny walks apprehensively through the front door of your home the anger is apparently gone and you greet them all eagerly, planting a kiss on his cheek as you ushered them all inside and towards the table. 
“Smells heavenly, thanks for having us lass” Price smiles charmingly, moving into the kitchen and swatting your hands away as he finishes setting the table and commanding the boys to help him, insisting that you sit and rest. 
Soap, who is still somehow unaware of his captain’s affections, feels like he’s entered a new dimension for a few seconds. The perceived tension he’d expected nowhere to be found, though he quickly decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, simply happy that everyone was getting along. 
(He’ll look back on this moment down the line and wonder how he was so blind.)
The food is great and you’ve even bought Soap’s favourite beer, something you don’t drink and Johnny lets himself relax as he witnesses you joke around with the team and even start to mother Gaz and Ghost.
“How is it you know Laswell?” Price asked, seemingly hanging on your every word as he sat down next to you on the couch. Soap paused his conversation with Gaz to listen in as all ears and eyes were suddenly on you, you’d always been notoriously quiet about anything to do with your career. 
“Classified” you smirked, laughing as Johnny groaned dramatically and slumped back down in his seat. “I will say we were both very young,” you look into the bottom of your glass with a nostalgic gaze, but there’s something on your face that looks far too close to the time he’d walked in on you- 
“Oh my god! You fucked Laswell!” He shrieked and Soap thought he could be forgiven for the girlish raise in pitch. Price choked on his bear, froth spilling from his nose as you reached for a washcloth to pat his shirt dry, the man having to bite back the groan at the feel of your hands against his chest. 
You don’t give a verbal response but you do turn back to Johnny with a mischievous grin whilst wiggling your eyebrows. When the situation calms a little you surprise him by volunteering even more information, “she was the one that started calling me Suds.”
There were a few seconds of silence as the information was processed before Kyle started to laugh, and Johnny frowned a little, “wait…” he trailed off, shooting you a somewhat betrayed look as you started to laugh too. 
“What was it you told me? They call you Soap cause you clean house? Na little brother, you’re named after me.” Johnny’s face was hysterical as he pouted, his teammates teasing him as laughter filled the house. 
At some point, you’d meandered outside as the boys had started to roughhouse after a game of cards had devolved into a lighthearted screaming match. You sat on the porch with closed eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the feel of the cool night air on your skin. 
A creak behind you alerts you to the presence of another, the wind carries the scent of scotch and cigars and you open one eye to watch as Price sits next to you. “Needed a break from the peanut gallery?” your brows raise in amusement as he huffs at your words, reaching for a smoke and placing the end in his mouth, hands patting down his pockets for a light when you gave silent confirmation that his actions were ok. 
You giggled a little as his frustration grew, reaching over with your own lighter, holding the flame out for him. “Cheers love,” his gravelly voice sent a shiver down your spine. His breath hitting the back of your hand and you watched slightly mesmerised as he inhaled the smoke. The conversation dwindled and you sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the company as your arm lightly brushed his jacket-clad one. 
Silently Price handed you the cigarette, and though you didn’t usually smoke you found yourself accepting, acutely aware of his deep blue eyes boring into the side of your face as your lips clasped around the filter.     
“Sorry for going off at ye earlier” you apologised, suddenly realising that you’d failed to do so. Continuing to stare straight ahead as you passed the smoke back his way, knuckles brushing against his slowly. 
“S’alright lass, you’re just looking out for what’s yours, it’s admirable really. Sexy too” he growled, voice a whisper on the wind. You’re not sure if the shiver that runs through your body is from his words or the cool night air. Regardless, you lean just a little bit closer into the captain’s warmth, a contented hum escaping your lips when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. 
You’re not ashamed to admit that over the past few weeks you’d been oogling the Captain, it was hard not to when the man flaunted his body so shamelessly in front of you. Looking, it quickly became apparent, was hardly comparable to touching and its impossible to ignore the way your body sings in delight at the feel of him against you. 
Up close you can better detect the hints of his cologne, spicy wooden undertones accentuated by the faint whiskey you can smell on his breath as it caresses your forehead. From any other man the scent of cigars and alcohol paired with the scratch of a beard aginst your ear as he leaned his head against yours would have been a turn off, but it was so quintessentially him, so John Price that you couldn’t help but love it. 
It’s the rusty squeak of the screen door, alerting you to the presence of another, that forces the two of you to part. Ghost, no, Simon, stands silently at the threshold, watching the scene before him with appraising eyes. 
“Johnny’s looking for you.” His words cause you to sigh, throwing an apologetic glance Price’s way before you all head back inside, brown and blue eyes boring into the back of your head. 
Your little brother ends up simply wanting to whine to you about how Kyle has to be cheating, it’s the only possible way the man could have won so consecutively. You want to throttle him for that, for so thoroughly cockblocking you, instead you settle for scuffing him over the back of the head and forcing him to help you with the dishes. 
