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#I guess it is a bit buried down there now
bunnys-kisses · 2 days
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vegetable patch (3)
farmer!captain john price & (brief) hybrid!simon
cw: hybrid au, bunny!reader, farmer!price, pregnant!reader, pregnancy, man-handling, fingering, pwp/smut, full nelson (sex position), oral sex (f receiving), threesome, guard dog!simon, double penetration, older!price, mindbreak, (there's a lot happening),
part one (simon) | part two (simon & johnny)
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!
john never thought it would get to this. when he bought the farm and raised his hybrid guard dogs, he never expected to have a bunny around. let along a pregnant one.
but almost six months into your pregnancy, he had grown affectionate of you. sure you were a bit to handle sometimes, but in a way pregnancy, a roof over your head and a fully belly (in both ways) has made you softer. less of a wild animal and more of a pet.
it was cute.
the one thing that didn't change was your insatiable lust. originally price thought that two strong hybrid dogs would take care of your little bunny cunt, but not even those could stop you. let alone the heaviness of your middle.
the boys were out patrolling the yard with you safe in the house. you were curled up on simon's doggy bed with your hands on your belly and your hands situated on your belly with your head propped up on a pillow.
it was cute, john found himself almost enamored by the sight of you as he relaxed on the couch with a beer in his hand. you were just so small, the little bit of chub at your hips only made you seem cuter.
he got up from the couch and left the beer on the table as he walked toward you. he crouched down and rubbed your cheek. you leaned into his touch and whimpered a little. he chuckled and said, "good girl."
your eyes opened a little and you looked up at price, "what time is it?" your little tail did a wiggle under the over-sized shirt that you wore. he chuckled and pulled you close to him.
he fully sat down on the floor and took you into his arms, delicately. his hand grazed your middle, "not even close to lunch, the boy's are still out. it's just you and i."
you dipped your nose into the crook of his neck and you whimpered, "i feel wet."
"yeah, havin' wet dreams about simon, mama?"
"no." you said, "about you." as your hand reaches for his shirt and you held onto it. you buried your face deeper into his neck as he held you on the hardwood floor.
price's eyes went wide for a moment but then slowly got up with you in his arms. it was like holding a sack of potatoes. the most prominent part of you was the puppy was slept soundly in your belly.
"then i guess we must go to bed then. i know you love simon's bed, but my knees and back won't let me fuck you on the floor." his voice was gruff.
you giggled, "be gentle, baby's sleeping."
"of course, bunny." he replied as he brought you upstairs to his bedroom. there was a spare room for guests and an extra room for the three hybrids of his home.
but right now he was taking you to his room where he could fuck that sweet bunny cunt. it hadn't been the first time he had ever done it, but every time it was something else. a wild little hybrid now tamed and under his gentle care, the way he tamed his boys.
the bed was large and soft, he placed you down and started to work on the jeans he wore followed by the flannel of his shirt. he was hairier than simon and johnny, who had tufts here and there to show their hybrid heritage. but price was hairy that was a man was.
you wondered if a human got a hybrid pregnant then what would the baby be. because from the size of price, you were certain to have a heavy newborn. you got off your shirt and sat there naked on the bed, exposed to your farmer.
his large hands touched your belly gently, thumb grazed the stretch marks, "keepin' the little pup nice and safe, huh? bein' a good mama for me?
you nodded, "only the best for you, sir."
he reached down and rubbed your chubby little cheek, "i can see why simon trapped ya." he chuckled, "cute thing like you shouldn't be wandering the woods. that little cottontail will get into too much trouble."
he got onto the bed and man-handled you into his lap, he wanted to feel you as deep as he could. he wanted to know the inside and outside of bunny cunt. but the position he got you into was more of a wrestling move to keep you pinned against him.
you put your knees up to your head and he had your arms pinned back against him. your squirmed a little, you sort of loved the idea of being trapped. john was propped up against the oak headboard with his little pet bunny in his lap with her cunt soon full of his cock.
it was a little hard to do with such a big belly in the way, you had to squish it a little as you were moved to fit his position. you faced the door that led out of the bedroom and with a few misplaced thrusts, you moaned when price sank his cock into you.
"ah, sir!" you whimpered.
he thrusted into you and kept you in the position. it tested you physical limits but john was a strong man and you were a flexible bunny. after all you had to get through his fence somehow. but now you were all nice a plump with child.
price groaned at the idea of you pregnant with his child next. such a sweet little bunny carrying the farmer's seed made his cock throb while buried inside of you. you sweet noises were music to his ears.
"you like that, mama." he groaned, "you like when i fuck you hard?" he kissed the shell of your ear, "simon got lucky to have a taste of you first, because if it were me. if i caught you in my vegetable patch, then you'd never get the taste of my cock out of your mouth."
you kicked your legs out a little bit as he sank into your further, as deep as it would go. you could feel his cock pressed against your womb. your ears twitched and you felt soaked.
"you'd like that wouldn't you. maybe a little bit more time before you go on birth control would do you some good. see if you can take this old man's seed in your pretty, fertile cunt." he grumbled, "bunnies are known for their many babies."
you felt something churn in your stomach as your pregnant belly bounced with every hard thrust. the sex was rough, heat filled the air as you two moved together.
"i like how you look, mama. all swollen with pup. i bet it was so easy for you, took simon's seed so nicely." he purred as he held you tightly, making it slightly uncomfortable.
but you felt on cloud nine, until the bedroom door opened. and on the otherside was none other than your lover, simon. you whimpered and kicked out your legs.
simon was covered in muck, blood across the shirt he wore. he watched you as you were cock drunk and raised an eyebrows, "price." he said, "what are you doin' with my girl."
