Tumgik
#please enjoy my stupid little edit
danthropologie · 1 year
Note
Seb, Daniel and Max are like the Redbull holy trinity. They’re Christian’s golden boys. Kinda like the power puff girls if you really think about it-
the power puff girls you say-
Tumblr media
65 notes · View notes
sunnami · 3 months
Text
❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞
Tumblr media
summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.
pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)
tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.
note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.
Tumblr media
“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 
You blink. 
“Get the fuck out of my room!” 
Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 
At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 
“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 
“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 
“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 
You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 
“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 
You slam his head against the wall.
Definitely the wrong thing to say. 
Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 
“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  
Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 
“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 
“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 
Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 
(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 
“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 
“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 
Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 
You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 
You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 
Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 
Tumblr media
ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)
“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 
Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  
“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 
(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 
You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 
Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 
Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 
“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 
“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 
Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 
“I know.” Harry grins. 
“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 
“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 
You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 
(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  
The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 
You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 
“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 
“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 
You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”
James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 
“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 
“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”
(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 
Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 
James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 
Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 
“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 
“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 
“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 
“Oi!” 
Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 
James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 
“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 
“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 
(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 
“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 
“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 
Harry wants to barf, actually.
After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.
“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.
“Away from you, Potter!” 
And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”
Harry chortles.
“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 
He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 
“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”
It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 
“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 
“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 
James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”
Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 
Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 
Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 
“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 
Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 
Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 
“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 
“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 
“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 
“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 
Harry’s eye twitches. 
Tumblr media
IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 
Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 
Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”
You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 
The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 
Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 
James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 
“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 
“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 
“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 
“In your dreams!” You shrill. 
You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 
Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 
“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 
“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 
Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 
“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 
Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 
Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 
“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 
You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 
Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 
“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 
To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 
“One date, then.” 
You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 
Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 
“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 
“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 
“And I want to—” 
“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 
You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 
“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  
“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 
“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 
“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 
“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 
“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 
“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.
(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 
“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 
“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 
“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 
“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 
“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 
(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 
“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 
“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”
Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 
He falls in love.) 
Tumblr media
FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.
“Oi.” 
The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 
“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 
Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 
You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 
Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 
Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.
She stiffens.
Oh.
part two
4K notes · View notes
oceansblvds · 4 months
Text
closer ; coriolanus snow
Tumblr media
pairing ; coriolanus snow x reader
words ; 3.4k
about ; you and coriolanus have never exactly gotten along, and all of that boils over at a party you're hosting. based off of this request.
warning(s) ; smut, fingering, p in v sex, not edited, mentions of choking someone out (lol)
authors note ; please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :) kinda got carried away with this one.
Tumblr media
Coriolanus was, for lack of a better word, obsessive. 
He was obsessive in the things that he did, the people he saw, the way he dressed, he was obsessive to the point that anyone who had even a glance as to what he was thinking would think that he was insane. It was no way to live, but the spiny, tingly feeling that rose up his spine when he felt the obsession for yet another thing growing was enough to keep him tethered in his ways. He’s a reserved, meticulous man who never let himself be seen as anything other than such, no one had ever seen him make one mistake, not since he was a young child. He was erratic, cold and calculated all at the same time. He didn’t like when things didn’t go his way, and he certainly didn’t like when he felt that someone was trying to best him. 
And that’s what you seemed to do, try to best him. All the time, you would walk into a room and all eyes would turn to you instead of him. You always had a way with your words, speaking to the hearts of people and reminding them that you were the Academy’s darling. It made him sick to his stomach, the knot twisting into a more convoluted mess within his gut until he wanted to throw up what little he had to eat that day. He had never felt this way about someone before, whatever it was, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. With you, he felt as if he had no control. With you, people didn’t fall under his spell. 
The party bustled all around, the lavish hall that it was situated in being filled with the noises of mentors and peers alike, all in celebration for the next Hunger Games. It was at your house, which pained Coriolanus, but made sense. You were always looking to help out, and it seemed to be the perfect opportunity for the Dean to ask if you and your family would host this gathering. You considered it done the moment it was asked of you, all you had to do was ask your parents for the money and for the time and you organized the whole thing. It was going perfectly. Many people came up to you, chiding about how wonderful the party was, how they hoped that they would get some of the appetizing leftovers from the snack table. You gave smiles, your laughter filling up the space that Coriolanus could hear, wanting nothing more than to smack you silly, to prove that you were not better than him. 
It was stupid, really, considering you had done nothing to prove that you were trying to humiliate him. It was all twisted in his mind. And he was determined to make things right, whatever that meant. 
He made his way to you, dressed in a pressed white dress shirt and black slacks, accenting his long legs, his usually curled hair pressed back only a bit in a styled fashion. He was handsome, there was no denying it. Your eyes met his blue ones, almost being enveloped in the sea of them as he made his way further. 
“Well then, if it isn’t the Academy’s darling,” Coriolanus said, his tone nothing but authoritative, as if he was trying to make you feel uncomfortable. You were used to his slight jabs, the way that he always seemed to want to push your buttons. You paid it no mind, not letting him have the satisfaction. “How much of daddy’s money did you have to spend to pull this off?” 
You rolled your eyes, pearled white teeth biting your tongue as you chose your words carefully. “Coriolanus, do tell me, is it your mission in life to be a thorn in my side?” A playful jab, something that you could easily spin out as being a tease if the wrong person was to hear. After all, you wouldn’t want your reputation to tank over one encounter. That was the thing about the Academy, always somewhere there was someone watching, listening. You were never alone. 
Thorns. They reminded him of his Grandma’am’s roses, how the things would get caught in your skin if you weren’t careful enough. There had been many times where he had cut himself on the barbs, the tip digging into the thin layer of his hand and drawing blood when he had gone to cut one for his outfit. He thought to himself how he wanted to be a thorn in your side, how he wanted to poke and prod at you until he drew blood, to see your perfect image falter under his touch. He chuckled at your words, the crease lines of his smile oh so evident as you looked at his stupid, perfect face. He leaned in, the smell of roses enveloping the two of you, his face almost disastrously close to your own. 
“Do you want me to be?” 
You scoffed. “Being crass now?” 
Of course, of course you dealt your hand in the same way that you always did. He would put himself out there, trying to get a rouse out of you, and you wouldn’t bite at the bait. You would simply leave him there, to play with himself, and it was so infuriating. For once, just once, he wished that he would see that perfectness in your stature falter. He wanted to see you ruined, whether or not he was the person to do it. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that he had to be the one to ruin you. You were his, whether you knew it or not. 
You walked away from him, spinning on your perfect heels and making your way to a door, opening it and closing. It was the bathroom, one of many in your house but the one that was most accessible to the party. You needed a moment alone, to freshen up, to get Coriolanus out of your mind. This was your party, he wasn’t just going to ruin it like this by using all of his stupid words. Your hand went to your forehead, pushing some of the strands that had fallen from your perfectly styled hair back to their place, leaning in and scanning your face in the mirror for any other mistakes on your clear skin. Just as you were about to turn and make your way out, you watched as the door opened and closed just as quickly, Coriolanus standing there with his back to the door. You heard the familiar click of the lock, and the way that he looked at you made you shiver. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him, moving to grab the handle but was quickly swatted away by his hand. You looked up at him, the height difference palpable, despite the heels you had on. He was so much bigger than you, he could easily overpower any move that you tried to make. “Let me through, Snow, this isn’t funny.” 
“No.” 
Your eyes squinted. “No?” 
“You know, for someone who spends hours in front of the mirror, you’re not fooling anyone,” Coriolanus said. He took a step forward, which didn’t really make such a difference in the long run. This was a big bathroom, if you really wanted you could've had a party in here with a sizable guest list. Still, you took a step backwards, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you. 
“What’s your problem, Coriolanus?” 
“You’re my problem,” He breathed out. “Always pretending to be so damn perfect.” 
You laughed. “Well, not everyone can embrace mediocrity as effortlessly as you do.” A low blow, something you knew would get under his skin and rile him up. And it seemed to do just that, because you could see his jaw clench, perfect facade that he had seemed to falter. You had caught him off guard, he hadn’t expected you to bite back with such a fiery attitude. But maybe you had just had enough of all his button pushing, of all his mindless teasing and hating on you for what seemed like no reason. You wanted to make him uncomfortable, make him know how much you loathed him. So you continued, “Jealous much? Can’t handle the fact that I outshine you without even trying?” 
Coriolanus was walking towards you before you even had a chance to move out of the way, his large body caging you in between himself and the marble counter. His hand went to your jaw, the contact of his fingertip on your skin making you heat up, a small fire burning in your chest. His grip was so hard that you were sure that it would leave a bruise. Your eyes widened, pupils blown out from the contact. You hadn’t expected for him to do this, you hated how much you liked it. How you wondered if he was this rough when he was doing other things. 
He didn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly liking the way that your doe eyes widened and looked at him, like you were a deer caught in the headlights. But his mouth opened, “You don’t know anything about me.” 
Which was, for the record, very true. You didn’t know anything about Coriolanus Snow because he seemed so keen on keeping things a secret. You didn’t know about his home life, the only thing you knew about him was what he was showing to you now, that he had a dark side that was starting to leak out of the cracks of his perfected persona. You gave a smile, a vile, venomous one that was meant to catch him off guard. “Yeah? So tell me, Coriolanus Snow, what don’t I know? Please, enlighten me.” 
He wished that you would just shut the fuck up. He wanted to put his hand around your throat and choke you until you lost consciousness, so that he could feel like he would be rid of all the sickening thoughts about you for just one moment. He thought about leaving right now, leaving while he still had some dignity left. But Coriolanus was not one to back down from a challenge, and he certainly wasn’t one to lose the upper hand. He was in control, he had to keep his control. There was no way in hell that he would let you think differently. 
The way he kissed you was bruising, like he was trying to make a mark on you forever. His teeth grazed against your lips, biting and nipping enough to almost draw blood. Coriolanus was all consuming, His one hand staying on your jaw while the other one came to wrap around your throat, disregarding his earlier thoughts and instead only squeezing a little bit, pulling you closer to him. His hips pushed into your own, you could feel his bulge through his trousers, a smirk fell on your face before he was quick to wipe it off by pushing you so much into the counter that you jumped on top of it, opening your legs and allowing him to slot in between them. 
Your hands came and wrapped in his hair, pulling on the locks of goldenness that you had only fantasized before in your dreams. They were soft, just like you imagined, and the way that you pulled on them had him groaning into your mouth, his lips leaving yours to kiss harshly against your jawline, down your neck, and onto the part of your collarbone that was exposed from your dress shirt. Teeth pressing against the soft skin that connected your jaw to your neck. You sighed out, hands moving down to his torso and surrendering into his touch as if saying do anything to me, anything you’d like.
And he did, because the second he heard that sigh come from your pretty pink lips he was determined to explore every part that he could of your body. He paid extra attention to your neck, sucking just under your chin, earning a soft moan on your part at the feeling. Your hips pressed against his and each of you breathed out, liking that feeling more than anything in the world. You hated how pliant you were in his hands, something you never thought would happen in a million years with Coriolanus Snow. And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, instead pulling his head closer to your body and allowing for one of his hands to slip under your dress shirt, palm pressing against your left breast. He liked you like this, so perfectly obedient and compliant. He was going to enjoy ruining you. 
His hands pushed your pants down along with your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt insecure, instinctually closing your legs away from him. He tutted, shaking his head and taking both of his hands to spread your legs open in front of him. He stood there looking at the curve of your hips and the apex of your thighs, eyes landing on your wet center. you looked down at him while he did nothing, only staring at you. You were completely vulnerable, insides screaming for him to just touch you. He seemed to want to take his time, from the way that his hand came and rested on the inside of your thigh while his eyes looked at your face gauging for a reaction. 
“What do you want, an instruction book?” You asked him, the brattiness and defiance in your tone that should’ve made him angry instead made him chuckle. His hand continued to reach further until his thumb pressed against your clit, making you groan at the feeling, your legs wrapping around his clothed waist. He was still completely clothed while you were completely pantsless. The bastard. He slid a singular finger into you, knowing that it would be enough to satisfy you for now, but it wasn’t enough. 
“Coriola-” 
A knock on the door made you both stop what you were doing. A voice was heard on the other end, it was your friend, wondering if you were okay since you had been in there for a while. “Y-yes! It’s fine,” You lied. “I’m just not feeling very well, I’ll be out soon!” You heard footsteps receding, and you turned your attention back to Coriolanus, who was looking down at you with a smirk. His finger was still buried in you, your pussy squeezing around his finger, wishing that he would move it. He seemed to understand what you wanted, his finger beginning to pump in and out, his thumb still pressed against your clit. The feeling was searing, something you weren’t even sure could just be described by words. 
His finger curled up in a come here motion and you almost screamed, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing he had such an effect over you. He could see through your bullshit quite clearly, pushing another two fingers into you and not moving. Coriolanus had three fingers in you that he wasn’t moving, watching you squirm against his hand to create some kind of pleasure. but with his other hand he held your hips down, keeping you from moving at all. 
“I want to hear you beg for it.”
“For fucks sake, Coriolanus,” you said, eyes opening to look at him. 
His chest pressed against your own as he leaned in, “Beg. or I’ll leave you to finger fuck yourself.”
For a moment you thought that you weren’t going to do it, mostly because of your pride and ego. the pleasure that awaited you took over though and you opened your mouth to say, “please, Coriolanus. Fuck me with your fingers. Stretch me out. I need you.” your cheeks burned in embarrassment at your words, knowing that he would never let you live that down. 
“Good girl.”