You work together in practiced tandem, cooperating with silent ease the result of years attending to each others needs. It’s the first instance during the night that the two of you have a moment alone together and you allow yourself to enjoy the peace and monotony of the task, silence accompanied by the soft spray of water. 
“Been meaning to ask, what’s it that got you so barmy with the captain.” His words are lighthearted, teasing, though you can’t help the way your hands still suddenly as you were reminded of that day. You pull yourself together as quickly as possible but Johnny has already undoubtedly picked up on your sudden change in behaviour, the clinking of the ceramic plates in the sink alerting him to the fact your hands were shaking. Although Johnny’s not sure exactly what’s upset you, he’s aware that he has and quickly tries to backtrack but you cut him off, 
“He put my baby brother in what was very avoidable danger” you whispered, eyes never leaving the now sparkling clean plate you’d been scrubbing for the past fourty seconds. Johnny doesn’t answer the shaky confession, but he does bump his shoulder against yours, lightly pushing you out of the way and completely taking over the task. 
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Ever since the dinner at your house, something had shifted between you and Price. It was un unspoken tension, crackling through the air every time you so much as laid eyes upon one another, but one you both felt. 
Lingering gazes turned to light touches, fingers brushing against yours, large hands cupping your hips as he passed behind you and the like. It was driving you insane, every night you’d return to the sanctuary of your bed, fingers exploring the expanse of your body as you imagined it was Price touching you instead. 
The two of you were a powder keg waiting to explode, waiting for the single spark that would light the whole thing. It was an inevitable reality, and one you both knew was coming. You’re not sure who snaps first, what exactly lights the powder, though you find you care very little in the face of his lips against yours. 
You push him against the door of your bedroom, hands tugging at the roots of his hair as he lets out a sinful groan, only for you to swallow it with another open mouthed kiss. With one of your thighs between his legs and pushing against his thick erection, you grind frantically against his own muscled thigh. 
The drag of you’re already soaked cunt slowly drenches his pants as well, you’re so focused on planting kisses and bites down the skin of his neck and chest as you rip his top off that you barely notice the way his dilated gaze watches your every move. 
“Fuckin hell darlin, that’s it, take what you need baby.” He sounded wrecked, his words of encouragement causing your rhythm to falter as your hands continued to paw at his chest needily. As much as Price wanted to continue watching you use him to chase you’re own pleasure it would have to wait another time, at this moment he needed you now. 
A squeal leaves your lips as your back is suddenly on the mattress and Price tugs your pants and underwear down to your ankles in one aggressive move, his hands keeping your thighs spread as he stared intently at his prize. 
The groan that leaves his throat at the sight is guttural, the praise he mutters is nearly indistinguishable over the blood pounding in your ears as his tongue swipes over your swollen clit. John Price eats like a man starved, lavishing your thighs in bitemarks when his fingers replace his tongue. He makes you cum like that twice, your juices coating his beard and neck while you tug harshly on his hair. 
“Price please, s’too much, need you now” you sobbed, pulling him up into another bruising kiss and wrapping your shaky thighs around his waist to try and coax him to where you wanted him most. Any other day he’d probably tease you for being so needy but Price was just as aching with need as you, cock flushed and dripping as he lined himself up with your fluttering hole. 
“I know darlin’” he cooed, dipping his mouth down to place reassuring kisses over your chest as you finally stripped your top half bare. His left hand cups one of your tits, forhead resting against yours as he slid into you with one smooth thrust. The pace he sets is relentless, you’ve both been waiting for this moment for weeks. There’d be a time for tenderness later, but right now it was sheer animalistic need fuelling your movements. Your nails rake down his spine as he grunts, whines reaching a crescendo that lets him know you’re quickly approaching your climax once more. 
His own rhythm starts to falter, the sensation of your warm walls squeezing him so tightly nearly too much for him to bare. He refuses to cum first however, thumb swiping over your clit as he grumbles against your collarbone, “come on love, nearly there, be a good girl and cum for me yeah?” 
You are so worked up, so desperate to please the man bringing you such pleasure that you obey with a high pitched keen, thighs clamping his waist in a vice as your walls milk his cock. Price swears at the sensation, unable to pull out from how harshly you’’ve locked your ankles over his back and is filling your womb with thick ropes of cum before he can stop himself. 
Shaky arms unable to hold his weight up anymore collapse, though you don’t seem to mind, snuggling up to him and wrapping your arms around his houlders to keep him in place. He falls asleep tangled in your arms, face nuzzled into your neck as your fingers play gently with his hair. 
When Price wakes the next morning to an empty bed and cooling mattress he frowns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and lumbering out of your bedroom, still naked from the night before. He quickly finds you in the kitchen, standing at the counter wearing only panties with his shirt. 
Immediately the sight stirs something primal in him, chest rumbling with pleasure as he plasters himself to your back. You hum happily, turning your face so he can plant a gentle kiss on your lips. “Morning darlin.” His voice is still hoarse with sleep and you feel the way it rumbles through his bear chest against your back. 