"she needed a little tlc, simon." he replied, "you know what bunnies are like. they could be having thirteen kits and still beg for another." he looked over your shoulder and asked, "what the hell did you get into."
"had to scare of a coyote." simon replied, "he could smell bunny all the way from the fence. that's how i knew you were fuckin' her."
"then get that shirt off and help me out." john replied as his pace became harder. you saw stars and your mouth hung open for a moment in pure lust.
with his shirt off and dropped to the floor, followed by, his jeans. he was soon on the bed and licking at your sweet cunt as price fucked you. you were trapped between the two men and you felt a dizziness in your mind.
this was somehow more intense than the threesome you had with johnny and simon. simon only let those in his 'pack' have a taste of his pregnant mate, which meant coyotes like graves were off limits. if simon ever saw graves' paws on you.
simon kept your legs open with his strong hands, the tips of his claws left indents in your skin as he lapped at your cunt. his tongue did touch price's cock which made the older man feel hot all over.
you were the loudest out of the three of you, your voice was high pitched and you felt so full. you squirmed against both men but they kept you still as best as they could.
you came once, then twice, the three times from the pleasure from both men. it was sensory overload. your mind went blank by the third orgasm that the men pulled from you. which left simon painfully hard.
"got any room in there, price." simon said as he pulled away from your cunt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. his cock stood at full attention in his underwear.
"well, she'll need a good stretch if she's havin' your pup." price chuckled, he could feel himself getting closer. you on the other hand were mindlessly moaning without being able to form words.
your pussy was so wet that he slid in next to price with ease. the stretch made you whimper like an animal, but soon you were dropped back into the depths of pleasure as both men used you.
price let go of your arms but caged you with his around your middle. you felt sore, but your brain couldn't register much. your mouth hung open and drooled a little. your brain felt like it was broken in half.
"i know you can't smell it, price." simon said, "but bred bunny smells the best." his hands were on your belly and soon were price's. simon felt superior for having seeded you first.
sure his other packmates had their fun, but everything from the pup in your belly to the cotton on your tail was his. he watched your gasp for air as you tried to formulate thoughts.
his poor pregnant mate, such a beating to your pussy. but it was okay, he knew that you liked it. bunny's had a pension for a little pain.
both men, fucked you without much abandon. they ever managed to pull one last orgasm out of you which tore from your throat as you went limp against price's hairy chest. the feeling of two cocks inside of your cute little cunt was just too much.
and not wasting any seed, they flooded your poor pussy with human and hybrid seed alike. they stayed in you for a moment more before they pulled out at the same time. cum oozed out of you and simon petted your belly.
"johnny's gonna be jealous he didn't get to join." price remarked.
simon replied, "before he went out on patrol with me. he stuffed a sock in her mouth and fucked her in his bed on the floor. she's got all of our seed in her."
price held you in his arms as you twitched and moaned from the aftershocks of your activity. he watched simon kiss you before he rubbed your belly, "good mama. good little bunny, now you rest and keep growing that pup. simon and i will come back for you later."
you managed to give them a weak nod, your brain felt flat-lined but the lingering feelings of pleasure still shook you to your core <3
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revengeghoulette · 2 days
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Matcha Latte w/Rose
Part 2: The Date
They go on their date!!
A/N: Bit of a time skip. It's not like the best thing I've written, but it'll do :) It gets a little steamy but not enough to be considered Spicy. Mostly edited.
WC: 3k
Sorry in advanced, you'll see. -Rev.
Playlist: The Rosy Crown
tagging: @obsidianghoul (ily, sorry I banned you), @sovaghoul @gottagho-st @clouds-bitch @crystalameoba @cheerycherrycandy-resurrected @foxybouquet @ghostlylivres @hypnoneghoul
It’s been almost 3 weeks since Swiss asked Mountain out on a date, and preparations for the midterm rush at The Rosy Crown are in full swing. Mist, Sunny and Swiss have been organizing the schedule to ensure that last year's snafu doesn’t occur again. They accidentally left The Rosy Crown with no staff for about 3 hours in the middle of the night, and they also ran out of flour and butter. They promised that moving forward reparations would begin several weeks before exam weeks to avoid any issues the week of.  
Mountain has been busy with office hours, lectures, and a garden club he offered to be an advising faculty member for. He tries his hardest to make sure to be at the cafe before Swiss’ shift ends so they can walk home together, but there’s been a handful of nights where he doesn’t make it. He regrets assigning so much homework. He makes a mental note to adjust the workload for next semester, especially since he’ll be teaching two additional courses. 
On the nights Mountain can’t make it to the cafe, he shoots Swiss a message to let him know so he doesn’t worry. If it's truly a rough day, he forgets all together. 
Swiss will do anything to spend time with his favorite person. He happily walks to campus with some snacks and a warm drink, to find him buried in stacks of papers gripping a red pen. He takes a seat on one of the comfy chairs Mountain has in his office, and reads the random magazines he has lying around.  
“Is gardening like your favorite thing to do, or what? You’ve got so many magazines here about greenhouses and what not, and you’ve got a little gardening gang now,” Swiss questions, laughing at the end, referring to the gardening club.
“It's… yeah. You know how we, ghouls, have an element attached to us? I’m an earth ghoul, hence the name Mountain. I have a special connection with the earth, so, yeah, gardening, and all things nature,” Mountain informs him.