He spared not a moment more, fingers setting at an unbelievably fast pace as they pumped in and out of you. His thumb massaged figure eights on your clit and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. Your head arched back, feeling him hit your g spot every single time his fingers fucked into you. Soon enough you were cumming, opening your eyes and seeing blurry vision. He kept pumping his fingers, mouth finding home on your neck to give you more marks, perfect petals like a perfect rose. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to hide all of them.
You took a minute to catch your breath and for that moment he wasn’t touching you at all made you miss his touch more than you were willing to admit. You heard the sound of pants unzipping and soon enough Coriolanus was in between your legs, this time his cock in his hands as he pumped lazily. He was big, you thought to yourself. Of course he was, considering all he had done with you so far, he was just preparing for you to be almost speared open by his cock. Incoherent words spilled from your lips, all different forms of begging for him to just push it in, and he finally gave you the satisfaction, the tip of his cock pressing into your entrance. Coriolanus pushed all the way in, inch by agonizingly slow inch, his own eyes falling shut at the feeling of your warmth around him. 
Once he bottomed out, he pulled out, pushing back in. You hissed at the feeling, not all the way used to the feeling of him stretching you out but loving it anyways. He buried himself into you like he owned you and you loved it. His hands came to your hips and thrusted in and out with such force that your whole body moved with every single rut into you. He shed no mercy, hitting that one spot every single time mercilessly. 
Your hands fumbled to touch him, anywhere you possibly could. Eventually you made your way to his back, fingernails digging into his skin enough to probably draw blood from underneath the white button up that he was wearing. You scratched up and down, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust from underneath your shirt, your mouth opened slack. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
He grabbed your thigh and hoisted it up, moaning at the new angle that he hit within you. Your eyes teared up with the pleasure that coursed through you, once again about to hit that brink once again. You were already pretty sensitive from the previous orgasm. His name sounded so pornographic coming from you that he tried his best to remember how it sounded. It was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. You looked so fucking good taking him like this. He felt as if he had everything he ever wanted in the palm of his hands. And he was making you feel good, better than anyone ever had before. 
This drove his pride, thrusting animal like into you to take you to that peak again. He wanted to make you cum again. And you did, after about three thrusts from him, each one pulling out all the way and pushing in with force. his hand slipped down to rub your clit in figure eights and you came with a yell of his name into his shoulder, biting down on the fabric to try and muffle some of it so that passersby wouldn’t hear what was going on inside the bathroom. Not even two thrusts after, he was cumming, a low groan eliciting from his lips while his body stalled slightly on top of you. Each of your skins were drenched with sweat that you two almost stuck to each other. He pulled your face to meet his own and gave you a quick peck, and continued this all the way down your neck then stopping to bury his face into the crook of your neck, composing himself. 
He didn’t pull out, not right away, thinking that he had gotten all that he wanted. 
And there was no way that he could let you go now. 
Tumblr media
taglist ;
@obaewankenobis ; @slyhersophia ; @narcissistic-siren ; lmk if you want to be added.
1K notes · View notes
andersonlore · 6 months
Text
❝ YES TO HEAVEN ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !
"CEO!ABBY DRABBLE"
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, wlw sex, mommy!kink, fem!reader, poc!friendly (PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF IT ISNT AND I WILL EDIT), bi!reader, riding abby like a cowgrl, dom!abby, cheating!reader (not on abby), ceo coded!abby, strap r!receiving, abby having a dirty fucking mouth, mention of future voyeriusm, praise!kink if you blink, brief of mention of ass eating.
RAYNE RAMBLES ★ first abby!smut. this is very sloppy and i literally wrote this in less than an hour. it is what it is. hope you enjoy! please reblog if you like it.
Tumblr media
You had a boyfriend. Maybe there should be guilt weighing heavily on you, yet it was nowhere to be found. God, you couldn't locate a bone in your body regretting it, not now — you didn’t think ever. He worked for her for fuck sake. 
Yet, as she had you on her bed, riding her cock while the party remained downstairs, not a pretty thought racing through this head of yours. All you could think about was her. Big, calloused hands on your waist, guiding you into a rhythm as she bucked her hips upwards into yours. 
“Abby, fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Your tits bounced for her, nipples she had teased and sucked, nearly making you cum with her tongue alone. The blonde couldn’t help but tweak them with a twist of her fingers, reveling in the moan you offered on a silver platter.  
“This is all I wanna do, all day. ‘Jus ride you.” You slurred out to Abby. She could hear how much she was affecting you. Your wet cunt crying from being fucked. She just wanted to eat you out again, and she would. Certainly not before she had you come again. 
“Yeah, pretty girl? We can make that happen.” You moaned out her name as she hit a particular spot, one your boyfriend couldn’t even find in his dreams. 
“You know what I want?” Before you knew it, Abby grabbed your phone and dialed your boyfriend’s number. “I want you to talk about to your boyfriend while I fuck my favorite cunt. you can do that for me, right? My good girl.” 
“Hi, hun.” Your grip remained on the phone as you half-heartedly gave a response as Abby positioned you on all fours, before sinking back into you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as she did. 
“H-hi, sweetheart.” Abby was relentless as she fucked you, slowly pulling out until only the head of her cock was in, until she slammed all of her back in one thrust. Tears brought to your eyes as you tried to focus on the man you claimed to love, the sweet, dumb boy he always is. 
"Thank god you called, baby. Been looking for you everywhere.” Abby leaned her massive frame over you, kissing the back of your neck softly. as her pace increased, you felt so full of her, her hands slapping your ass now and then, knowing what the fuck that did to you.
“Yeah?” The question came out as a moan, more than a question. Abby giggled in your ear, knowing you were far too cock drunk to respond to her.
“Of course. Sorry. I worry just because of my boss, Abby.”
“Oh, really?” You questioned as Abby pulled away from you, hands gripping your waist as she settled into a rhythm you could barely handle. Intensely, pounding into over and over, at her mercy.
You were sure you were biting so harshly on your lip that you could taste the iron. 
“It’s stupid, really.” What was stupid was how easily Abby was manhandling you, her perfect little fuck toy bent to her will. She was moaning your name now, her heavy breath stuttering as the strap rubbed against her, and god, you could have cum right there.
“W-what is?” Now abby was thumbing your clit as her hips punished you. Fully settled in your pussy, as she fucks the sense right out of you.
“The guys at work told me to watch out for her. As soon as they saw the picture of you I kept on my desk, they said you were her type.”
Your boyfriend started rambling on but then Abby was whispering in your ear, “He’s not fucking wrong. I fucked this pussy the first day we met.” 
Abby’s filthy mouth leaves you light-headed and breathless.
“The darling boyfriend doesn't even know we fucked on his bed, does he? I guess you couldn’t tell him my pussy on yours feels better than his dick ever could. That would not be very nice, would it? My good fucking girl." 
Truly, after she whispered her sultry words you were gone. On the entire face of this god forsaken planet, you wouldn't be redeemed now. 
“So close, baby,” you murmured, forgetting he could hear you.
“What?” You asked. 
“Fuck. God.” The moans ripped out by her cock were music to her ears. 
“S-sorry, I meant, so close to being done here. I’ll meet you by the car?”
“Of course. see you soon, hun.”
As soon as you hung up, you threw the phone across the bed, and Abby pulled you up until you practically sat on her meaty thighs as she fucked you.
Her experienced hands grabbing onto your breasts, heavy in her hand as she felt your body convulse around her. Feeling yourself become closer and closer to your peak.
Her hips snapping harshly as she fucked you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as she did. She applied more pressure to your clit, her thumb rubbing circles having you cry out the name she craved to hear.
“Mommy, please let me come. Fuck, I need it so bad.”
“I bet you do, pretty. but make me a promise?”
“Yes, mommy. Whatever you want. I’ll do fucking anything. I just want to come for you. Be your good girl.”
“Next time I’m going to eat out your beautiful ass in front of him. Wanna Give him a lesson on how you like it. Then I’m going to show him how you love to eat mommy’s pussy. would you like that baby? wanna eat my cum right in front of him?”
“Fuck, yes. Holy fuck.” Your body dropped, face first as white ropes of cum coated her cock, your body twitching violently. Abby still fucked you through it. 
“I’m coming, oh fuck. God, mommy, your cock feels so good.”
“You like that?” Her giggle taunted you. Making you love her for it. “I know you do, baby.”
“My legs spread out for you, pussy wet and ready. I can see it now. do you think he’ll cry? I hope he does.” she laughs cruelly.
“Now, come show Mommy how grateful you are.”
“But, he’ll come looking for me.”
“Yeah, I know.”
1K notes · View notes
landograndprix · 15 days
Text
╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xiii
part twelve - part fourteen
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ life is going from bad to worse but maybe a bit of alone time is exactly what you needed but lando is not ready to give up.
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ very annoyed because the site I used to edit the text messages is gone and now I have to change the whole aesthetic of the fic. Tag list is closed.
➽────────────────────────❥
Tumblr media
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername posted to their story
Tumblr media
landonorris replied to your story
landonorris
pick up your phone
where are you?
babe text me back pls
text me pls
baby I'm sorry
➽────────────────────────❥
Tumblr media
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername
Tumblr media
liked by charles_leclerc, manon_roux and 548,534 others
y/nusername week 14. 🇧🇪
view all 1,114 comments
norrizz absolutely foul that they set you up with Danica all the time 😂
↳ bott_ass is like they want a cat fight on live television 💀
norris4 did you and lando break up?
milliexoxo didn't invite me for some waffles? Rude.
↳ oscarpastry pretty sure you were in the wrong garage 😉
carlandooo millie and Logan confirmed? 👀
oscarpastry she was just in williams garage, doesn't have to mean anything ofcourse but they've been seen together a couple times 👀
bobnorris did you break up with lando???
joris__trouche douce petite fille avec sa nouvelle amie 🦁 (sweet baby girl with her new friend)
↳ leclerc_16 it's been a while since I saw uncle joris in the comments 😭
landoooo why are y'all asking her if her and lando broke up?!
↳ norry4 just a stupid rumor going around again..
➽────────────────────────❥
Tumblr media
➽────────────────────────❥
Tumblr media
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername
Tumblr media
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 746,523
y/nusername rien que nous deux 🌞 (just the two of us)
view all 1,109 comments
norrizz oh..okay :(
hannahh going on a holiday all by myself with a toddler sounds like a nightmare to me, you go mom!
norry4 who remembers millie getting excited about her holiday to Greece with the 'norris bunch' 😔
↳ lan4lan stop she was so excited when y/n told her 😭
yukisan when was this?
norry4 one of mils her vlogs
hamilt44n fastest kid in the pool 🏎 💨
bott_ass put me in your suitcase next time please 😭
landoscar wonder why they broke up..
↳ clsixteen nothing had been confirmed yet, jeez y'all need to calm down
julieeeexo hope you guys enjoy your little girl vacation <3
landonorizzzz guys lando is still liking her posts, it's probably nothing (I'm delulu 😔)
↳ charliecharlie charles is also still in her likes and guess what they are? Not together anymore :(
landonorizzzz girl shut up 😭
➽────────────────────────❥
Tumblr media
➽────────────────────────❥
y/nusername posted to their story
Tumblr media
manon_roux replied to your story
manon_roux
Hi there, it's been a while and I completely understand if you don't want to speak to me and feel free to ignore this message but I've been seeing all the things they've written about you and everything that's happened and I just need to know if you're doing alright, making sure zoë is doing good
I know we don't see eye to eye anymore but you were my best friend since we were little kids so I'll always think about you, I hope you understand that
I'd apologise a thousand times for what I said and did but I also understand you're done withe me
I'm asking for you to give me your whole story but a thumbs up to let me know you're okay would ease my mind
➽────────────────────────❥
Tumblr media
➽────────────────────────❥
Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @geehsf @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
910 notes · View notes
miguelsslvt · 8 months
Text
punk! miguel x innocent! reader
Tumblr media
word count: 879
TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.
request: @sukioyakio ★
Tumblr media
A/N: this isn't edited and is poorly made so i'm so sorry. also can i just say thank you so much for over 600 notes on my first drabble?? oh my gosh?? anyways, enjoy and welcome to the club! ^^
imagine punk! miguel being the 'bad rep' of the school. in the 3rd year of college, he took physics, chemistry and spanish language. he would smoke behind the science classrooms, refuse to wear clothes that he calls 'society norms' like a blazer or a button up, and instead wear a black leather jacket with pins like 'pink floyd', or 'anarchist' all around it. he would yell, slander and mock almost every teacher whenever he's in class (which is very rare).
most of the girls honestly adored him, apart from the odd popular girl or two finding him too 'annoying' or too 'muscly' for their liking. he didn't give two shits, he already knew his body count was probably higher then their grades.
but then there's you. sweet, innocent little y/n. where most college students spent their weekends partying, you spent it in your dorm room re-reading 'moby dick' for the 6th time. you took phsycology, english literature and spanish language. and if you were completely honest, the only reason you chose spanish language is because your boyfriend at the time (now ex) was spanish. god, did you regret picking it for him.
you noticed miguel, like every other person in the school would. but your first time was different. you were running late, extremely late for your first class of the day. damn you, alarm. that's when you noticed miguel, outside science block, groaning.
despite being late, you took a curious peek at what the man was groaning about.
'stupid fucking lighter..' he mumbled, trying to light his cigarette, but failing. you knew better then to interfere, to even speak to the most intimidating man in college. but, for some reason, you ended up giving him your lighter.
'thanks, you smoke? i can give you one for a trade.' miguel said, as you smiled so sweetly. you explained how you didn't smoke, or did anything like that, and that you only carried a lighter 'just in case of emergencies'.
that's when miguel's interest in you piqued. you were such a sweet, innocent girl, and that drove something in him. something that he didn't realise he wanted. he usually only went for girls with his taste and style, girls he'd meet at festivals or clubs and were either high as heck or sexy goths. but you, you were different.
soon enough, he realised you were only in his spanish language classes, and that you weren't the best at it. perfect. your weakness was miguel's strength.
that's how you ended up in this situation. bent over miguell's desk in his dorm, mumbling his name as hee proceeded to sbuse his way into your sweet cunt.