“Morning” you let out a moan as he pressed his hard cock against you. Your head falls back to rest on his shoulder as one of his hands dips below the hem of your underwear, both of you sighing happily as his calloused fingers make contact with your still tender pussy. 
Any reprimands are banished from your brain at his touch, your worries evaporating into nothingness as the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit. Just as you’re about to cum there’s a screech from behind of “My eyes!” And you whirl around just in time to witness your little brother run face first into the wall behind him in his haste to escape. 
Johnny hits the floor with a heavy thud, hands still covering his face as he continues to scream about the atrocity he’s just witnessed. You think he might even be crying, whether from the pain or the visage of his captain’s bare arse you aren’t sure. 
You should be beyond mortified, and a large part of you is. Still, you can’t help the belly laugh that escapes you as your brain finally catches onto what’s just happened. Your legs collapse from under you as your own tears of laughter stream down your cheeks. Johnny’s also crying and writhing on the floor whilst Price looks to be contemplating murdering the both of you. 
Still giggling you manage to stand once more, pulling the captain down into another sweet kiss before spinning him around and ordering him to get dressed. You do give him a smack on the ass before he leaves though and the sound sets Soap off into a new cursing fit, one hand shaking an aggressive fist towards where he thinks his captain is while he keeps his eyes covered. 
While you’d have liked to have kept whatever it was you had with the Captain a secret for a little longer, liked to have kept him selfishly to yourself, you had to admit that scarring your little brother so badly was worth it. Though given the stink eye he relentlessly stared at Price with you’d probably have to give him a little more time to adjust. Even if unbeknownst to you, the wedding had already been planned out in the Englishman’s mind.
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Tags: @innercollectivecomputer @cooliofango @pertinentpostmortem @ghostslillady @domaniquessidehoe2 @ilovehyperfixating @pauphs @Skotchi @juvenillia
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valeskafics · 2 months
Text
"Hot For Teacher" - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Professor!Reader
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a/n: an anon request. i've never written this dynamic in particular before so i hope you enjoy it and i did justice to your request, nonnie! 🩷
Summary: Coryo is shocked to learn that his childhood crush is now his professor. Saying he's hot for teacher is the understatement of the century.
Word Count: 2,725
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: dubcon (power imbalance + coryo being a shady bitch), professor/student dynamic, older female/younger male, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, grinding/dry humping, oral f receiving, creepy behavior from coryo, blackmail, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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When Dr. Gaul wrote Coryo a glowing letter of recommendation, there was no doubt he’d be admitted into the Capitol’s University. He shows up on his first day of classes, bookbag in hand, eager to learn from the greatest minds the city has produced, ready to start his slow rise to power. The course he’s most interested in is, of course, History of Gamemaking. With all Dr. Gaul has taught him and everything he’s been privy to, he knows he’s certain to be at the top of the class. The professor’s name catches his eye.
Professor Dovecote.
He wonders if it’s Clemensia’s mother or father. His former friend came from a family of academics. Coryo thanks his lucky stars that no one beside him and the good doctor knows the true circumstances of Clemmie’s death. Otherwise, that could have made this semester quite awkward.
Coryo is surprised to see that there’s a sizable number of students lined up outside the lecture hall, almost as if they’re waiting to get into a concert or a club. He raises a brow, looking around until he hears a voice that sounds somewhat familiar as someone’s shoulder brushes past his.
“Okay, I need everyone to settle down. I only have five add codes to give out for this class if you aren’t enrolled, so if you really want one, come see me after I finish the lecture.”
Your voice makes his heart pound against his chest. There’s no way that it’s you. And yet, when he enters the classroom and glances over at your desk, there you are. Clemmie’s gorgeous older sister. The first crush he ever had. He remembers going over to the Dovecote house to study with his friend, how he’d see you hanging around with your Academy friends and your stupid revolving door of boyfriends. Okay, you had three. It wasn’t a lot, but he was jealous. Sue him.
Coryo rushes to get a seat in the front row, noticing the dirty looks some of the other students give him when he manages to get one of the coveted desks. It would appear that you’re quite the popular professor at the University. He takes a moment to admire you, how you look just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, if not more so. You’re wearing stilettos, a pencil skirt that hugs your hips snugly, and a white button-down blouse, displaying the slightest hint of cleavage. Your hair is pulled back off your face, revealing your sharp gaze, your full lips, pressed together in a thin line.
When the clock strikes ten, you immediately begin your lecture. And Coryo is, in a word, enthralled. You are so passionate about gamemaking and make the material you teach so engaging and so interesting. He scribbles his notes rapidly, not taking his eyes off of you, not wanting to miss a moment of your lecture. When you reach the end of the current slide, you have up, you decide to ask your students.
“So, can anyone tell me which Games first made use of Dr. Gaul’s muttations?”
It’s his time to shine. Coryo’s hand shoots straight into the air, before anyone else’s. And so, of course, you call on him.