“Oh, I guess I never really thought about it. I know we have ties to elements, but my parents weren’t very into that, I guess? They tried to assimilate more to the human culture, so we didn’t lean into it.”
After a moment, Swiss began getting a little antsy, distracting Mountain, “Honey, what is it? You're getting fidgety.”
Swiss blushes at hearing the earth ghoul call him honey. “Would you… help me connect with my elements? According to my parents, I have a mix of them. It's where my name came from, actually.”
Mountain sets down his pen and removes his glasses. “Wait. Swiss… Like, Swissarmy knife? Because you’re a multi ghoul.”
Swiss nods slowly. 
Mountain lets out a hearty chuckle, “That’s very cute, but absolutely, it would be my pleasure. I’m done here though. Why don’t we pick up some food and go home?”
Standing up from his chair, Swiss grabs Mountain’s coat and helps him put it on before walking out the door hand in hand. 
Swiss and Mountain have only been going out for a few short weeks, but their connection is so much more than typical crush. They have routines, they call each other during downtime just to say hello, Mountain continues to stop by The Rosy Crown every morning, and Swiss helps Mountain with grading or understanding typical young adult behavior. It seems like neither of them can spend the night alone anymore. There’s something tugging them together. 
They haven’t had their first official date, but all the hang outs are everything and more. 
With midterms week upon them, Swiss, Mist and Sunny have been living at The Rosy Crown filling in for their student staff. Mountain has been at the shop every single day volunteering to help bus tables, or go around and restock supplies and books. 
Mist has gotten on his case multiple times about it before, claiming that it's not his job, that he’s probably breaking some sort of labor law by helping them. Mountain assures her it falls under volunteer work and she doesn't need to worry. Swiss admires that Mountain puts up with Mist’s fighting spirit and constantly thanks him for helping, but reassures him he doesn’t have to.
“I do it because I want to. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Mountain reassures him back. With a quick kiss on the forehead, they go back to their duties. 
Ever the creep, Sunny watches them interact. She’s never seen Swiss be so enthralled by another being before. He’s putty in Mountain’s hands. The forehead kiss sent her over the edge. 
He walks past her, and she takes this opportunity to corner him, “Dude. What the fuck. Where did you find him? He’s amazing! And he’s been so much help! Please tell me you’re gonna dick him down soon! Omg, does he have a sister?”
Swiss grabs Sunny by the arms and shakes her playfully. “Sunny, breathe. Calm down! He’s pretty amazing, huh?” 
“Who knew the playboy would settle down,” she teased, earning a glare from Swiss. “I'd snatch him from you, but I like the ladies. They're not as stinky.” Sunny makes a disgusted face before cackling and running away from Swiss’ reach He grins, rolling his eyes at her antics. Who knew the calm quiet child would grow up to be anything but calm and quiet. 
-
After a rough week of long nights, The Rosy Crown closes the weekend after midterms. Students are mostly gone on spring break, and the staff is exhausted. Swiss gives everyone a long weekend to recover and start fresh on the following Wednesday. 
Mountain wakes up with Swiss’ arms around him. He takes a moment to admire the features on Swiss’ face, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and the horns protruding from his head. He was perfection incarnate. The gold flakes in his horns match the gold flakes in his eyes, his muscles defined by all the manual work he puts into baking, his tail wrapped around his own leg as if cuddling with him, there is no other ghoul that could match his beauty.  
He gets up quietly, placing the blanket over Swiss body, and goes to the living room. He knows Swiss isn’t waking up anytime soon, especially after the week they just had. Mountain brews a fresh pot of coffee and takes a seat on the couch, wrapping a blanket over himself. The air is getting crisper with the approaching winter, he can feel it in his bones, and see it in his hair. He's luckily able to glamour that. He picks up a random book Swiss has lying about, and begins to read it while he waits for sleeping beauty to wake up.
In the other room, Swiss wakes up alone. He feels around for Mountain, but he doesn’t find him. Groggy, he gets up and sees he's reading the book Mist said was good, but truth is… It’s trash. The writing is terrible, but the smut is hot. 
He wanted to stare at Mountain forever, but he was getting chilly and he looked so warm. Swiss quietly makes his way over before crawling on top of Mount, startling him. 
“Good morning sweetheart,” Mountain sets the book down, rubbing his hands up and down Swiss’ back while his face was smushed against him lower belly. He mumbled something in response, but Mountain couldn’t make it out. 
They adjusted themselves so that Swiss was underneath the blanket, cuddling Mountain on the couch. Sleeping beauty dozed off, and Mountain picked up the book again. After a little while, Swiss started to wake up again. Mount felt movement under him, so he set the book down and started rubbing the back of his finger up and down Swiss cheek gently. 
“You’re warm,” Swiss gets out in a groggy voice, snuggling further into Mountain. 
“Mm I know honey. I’m also hungry, and need more coffee. This book is lulling me back to sleep,” Swiss hums in agreement, “I’m gonna make us some breakfast, sweetheart.”
After they get up, Swiss warms up the coffee and starts to make breakfast for the both of them. Mountain complains because he was supposed to make breakfast, not the other way around, especially since he had a long week at the shop, but Swiss wasn’t having it. They argue back and forth for a little bit.
“I’m taking you on that date today. I’m picking you at 6,” Swiss announces as he places pancakes on a plate for Mountain.  