'you want to tutor me..? that would be so nice miguel!' you had said so excitedly, there was a spanish exam coming up and miguel so kindly offered to tutor you the friday night. and being so naive and quite desperate for the help, you happily accepted.
his room was filled with different posters and signs like his favourite bands, anarchistic posters, stickers saying things like 'fuck the government!'. his leather jacket was discarded somewhere on the messy floor, as his hands grasped your hips to push you even deeper onto his cock.
'm-miguel.. m-miguel please!' you whined, your mascara running down your face.
he just chuckled, as he pulled your hair lightly, moving you onto the bed as he laid you down on your back, as he started bullying into your pussy once again. he was so mean.
your light blue dress was somewhere on the floor, ripped to shreds. it was your favourite dress, but you had other things to think about at the moment.
'yeah.. you like that, cariño? you like being fucked like a slut? not used to being so used, are you?' miguel teased, as you just moaned in response. he hadn't realised that fucking a cute little angel could be this enticing. fuck, he could get used to this.
'i.. miguel! i-i've never-' 'shh.. i know, i know, a sweet girl like you hasn't ever been treated this way.. i'm sorry for being so rough, but i dunno.. the way you're tightening around me suggests you like the harshness..' he said, his hand wiping your mascara-smudged cheeks. your body was submitting to him in every way possible, and he felt like a starved predator being fed for the first time in years.
'i-is it normal to feel l-like this..?' you whimpered, eyes shut from the pleasure. 'yes.. yes my sweet girl it's very normal to feel like this.. let me give you all the pleasure you've missed out on.' miguel whispered in your ear, as he started thrusting faster and faster, pushing you over to the edge.
you let out a loud moan, your back arching as you came. the way you clenched onto him drove miguel over the edge too. his thrusts became erratic and sloppy, as he let out one more groan as he came deep inside you.
you were panting, your eyes still shut. he pulled out slowly, placing a sweet kiss on your temple. 'god you're so cute..' miguel whispered to you, as you just whimpered in response. he chuckled deeply.
god, he might just get addicted to such a good innocent little thing like you.
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎
2K notes · View notes
aajjks · 1 month
Text
Silent Cries (m)
Tumblr media
synopsis. Not everything could go his way and he had to learn this the hard way
Disclaimer: this is pretty dark. Read at your own risk. Please keep in mind that this is purely fictional and I don’t think that Jungkook or any Bts member would ever act like this! Read with caution.
warning: ünhëälthy thèmès, fèrtïlïty ïssǔès, prègnâncy, öbsëssïön, mèntïöns ôf âbörtïön, dïvörcè, sèxüǎl thêmês, cryïng, yn rèálly wánts á báby, dêprèssïön, dárk thêmês.
note. Let’s welcome this new JK to my Multiverse. I hope you will ask him fun questions as well, and I hope you will love him even though he’s a little ☠️ ENJOY! 
Header credit: @callingholly ❤️
***NOT EDITED***
Tumblr media
You were told that you were not capable of having children, but… jungkook accepted that part of you. you know why.. it is because he loves you, and he never wanted children.
The day is gloomy, more than usual. You stand on the bathroom floor, your gaze is blurry. unshed tears in your eyes as you stare at the pregnancy test. The stick trembles in your hands. It is all over now.
You close your eyes in order to erase the image out your eyes. The image of two straight lines on the stick. You are supposed to feel really happy.
But why Fate is never really on your side?
Does God really hate you that much? All of your life, there was nothing but suffering, your parents never cared about you.
You and your husband, Jungkook- you love him, you really do but he’s just sometimes too much to bear. you’ve been having some problems in your marriage and you almost were considering divorce but now?
now, you are carrying another innocent life inside of you. That could be ruined because of you. Because of Jeon Jungkook, who ruins everything.
The thing is that he doesn’t want a child. He freaks out over the idea of having a child.
You sob at how pathetic you are. How could you let this happen? You are pregnant, with his child. You want to die. But now, you can’t do that.
If there’s anything you and him are not compatible with? It’s your family plan. You’ve always wanted children. Unlike your husband.
And no matter what his reaction is going to be, you can’t help but grab your belly, wiping your tears that fall.
You are going to have this baby. You can’t kill it- your husband will suggest it, you know him so well.
Because you are not a killer. You can’t kill the little life inside of you. That you so desperately wanted all your life. You’ve prayed for this moment.
And even though you have made your decision,
Panic rises in your chest as you come out of the bathroom and look at Jungkook’s and yous wedding photos that litter the creamy beige walls. Thankfully, he’s not home right now so you will have some time to relax and plan how to tell him.
But- it’s almost time.
He could be home any minute now! The ticking of the clock almost warns you. Time is going.
You throw the stick in the dumpster. He’s going to find it anyways. you have no idea why you feel so nervous… You feel like you are being suffocated. And you can’t be saved.
As your hand rests on your yet to be swollen stomach, something switches in you. You have to be strong now. You need to survive for your child. You have to make him understand. This child will be a blessing for the both of you. You are going to become strong.
You are going to change everything just for the sake of your child. Because this little bean is now the reason for your existence. Maybe this could fix your marriage-because you really don’t want to leave your husband-you’re not sure about what you want..
You quickly wipe the tears as a small smile paints your lips. Your grandma raised you to be strong and you can just give into Jungkooks stupid demand. You are going to be like your grandma, who raised you, took care of you. Became your mum, that you never had.
This baby is just as jungkook as yours too, and it is going to become your strength. This baby is a gift from God, your saving grace.
Your husband was really happy on the particular day, when you had been told about your fertility issues, he made it really clear that he never wanted children, he always wanted it, to be him and you.
Your thoughts are cut off short when the doorbell rings. And the main door unlocking. talk of the devil? And He shall appear.
You inhale a deep breath.
Time to do this.
Tumblr media
“I’m pregnant, Jungkook.” The words come out of your mouth so easily. Jungkook who is cuddling, your body, a habit he has. Looks up at you.
He is currently laid in your lap, and he starts to laugh at you.
You want to roll your eyes, but this reaction is not really that surprising from him and you just have to be calm and collected right now.
“I-I’m so sorry? But you’re pregnant?” He stops laughing, as he wipes his tears. he looks so bad you with his brown eyes and you can tell he’s waiting for you to say that you’re kidding but you’re not.
You just smile at him in pity. Your nod of confirmation was all it took for Jungkook to start panicking.
“W-What are you saying!? Y-You can’t be! You can’t be pregnant!!” He gets up from your shared bed as he runs his hand frantically through his hair. His dark damp, long locks hiding his eyes.
What the fuck is he talking about? His words hit a nerve in you. He knows damn well how you got pregnant.
“What the fuck Jungkook! How can you ask me how I’m pregnant?! It’s because of you! You did this!” You scream at the panicking man.
“because I thought you weren’t supposed to get pregnant?!” He’s right about that but it’s not like you planned on this to happen. You also thought that you couldn’t have children.
So what was the point in using protection birth control, like he always said to you. You just both have to deal with the consequences of your actions.
“B-But yn! I don’t want a child.” There we go.
“There is not supposed to be someone else between us! Not a-a baby!” Jungkook cries desperately as he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you as if you’ll understand his point. You get up from the bed.
If it’s an argument he wants, you’ll give him that.
You cannot believe that he’s crying right now.
You glare at the doe eyed man who is looking at you as if you have grown two heads. “Jungkook! You disgust me.” You spit at him. You can’t believe him, he is such a selfish person. Jungkook flinches at the coldness of your tone as his grip loosens on your shoulders.
His voice comes out rough and broken but he keeps on apologising to you. “Y-Yn P-Please! Y-You don’t mean that r-right? You can’t! Y-You love me! Just me! And no one else! We need to get rid of this baby!” He rambles on like a madman and as your brain register his words his last sentence hits you and your eyes widen in disbelief.
Why are you even surprised? Even though you knew he was going to say that? it just hurts a little bit more hearing it coming from his own mouth without any hesitation.
“W-What?! A-Are you hearing yourself Jungkook? You-You’re suggesting that I-I kill my unborn child?” Tears well up in your eyes, and they immediately start to fall down your cheeks at Jungkook’s suggestion. You avert your gaze away from Jungkook’s crazed eyes.
“You’re a sick bastard! Fucking monster!” You sob at him. Your curses don’t seem to affect him, it is like he has gone numb, the irony. He stands still.
“No. one. can. come. between. us.” Jungkook’s silent whispers could be heard by you. You massaged your temples, now there was only one option left.
“If this baby dies then I’ll die with it. And if you don’t want this baby..” you take in a breath. He always gets your blood pressure so high.
“If you don’t want this baby that means you don’t want me either, so I will just divorce you because I have been thinking about it. you are becoming too much for me to deal with it’s time you fucking grow Up!”
“I will have this baby because this is the only ray of hope in my life. Now, it’s your choice, Jungkook.” Your words come out of your mouth carefully. You wait for his response. 
But all you get is silence.
When he doesn’t respond you decid to leave the room, but a loud sob holds you back. Did you mention that your husband is actually pathetic and good for nothing?
Yes, he’s rich but, so what? Yes, he handsome in the first man you loved but now you’re beginning to regret it.
His rough screams for you please you, oddly his suffering pleases you to the core.
It was about time he suffered.
Tumblr media
“B-Be careful Y/N!” Jungkook instructs you while you laid down on the bed, your hands coming to caress your 6 months pregnant belly. His eyes are fixated on your movements, never left your belly as he smiled softly.
“Y/N just one month is left until our baby is here!” Soft giggles left his mouth as he laid beside you and caresses your stomach. “You look so beautiful like this! You’re pregnant with my child. You’ll be the mother of my child. We’re going to be parents! Now, everyone would know that you’re mine! This baby will make us inseparable, y-you won’t be able to leave me now!” Another chuckle vibrates from his chest.
You’re not sure what has happened to him these past few months but you’re glad that there’s improvement.
Maybe it was your threat to divorce and that got his head straight.
But meanwhile…
He could look at you forever and not get bored. You look so ethereal with your belly swollen because of him. He made you like this. The thought of that really pleases him.
Now you couldn’t ever think of leaving him! This child has bounded you to Jungkook forever.
Your tired voice brings him back to reality, “Jungkook he’s going to be so beautiful and cute! I love the little shoes that your parents bought for him oh! And his little clothes?? And the baby bathtub? His nursery is by far my most favourite! My lovely son! I can’t wait to meet you! Mommy loves you so much!” You talked to the baby. An exciting smile gracing your features.
Yeah, it’s a little boy. And his parents are so excited for their first grandchild.
Everyone is excited about him, even his friends are excited to become uncles.
He doesn’t understand what is the breed about having a little child, because all they do is cry and fuss. And poop.
Jungkook scoffs at you cooing at the child who wasn’t even born yet. You used to coo at him like this. Jungkook was supposed to be your baby! Jealousy slowly starts to creep up again.
He needs to stay calm. But how can when his brain is just refusing to give him any peace.
A thousand scenarios run through his mind. What if you don’t love him anymore? Or what if you will give the baby more attention than Jungkook? Or worse, what if the baby will completely take his place in your heart? And worst of all, what if you completely forget about him?
“Kook! Jungkook! Your phones buzzing! It’s Eunwoo!” You shake his shoulders to get his attention, your husband has a tendency to zone out.
You couldn’t help but wonder about what he’s thinking about so focused?
“Jungkook!” your tone got louder this time. Jungkook finally blinked as he smile at you.
“O-Oh I’m so sorry Y/N! Please pass me my phone, princess?” You decide to let go the urge of asking what was he thinking so deeply about and pass him the phone.
Jungkook kisses your lips quickly as he excuses himself out. You nod, and he smiles brightly while picking up the phone. You then focus on the book.
It makes sure that he’s away from you. The large house has a lot of benefits to it, whenever he wants to complain? he can just come in one of the rooms and scream.
As soon as he leaves the room a cry left him. “Eunwoo! I-I need your help! I-I don’t want this baby! He will steal Y/N away from me! N-No that can’t happen! Help me please! Y-Y/N is already slipping away from my grip! Help me get rid of this baby! Please!” Jungkook rambles on like a maniac through the phone while on the other line, Eunwoo sighs heavily.
“calm down first.” He spoke timidly. Jungkook took a deep breath. He’s right, Jungkook needs to get a grip on himself first.
“Now listen, we talked about this.” Eunwoo’s tone changed. “W-What!?” The long haired male rolls his eyes, because he knows he’s about to get lectured But a lecture is not what he needs. Jungkook needs a solution to his problem.
“I don’t think you should do something so immoral like that…” Jungkook got confused. What is he talking about?
“W-We can’t kill him! Y-Y/N wouldn’t want that! N-No!” Jungkook clearified. Jungkook couldn’t displease you.
“What are you implying?” Eunwoo took in a deep breath.. “having a child with her is a good thing, kook. That’s what I’ve been trying to make you understand… she will be with you forever.”
Of course you will be with him forever because it’s not like he will let you divorce him but why does everyone keep saying that a child will make your relationship only stronger?
You don’t even touch him.. anymore. Maybe it’s the sexual frustration catching up to him. Maybe everyone is right.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at eunwoo’s voice. He’s not exactly wrong though. Jungkook take some moment to think about this all over again.
He did read on the Internet that sex will help induce labor-and if he will tell you that you will definitely give in to him. He cannot believe that he’s thinking about that right now, but he can’t help it.