“Yes, the blonde gentleman in the front row. What’s your name?”
“Coriolanus Snow, Professor,” he tells you with no little degree of pride. Your eyes come alight with recognition as you nod, and he knows you remember him. Your little sister’s friend, “The first Games to have muttations were the 10th. The Games where my mentee, Lucy Gray Baird from District 12, won.”
You give him a fleeting smile, “Well done, Mr. Snow. That is indeed correct. Now, since you are intimately familiar with the 10th Games, can you tell me which species Dr. Gaul released into the Arena?”
He answers without hesitation, barely managing to keep an idiotic smile from spreading across his face at your praise, “Venomous snakes, Professor.”
“Excellent.”
You continue with the lesson, giving a brief history on the muttations that have been developed for the 12th games, speaking excitedly about the new frontiers of science Dr. Gaul is exploring by doing such a thing. Coryo is, of course, already privy to most of the information on Gaul’s research, working as her assistant, but he can’t help resting his chin on his hand and listening to you speak, feeling almost like a lovestruck schoolgirl. It’s like he’s back in Clemmie’s family’s gameroom, poking his head out the door, desperate to get a peek at you.
As class comes to an end, you announce that the majority of yours students’ grades will be determined by how they fare on a project, one which they may select partners for.
“Since we have an odd number of students in this class, one of you will be working independently under my direct supervision. If you want to volunteer for that, see me after class.”
Of course he’s going to volunteer for that. He doesn’t want to work with any of these idiots anyway. And this way? He’ll have more chances and excuses to spend his time with you. He can see it now, the two of you sitting in your office side by side, working late nights researching, the tension between you growing to be too much until he finally pins you against your desk and kisses you-
“Alright, everyone, have a great weekend and shoot me an email with who you’ve chosen for your partner.”
Your voice snaps him from his reverie, and after your students who wanted add codes have left your desk, Coryo makes his move, sauntering over to you, clearing his throat to gain your attention.
“Coryo,” you greet with a fond smile, the sound of his nickname sounding so sweet as it falls from your lips, “I thought I saw your name on my roster. How are you?”
“I’m doing well,” he smiles back at you, hands clasped behind his back, “How are you? And your parents?”
“We still struggle with losing Clem, but we’re healing,” you tell him, placing your belongings in your purse, “So, congratulations on getting into the University. I remember you, Festus, and my sister rambling about it constantly.”
“Congratulations on becoming the University’s youngest professor,” Coryo replies, a smile playing on his lips, “I mean, you’re what… 26? That’s quite impressive.”
“Thank you. So,” you glance up at him, “Have you chosen your project partner yet? I think Festus is in this class-”
“I actually wanted to volunteer to work independently under your supervision,” Coryo quickly butts in, giving you his most charming smile, “If no one else has yet. I don’t particularly love group projects, so I would really rather just report to you and only you.”
“No problem,” you say simply, typing something into your computer, “We’ll just do weekly check-ins during my office hours and you can tell me how you’re getting along in your research. I’ll review your first and second draft, but beyond that, it’ll all be on you.”
Coryo nods, “Sure thing, Professor Dovecote.”
You give him a terse smile, grabbing your purse and making it clear that it’s time for him to leave so you can lock up the classroom, “Great, stop by my office hours if you have any questions or feel free to shoot me an email.”
He holds the door open as you leave, blurting out your name, "You look as beautiful as I remember, Professor Dovecote.”
You don’t acknowledge his words.
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Working with you is everything Coryo hoped it would be. He goes to every one of your office hours, spends as much time with you before and after class as possible, answers every one of your questions. And he knows you’re enjoying the attention. He can see the lingering glances you’ve started to give him, finally beginning to see him as more than your little sister’s friend. He can see the way you don’t balk at his touch when he leans in close under the guise of hearing you better. He can see the way your gaze flickers from his eyes to his lips every so often. Coryo wonders if you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you.
So, one day, late in your office, he takes a chance, leaning in to capture your lips with his own. You’re shocked at first, completely still, but after a few moments, you return the kiss, moaning softly as you rest your hands against his cheeks, allowing him to pull you into his lap. You pull away for a brief moment, your eyes hazy with lust as you gaze down at him. He can see you, trying to bring yourself back to reality, trying to remind yourself that this is wrong.
“We can’t,” you say breathlessly, “You’re my student.”
“Please, Professor,” Coryo gazes up at you, desperation in his gaze, “I need you so fucking bad. Please. Please let me taste you. Let me have you.”
Coryo’s fingers move to the buttons of your blouse, undoing them, his gaze greedily drinking in your full, round breasts, the way they strain against the white lace of your bra. Fuck, all he can think about his touching them, squeezing them. His cock strains against his pants as you grind yourself down against him. Coryo moves one hand along your back, up to your bra, unfastening it, watching as you bare your tits to him. He groans, immediately, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your soft flesh. Your fingers thread in his hair, nails raking against his scalp as you grind yourself against him. Coryo feels his balls tightening at the feel of your clothed pussy rubbing up against him, his free hand moving to caress your neglected breast, pinching at your sensitive bud, feeling it pebble beneath his touch.