“Oh, thank you,” Mountain takes the plate. “Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”
“Nope, it’s a surprise. A little something I’ve been cooking up for a while,” Swiss says before taking a seat and cutting up his pancakes. “Wear something comfortable, and something you wouldn’t mind getting a little… dirty.”
“Are you going to explain?” the earth ghoul questions. 
“Nope,” Swiss says with a wink.
-
Swiss knocks on Mountain's door right at 6pm, not a minute early, not a minute late, exactly at 6. 
Mountain opens the door wearing a dark green Henley and black jeans. “Is this okay?” Mountain asks. 
Swiss is stunned, He just stared at Mountain for a little bit before stuttering out, “Oh, definitely. You look fantastic.” 
Swiss hands Mountain some flowers he picked up earlier that day. Placing them inside, Mountain locks up and walks down the steps, taking Swiss hand.  
“Where are we going?” The tall ghoul inquires. 
“Somewhere. Don’t worry about it sweetheart.”
After walking a few minutes down the road, they reach their destination: The Rosy Crown Cafe & Bookshop. Swiss lets go of Mountain’s hand and opens the door.
 “Swiss, what are we doing here?”
“We are on a date, my good sir. Come on.”
Swiss opens the doors and walks Mountain inside. It takes a moment for Mountain to take everything in. The blinds are all down, and there’s total privacy. Looking around, he sees strings of light are hung up, there’s a table with candles lit in the center and on either side there's a table placement and two dishes served. Soft music is playing in the background, creating a romantic, intimate space for them. 
“Swiss… how?”
“The ladies might have helped.” He smiles almost sheepishly up at the taller ghoul. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Swiss guides Mountain to the table, pulls out the chair for him before taking a seat himself. On the plate there is a serving of roasted potatoes, a kale asian salad, and a plate of creamy mushroom risotto with a fresh baked dinner roll on the side.
They dive into the meal prepared by Mist and Sunny. The earth ghoul talked about his uni work, biodegradable research projects amongst other things. Swiss cracked some jokes and delved more about his parents and his childhood. He grew up surrounded by humans and had very few interactions with ghouls. He met Sunny and Mist in elementary school and have been inseparable since then. They’re family, a pack, if you will. Mountain sips on his wine while watching Swiss enthusiastically tell stories from his childhood. 
As they finish their food, Swiss gathers their plates and sets them to the side, mentally noting to take care of them later. 
“I have something special planned for dessert, follow me,” Swiss stands up, and offers a hand to Mountain. He takes him to the kitchen, and ties an apron around him. 
“I want to ask what we're doing, but you’re not gonna tell me.” 
“You know me so well, but fine, I’ll tell you. We’re making cinnamon rolls.”
Swiss had pre-measured out the flour, cinnamon, butter, and the rest of the ingredients and placed them on the counter. 
“Oh, by 'we're making them' you mean I'm making them?!”
“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ll help.”
Swiss dumps the flour on the counter, forming a well in the center. “First, you’re going to incorporate a few things into the flour. Here,” Swiss hands Mountain a few things and he dumps them into the well. “Now mix them up using the fork, then make the well again.” 
Mountain does as he’s told. Swiss works on mixing the wet ingredients for him. “I’m going to slowly mix this in. First use the fork,” Swiss pours a small amount of the wet ingredients, making sure everything is incorporated before adding more. “Great, now use your fingers. Make your hand into a claw and mix it in. As it gets stickier, start to knead.  It’s going to get pretty sticky, but keep kneading. I still need to add in some more flour.”
Swiss stands back, watching Mountain mix the ingredients so gently, “You’re going to have to be a little rougher baby,” he states after dumping in a few more cups of flour.
Mountain starts to get tired from kneading since he’s been going at it for a few minutes. 
“Swiss, this is hard. I’m getting tired,” he complains. 
 That's not the only thing that's hard, Swiss mumbles under his breath. 
Swiss stands behind him, slightly pushing his hips against Mountain’s back, and helps him knead. Mountain turns his head back, they stare into each other's eyes for a second, and lean in, lips meeting at a feverish pace. 
“Let me take over Mount.” Swiss mumbles into the kiss. He quickly finished kneading the dough while Mountain stands behind him, kissing his neck, hands roaming his body, leaving a trail of flour and dried dough on his clothes, especially his ass.
Swiss sets the bowl with the dough aside, Mountain takes this as an opportunity to grab him and press him against the counter. He leans into Swiss, his ass pressing against the counter, he towers over Swiss for a moment before kissing him with all his might.
Swiss’ arms immediately go to the back of the Mountain’s head, pressing him closer to his mouth, fingers playing with his hair. Swiss pulls on his hair to see what kind of reaction he would get, and he got the best reaction possible. A moan escaped Mountain’s lips as his head was pulled back, foreheads joining after Mountain lets out a whine from Swiss still pulling his hair back. Mountain wanted nothing more to get Swiss naked right then and there.
“Mount…” Swiss whispers, fearing that if he spoke any louder, the moment would be ruined. 
“I'm gonna kiss you again.” Mountain announces in the same quiet tone. 
Mountain goes for Swiss neck, inhaling his scent before lightly kissing him in that little patch near his ear. He wants to bite, he knows and recognizes what this attraction is but Swiss doesn’t. He can't jump the gun and do something that could probably destroy their souls. 