There’s still three months left in your delivery. He can wait for three months, right? Or maybe he could just seduce you into bed tonight.
Why are you not horny. Women tend to get really hormonal with your hormonal issues. Don’t have anything to do with your sex drive.
He will fix that.
A dirty smile is now on Jungkook’s face. He holds the phone tighter as he speaks the final words to eunwoo.
“Thanks man! For always helping me! I owe you.” He smiles and sighes.
You have always given him what he wanted, jungkook he always managed to get his way with you, so maybe this time it should be you in his place.
“No problem man! It’s just like how you helped me get my girl… Seeing you like this with yn makes me remember when I was at your place... but I am glad that you have understood because she deserves to be happy..”
Jungkook chuckles loudly. “Of course! What are brothers for?” Jungkook’s eyes darken, because he knows that as much as eunwoo would like to think that he’s different from jungkook, he’s not.
He’s also right about the fact that you deserve to be happy. That’s why he’s been so hopeful supportive during your pregnancy.
“Let’s see when the baby comes..”and after saying goodbye to his friend? Jungkook walks back to your shared bedroom.
There you are, hand on your belly and your eyes scrunched together at the book you’re reading. He smiles at the sight.
No one could ever come between you and him. Not even his own blood. He belonged to you and you belonged to him. And the baby can never come between you and Jungkook.
You will have to decide the baby’s fate.
It all depends on you now.
446 notes · View notes
strnilolo · 5 months
Text
clumsy girl
Tumblr media
summary: matt’s girlfriend is rather clumsy.
warnings: cursing, use of y/n, kisses kinda, jokes about death, idk what else. lowercase intentional
an: i kinda don’t like this one guys. BUT this won the vote so ask and you shall receive.
an2: i do have some requests guys and im very sorry that i haven’t gotten to them, its just hard for me to get motivated unless i have a really good idea for a fic and can play it out in my head. but i will be working on requests i promise.
|navigation|
you and matt are sat on the couch together, aimlessly scrolling through your phones. matt leans his head on your shoulder before giggling slightly, sitting upright next to you.
“look at this video, isn’t this funny?” matt moves his phone in front of you, scrolling to restart the video.
you watch as different clips cut across the screen, laughing lightly to yourself. the video had been a compilation of matt saving you from falling, hitting your head, hurting yourself, etc.
“you’re so clumsy, huh? always need me to save you” matt smirks at your annoyed expression.
“i am not that clumsy, matthew, you’ve probably tripped and fallen more times than me” you roll your eyes as you sit back against your teasing boyfriend.
“well.. what about that one time at dinner, or the time you almost tripped up the stairs?”
matt went on and on about the different times he was your ‘knight in shining armor.’
two months ago
“okay guys now we’re going to be decorating the cupcakes and our lovely mother is going to be trying them and rating them 1-10” you listened patiently as nick loudly addressed the camera, informing the viewers of our next step.
“oh shit” your tube of icing dropped onto the floor right as the clip began rolling. you quickly bend to the side to grab the tube as matt reached his hand to cover the corner of the table, protecting your head from bashing into it. sitting up, you thank matt for his help before continuing to decorate your cupcake.
currently
“oh my god, i actually do remember that. people were making edits for weeks” the two of you laughed at the fond memory, before matt began to speak again.
“do you remember the time you almost fell down the stairs during our house tour?”
“oh please don’t remind me” groaning at the embarrassing image in your head.
several months earlier
“okay so now y/n is going to lead us upstairs to the room we share” matt followed behind you, talking to the camera as the vlog went on.
“oh fuck!” you grip onto the railing, feeling yourself slip on the wooden staircase.
“jesus y/n-” you feel matt’s hand on your back, steadying you on the stairs before he releases his grip, allowing you to continue up.
“you have got to be more careful, you could’ve killed us all” nick laughs from behind matt, dramatically grasping onto the rail.
“whatever, thanks matt” you smile at the boy, playfully rolling your eyes.
“okay guys so we made it upstairs, barely, now to show you where i sleep” matt faces the camera towards you as the four of you continue to vlog a tour of your shared living space.
currently
“jesus, that was embarrassing” you cover your face with your hands in attempt to hide your blush.
“no it wasn’t, you just don’t want the world to see that you’d die without me” matt pulls your hands from your face, playfully placing kisses around your forehead and cheeks.
“i guess i would die without you, huh?”
“a very painfully and stupid death, yes” the two of you laugh at the memories, enjoying the little amount of quality time you’re able to get.
| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated|
| 🏷️ @strniolosworld @bananabread-nana @abbie13sworld @mxqdii |
ps i do not consent to my work being stolen, translated, or posted on any other website without my permission
977 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 7 months
Text
Let Me Love You, Baby
Tumblr media
Chapter 7 of That's What You Get Prev Chap // Next Chap
Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), nipple play, handcuffing, BDSM themes, dom! Spencer, sub! Reader, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffing, a variety of PinV sex positions, multiple orgasms, squirting mention, mentions of different types of orgasms involving penetrative sex and anal sex. 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Your memories of your wedding night come back. Not all of them, just the interesting ones.
A/N: If you're enjoying this series please PLEASE let me know in the comments! I've really been loving the theories about who the other witness is and I've changed my mind like three times on who it is eventually going to be BUT I've made up my mind now and I think it's going to be a great reveal lmao. This chapter has been on my mind since I started the series and I'm so happy you can all finally read it, but it is also A Lot of sex because every time I had a thought, I wrote it down and then didn't self-edit lmao. You can find my masterlist here, the series masterlist in the link above, and if you enjoy my smut, think about checking out my kinktober masterlist or my AO3 account for daily spicy content next month! <3
You stumbled, drunk, into the room, not sure in the haze if it was yours or his. The card had passed between you in many hushed giggles through the hall as you eagerly pulled each other forward. Falling onto the bed, you let out a contented sigh as Spencer fell next to you, face first into the sheets with a small laugh. 
“I can’t believe we did that!” You grinned, meeting his eyes as he turned his head towards you. “We’re married!” 
“We are.” He smiles, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall to his lips, swollen and pink from your earlier enjoyment of one another. You start to laugh, not fully understanding why, but thinking it probably had a lot to do with the alcohol you’d consumed. Bringing a hand up to his face, you let a finger run over the corner of his mouth, wiping away a tiny splash of red you’d deposited earlier. 
“Your lips are swollen.” 
“Whose fault is that?” He leans in and catches your lips again in his and you squeal at the sudden contact, excited to feel him against you again. He’s soft and gentle at first, but as you gasp underneath him your breaths get shorter, stopping just shy of moans as you let your hands trail up and down his body. But the edge of the bed is uncomfortable, so you push him off, following his lips still as he pushes himself further up, straddling his waist as you let yourself melt into him. 
“How did this happen again?” You ask, memory already feeling a little fuzzy, as you think back on the stressful few weeks you’ve had and how much better this feels. How nice it is to have someone underneath you, pressed against you, holding you. 
“Is that important right now?” He asks, lips seeking yours again as you turn your head just as he tries to connect, giggling at his pout. 
“You know, I always thought getting married would be this whole huge thing. Hundreds of guests, 18 months of stress while planning, you never really know on the day if the man you’re attempting to lock down is actually going to be on the other end of that aisle or if he’s bolted somewhere.” His lips are carving a path down your throat as you talk, memorizing the peaks and falls of every inch of your skin, committing you to memory like a prayer. 
“A man would have to be absolutely stupid to leave you at the alter, Y/N.” He says those words that prick your heart so easily, worming his way in, without even breaking his lips away from their spot on your collarbone. 
“Then if he didn’t leave, he’d be too drunk to perform on the wedding night, and so the entire day would end up just being a bust anyway.” He smiles into his final kiss, letting it linger against your skin as he pulls away and looks into your eyes. 
“How drunk are you, Spencer?” Your voice falls to a hush as you shift your weight in his lap, opening your legs just a smidge wider, shifting forward so more of you is falling over his clothed member, pressing up against him as close as possible. 
“You’re talking too much,” he growled out, and, grabbing you by the neck, pulled you into another heated kiss. This one isn’t giggles and soft sighs, it’s a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation, and you suddenly have the answer to your question as you feel him stiffen beneath you. Grinding down into him, you let him take control of your actions, letting him tell you when you can come up for air. 
When he finally pulls away from you, you stay connected through a line of saliva stretching from your lolling tongue to his mouth. He breaks it with his thumb, forcing the digit into your mouth as you suck your shared mess from him. 
“Definitely not too drunk.” 
You couldn’t help yourself then, as you pulled his thumb from your mouth and shifted your body down the bed until your face was parallel to his crotch, beginning to palm him in his trousers. 
“If we’re married,” you say, popping the button on his pants open. “We should probably get to know each other's… preferences early on. Stop any future arguments from occurring, right?” You looked up at him through hooded eyes, plastering the most sinful smile you could muster on your face. He stayed quiet, but you felt him twitch underneath your hand, and decided that was response enough. 
“You can bite me and scratch me if you want. I like it. Pull my hair, spank me, choke me until I’m begging to cum. I like all of it. You’re in control now, Spencer. You can do whatever you want with me, so long as it ends with your cum down my throat or stuffed inside me.” Finishing your speech, confidence fueled by alcohol and the buzz of your wedding vows, you slip his cock from its cloth prison and take it directly into your mouth. 
It’s thicker than you expected, and you just sit with the tip of it in your mouth for a second, trying to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, you push slowly down on it, letting your tongue tease and trace a path down. You don’t make it to the base before you’re pulling off, reaching what you expect to be your max about halfway down. You set a rhythm for yourself, hands pumping the rest of him as you coax the cum from him. 
He gives you three minutes of fun before he decides that you need a little help reaching your full potential. Fisting a hand into your hair, and cradling the back of your neck in his other, he stills your motions before pushing you further down his cock, bypassing your gag reflex as your throat battles against the position he’s put you in, your nose tickled against his soft curls. 
“Okay, let’s talk preferences. I’d prefer it if you ask permission before you touch something, whether that be me or yourself. I’d prefer if you used a safe word if this all gets a bit much for you. And I’d prefer you to relax that little throat of yours so I can fuck a load of my seed down it baby, okay?” He pulls you up by the hair and you nod, rasping out a yes as you gasp for air. 
“Safeword is profile, tap twice if you need air.” And with that, he’s fucking your face again, pushing and pulling you by your hair as your mouth leaks spit. This was going to be a moment you’d never forget, the taste of his precum at the back of your throat, burning its way down. 
Shrugging off his pants completely, he keeps at his movements, your head still working over him like you’re simply a fleshlight for his personal use. He grunts and twitches into you, signaling his impending release, and you try to ready yourself for the sting of the liquid hitting the back of your throat. He cums hot and fast, and you swallow around him, but there’s so much, it spills out of your mouth quickly, dripping down your chin and neck. 
“Good girl. You listen to instructions well.” He pulls you up to his lap again as he begins undressing you, not bothering to wipe his cum from your mouth. 
In a matter of seconds, he has you completely bare for him. Pulling your legs further up, he lets your torso fall back into the bed before shimmying himself down, coming face-to-face with your core. 
“You remember the rules?” He asks, and you nod, answering his question. 
“No touching, safe word is profile. Is that it?” 
“One more thing. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, okay?” You let out a moan of discontent then, but he shuts you up with a light slap to your face, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before traveling south again. 
“Relax for me, baby,” he says as he spreads your legs and stretches out his tongue to finally come in contact with your needy core. His tongue is skilled, and you almost immediately break one of his rules as you arch off the bed, trying your best not to suffocate him between your thighs as you search for ways to heighten this pleasure. 
He wastes no time being gentle, just fully eating you out like it was his job to make you cum on his face. His tongue stretched from your clit to your hole, flattening out and writhing in equal amounts as your pleasure built to a frenzy. Your hands gripped into the sheets and you clung to the single thought that maybe a punishment from your new husband wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 
Your hands drift to his hair, gripping tightly as you begin bucking into his mouth, completely lost in your base desires. He quickly grips your hands and pins them to the bed again though, pulling away just before you even think about climaxing against his face. 
“Spencer,” you beg, your moans sounding like the sobs of a spoiled child. 
“You broke a rule, princess. I can’t just let you get away with that.”  You moan at the loss of contact, your voice whinier than you'd ever heard it. 
He left the bed entirely then, and you lifted your head up to follow his path to the drawers by the side of the bed. Opening it, he picked up the wedding license you'd discarded on the floor, placing it nearly inside and slowly pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Your standard FBI set, not something light, flimsy, and cushioned with fluff, these were hard and cold against your skin as he returned to the bed. 
"Wait, S-Spencer…. Really?" You panicked as he pulled one arm over your head placing it parallel with the headboard, trapped between the slats. He tightened the cuff around your hand, leaving one free as he started kissing down your arm, down to your shoulder and into the hollow of your neck. 
"Yes, really. Now since you want to use that other hand so badly, why don't you use it to get yourself off." You swallowed the spit in your mouth, and nodded at him, before doing just as he asked, picking up where his hands had gotten off. 
He shifted to sitting just by your side, lifting your body half on top of him, your back pressed up against his chest as he watched over your shoulder as your hand-worked you into a frenzy. Bringing both of his hands around your body, he started playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling and fondling your breasts as your breathing became more labored. 
"There are seven different female orgasms, you know. The clitoral orgasm, the G-spot orgasm, the blended orgasm, the anal orgasm, the A-spot orgasm, a purely psychological orgasm, and," he leaned down closer to your ear to finish his sentence. "The nipple orgasm." You struggled against the handcuff as you felt the tightness build in your chest, but he grabbed and held your other hand close to him as he pushed up on top of you again. 