“Fuck, Coryo, just like that,” you whisper, “Making me feel so good, baby…”
Ever eager to please, me holds your hip with his free hand, helping you move faster and faster against his cock, still suckling at you, squeezing your soft skin until he feels his stomach tighten and he spills himself in his pants with a loud cry of your name. You grind against him a while longer, the sensation making him whimper slightly, until you reach your own peak.
Coryo lifts you off of his lap, placing you on your desk. He pushes you to lay back, lifting your legs to dangle over his shoulders. His lips move up along your inner thigh, further and further until he reaches the apex between your thighs. He mouths at your soaked panties, his tongue tracing your slit over them, before moving them aside and wrapping his lips around your clit. He suckles at it eagerly, almost too intensely, your second climax building, your stomach going tight. He stares down at you all the while, admiring the way your chest heaves, those gorgeous tits of yours that fit so perfectly in his hands, as he continues sucking on your clit. He continues well after you spill yourself on his tongue, moving to lap at your folds, squeezing at your tits, wrenching another orgasm from you, leaving you a mess, laying back, gazing up at him like a deer in headlights.
As if awoken from a trance, you quickly move to pull your shirt back on, eyes wide as you realize the implications of what you’ve done.
“You need to go,” you blurt out, “Right now.”
Coryo bites back a smirk, running a hand through his hair before he nods, gathering his things, giving you one last glance before walking out of your office and calling, “See you in class, Professor Dovecote.”
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You take an early vacation, having a substitute take care of your lectures for the following week. Since you’ve never taken a day off in your teaching career thus far, no one thinks anything of it. You must just be stressed and need a bit of time to decompress.
Only Coryo knows the truth.
Which is why it terrifies you when, on your first day back, you receive a bouquet of white roses. You know, judging by the smug look on his face, that Coryo is the culprit. You get through your lecture somehow, frowning when he approaches you after class.
“Mr. Snow, I’m in a bit of a hurry-”
He glances back, making sure the room has emptied out before leaning in close, murmuring, “I’m so glad you’re back, Professor Dovecote.”
“You need to leave,” you tell him, the slight waver in your voice making him smirk, “You are my student, Coriolanus, this isn’t happening.”
“I liked it so much better when you called me ‘Coryo’ when you were grinding on my cock-”
You slap your hand over his mouth, glaring at him sharply when he grabs your wrist and kisses your palm.
“You need to go. You can’t do this. You can’t be here.”
“But I can,” he replies, kissing your forearm, all the way up to your shoulder, “I’m supposed to be studying under you for this project, aren’t I? You don’t want to neglect your duties as my professor, do you?”
“Stop,” you mutter, shame flooding through you at the memory of what you and Coryo did, “I’m sorry, it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that, it was a moment of weakness. I’ll ask for you to be transferred to another class-”
“No, you won’t,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear, “Because I have video footage of that night.”
His words make your blood run cold. Video footage. Your promising career as the University’s youngest and brightest professor, crashing and burning before your very eyes. All because you couldn’t control yourself. All because of a moment of weakness where you allowed yourself to act in a way you swore you never would.
He has you. His leverage on you could destroy you. You try to fake a brave face, glaring up at him.
“Aw, are you thinking of fighting me on this, Professor?” Coryo taunts, gripping your jaw in his hand, “Who do you think people will believe? Hm? You’re mine now, sweetheart. And you’d better fucking get used to it.”
Coryo kisses you again, teeth clashing against yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he lifts you up onto your desk. And you hate yourself for it, but your body reacts to him so viscerally that it’s almost humiliating. You rub your thighs together, moaning against his mouth as he tosses his jacket aside, moving your legs to wrap them around his waist, the feeling of your high heels digging into his back making him let out a lewd moan. 
He doesn’t even bother removing your clothes, nor your panties, rather he just pushes your skirt up and moves your underwear aside, his fingers toying with your wet pussy, making sure you’re nice and ready for him.
“Coryo, fuck, quit teasing,” you manage through gritted teeth, wanting to maintain some semblance of control over the situation, “Just fuck me already.”
He laughs, palming at his cock with his free hand, undoing his trousers just enough to bare his length to you. He tugs at it once, twice, groaning at the feeling, before burying himself deep inside you. Your head falls forward against his chestl as he ruts into you over and over, your hands threading in his hair, tugging as you buck your hips against his, feeling every vein, every ridge of his cock against your walls as he slams into you repeatedly. He moves to hold you by the waist, lips finding yours again in a violent, bruising kiss, one that has both of you battling for dominance.
“Feel so fucking good around me,” he murmurs, eyes rolling back as you squeeze around him, “Fuck, so fucking good, Professor.”
“Come on, Coryo, fuck me harder,” you demand, tugging on his hair, the slight ache maching him moan, “Come on.”