Without realizing, he shakes his head, shaking the thoughts away, Swiss is too high on the love right now to catch Mountain's head shake. Instead, he moans when Mountain begins to kiss down the front of his neck to his collarbones. Tracing the outline of those delicate, sensitive bones. Swiss throws his head back, opening himself more for Mountain. His hands still tangled in his hair, tugging lightly every now and then. He leaves a few hickeys on Swiss collarbones before returning to his lips. Swiss feels Mountain's fangs when he slides his tongue into his mouth, both of them fighting for dominance. Mountain’s hands are gripping Swiss hips so tightly there's bound to be bruising tomorrow.
They hear a distant beeping that’s becoming louder and louder, then they realize it was the timer letting them know the dough was done proofing. Swiss pushes Mountain away softly. 
“Give me a second, and then we can continue, we should get these into the oven,” Swiss pants. 
Mountain, panting equally as hard, nods, but he doesn’t let go of him. He holds Swiss by the waist, continuing to kiss his neck while he rolls out the dough and spreads the cinnamon sugar butter on the dough before rolling and cutting them.
Placing the rolls into the oven, Swiss turns and continues to make out with Mountain. Without clearing out the counter, Mountain hoists Swiss up to the counter. The slightly shorter ghoul now towering over him. His hands start to roam underneath Swiss’ shirt, claws scratching lightly into his skin, enough to leave a faint raised line.
“Mount… more,” is all Swiss is able to get out. Mountain unbuttons part of Swiss shirt to give him access to his torso where he licks his V-line, tempted to go below his belt, but he stops himself. Maybe the coffee shop is not the place to suck his soul out through his dick. 
The timer goes off again letting them know the cinnamon rolls were done baking.
Mountain looks up at Swiss’ face, pleading with his eyes to not get off the counter. Swiss laughs and hops off, heading straight to the oven. 
“Would you mind grabbing the frosting from the fridge?”
Mountain nods and hands it to Swiss, who smears it on the warm cinnamon rolls, melting the frosting. 
Mountain discreetly adjusts himself and fixes his clothes before sitting on the bar. He can’t help but stare at the reminder of what occurred just moments ago. Hair messy, lips swollen, cheeks stained red, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked, a few scattered small hickies, little red lines peeking through his opened shirt.  
Mountain swallows hard. He tries to contain himself and let Swiss finish setting up dessert. 
“A cinnamon roll for you, but before you eat it, I have a special drink I’d to make you”
Swiss brings out a jar with green powder, and a bamboo whisk. Pouring a little bit of hot water over the green powder he put in a mug and whisked it until slightly frothy. He goes to the steamer with some oat milk in a cup, steams it then pours it into the mug and pumps some flavoring into it. 
Mountain’s eyes follow him from one station to the next, until the drink is presented in front of him. 
“I present a matcha latte with oat milk and a hint of rose. Try it,” Swiss encourages. 
Mountain takes a sip and it's like tasting a garden. The rose flavor bring out the flavor of the matcha.
“Swiss, this is delicious. It's amazing. It’s comforting. It makes me feel all warm and safe. It tastes like… home, in a way.” 
“I call it the Mountain Special. I was hoping you'd like it.”
“I love it so much,” Mountain smiles so big. He lets out a moan as he bites into the warm roll, “so good.”
Swiss chuckles. Before him there’s a big ghoul with frosting dripping from the corners of his mouth. Using his thumb, Swiss cleans off the frosting before sucking it clean. 
“And I love you, Mountain.” 
-
After cleaning up the kitchen, Swiss walks Mountain back to his apartment, hoping to stay the night and finish what they started in the cafe.
“Thank you for the wonderful date, Swiss. I loved every moment of it. I adore you so much. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure, Mounty.”
“Um, I know you probably want to stay, but I… uh kinda need time to process tonight, if that’s okay,” he explains, twisting his fingers, obviously nervous of some sort of negative reaction.
Swiss is unsure of what to say. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’s okay! I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.” He leans in to give him a kiss, but Mountain turns, his lips landing on his cheek.
“Thanks. Have a goodnight, Swiss, get home safely.” Mountain enters his apartment leaving Swiss confused outside. 
Staring into the darkness of his apartment, he closes his eyes, leans his back against the door. 
“Fuck.” 
He exhales as tears roll down his face. 
Part 3, soon, sorry
68 notes · View notes
ikkosu · 17 hours
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um umm. imagine giving prowl a hello/good morning kiss but hes not fully awake or his mind is somewhere else so later in the day he goes into some kind of meeting with a lipstick stain on his face.. when he finally realizes he hunts u down to Glare at you and demands you clean it bc its your fault (he just wants an excuse for physical contact oops side note thank u for feeding us all with all ur lovely work. 5 stars
🥺 aww thank you anon. that's so sweet of you pookie. glad you're enjoying my writings!! gobbles up the five star from the palm of your hand
Okay but that's is such a cuteee scenario oh my gosh I can't help but to write a little mini-fic this (a little incoherent I just woke up snskkdkj)
—PROWL'S snuggled up to your side. Even when he's sleeping, a gentle scowl is present on his face. And, the arm curled around your torso is almost like a metal bar, preventing you escape. For now, he's too tired to keep up appearances. Last night's report consisted of him re-writing the expense protocols and it is not a task an hour would suffice.
He came back sluggish and very much irritated. In the darkness of the room, alighted by the mere blue-ish flare of the moonlight, Prowl stands before your bed as a looming shadow. You recalled wheezing when he simply collapsed on top of you, immediately going limp after.
So, when you shift in the bed — it was almost time for work — he was all but annoyed : his bundle of warmth isn't going anywhere when he's got so comfortably snug, so he pits you close to his chassis, grumbling.