"How many do you think you'll get tonight, Y/N?" He asked, lowering his head back to your chest as you bucked your hips wildly, trying to feel him in between your legs. 
He pushed down your hips and kept his attention on your chest, your brain going fuzzy with the contact as the orgasm that had been imminent kept growing until you couldn't stop it from rushing over you, chumming with his attention solely on your chest. 
"You didn't answer my question?" He brought his head up, frowning slightly as you blinked your eyes open and focused on his shape above you. 
"Did you read some kind of sex book, Spencer? Jesus Christ that was…" You couldn't say anything else and he chuckled from above you. 
"I didn't read one, I've read multiple, and it's less reading and more committing to absolute memory." He swooped back down to your lips. "Answer the question, how many do you think you'll get tonight?"
"Two?" You ask vaguely, immediately opening your mouth back up to keep rambling. "But Spencer I've never really had more than one with another person and I'm not sure if I even can-" 
"You can. You will. You promised to listen to me, remember?" You flushed at his words, choosing simply to just nod for him instead of trusting your tongue to spit out the right words. 
"Good girl," he says, wrapping your legs around him, and running his cock through your folds, holding it there as he teased you. 
"I don't have to use a condom, right? You want me to drop my load directly into you, right? We're married now, so I can just fuck my seed into you, hmm?" You moaned out, begging for him to just push into you, to keep his promises and pleasure you again and again. 
"Hands in the sheets baby, come on, no touching remember?" You did as you were told, and with another kiss to your lips, tongues locking in your battle, he thrust his entire length into you in one movement. 
A scream of pleasure ripped out of you, just as quick and fast as you were sure you ripped the sheets of the bed, your sharp nails digging in for dear life as you struggled against the desire to hold him against you. 
"That's it, princess. That's it." He starts thrusting, snapping his hips up, and slowly pulling himself out again. For a moment, it was like you weren't breathing at all, his body feeding you everything you needed to sustain yourself. Lungs burning, you gulped in large breaths of him. His tongue swallowed each and every complaint, as he shared in your pleasure. 
He wasn't afraid to be vocal, like some men you'd been with in the past, and the sounds of his pleasure echoed out louder than your own. He was moaning in your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked on him as he pounded into you relentlessly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he slapped into you again and again. 
His hand came up to your face as he grew closer to his climax, pushing his fingers back into your mouth as he turned your face further against the pillow. Your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you moaned around his fingers, pussy clenching on his dick as you felt your embarrassment rise. 
"So pretty and messy," he mumbled, hips keeping his pace up. 
"Did you make sure to swallow all of my cum earlier baby? Because if there was any of it left on my cock, I'm fucking it into you. Going to drop another load next to it so you can feel me knock you up." 
Unlike your first orgasm, you don't feel this one coming, you just know that he's hitting a spot so deep that it's never been reached before and saying the exact words that are pulling it closer to you, and then you're ecstasy has you squirting around his dick. 
"That's right. There you go, baby, lay nice and calm there, I need to keep going."
You were overstimulated, already feeling your desire burn a path through you again. He pulled out though, but made it clear that his intention was just to switch the positions of your bodies. 
Making sure not to twist your locked-up arm uncomfortably, he laid on the bed and pulled your fucked out body on top of him. You shivered at his touch and he pulled you further into his embrace warming you up. 
Your chest was pressed against his back, your head rolled back on his shoulder as he gently coaxed your legs apart one more time. 
"That's it, baby, you're listening so well. Just push your legs apart for me, okay?" You did as he asked, and he pressed your legs further up and apart, grabbing into the flesh of your thighs as he aligned his dick with your aching pussy and pressed into you one more time. 
The new angle had you moaning around you, as he encouraged you to start lifting your hips up and down, as he trusted up into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit an electric point inside of you. He grabbed your hand to steady you as you moved to a seated position, letting your heels dig into the bed as you began riding him.
You were so tired that it didn't last long though, your hips stuttering awkwardly. 
"It's okay, Y/N, I'll do the rest, you just stay right there." From his place underneath you, he kept your thighs from above him as he thrust into you just as quickly as before, somehow maintaining his stamina despite the edging, the alcohol, and the energy you'd already exerted. 
Just as you were really about to lose your mind, he pulled out again, escaping from beneath you and gently laying you back on the bed. 
"One more position, princess, and then we can rest. You've been so good for me, you can do this, right? Can let me drop all of my cum inside you?" You nodded another sleepy yes, eyes somewhere between closed and open. There was no strength left in your body to stiffen up as he began moving your now malleable body into position, but that doesn't mean you didn't let out a moan at the way he'd stretched you out. 
Pushing your legs apart again, he's settled between them, but instead of letting them wrap around him, he'd kept hold of them, pushing your knees up still until they were on either side of your chest. He kissed away complaints and approvals that didn't come and slowly pushed into you again. 
He was evidently close, by the way he was drawing this out now. His fingers found your clit as his cock slowly worked in and out of you, the snap of his hips completely controlled and even in tempo. 
"Just keep doing that, Spence, oh my god," you begged, words suddenly returning to you. His fingers on your clit increased in pressure, but his pace otherwise didn't change, and you soon felt that third orgasm ripple through you, finally leaving you with no more to give. 
Your last fall from grace had him following you swiftly after, his lips finding yours as he crashed back down on top of you, hips stuttering as he drank you in like wine. 
The rest was a blur, really, sleep having claimed you so swiftly that you barely remember the words he had definitely whispered to you as soon as he caught his breath again. 
"I love you. It's always been you." 
Other than a vague recollection of him rearranging your legs so you wouldn't struggle to walk the next day, and the sensation of a cold, damp cloth on your skin, nothing besides remained. 
–X– 
It's unfortunate, really, that the memory came to you when you did, his lips on yours heating you up in a way that made you absolutely want to relive every experience he had given you. But paralyzed with shock, you'd had only one recon to choose a reaction, and out of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, you'd gone for slam the door in his fucking face. 
Not your finest moment. 
Which is why after two minutes of listening to his confusion on the other side of the hall, your brain kicked back into gear and you started weighing your options. 
It would be wrong to open the apartment doors and pull him back in, right? It would certainly be wrong to pull him in and demand a re-do of the first time you'd forgotten. Would he even want to redo doing it with you? And what did he mean when he said "I love you." 
It was those words more specifically that scared you. You'd both been absolutely intoxicated when you'd fallen into the wedding chapel together and still remarkably unstable afterward presumably. There was a high likelihood that he hadn't known what he was saying, and taking a risk on a friendship for half a memory and wishful thinking wasn't a great calculation. 
But gripping the door handle, you realized your body had made the decision for you, completely overwhelmed by the need to see him again. 
When you opened the door, no one was there. Your phone pinged with a text as you looked around disappointedly, not finding him anywhere. Looking down at your phone, you cursed your own stupidity as you read his message. 
"Sorry. I won't do that again."
You typed out explanations and deleted them over and over for what seemed like an hour, guilt eating you up. 
Eventually, you threw your phone down in resignation, and, grabbing your groceries, started frantically planning your next steps. 
Step one: wallow in your own misery. 
Step two: crack open the single bottle of red wine in your pantry. 
Step three: beg for heavenly guidance. 
After the wine was opened, you picked up the phone again and shot off a quick emergency message to Penelope. 
"Pen, need help, may have just ruined EVERYTHING with Reid because I remembered our wedding night mid-kiss - long story. Mine, now? Xx"
You couldn't stand to look at your phone after that, putting it on silent and assuming the single time it flashed was confirmation that Penelope was on her way. After half an hour, you sprang from your seat at the sound of the door, making your way back to the scene of your most recent number one embarrassing memory. 
Only opening the door to Emily Prentiss, you were sure you'd just dethroned yourself. 
"You're going to have to start from the beginning or explain to me that that message had multiple typing errors, because just when did you and Reid get married, and why is it suddenly over now?" 
--X--
🏷️ Pt 1 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira
@danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil
1K notes · View notes
tatoda · 9 months
Text
Drive | conrad fisher x fem!reader
Tumblr media
!!MINORS DNI!!
request @shqtteredcrystql1
masterlist
authors note
summary: you take a drive to cousins, but your boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself and you do something about it CHARACTERS ARE 18+
warning: SMUT!! male receiving, road head
wc: 300ish (very short)
i’m sorry this took forever to get out. i also changed it to just conrad receiving to get this out faster. i may re write it later on. i’m sorry. i will also be taking a small break from posting trying my best to get stuff out NOT EDITED
Tumblr media
It was one of those spontaneous drives. Conrad texted you telling you he was pulling up to your house in exactly 10 minutes to take you somewhere. It wasn’t normal for him just to show up when Brown was almost a 3 hour drive from you to him. He has surprised you a few times and drove to come see you but it was never a secret of where you were going.
You have been dating conrad for about 9 months now. It was just a new relationship but you knew him you’re whole life so it didn’t seem weird at all to be with him 24/7 when you could be. It took you some time to catch up to conrad’s hornyness (is that a word). He knew how to do a lot of things and well you knew most of it but maybe not enough. When you we’re together he could keep his hands to himself but as you entered his black car, he kissed you deeply even before you could shut the door.
“conrad.” you said into the kiss smiling as he held your head close to him
“i know i’m sorry.” he paused “i just missed you so much.” he kisses you again and you let yourself sink into the kiss as your body was over the console of the car and you pushed back into the front seat
“let’s go to cousins.” you grinned at him and he had his stupid smile on his face before putting the car in drive
It was about thirty minutes into the drive when his hand rested on your thigh started to move higher up on your thigh and you just stared at him and he acted as if anything was happening. So you decided to do the same to him moving your hand to his thigh and moving it higher
“y/n, i’m driving.” he quickly glanced at you
“just keep driving don’t worry about me.” you moved his hand from your thigh to the wheel and slowly took your seatbelt off from across of you and leaned over the console
“fuck.” you zipped his pants down and he lifted his hips so you could pull them to his mid thigh and through his boxers you teased him a little bit by putting pressure over the hard part forming between his legs “y/n”
“calm down.” you lifted the boxers next and net his erection come out and he let out a breath but kept his focus on the road “just drive”
Conrad let out a groan as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him. He lifted your hips to get more friction from your hands and you laughed at his state. You used your thumb to wipe some pre-cum off the tip and he hit it head on the headrest keeping his eyes on the road
“just relax.” you looked up at him
“i can’t relax when you’re doing this to me.” he sighed and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.
You leaned down to lick the side of his erection starting from the bottom to the tip. Conrad’s hips were trying to add more friction but he stopped himself trying to enjoy the moment. Before you put him into your mouth you licked the tip and then put your mouth around him.
“fuck.” conrad let out through closed teeth
You continued his movements up and down and each time the boy above you let out multiple groans and moans at your actions. He moved one of his hands to wrap around your ponytail to help you move up and down to his speed.
“that’s it.” he glanced down quickly “mhm”
You moved to his movements trying to help him get to his speed going up and down hollowing your cheeks to help. He was a mess above you trying his hardest to pay attention to the road when your were below him and doing the best work ever.
“just let me.” he sighed “please” you nodded and he lifted his hips up and slammed into your mouth and controlling your ponytail at the speed. you were letting him take all the control just how he liked it “yeah, yeah.” he moved faster and you knew he was close “cumming-“ you were cut off by his load moan and his hips lifted off the seat cummings into your mouth and you tried to swallow as much as you could before he pulled you off of him and he went limp “fuck, that was good.” he looked down at you resting your head on his thigh and he moved some lose strands away from sticking to your forehead “good job, baby.”
“of course.” you smiled
“when we get to the house, you’re the main attraction.”
Tumblr media
taglist
@maybankslover @safeplaceholland @mysticalstarlightflower @stylesyourmine @bloody-mf-bsc @haylexo10
join the taglist
1K notes · View notes
l4long-winded · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
o.s. fresh, unwilting daisies
summary: carmen gets possessive after your ex boyfriend stops by and leaves you a bouquet of daisies (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)
Tumblr media
reflection: wrote this yesterday and edited it today. i have received a few requests in my inbox if anyone is interested in leaving me some more, i'll get to those as soon as i can. let's relish in the collective carmy brain rot together <3 please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!
warnings: cursing, cynicism, reader has an ex boyfriend, inner monologue, carmen's pov, filth, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, possessive!carmen, jealous!carmen, praise, multiple orgasms, use of "sweet girl," reader doesn't like daisies (they're pretty, let's pretend, sorry to all the daisy lovers), past relationship, donna mention, office setting, p in v sex, dom!carmen (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)
word count: 1,750
Tumblr media
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid motherfucker. Who does he think he is? Waltzing into Carmen’s restaurant, the cuffs of his dirt infested denim jeans dragging over Carmen’s pristine floor, said denim jeans hanging low on his hips like an asshole who can’t even present himself to you as an individual who actually gives a fuck. Grant didn’t hold the common courtesy to put on a belt, and Carmen doesn’t believe the man owns one, but if he’s going to saunter in and try and request time with you, Carmen’s girlfriend, then he should at least be decent and dress like he’s attempting to win you back and not as if he just got home after a hard day’s work of laying down brick. Grant doesn’t have a job so that explanation for his asshole outfit and his asshole beanie and his asshole demeanor is not worth excusing him, especially not as he smugly leaned over Carmen’s counter and let his jacket covered elbows smear his Grant-ness all over the surface. Carmen had no choice but to wipe it down with high-grade sanitizer, scrubbing away as if he could scrub away Grant completely out of your and Carmen’s life, since they’re entangled with one another now whether Grant likes it or not.