He quickens his pace, hips pistoning against yours, sweat beading at his temples as he chases his high, your walls fluttering around him as both of you near your respective climaxes.
As he spills himself inside you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, moaning as you soak his cock, he whispers, “See you in class tomorrow, Professor Dovecote.”
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816 notes · View notes
maybankswhore · 8 months
Text
𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄.
summary: even though jj refuses to admit his feelings for you— he doesn’t want anyone else to have you.
warnings: cursing
prompt: “why are you mad?” “i’m not mad , i just think you can choose better people to kiss.”
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The dynamic between you and JJ was undoubtedly strange. You’d two hold hands , hug for longer than ‘friendly’ hugs usually went for , have sleepovers where you’d cuddle and kiss his cheek. It was like a relationship without the title and without the kissing and sappy lover girl esqe commitment.
But it started to get hurtful. To be the girl that was always there , the only girl that was ever there , and still be seen as nothing more than just a friend. God , how you absolutely hated using the word ‘friend.’
There was hookup after hookup , one after the other. JJ would tell you all about them , seeing nothing wrong in confiding his deepest thoughts with his ‘best friend.’ It was harmless in his mind. If you were too hook up with anyone , he’d want to hear about it. I mean— it’s not like there were guys lining up for you at the door. You were stagnant and clearly into JJ so most guys didn’t bother trying. So while JJ figured he’d be okay with hearing about it— it turned out to make him feel the complete opposite.
All four Pogue’s were sitting around the fire in John B’s backyard as you sat there bashfully , remembering your work shift earlier that morning.
It had started like any other day— the same old faces that come for the same old cup of coffee. Some were a bit less frequent and the tips were all in the same. Business wasn’t necessarily ‘booming’ but it was a moderately profitable day. Today had seemed like any other day— until it wasn’t.
A boy who was not much older than you were had walked in and you swore your heart stopped. There wasn’t many people you looked twice at , beings that you suffered with the cruelty of unrequited love. But this one had made you look twice. His hair was shaggy brown , stopping right above his eyebrows. His green eyes seemed kind , the minute he had mumbled ‘hello’ to you.
You were surprised he asked for your number. The banter between the two of you , and how charming he was seemed to brighten your morning just a bit— and since JJ hadn’t seemed to be confessing his undying love for you any time soon , it seemed to be the right time to try and put yourself out there.
“No way you actually gave some random guy your number.” JJ scoffed from the side of you. He wasn’t sure why hearing you talk about another guy that way made him feel so. . . mad. Sure he cared about you , but never really paid attention to what kind of care it was. He always chalked it up to knowing you his whole life , declaring you his bestfriend for life. But watching the way your eyes danced amongst the flame with a certain girlish glow , his heart beat faster than he had ever felt before.
You rolled your eyes. “Okay and? It’s not like you don’t give out your number at every boneyard party.” You defended yourself.
“She’s right.” Pope pointed at her.
“Yeah I think it’s sweet.” Kiara gushed , hyping it up more than it really was. She knew JJ had a crush on you— anyone with two eyes could see that. He was just too stupid to bother realizing it. “It’ll be like those movies where the girl falls for the guy from the coffee shop.” She placed a hand on her heart dramatically. “That’s like , super romantic.”
“I know!” You sighed dreamily. You had always been such a romantic. Reading , writing , watching it. Those silly little cliche book plots coming to life.
JJ rolled his eyes. “It’s not that romantic.”
“Why’re you being such a hater right now?” You asked JJ , crossing your arms over your chest annoyed. “You should be happy for me! Stuff like this never happens to me.”
JJ began to think back over the years before realizing that you were right. You were always with him or the other Pogue’s and when there were parties , he’d find some girl to mess around with somewhere before finding you so you two could go home together like you always had. He hadn’t remembered the last time you even talked about liking someone. His chest began to ache at that— feeling bad. Of course he wanted romantic stuff to happen for you so why did he feel so defensive about it? Sighing , he shook his head of the confusing feelings. “You’re right , I’m sorry. What was his name?”
He swallowed down whatever he thought he was feeling , doing what he did best ; ignoring the problem until it eventually went away. Because he couldn’t think of you like that. . . The two of you were just friends. You always had been— right?
John B and Pope shared a knowing look. You smiled obliviously and continued.
“Nate.”
“Nate?” John B asked with his face turning red.
“Yeah?”
“As in Nate Montero?” Pope pressed further.
JJ shifted in his seat uncomfortably , looking at you. “As in the guy who cut my hair in Kindergarten?!”
You covered your mouth as you gasped , remembering how much JJ had cried because some kid on the playground cut a chunk of his hair off. The name did seem familiar to you at the time but you hadn’t even remembered then. JJ’s face was scrunched up with disgust while the Pogue’s doubled over into laughter. How ironic.
“It was a long time ago!” You groaned.
“I don’t give a shit! That little bastard cut my hair. The hair I had been growing for years.” He threw his hands up in the air. “You can’t go out with him.” JJ said immediately with his nose turned in the air.