"No."
"No? Prowl. I've got work."
"It can wait." He murmered lazily, nose chasing for the warmth between the crook of your neck and shoulder. And, when he did — a little purr-like rumble thrummed from his chassis.
You blink. He's slurring in his sleep? Guess, even the strategic officer isn't immune to sleepy mumbles. With a playful smile, you cup his face plates, leaning in to kiss his cheek, lingering a little bit on the sensitive spot on his neck then the crook of his nose.
Subconsciously, Prowl leans forward, likely expecting a kiss on his lips but with an index on his forehead, you push him away gently.The peach cream lipstick stains the areas you've assaulted. But, hey. At least he knows who's stalling who, this lovely morning.
WHILE he's fixing up the last of his documents, Prowl can feel the stares churning through his back. He's got it ever since he walked into that damn room. Obviously, nobody is going to agree with the new 'protocols' he administered. Especially, the younger mechs. But the meeting had just finished, so what's with the staring? Why are they staring?
"Uh, Prowl?"
"What?" He clips and slams the briefcase shut.
When he whirled around, a biting chassis fervent on his tongue, he's greeted with the sight of the bug, smiling in amusement. Great. The scout.
"I don't know what game you're playing at And, likely, i'd rather not know." Prowl seethes. "But I suggest you cut it out."
As usual, he's not the most brightest mech, this morning.
"Alright, then." He shrugs with his servos up placatingly. "But I gotta say, though. Peach does suit you well. Always thought it'd be rouge red or magenta pink. Guess, I was wrong."
"Excuse me?"
"Not that it's bad. It's not bad, trust me." The scout grins. " I just didn't peg you as the type to wear make-up...."
"And, the generator?"
"Ah, yes. That." You scanned the clipboard, nitpicking the many stacks and stacks of paragraphs for a certain information. This, that, this and — "All stabilized, sir."
"Good work." He pats your shoulder. "Debrief in a few hours — I need the new recruits some time to understand the proceedings. Meanwhile, go have lunch. I won't keep you any longer."
"Understood."
With that your Supervisor had left. Dawdling a second longer flipping through the pages, you swivelled around. When you rounded the corner, still buried in your clipboard —
You feel cold metal curling round your wrists. And, you're suddenly pushed up against the wall.
"You." Prowl leans in, scowling.
You grin. "Oh? Good morning to you, too." .
"Clean it."
"Just a simple swipe of a napkin could do the job, prowl."
The grip on your wrist loosens and a servo clamps over your waist. His expressing, though, isn't unrelenting of a frown. "That's the thing, mouse — you inflicted this on me. So, you take care of it."
You raise a brow. "Sure, this isn't some kind of demand guised in the form of something else?"
Prowl doesn't say anything, expression all the more pinched and irritated — but the slight parting of his lips was telling.
You teetered on your tiptoes, hands on his shoulder plates and leaned up to kiss his cheek — the exact same spot you left a mark, this morning.
Prowl loosens visibly and turned away to hide the flare of warmth on his faceplates. Not without grumbling under his breath, of course.
If he wasn't so handsome when he's mad, you're not sure why you tolerate his crass attitude at all. If anything, he's like a cat that claws at you with every chance he gets — then begging for affection, later.
"If you wanted another kiss, you could've asked."
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justanotherfanartist · 3 months
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idr who it was but somebody I reblogged a post on a while back in which I dumped a bunch of random personal stuff in the tags if you see this this is for you 🙏🙏 also I’m lying I’m just a yapper
#I love turning tumblr into my personal diary knowing this will probably just get buried in the annels of my blog#I’m sure that’s not how you spell that but wtv#anyways grrrr I love men I love figuring out my type#I’ve dated three guys who all coincidentally happen to be relatively tall skinny athletic types#not an intended pattern btw it just happened like that#but now I am experiencing the true joy of variety#gahhhh I love body fat I love guys with body fat I am sick in the head for men who are squishy and have tummies and ass#it’s not my fault that kinda guy just happens to be the center snare in drumline it’s the curse of band kid I guess#holy shit I need to stop dating people in my band actually Jesus Christ it’s two already. see but like or I could collect the set#and go for all different instruments or categories#I’ve got brass (trombone) and woodwind (tenor sax) down#so like percussion?? mayhaps#our drumline is exclusively made up of three types of people for some reason#a) every girl is legit cool a bit masc and definitely gay (I know two personally and a third that fits the bill) and very skilled#b) very much oddball types who nobody in the band gets along with because they actively make people uncomfortable (hard to describe)#c) most grey-sweatpants straight guy you’ve ever seen who just happens to be reserved n semiattractive. looking at two of them in particula#(section leader and center snare specifically) third category hits hard#not my fault the center snare is stupid pretty and reserved and kinda squishy <- on the floor drooling#and like. a good snare#idk what happened to me but as soon as I became a musician people being able to play well became VERY attractive to me#curse of band kid once again#I’m genetically predisposed to it it’s fine <- raised by two divorced music majors#in particular an alto sax and the center snare are two guys that stick as me having a moment of like oh wow they’re *good*. haha that’s hot#alto sax is a killer jazz player and I’m psyched I get to trio with him and one of the drumline girls (my favorite tgirl fr)#although they’re both way better than I am so I’m really the weak link here#which is a hard asf sell given that they want me on bass <- I am a decent-to-mid rhythm guitarist at best#but wtv. everything I do I do for jazz#the most personal information I will likely ever admit to (I am lying I will vaguely yap about myself all day long)
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squidult · 1 year
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not being able to feel so much, as much, all of the time, actually kinda rocks
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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T__T final fantasy