Carmen shifts his tongue within you utilizing a bit more pressure, undulating the pink muscle in and out until he forms the shape of a well to scoop your slick and curl it into his fervent, perpetual mouth. He gulps you down into the back of his throat, exhaling against your folds at the satisfying, addicting drink equivalent to a desert traveler’s first and desperate swallow of refreshing water. Carmen breathes your scent since it permeates throughout his office space and your wetness coats his cheeks and the tip of his nose, inhaling and exhaling air that causes your thighs to twitch in his hands at the sensation. He ought to be kinder to you, you’re sensitive from the two orgasms he’s endlessly worked out of your cunt, and it’s not your fault Grant continues to be an annoying fixture in your atmosphere having denied his pleas time and time again, but every time Carmen locks eyes with Grant’s lazy, complacent gaze, Carmen feels a surge of jealousy within him compelling him to mark his territory and reinforce the notion of you being his and his alone. Sure, you dated Grant first, but in Carmen’s eyes, you belong to him like you’ve never belonged to anyone.
“Mine,” he utters, slipping his tongue out to lick his puffy, swollen lips clean, exposing his line of thinking as he presses a kiss to your clit, growling and slightly smirking to find the little button still pulsing for him with need. His fingernails dig into the meat of your thighs as you attempt to clamp them around his head, and normally he would let you, but he holds them spread and open for him so he can continue to lap you into the whining mess you’re becoming atop his desk. The downside is how each of those adoring and pleasant sounds are muffled due to your palm actively pressing down against your lips, “good girl” muttered because that’s what he told you to do for him when you started and you’ve done an excellent job of quieting yourself while he practically drowns himself in your cunt. He doesn’t miss the whimper you reward him with at the praise, his right hand generously kneading the flesh of your thigh as a sign that he’s almost done, to just hang on a touch longer and allow him his fill.
“One more,” he promises, “just one more for me, sweet girl, one more,” Carmen litters your pussy and inner thighs with kiss after kiss, stamps of pure affection to calm you down and ready you for his next onslaught. He peers up at you, noticing how your body is trembling just as much as your thighs are, half your ass hanging off the edge of his desk, your upper shoulders slumping partially into the wall behind. Poor thing. Close to sobbing, your eyes glassy from the tears of pleasure that never fall from them, your shirt riding up your stomach since he only bothered to take your pants off in his rush to have you when you came in to check up on him. You deserve his fingers, and he plays around with the idea of sliding them inside you, drumming them against your skin as he thinks about stuffing you with them as his mouth closes over your clit. He’s done it in the past, he knows it would drive you to that climax he currently craves in an instant, but from scanning your disheveled features and writhing frame, his crystal blues eventually attach to the vase of daisies at the side of the two of you, taunting him as they have this entire time.
The notecard sticking out flashes Grant’s name. You don’t even like daisies, you’ve told Carmen, but Grant used to get them for you when he fucked up numerous times throughout your relationship. No matter how much you hated to accept them and therefore reinforced the habit, you would always vase them and frown as they started to immediately die the next morning. That’s who Grant is. He didn’t bother to at least buy you fresh and lively daisies, but the ones right on the verge of dying. Today, months and months into your and Carmen’s relationship, Grant stopped by with vased daisies under the intent of getting you back and they’re actually fucking beautiful, Carmen admits, but they’re pissing him the fuck off. Every glance to them sitting there has brought about this carnal desire to part your legs further for him. The flowers are taunting him, milky and lemony, an assorted arrangement plopped into a blaring, golden vase that Carmen’s mother would definitely keep if she had been gifted it herself, muttering something about hidden treasures, son while storing it away in her cabinet’s hoarding of dishes and “fine china” she gathered from the thrift store. They’re nice. Too nice. Carmen should get you some flowers, he decides to himself, flowers that you would actually like without some underlying motive, simply because he cares about you and because he wants to see your smile light up when he personally hand delivers them.
Fucking Grant. His fucking daisies are taking up too much fucking space on Carmen’s desk and he hates it, he hates that he had to move them from the front of the restaurant into his office so they wouldn’t obstruct the customers, he hates the contents of the notecard begging you to be Grant’s again as if you were ever his in the first place.
“Mine,” Carmen grunts again, lapping up your slit with the full flat of his tongue, dragging it to relish in your taste, in the moan you choke out against your hand, his nose catching between your folds. He glances up at the flowers, the line “want you to be mine again” ringing in his ears from when you read the note aloud to him. Well, fuck you, Grant, he thinks, it’s his tongue and mouth on your cunt and it’s his cock that’s going to be plunging in and out of you tonight on his couch, in his bed, in the shower as you brace yourself with your hands planted on his tile walls.
Fucking cry over it, motherfucker. Fuck your flowers. I’m the one fucking her.
And something… miraculous(?) happens. A single petal falls from the flowers as Carmen licks at you. He watches it swish and sway through the air, descending down until it lands right next to his hand, right on top of your thigh, his thigh.
He pushes his head in further, yanking you by your (his) thighs to meet his mouth as he simultaneously swipes away the petal like it burned you. You squeak out in surprise, your opposite hand flying down to grip the curls in his hair as you sputter above him. Carmen seals his mouth over your clit, done with the teasing, done with his thoughts, and all he wants is to send you over that blissful edge he’s pushed you towards already, stroking you with rolls of his tongue and strong suckles of his suctioned lips. You don’t even last a minute, swaddled pleas of something resembling his name being cried out into your hand, your head bumping into the wall behind as you cream around nothing. He glances down, petting your cunt with merciful, languid brushes of his tongue, in awe of the mess you’re soaking out onto his desk. He drops his jaw lower to catch all of it, close to licking your essence right off the surface if it weren’t for how you’re currently teetering on it. Carmen stands up, unbuckling his belt hurriedly as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, your cunt’s release once on his lips and chin now transferred to the digits and knife tattooed over it.
“Wha-… Carmy?” You ask as you sit up, only for him to pull you by your hips back into position for him. You look so dazed, fucked out beyond belief, and as he manhandles you to spreading your thighs all over again, his elbow knocks the vase of daisies with enough force to send them crashing down to the floor. The glass breaks into scattered shards, causing you to jump, but Carmen doesn’t seem to have noticed. He’s just lining himself up and pushing straight through your walls, well lubricated with his spit and your cum, having been loved on long enough for your shared coworkers to begin questioning your and his whereabouts. You actually yelp this time, grasping at his broad shoulders as you adjust and clench around him. He latches his lips to yours to mute your noises, thrusting away, pounding the cunt belonging to him and no one else, growling as he bites at your bottom lip.
As he steps his feet apart from one another to open your knees up for extra access, glass crunches under his shoe, water splashing under the sole of the other, and a few daisies are crushed as he fucks you with a quickening pace. He’s not worried about it. He’ll get you some tulips or maybe some sunflowers, something pretty for you to look at as he has you bent over the kitchen table tomorrow morning.
Tumblr media
476 notes · View notes
withleeknow · 5 months
Text
wishful thinking. (01)
Tumblr media
chapter one: flutter
Tumblr media
summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.
pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: implied smut, aftercare, mentions of alcohol consumption, hints of oc being a little emotionally constipated lol, barely edited but we should all be used to seeing that from me atp word count: 2.3k note: eeeek my first lino series is here 🥺 there's not much substance in the first part bc we're mostly just setting things up. thank you to my wifeus in the obs server (you know who you are ofc) for being the best cheerleaders, bc i don't think i would've gone through with writing this fic if it wasn't for you. fwb lino probably would've had to gather dust in the attic if you hadn't encouraged me to write him. thank you and love you <3
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › series masterpost › taglist › ko-fi
Tumblr media
Tomorrow when it's over and we're sober I just want to believe that you'll miss me But I shouldn't 'cause we're just friends Now we're day drunk in the back seat of a taxi And you're telling me you wanna kiss me But we shouldn't 'cause we're just friends
Just Friends - Virginia to Vegas
Tumblr media
“Minho.”
“Hmm?”
“Get off of me.”
He doesn’t, of course. Because Minho is stubborn and Minho does whatever he wants sometimes. “No,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there that makes the stupid thing in your chest flutter against your will. You don’t let yourself indulge in the feeling for too long though, only a second. “You’re too warm.”
“Min,” you scold lightly, but you can’t say that you don’t enjoy having his body on yours like this. It’s different than when you’re having sex, because this is more intimate somehow, just him holding you - or rather, resting the entirety of him on top of you like the human version of a weighted blanket. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am! but with a Minho-esque flare that he doesn’t have to appease you with, but chooses to anyway.
One of the reasons why you don’t let yourself relish in the moment is because intimacy isn’t what you signed up for. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what you both agreed on. No strings attached - it was the only instruction, plain and simple.
And so you nudge his shoulder again, making him sigh and begrudgingly sit up, in all of his post-sex glory. Disheveled fluffy hair, a couple of fading marks on his neck courtesy of you, kiss-swollen lips and a kind of glow that you’re fairly certain matches your own.
“Hang on,” Minho says, I’ll get you a towel.”
He quickly throws on his boxers - previously discarded on the floor - and heads to your bathroom. He returns to your side just a couple minutes later with said item in hand, dabbing the soft cloth at your core tenderly.
“You okay?” he asks. “I wasn’t too rough on you tonight?”
You like the aftercare, and how tender he always is with you. You’re not sure if that’s the extra effort that he puts in with everyone he’s ever hooked up with, or if you two are just naturally comfortable around each other, but it’s reassuring. It’s nice to know that this agreement between the two of you hasn’t tarnished your friendship.
Yet?
Yet.
“You were perfect,” you tell him with a coy smile. “I was the one who asked for it anyway.”
Minho chuckles, then pats your bare thigh for good measure as he takes one final swipe at your core before chucking the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of your room.
He plops onto your bed again, propping himself on an elbow so he could look down at your face, highlighted only by the dim light of the small lamp on your bedside table. The way that his bicep flexes still puts you in a bit of a trance, even though you’ve seen it probably hundreds of times already.
“You know, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to try that with you,” he says, eyeing your mouth again. “Didn’t think you’d be down for experimenting new things with me.”
“Well, who else am I supposed to try things out with?”
You’re not even sure what you meant - the words just rolled off your tongue - but you don’t miss the instantaneous look of pride on his face. To hear something like that from you is clearly an ego boost for him.
You don’t miss the subtle blush that tints both of his cheeks and the top of his ears either, but you don’t dwell on it for very long.
Come to think of it, you don’t let yourself indulge in a lot of things when you’re around him.
His free hand comes up to draw imaginary patterns along your arm, starting from your shoulder, down to your elbow, then across your forearm until you could feel his fingers on the back of your hand. “I forgot to mention earlier,” he says, tracing what you think is an invisible outline of a heart on your skin. “Hyunjin knows.”
“Knows what?” you ask.
“He knows that we’re hooking up,” Minho tells you, then clarifies when he sees your eyes widening. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s you. He knows that I’m hooking up with someone.”
You mimic his position, propping yourself up on one elbow so your face is more leveled with his, evidently alarmed at the mention of your friend finding out about a secret that you've been trying to hide for months now.
No, a secret would imply that you have more things you have to conceal. It’s probably more accurate to refer to it as the secret.
Sometimes, even you yourself wonder why this is something you need to hide from everyone. 
It’s not like you’re living in the Victorian era where people are scandalized by the appearance of a bare knee. It’s not like your friends are prudes either; most of them have had their fair share of friends with benefits. It’s all casual, all in good fun.
But maybe it’s because it’s Minho that you’re currently… preoccupied with, that makes you feel less inclined to share with the rest of the group.
If any of them catches wind of this, you know they’ll have loads to say about it, starting with a thorough but well-intentioned lecture from Chan. 
You were good friends before your thing started.
You had a friendship. You had something to lose.
You don’t know why you would even risk it in the first place.
It just happened.
One particularly lonely night. You had some alcohol in your system, and that always made you more sentimental than usual. There was something romantic in the air, or maybe that’s just what you thought looking at everything through the lenses of three glasses of wine. Not drunk, just buzzed enough to be reminded that Minho was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever laid your eyes upon.
But the accumulation of all those factors didn’t matter - couldn’t have mattered - more than the fact that he was there for you.
He listened to you brood over how suffocated you felt, how stagnant your life was, how nothing seemed to be going the way you wanted no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t offer you unsolicited advice, didn’t make you feel silly for moping. He was a soothing presence and that was enough for you.
Sometimes, your friends liked to say that you two would make a good couple because of how compatible you were. Chan once commented that you and Minho were a perfect fit, and that was what kept plaguing your mind moments before you kissed Minho for the first time.
Maybe you’re the missing piece of my puzzle, you had thought back then. My perfect fit.
You had pulled away after a couple of seconds, mortified, but his reaction was immediate. He’d chased after your lips again, no questions asked.
You knew it was a rash decision, spurred on by the heat of the moment and cheap convenience store rosé. Minho was so… goddamn addictive after just one taste that you couldn’t resist anymore. Having him felt like you finally had a taste of water after spending years deprived.
Needless to say, he ended up in your bed that night. The rest is… well, it doesn’t take a genius to deduce the subsequent series of events that led you here.
“Elaborate,” you say with an arch of your eyebrow.
“You texted when he was hanging out at my place and I was in the bathroom.” Minho shrugs. “That nosy little thing. He scrolled through quite a bit of our texts too.”
You frown. “He read our texts but he doesn’t know it’s me?”
“I don’t have you saved as your name.”
“Then what do you have me saved as?”
Up until now, you never even thought about this, and you’ve always just assumed that you’re in his contacts under your name, like he is in your list. Well, technically you have him saved as ‘Min’, but anyone who comes across it could still easily identify who you’re referring to.
Minho purses his lips, contemplating for a minute before he ultimately decides to withhold this information from you. He gives you a teasing smile, another shrug, before saying, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out when the time comes.”