“Oh yes I can.”
JJ raised his eyebrows at you , taken aback by the seriousness in your voice. Something bubbled inside of him— something he couldn’t quite figure out. Whatever it was , though , he didn’t like it. “That’s like a betrayal!” He said after a few seconds.
“John B literally dates Sarah Cameron!” You pointed out , giving him a soft smile of apology when he shot you a look. “Sorry but it’s true.”
“She isn’t wrong.” Kiara chirped up.
“You’re literally friends now!” Scoffed John B.
“Yeah— now.” You pointed out. “But at first there was hella beef that was deeper than getting your hair snipped in Kindergarten.”
John B groaned. “Can we not bring me up into this? This is between you and JJ.”
“There’s nothing between me and JJ—” you ignored the way your stomach began to hurt at that. The words only fueling your desire to see the guy , Noah , from the coffee shop again. “I’m seeing him.”
“Y/N this conversation isn’t over!” JJ called after you once you picked up your beer can and started walking towards the house. You didn’t bother looking back , throwing him the middle finger as you disappeared behind the doors.
JJ’s eyes turned to slits and looked at the Pogue’s with an annoyed expression. “Can you believe her?”
“Believe what? That she finally finds a guy attractive other than you?” Kiara folded her arms across her chest. “If you aren’t going to be with her then let someone else who wants to be and be happy for her.”
JJ furrowed his eyebrows at Kiara. He glanced at Pope and John B before looking back at her. “Y/N/N does not find me attractive.” He waved her off.
“Oh please.” Pope muttered under his breath.
“I say we just let this play out.” John B stretched out with a yawn.
“This could end badly—” Pope pointed out.
“Or JJ will finally get his head out of his ass.” Kiara snorted.
JJ stood up in front the Pogue’s with an uneasy look. “I don’t know what you’re all talking about but the only way this ends badly is if Y/N decides to go ahead with that guy. He’s bad news.” He huffed , running back into the Chateau.
“He’s so jealous.” John B smirked while shaking his head.
“Very.”
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It had been very tense between the two of you. You were so mad at him for thinking he had any right to tell you who you could or couldn’t date— especially after years of pining after him , and watching him go through girl after girl without so much as glancing your way. You weren’t going to keep hoping for someone to look at you anymore.
Nate had texted you to meet up and you did. It was a nice date , nothing too fancy or mind blowing. Just a simple date. One that ended in a small goodbye kiss on John B’s front porch— the place you normally stayed on on the weekends when your parents were out and about , barely thinking twice about you.
You were glimmering when you walked back in. You figured the Pogue’s would be in the backyard like they always were , so you breezed past the living room and into the kitchen for a glass of water. Your thoughts were everywhere because you did like Nate , and the kiss left you breathless— but it wasn’t like what you thought it would be. Though , none of the past kisses ever were. There was always something missing , making you rethink them.
“Oh so the traitor is back.” JJ strolled into the kitchen without looking at you , his tone hard.
This had been the first time in the past two days he bothered talking to you. You figured he was just pissy you decided to go out with Nate after all , despite the silly Kindergarten incident.
“Why are you mad?” You put down your water bottle and stepped in front of him so he couldn’t look away from you.
“I’m not mad. I just think you could choose better people to kiss.” JJ said. His fingers dancing towards the side of her face.
You felt your breath catch in your throat. Pulling your face away from his hand , you sighed. “If this is about what happened in fricking Kindergarten—”
JJ grabbed your face in his hands , your cheeks hollowing out between your teeth as he did so. You looked at him through fluttering eyelashes , your cheeks burning up. “This isn’t about what happened.” He murmured to you.
This whole conversation had him thinking. That feeling he was feeling— it wouldn’t go away. He had tossed and turned all night that night because his stomach was so sick thinking about you with someone else. He didn’t know why it never occurred to him that you’d eventually find someone else. He didn’t know why he wasted away all this time being with girls who didn’t mean anything. JJ wanted to kiss you. And to hold you like more than a friend. He didn’t want you with Nate— or with anyone. And he felt so bad about never realizing it , and always pushing away those feelings you’d make him feel because he was scared to lose you.
But he couldn’t lose you to someone else.
“I don’t want you to kiss Nate. . .” JJ breathed , inching closer to your face. Your eyes were wide with shock as you watched him , your heart beating crazily in your chest. He still held your face in her hands , watching your reaction to his words. He only hoped that you’d want to kiss him back.
“JJ—” you mumbled. “What’re you—”
“I want to kiss you.” JJ told you , swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Only if you’ll kiss me.”
Your heart began to race as you studied JJ’s face. The crush that you had buried inside of you for years was bursting in your chest , making friends with the butterflies in your stomach. Your mouth went dry as you looked at him. JJ left go of the hold he had on you to simply cup your cheek.