#🌙.rambles#bruh i remember why i'm so romantic now#i hate final fantasy................#BUT GOD THE LYRICS OF. SUTEKI DA NE. EYES ON ME. MELODIES OF LIFE. KISS ME GOOD-BYE. SOBBBBBBB#i want to throw my phone or my laptop across my room! bury my head in a pillow n scream!#the the. EMOTION IN THEM. hurts just the way i like it lol#STAR-CROSSED ? OH MY GOD I HATE FINAL FANTASY FOR MAKING THAT ONE OF MY FAV TROPES WTF#THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING REALIZING HOW ROMANTIC I AM BCS OF INFLUENCES LIKE FINAL FANTASY#'darling so share with me / your love if you have enough / your tears if you're holding back / or pain if that's what it is'#'just reach me out then you will know that you're not dreaming' i will Cry#this is so cringe n i've always been a bit 'weird' but#sob hermes ffxiv kin bcs i still fit in thanks to my kindness n my intelligence . but it feels lonely#frankly as long as i stop caring about that n just really focus on just being myself as i always have. i'll definitely be happier .#be closer to that inner peace. n while i definitely keep on improving in that regard. i got the mindset n all#it's hard still bcs i can tell there's smth that's holding me back significantly. am i afraid that i'll be left out? alone?#i don't want to be what i'm not. but i'm afraid that. everything i've already found could just go away. disappear and leave#n i'll never really find a place that stays that i belong in. i'm too young to say for sure but i think#the world was cruel then. I ALREADY HAD TRUST ISSUES THEN THANKS TO OLD FRIENDS N THEN LMFAOOO I GOT HURT MORE#this is why i love helping others ! i try to make sure that people are being listened to in convos. i try to really read n understand *you*#fuck my anxiety though n i guess that child in me's still afraid to let my guard down.#there's sm i WANT to do for others n then. added with my own self. it's so overwhelming n it often feels like i failed everyone#we all owe ourselves the same kindness we give to others. it really gets hard though. bcs god i beat myself up for not being enough#especially for others :') like god i always want to help but it gets so hard to reach out n then i get hurt even more by my incompetence#cries i got distracted but back to ff..... i hate being romantic this way bcs i cld find some witty way to.#god no wait i'm not gna bring that up
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sttoru · 4 days
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.
tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t
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“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.
toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”
you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.
“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.
it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.
“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.
you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.
toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”
you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.
toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.
“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.
it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.
toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.
“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”
megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.
though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;
“mama papa kissing!”
you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”
toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.
you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.
“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.
you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.
“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”
after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.
megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.
“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.
megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”
that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—
“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.
megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.
you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.
toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.
“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.
you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.
toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.
“so, where were we?”
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saetoru · 7 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ 4:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fluff, established relationships, sleepy n cuddly toru :(, just needed to write this to cope with the 236 manga leaks i guess. i just love him tons sobs i need him happy and loved and peaceful
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“hey,” you poke satoru’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble under your cheek, “toru?”
“hmm?” oh. he sounds a little tired—maybe you should let him sleep.
“you awake?” you ask anyway.
“am now,” he mumbles—well, he’s already awake, so you might as well indulge in it now. “need somethin’, sweetheart?”
“jus’ missed you is all,” you pout—that makes him grin despite the way he yawns, all wide and smooth even as he fights the sleep in his eyes. you feel just a bit guilty, reaching to cup his cheek and running a thumb over his eyelid carefully.
“yeah?” he chuckles quietly, “‘m right here. you still miss me?”
“yeah,” you whisper, “always miss you. even when you’re right here.”
satoru’s grinning into your cheek as he leans down and presses a wet kiss to the skin—he can’t possibly be mad that you’ve woken him so late. he can’t be mad when it’s you, and it’s him, and it’s each other.
sleep can wait, there’s always time for that later. but there’s never a moment where he wants to risk counting on later when it comes to you.
“what’d you miss about me?” he hums, nibbling on your earlobe as his head buries into your neck. you shift, letting his body tuck against yours as your arms wrap around him—he feels safe like this, somehow. infinity doesn’t make him feel nearly as secure as the way your arms do, tight and warm and made just for holding him.
“dunno,” you murmur, “everything.”
“love me that much?” he asks cheekily, “me sleeping right beside you isn’t enough?”
“no,” you huff, “you can’t pay attention to me in your sleep.”
“my needy baby,” he snickers, rubbing circles into the small of your back with his large palm. he’s warm against you—you can feel the rhythm of his heart as it beats against your body. he’s pressed so close to you, that not even air can slip through the cracks.
truthfully, you don’t know why you wake satoru. you don’t know why you can’t sleep—you just know that you need him. here. now. always. forever. more and more and more and even more.
“toru?” you ask quietly, making him hum as his eyes droop back shut slowly—he must really be tired.
you stare at him fondly, stroking his hair as he sighs happily at the feeling. and then you press a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek, to the corner of his eyes where they crinkle when he smiles, and to those lips of his that always find yours no matter how long it takes.
he always comes back to you. always. he never won’t—that much you trust.
“got somethin’ on your mind, baby?” he asks slowly, voice thick with sleep. you giggle, scratching at his scalp as he smiles lightly.
he dozing off—you watch him, hopelessly endeared.