“I don’t get to know what my own name is in your phone? Even Hyunjin knows, apparently.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know it’s you, so what does he really even know?”
“But I have a right-”
“Shhh.” Then he’s leaning forward to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips. It does the job, because you shut right the hell up. It surprises you every time he kisses you when you’re not in the middle of sex. Moments like these are rare, but you’re always rendered speechless by how casually he does it, how familiar the simple action is even when it shouldn’t be, and most of all, you’re dumbstruck by just how right it feels.
“Am I gonna see you before Yeonjun’s party on Saturday?” he asks, like nothing even happened. Your lips are tingling from a simple peck. It’s so silly, considering how just half an hour ago, he was literally inside of you, pounding you into oblivion until you had tears streaming down your face. Until you were crying out his name like it was the only word you’d ever known.
You quickly regain your composure. “I don’t know, maybe. I have a final paper to finish so I’ll probably be holed up here or at the library,” you tell him. “Maybe we’ll catch each other on campus. But if not, then, yeah, I’ll see you at the party.”
Minho seems disappointed, evident from his immediate and adorable pout. 
“It’s just a few days.” You roll your eyes harmlessly, lying back down again to snuggle into your pillow. “You’ll live.”
“Will I?” he grumbles. “What am I supposed to do for four whole days?”
“Don’t you have your finals too?”
“All presentations and papers. Finished the last one today.”
“Oh,” you say, mildly impressed by the fact. You always forget how studious he actually is. “Internships?”
“Already sent in my applications.”
“Changbin says you’ve been talking to that girl Hana in your class.”
You don’t know why you brought it up. You don’t even like hearing the words coming out of your own mouth.
Minho makes a face, almost like he’s taken aback that Changbin would even tell you that. “Because we’re in the same group for our final presentation,” he informs you.
“She seems nice, from what I’ve heard about her. Seems like she has a big fat crush on you too.”
“Not to sound mean, but I don’t really care about that.”
A feeling blooms in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that you cannot and will not give a name to. There’s just something about the way he said it, steadfast, without any hesitation.
“It does make you sound a bit mean,” you tell him.
“I’m just not interested in her.”
“I don’t want to hold up the Minho train if there are other options out there that you want to explore.”
Do you mean it? Yes and no. Part of you wants to be nosy and prod until he fesses up about a potential love interest in his life - if there even is one - so that you could be a good friend that tell him to just go for it, but your curiosity is eclipsed by your selfishness, because you realize that you don’t really want to know if it means the end of this.
Are you being a hypocrite?
Yeah, probably.
He bites his bottom lip as if in thought, just briefly, before he rolls over to lie on his back, staring up at your boring ceiling. “I told you, I don’t care. I’m not interested in any other girl,” he says.
Realistically, you know there will be a finale. It’s only inevitable. One day, he’ll get a girlfriend, or you’ll get a boyfriend - the former seems more likely than the latter - and this arrangement between the two of you will have run its course. Null and void.
It’s part of the reason why you never let yourself relish in him, because you will only be thoroughly disappointed when he gets taken away from you.
As if he’s ever been yours to begin with.
You’ve never belonged to him either.
Neither of you owes the other anything at all.
You blink away the dazed look in your eyes, humming a noncommittal noise in irresolute agreement, before reaching for your phone to check the time. It’s not that late, half an hour shy of midnight, and his place isn’t that long a walk from yours. You know full well that it isn’t much of an excuse, and yet…
“It’s late.”
“Can’t I stay over?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’ll be good. I’ll just sleep next to you.”
“No can do,” you say. “I have a class at 10AM.”
“Me too. I can walk you to campus,” he insists.
There’s something unspoken in his gaze that you can sense but can’t translate. It’s been happening more often lately - you not being able to read him as easily as you could before. You have to admit that it makes you a little unsettled. The unknown that swims in the dark sepia of his eyes.
But maybe you’re overthinking this. Maybe you’re making something out of absolutely nothing.
“Go home, Minho,” you decide, leaving him no room to protest. The instant kicked puppy look on his face makes you feel a little bad, thus prompting you to continue, “I’ll try to see you on campus, okay?”
He looks at you for another moment before he sits up unwillingly. It seems like he has something else to say - something other than a butthurt comment about being bored out of his mind over the next few days - but in the end, he gives up. You notice the way his shoulders slightly slump as he exhales, “Okay.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.11.2023]
520 notes · View notes
efflorescencesims · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
→ t-shirts with a bunch of random things i enjoy! ☆ new mesh, bgc ☆ 11 swatches + 2 bonus swatches ☆ feminine frame / teen-elder ☆ custom thumbnail ☆ disabled for random please lmk if there are any issues, since this is my first real piece of cc!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
*ೃ༄ download (sfs)
since this is a thank-you gift, you will find the thank-you notes under the cut (quite cheesy + long)
first of all: thank you so much for 100 followers!!
i especially want to thank all my mutuals for being such amazing people, hyping me up every time i post and blessing my feed with their incredible talent. i don't normally like singling people out because of my fear of leaving people out but i wanted to give a special special shoutout to @miralure and @simulatd because they are literally the sweetest people ever!!
my page is almost a year old but i've only been consistently active since october and if you look at my earlier posts you can definitely tell my edits have gone through a few transformations. even now i’m not entirely sure what my niche is. i wanted to thank you guys for supporting me even when i give you whiplash while trying to figure out what i want my page to be!
i feel a little proud with the progress i’ve made last year, or rather in the last few months. i’ve started learning how to use blender (which i never thought i’d do) and honestly it’s the most fun i’ve had in a while!! it allows me to realize my silly ideas and has almost no limitations. i’m still very new to it, but i’m looking forward to the this year and to all the progress i’ll make.
as for cc making, i have so much respect for cc creators and what they're able to do. going into this with no experience and time to practice (because i gave myself a stupid time limit) was definitely not my smartest move. these shirts honestly don't look the best, which is a little disappointing but if you don't want them, just ignore them and look at the preview instead (which kind of sucks as well) !!
if you read all of this: thank you!! and if you didn't: thank you still!!
i know i'm a little late but nevertheless i wish everyone a happy new year!! i'm so excited to see what this year has in store for us <33 much love & see you soon (because i do need a short break after this...)
546 notes · View notes
snowy-vee · 2 months
Text
Academic Rivals [One-Shot]
ellie williams x fem!reader
n/a: this is my first ff and first time writing smut🤷🏾‍♀️ PLEASE JUDGE, I love constructive criticism, also English is not my first language! Any misspelling will be edited if anything, I hope you guys enjoy♡ Also I don't think I will ever write "smut" again
HELP GAZA
Tumblr media
You let out a scream that was drowned out by your pillow as you kicked and whimpered like a little girl.
“It’s not fair! Not fair! I was better than her at everything how did she won? I’m a pathetic number two… Mom, why do we have to host this stupid party? I hate this!”
The door to your room was open, and in the doorway, your mother was looking at you as if you were crazy.
“Honey, I already told everyone that I would have a party if you graduated with honours. How would I know that they would make you share them with someone else?”
“And you had to invite Ellie and her friends?”
“It’s called politeness… I don’t care! Wipe away those tears, you should be happy with what you’ve achieved, stop acting like a little girl and get ready, the guests will arrive in no time.”
You looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing all your mask through your eyes. You just had to nod and go prepare a good bath trying to forget in the hot water but how when in happen so recently.
A few hours ago, while you were in class, you were called by the principal to go see him, and you already knew that it was going to be to tell you that you were the student with honours of your promotion. So imagine the surprise when you opened the door and there was someone else.
Ellie fucking Williams. The only student you had competition with, and that irritated you, but even more because it seemed so easy for her. It didn’t matter what the subject matter was; Ellie mastered it quickly, while you had to push yourself a little harder and lose sleep until you understood all the subjects.
The smile you had before you opened the door dropped a little, but the look on your face when the principal said you’d both share the title was funny, at least for Ellie. Once she had dismissed you both from the office, Ellie let out the loudest, most exaggerated laugh befitting a villain.
“It’s not funny! This is inadmissible; it must be a mistake.”
“You’ve heard the old man, there are no mistakes; we tied… I’ll see you tonight at our party.” You’ll never forget her smile and how she looked you up and down before heading out into the hallway.
Going back to the present time, you had already finished cleaning up and could already hear the voice of the guests.
“Your mother says come down now.” The door to your room opened, revealing Ellie leaning against it, “You look good.”
“I’d like to say the same, but you’re wearing jeans,” you said, walking past her and bumping into her shoulder intentionally. What a great night this was going to be.
❀❀❀
The celebration was supposed to end two hours ago, but the adults got along so well that they decided to stay longer. Most of your friends had gone home; only Ellie and her friends Dina and Jesse were still here, but you couldn’t care less since you were in your backyard sitting behind some bushes while drinking the bottle of vodka that you knew your mother wouldn’t miss.
“Here you are,” Ellie said, and you couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look good?”
“For me, you always do,” she said as she sat down next to you, taking the bottle out of your hands and taking a sip. “Fuck, I never thought someone as uptight as you could drink something as strong.”
“Uptight? Wow, I’m sorry, Miss Sunshine. Not everyone has time to fool around, go to every party, do nothing, and still have everything coming handy to them; some of us work hard.”
“I don’t get you; what have I ever done to you? We don’t even talk! You despise me for some school grades? That’s insane,” she chuckled, shaking her head while taking another vodka sip.
“What have you ever done to me?!” This was your final strike: “You just win and win; try to be friends with me as if you pitied me when you don’t even care what you win! You come to class not even knowing what subject you are, and you talk every minute of it, and somehow, you get the highest score,” you snapped.
“And everybody likes you! You are friendly even if you are a dork; nobody gives a fuck about the savage Starlight comics, but there you go talking about it with everyone and you get them to listen to you, but I don’t buy it; I don’t buy your pretty face,your pretty eyes, the way that they shine when you are talking about it, when you laugh so hard that you start crying, how your stupid freckles look so cute when you move your stup-¡hmmp!”
You were silenced by Ellie’s bitter lips because of the vodka; it didn’t matter. Ellie’s fierce and hungry lips claimed yours with an urgency that took your breath away, and the bitterness was soon forgotten, replaced by the sweetness of your peach lip gloss.
Her hands confidently swept around your waist, pushing you closer to her to the point that you ended up on top of her with your hand on either side of her face, cupping her cheeks.
Ellie gently pulled away, revealing the strip of saliva between both mouths, to admire you for a moment. “Now, this is the good and quiet girl I’ve seen in class.” You could feel the embarrassment run through your entire body as you tried to get out of her lap, but Ellie’s grip became tighter on your waist. “I didn’t tell you to move. Don’t you want to continue?”
You bit your lower lip, slowly shaking your head. Ellie nodded, bringing her hands to your neck. The feel of her rough hands undoing the single knot of your halter dress made your body tremble with excitment, more knowing you weren’t even wearing a bra, so when the dress fell gracefully, you were practically naked to Ellie.
A gasp escaped your lips as I felt Ellie’s wet tongue licking your sensitive nipple before putting it all in her mouth, and you thought the scene was so obscene. You were trying to suppress your sounds so that no one inside the house would come out to see where they were coming from.
“Ellie, fuck,” you moaned softly, feeling like your core was getting wet. You needed to kiss her again, so you did it by taking a bit of initiative from the moment she started.
The kiss turned hungry, and you were so lost in it that you didn’t notice when Ellie laid you down on the grass until she broke it, leaving kisses on your neck and down to your belly button. “You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasized about this moment, of having you like this for me.”
“Shut up, you’re still a dork,” you said. Even in this situation where you were submissive, you couldn’t control your mouth. That was so funny for her.
“I think I deserve an apology from you,” Ellie said, bending down to your thighs, both hands at your sides gripping them firmly and kissing.
With one finger, she pushed aside the fabric of your thong. You could feel her breath against your clitoral area. “Don’t you plan to do it? Don’t you think I deserve it?”
She was driving you crazy talking so close to your cunt, “Oh, come on, Ellie, not right now.”
You were getting impatient. Ellie started playing with the straps of the thong as she slowly removed them. “Now or I’ll stop, and none of us want that, right?
“Fuck you, Willia—ah!” didn’t even give you time to cover your mouth, and when Ellie started licking your clit, the slurping sounds made the moment more dirty.
Her tongue was doing wonders, and you felt close. “Say how sorry you are and why.”
She demanded again; now her fingers were lingering around your needy pussycat, teasing you so bad. “I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry for calling you a dork. Just… please, continue.”
You begged, feeling frustrated, but she wasn’t satisfied with that. “There’s more you should be sorry for; keep going.”
Her finger slipped inside your wet pussy easily, and she was going slow with it; she was torturing you. “Uh, Oh, god.”
You couldn’t contain your moans if you also had to say, “Come on, princess.”
The second and third fingers made it more difficult; at this point, this wasn’t teasing; it was a punishment.
“I can’t… I don’t know… Sorry for treating you badly; I was frustrated and took it all on you.”
With that, she quickened her movements. “You were always such a bitch to me. Now look at you, behaving like a slut.”
She let out a little chuckle, seeing how hard you were biting your fingers to not moan loudly, so she kissed you so you could drown them in her mouth.
“Mm cumming,” you mumble in between the kisses before breaking it and letting out a whimper.
Ellie could feel how your walls were wrapping her fingers and how your legs were trembling while she was kissing your neck and whispering things like ‘you did good’,’my princess’…
After you regained composure and got dressed again, you couldn’t look at Ellie in her eyes, but she was staring at you blindly.
“Don’t go around telling people about this.”
“I’d never do that.”
“And don’t think we are friends just because of what happened.”