“JJ don’t be mean.” You whispered. “If you’re doing this just because I went out with Nate—”
“This isn’t because of Nate.” JJ cut you off. “Not completely , anyway. It was at the beginning but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. His hands on you.” His left hand slithered down to your waist , snaking around it. “Your lips on his.” His other hand pulled at your bottom lip again. “I got jealous.”
You stared at stunned. “Jealous?”
“I think I like you , Y/N.” JJ sighed to himself , looking at you sweetly. “And I think I’ve always known but I just ignored thinking it would go away.”
You swallowed thickly looking up at him. “Did it?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It didn’t.”
“Then. . .” you took a deep breath and stood taller , clearing your throat to sound more confident. “Then I think I want you to kiss me.”
With wild eyes , JJ was treading a line he wasn’t sure it was safe to cross. But the way his heart burned inside of his chest , his ears ringing and pulse getting faster— it would be worth whatever outcome if it meant he got to feel what it was like to kiss you. JJ got closer to you , so close that you felt his breath fan your face. “Do you think or do you know?”
Quietly you weighed your options in your head. There were so many things going through your mind , telling you a million different things. But the way you felt was telling you to kiss him. Finally. After all this time— you wanted to make him wait it out like you had for so long. But you couldn’t control yourself. “I know.” You took the initiative to connect your lips to his , tired of this waiting game. It was either now or never.
He kissed you back immediately. His hands finding home around your waist. His knees felt weak and your heart felt mushy. As your head tilted to the side , a sense of relief fell over you. This was it. This was why no other kiss had ever compared or felt like it mattered. Because it was JJ , it was always JJ.
He was your missing piece to it all.
JJ was the first to pull away , breathless. He felt crazed as he looked at you with eyes wild. Nothing had ever felt like this with him— no other girl could ever compare to you.
“Like I said. . . this ended badly!” Pope bursted out , practically falling out into the kitchen. Kiara and John B rolled their eyes at him.
“Finally!” Kiara groaned. “I was so sick of the sappy back and forth shit.”
“I for one , agree.”
You hid your face in your hands embarrassed while JJ smirked triumphantly. “I have a full head of hair and I got the girl.”
“I hate you.”
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thesuperiorrobin · 4 months
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𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝~
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❥Pairing: Damian Wayne/Robin x Fem!Reader
❥Word count: 500
❥Warning: Description of being stood up but not on purpose.
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During his nightly patrol, Damian could not help but feel like he was forgetting something. In the back of his mind, there was just something he could not remember, and he tried for his brain to remember something. But with you his duties in protecting the city, he pushes it aside for a bit until he reaches home. But it’s not until he visits you, bloodshed eyes, tear-stained cheeks, all dressed up for a special occasion that it starts to hit him after some time. When he first saw your appearance he was worried, asking you what the matter was.
“He stood me up” you sobbed, running into his arms as you clutched his black and yellow torn cape roughly “Damian stood me up!”
His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach as he hugged you back gently, frowning at the sight in front of him. You two are sat on the ground, thighs, and knees touching each other. Nothing but the sound of your sniffles could be heard and the soft whispering coming from both of you.
Months of talking to Damian, as he’s dressed in his Robin suit, having no idea that you’re talking about him right in front of his face without realizing gave him a new feeling. And explaining to Vigilant how much you like the boy who sits right next to you in most of your classes. Swooning over about how much of a helpful person he is despite others saying he isn’t—and it’s true, he’ll only help you. He won you over and you did the same without realizing it. You hold his heart right in the palm of your hands.
“I’m so stupid” he hears you whisper, letting out a breathy laugh “Stupid to think he actually liked me” he watches as you bring your knees up to your chest, hiding your face. Damian glances down at your form behind his green mask. He feels hurt—don’t get him wrong having people cry because of his doing gives him a sense of satisfaction. He’ll laugh and tease at those who shed tears—but when it comes to you, apparently being his first school crush. It’s a different story. He’ll hunt down anyone who makes you cry or feel insecure and in this case, he’ll have to hunt down himself.
Mentally, he beats himself up as he tries to watch the girl he had his eye on cry beside him, sobbing about his mistake that hurt her. He screwed up.
“I should have listened to the others when they told me it was just some stupid prank” you sniffle, chin propped up on your knees. “Rich boys have no hearts”
“It would have been he simply had just forgotten?” He tries to come up with something, but you just chuckle dryly looking up at the masked boy with sad eyes.
“Damian doesn't forget” you mumble “It’s a shame though. I really did like him” Your tears have stopped, nothing but the stained streaks down your cheeks left behind, your eyelashes seem to be longer than before and your eyes are a bit puffy. You blink once more and a single tear rolls down your face. Damian can only sigh, gloved hand coming up to whip it away
“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding”
“I really hope it is”
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A/N: Sorry I've been gone for like two weeks, I just need some time to myself bc I've been really drained for no reason. On top of that, I have finals, out of six classes I only have like two that I actually have to show up and study for so it'll probably take some time to post again, but I'll try to post as much as possible.
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