“I don’t want to be your friend; I want more.”
Who could’ve thought that the girl you’ve been hating on for years would end up giving you the greatest orgasm you’ve ever had?
(even though you barely had any sexual experience.)
And also, she had a crush on you; she had to be the maschochissest to like you after all the bickering you two had, but there she was confessing in a vague way her feelings and waiting for your answer with her green eyes shining intensely.
“I-”
“Honey? Ellie? Where are you, girls? Time to go and say goodbye!” That was your mom’s voice approaching. You kicked the bottle of vodka into the bushes and got out of the hiding space.
“There you girls are; come on, say good-bye; Ellie has to go.”
You look at the auburn-haired girl biting your lip, feeling conflicted. “Bye, Ellie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Not even looking at her again, you entered the house and went upstairs to your bedroom, hearing your mom say good-bye to everyone.
You threw yourself on the bed and stayed looking at the ceiling, thinking about what the fuck just happened and how tomorrow you’d have to give an answer to Ellie.
What was it going to be? Yes or No?
293 notes · View notes
juyeonszn · 2 months
Text
I WANNA TIE THE KNOT
Tumblr media
PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader
WORD COUNT 1.70k
GENRES fluff ﹒smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, it escalates pretty fast ngl, fingering but there’s honestly no real foreplay, u tie hyunjae up with ribbon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap besties), cowgirl position, marking lowkey, scratching, hyunjae is a master at pillowtalk, creampie :P
SUMMARY that coquette bow trend on the internet really isn’t for the faint of heart. at least, that’s what you think when you decide to do it with hyunjae.
MORE 😂😂😂🔫 anyway. i actually wrote this in one sitting. in one night. bc i was insatiable for the coquette trend after a Very Passionate discussion with @kimsohn and @zzoguri <3 delusional sapphics 1, 2, and 3 back at it AGAIN! if u noticed, all 3 of us wrote something involving these godforsaken bows. this fic was a long time coming seeing as i wrote it a month ago but i remembered it was valentine’s day so,,,, here u go! pls dont forget to reblog if u enjoyed <3
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn
Tumblr media
“Can we try this?”
Hyunjae raises an eyebrow at you when you shove your phone in his face, scooting up higher from where you were laying on his lap. He watches the video with mild amusement. 
“You want to tie a bow around my bicep?” He asks you, as if your request was so far-fetched and out of the ordinary. He had nice arms, he’d look cute with a ribbon wrapped around it. The whole coquette vibe matched well with his pretty face. 
“Yeah, why not? It’s a cute trend. And at least I’m not suggesting the one where I tie your mouth shut,” you rest your cheek on his chest, blinking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Please, Jae? For me?”
It’s a little comical when you physically see the war waging in his head. He wants to decline, thinks the idea of you putting one of your ribbons around his fucking bicep is kind of stupid, but he could never say no to those eyes. Lee Hyunjae was a weak, weak man. 
So he agrees. 
Next thing he knows, you’re filming him flexing with the cute little bow on his arm to post on your social media. He should feel silly, standing still so you can record the perfect shot, but he doesn’t. You look so cute with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth, he feels his mind straying from the original plan. 
He wraps his arms around your waist when you go to edit the video, preparing to post it publicly. You squirm as his lips make contact with the sensitive spot below your ear, kissing tenderly and sweetly. “Jaehyun….”
Your warning tone does not dispel his efforts to distract you, the tips of his fingers dipping below the waistband of your sleep shorts. The pads drag along your hip bones while his mouth travels lower on your neck, nipping at the soft skin visible beneath your top. “Yes, my love?”
“Don’t fucking ‘my love’ me right now,” you whine, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to the surface. “You know what you’re doing.”
“Is it working?” Hyunjae teases, thumb applying the slightest amount of pressure on your clothed clit. “Are you gonna let me fuck you with these pretty bows on?”
The groan you release is guttural, because god your boyfriend knew how to turn you on like a damn light switch. Your eyelids flutter shut and your head falls back on his shoulder, phone slipping out of your grasp and onto the floor. His finger moves in tight circles on the bundle of nerves, cupping the rest between the apex of your thighs. Fuck, he was starting to get the better of you. 
“Y-Yes, but on— mmm— on one condition,” you force yourself to stay steeled, keeping your voice as stable as possible. 
“And what is that?” Hyunjae nibbles your earlobe, teeth grazing the shell and sending goosebumps all over the expanse of your skin. His ring finger presses up on your entrance over your dampened underwear, making you clench around nothing. 
Oh he was a dead man. You were going to make him pay. 
“You w-wear the ribbons,” your breathing hitches. “Let me— let me tie you up. I’ll make it worth your while, Jae. P-Promise…”
He halts his motions, like he’s contemplating your words carefully. It’s not like much would change, to be honest. Hyunjae would still be the one in control after a certain point. You just wanted the excuse to bind the smug motherfucker for once. And to keep the bows on him, but around his wrists this time. 
Hyunjae retracts his hands from your shorts to remove his shirt, the heat radiating against your back from his bare torso. Your chest heaves up and down as you watch him climb back to the head of the bed, sweatpants low on his hips. It takes a whole fucking lot of self restraint not to jump his bones then and there, but you manage, straddling his waist so you can tie his wrists to the bed posts with your pink satin ribbon. Your hands are shaky, like your breathing, but he doesn’t point it out, letting you have your fun. 
A low grunt escapes his lips when you pull on the fabric, ensuring it’s tight enough to hold him still but loose enough not to leave a mark. It doesn’t help that he can feel you pulsating through your sleep shorts onto his abdomen, his muscles contracting underneath you. 
You aren’t really sure if you can even keep up your own act, grinding down on his lap like a bitch in heat. It’s embarrassing how easy it is for him to work you up without so much as touching you. You knew if you didn’t stop now, you’d dry hump him until you were a quivering mess, fully clothed and all. Hyunjae knows you’re needy, too, the corner of his lips quirking up. 
“Can we— god— can we just s-skip the foreplay?” You whine into the crook of his neck, hooking your fingers into his sweatpants. “Want you inside me already…”
“Of course, baby, you know I’ll never say no to you,” he coos, mouth finding yours to kiss you slowly, gently, passionately. 
You push his pants and underwear down in one go, using your feet to kick them away so you can undress yourself as fast as possible. Your desperation is too strong to pretend it’s not there, so you give into your own carnal desires. Hyunjae hisses when your cunt hovers over his cock, so slick that it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside completely. 
Every time you have sex with him, you feel so full, the weight of his cock so deep in you that you see stars well before he’s even moved. You support yourself with a hand on each of his shoulders, lips still molded with his as you begin to bounce meticulously. Your moans are muffled with his kiss, practically impaling yourself on his dick. 
Your hips roll experimentally, throwing your head back with a drawn out moan and your nails clawing down his chest when he hits that particular spot inside your pussy. Hyunjae lets out a sound akin to a strangled moan, wanting nothing more than to get his hands all over your body so he can fuck you six ways to Sunday. 
He bends his knees to make it a bit smoother for you, relishing in the way you’re losing yourself to your pleasure without him having to do a single thing. You’re just rutting against him at this point, legs beginning to give out this early. 
“Don’t— mmm— Hyunjae, I can’t— ‘s too much,” your speech is already slurred, words blurring together and making hardly any sense. 
“Let me get out of these, baby,” he tugs at the ribbons. “I’ll fuck you so good, my love. I’ll give you— fuck— what you want.”
You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to say anything remotely coherent. Thankfully, Hyunjae takes note of the lack of strength you currently have, not expecting you to untie the knots on his wrists without struggle. You watch with heavy lids and he pulls harshly, tearing the satin binding him to the bed frame. So much for them being secure…
Your top half collapses into his chest and he grasps at your waist roughly, having half the mind to flip you over and pin you to the mattress. Instead, he presses up into you, slow at first so he can regain his bearings after being tied up, and then he’s bucking up into your pussy like a jackrabbit. 
“Thought you could take me—“ he cuts himself off with a groan. “Thought you could take me all by yourself like a big girl, huh?” 
Whining in response is all you can do, almost on the verge of tears. The sounds of your cunt sucking him in, squelching echoing around the bedroom, are nearly enough to knock you over the edge. The coil in the pit of your stomach stretches more and more, teeth sinking into his collarbone and marking up his supple, sweaty skin like it was your day job. His blunt nails dig into the fat of your hips as a means of grounding himself, holding back from finishing before you because you were his top priority. 
Your nimble fingers sneak between your bodies to massage your oh-so-sensitive clit, ring and middle digits working at double their usual speed. Hyunjae stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you try desperately to get yourself off. He thinks you’re gorgeous every second of every day, but for some reason, you look fucking breathtaking right now. 
“My pretty girl, taking it like a champ,” he grits his teeth. “You love when I fuck you like a pornstar, don’t you?” 
It’s when he connects your lips in a kiss so sweet it puts all the others to shame and so polar-opposite to the filth the two of you were committing, that you cum without warning, velvety walls constricting around his cock. Your head is empty and your vision goes white for a moment, static ringing in your ears. He follows immediately after, moaning into your mouth as he does so. You swallow the noises while your breathing stutters, the sensation of him filling you up with all he can give blindsiding your senses. 
You stay sandwiched together as you both calm down, tired and achy from such strenuous activity. When you stop to think about the cause of these events, you snort until it morphs into an uncontrollable laughter. (Then you wince because Hyunjae’s dick was still inside of you.)
“What’s so funny?” He furrows his eyebrows, making no effort to move. 
“That fucking bow trend led to one of the best orgasms of my life,” you’re still laughing, chin on your hands, which are folded over his chest. “It’s so stupid.”
“The bows are cute. Maybe you should let me try tying you up with them next time.” Hyunjae pecks your forehead, running his fingers through your hair. 
“Trust me,” you giggle, a yawn threatening to push past your lips. “There will definitely be a next time.”
Tumblr media
© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
289 notes · View notes
sukuna-dees-nuts · 3 months
Text
@nessieartss i did it again lol
based on this ask and this ask because i couldn't get "rizzless sukuna" out of my head 😭 (and also Maki being one of Sukuna's friends is relevant which is why i tagged that ask)
anyway, please enjoy!!
Edit: part 2!!
---
Sukuna can’t keep the scowl off his face as he watches Yuuji from across the courtyard. He watches as his little brother effortlessly jokes with his friends, his face and movements animated enough that they’re clear even from so far away. Yuuji has always been the more charismatic of the two brothers; always the one to make friends first. 
Yuuji throws his head back in laughter, casually throwing his arm around Megumi’s shoulders. Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy in his gut and he can’t stop the grunt that escapes his throat. 
How ridiculous is he? Getting jealous over nothing. It’s laughable. Sukuna doesn’t get jealous! 
Except… the more he watches his little brother interact with Megumi, the more he finds himself wishing that he could hang out with Megumi—
“Oh fuck me,” he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 
Sukuna looks up. Maki takes a seat next to him on the steps, a meticulous brow arched in intrigue. He’s quiet for a moment as he rests his elbows on his knees. While he considers Maki to be one of his closest (and one of his only) friends, Sukuna briefly contemplates brushing his inner turmoil aside. This is her cousin, after all. Would she really want to hear about Sukuna’s stupid crush that he barely acknowledges himself?
Ah, fuck it, he thinks and sits up straighter. 
“How do you ask someone out?”
Maki blinks, taken aback by the question. She holds Sukuna’s gaze as if trying to gauge whether or not he’s being serious. Her mouth presses into a thin line.
“Depends on who you’re wanting to ask out,” she responds with a casual shrug. As she reaches up to fix her ponytail, she asks, “Are you saying that you’ve never asked anyone out before?”
Sukuna sniffs and says nothing, running his tongue over his teeth. His attention turns to his nails, examining them for any chips in the nail polish.
“It’s never been relevant before,” Sukuna grumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maki shift. She nods slowly with a hum of acknowledgement. 
“So, who is it?” Maki asks.
“Huh?” 
“The person you want to ask out, who is it?” she asks again.
This time, Sukuna hesitates to answer. He’s never been one to be ashamed of his preferences; he always makes his thoughts clear whether it shows on his face or in his words. Like the time when Sukuna argued that the Star Wars franchise was “extremely overrated” and Yuuji nearly had a heart attack (he still hasn’t let it go).
Finally, with a sigh, Sukuna answers in another grumble, “Fushiguro.”
The silence that stretches out between them is loud. Sukuna thinks for a moment that Maki might have gotten up and left. When he looks to the side, he finds that she’s still sitting there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He fully expects her to start laughing at him, but, she doesn’t. 
Maki continues staring at Sukuna until he narrows his eyes at her, opening his mouth to tell her to just forget about it and fuck off—
“Oh, you’re actually serious,” she huffs. “For a moment I thought you were pulling my leg.”
Sukuna feels his irritation ebb and he rolls his eyes. “Why the hell would I make a joke like that? There are other things I could use to bully you with. Like your stupid glasses. They don’t fit your face.”
Ignoring the comment, Maki goes on, “Fushiguro isn’t one for extravagance. If you really want to ask him out, you should pull him off to the side and ask him privately. He’d appreciate that.” The bell rings, signaling that it’s time for the next class. Maki and Sukuna get to their feet. 
“Also, it would do you well to work on your tactfulness,” the girl adds over her shoulder as she begins to walk away.
Sukuna flips her off. “Fuck you. I’m not asking you for advice anymore.”
He watches as his friend heads back inside before turning his attention back to Megumi who is walking in the opposite direction of his two friends. Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, exhaling a long breath. 
It’s another few seconds of watching Megumi walk before Sukuna’s feet start moving, carrying him in the same direction and he mentally curses at himself again.
Fuck it. Let’s do this.
323 notes · View notes