“i love you,” you whisper, “need you to know that. love you so, so much. kay?”
he cracks an eye open—stares at you like you’re the reason his heart ever started beating, like you’re the only one that could ever command it to stop. every inch of his face is laced with love so gentle, you can see the way it makes his skin glow.
you love him. you’re sure he loves you. that’s all you need to know it’ll be fine. everything else is an afterthought—just as long as you have satoru.
“woke me just to confess your love for me?” he gasps, “you’re down bad. real, real bad. i must be a super handsome, totally awesome boyfriend. i do try,” he says cheekily.
you giggle, rolling your eyes as you pinch his cheek.
“be humble, you jerk,” you say exasperatedly.
it sounds more like you’re in love. too much fondness slipping into your voice that it might make your teeth hurt from how sweet. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, though—he accepts your love graciously, like it’s never too much.
if fact, it might just not be enough. he needs more, more, more.
“can’t,” he says slowly, yawning again, “you waking me up just to love me is a bit ego boosting.”
“this was a mistake,” you scoff—its playful, it’s fond. it sounds like deeply falling headfirst.
“aw c’mon,” he pouts—and then he’s brushing his lips against your neck a he clings closer to you, curling into your body with his six-foot-something stature as you pull the blanket tighter around him, “love you too. what was it you said again? oh, right—so, so much.”
“good,” you hum, nodding in satisfaction. “you better.”
“i do,” he chuckles, “can i sleep now? or are we gonna start talking about all the things we love about each other? cause i can stay up to listen to that, of course.”
“go to sleep, you idiot,” you scoff.
he grins. you press one last kiss to his forehead as you count the soft breaths he takes while he falls back asleep.
you love him—it’s all you ever want to do.
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i cried while writing this and i cried thinking about the leaks and i cried while reading the leaks and i cried and cried and i’m tired of crying. gege when i catch you gege 🔫
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
part two
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
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illusioninfnty · 7 months
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day 6 ; dry humping
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↠ monkey d. luffy x reader
fandom: one piece word count: 1.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dual virgins, luffy and reader are inexperienced, jealous!luffy if you squint, takes place a bit after opla season 1 so luffy is aged up
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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“Luffy?” You call for your captain, peeking your head into his quarters. “Is everything okay?”
You noticed that your cheery and optimistic captain had been unusually quiet the past few hours. He never had gone that long without some sort of exclamation or crazy action, and his odd behavior was worrying to you. So when he finally retreated to his room, you decided to follow to see what was up.
“Oh!” Luffy’s eyes widen, as he says your name, clearly surprised to see you. He sends you a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug, going inside and closing the door behind you. You take a seat next to him on his bed. “I don’t know,” you start. “You just seem…distant. You can tell me what's bothering you.”
Luffy sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his curls. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel just so frustrated. But no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of it!”
You were confused too, unsure why Luffy wasn’t able to brush this off like he always did. Until a lightbulb went off. You remember Sanji mentioning urges that men get sometimes, and how they need a woman to fix it.
“It sounds like you might have some tension, you know, down…there.”
Luffy pauses, taking in what you said, before his eyes brighten. “I think you’re right!” he exclaims. “Oh wow, that makes a lot of sense now.” He goes quiet again, a sheepish look spreading across his face. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, though.”
You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think I’m able to help you with it.”
Luffy jumps up and grasps your shoulders. “Alright!” he cheers. He sits back down next to you and looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in thought. “That actually makes a lot of sense. The feeling always gets worse whenever I’m around you. I guess you have to be the one to fix it then, huh?”
“O-oh.” You stutter. Not only did you just discover that your captain (who you may have had a tiny bit of a crush on) was sexually frustrated, but he was like that because of you. A wave of heat rushed down your body.
“Yeah.” You confirm to Luffy, hoping to not seem too excited about this whole situation. “I just have to get on top of you.”
Luffy nods, spreading his legs and leaning back on his forearms, inviting you in. You immediately notice the boner he’s sporting, which makes you heat up even more. You seat yourself right on top of it, causing the two of you to moan harmoniously.
You start to move yourself on top of Luffy, his clothed cock hitting your pussy in the perfect spot. The fabric of your underwear rubs against your clit, causing your wetness to begin to stain it.
You reach your hand down to palm him through his shorts, hoping that you're bringing him pleasure from at least one of two ways. Luffy looks up at you with curious eyes.
“How’d you know to do this?” he asks you.
“I heard Sanji talking about it. He says guys feel like that a lot. Pent up, ‘s what he called it.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Have you done this with him?”
“W-what? No!” Your hands scrunch up in his vest and you swallow hard. “This is actually my first time doing anything like this,” you admit sheepishly, eyes downcast.
Luffy grins. “Yeah, me too!” he says brazenly. “Guess we’ll figure out how to do this together!” He laughs. 
You send a matching grin back as you continue to grind on top of him. You’re practically sopping now, an audible sound happening when you rock back and forth on Luffy. His cock throbs furiously, and you gasp when he grabs your hips.
He starts to rock back onto you, pumping his hips upwards into you. You lean forward as the sensation weakens you, and Luffy buries his face into your neck.
“Feels good…” he mumbles into you. You hum in agreement as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.
You increase your pace, wrapping your arms around Luffy as you both press close against the other, grinding each other uncontrollably. 
Luffy suddenly stills your hips and moves you onto the bed, face down and ass hanging off the edge. You gasp in surprise.
“Want to try this,” he breathes out as he hovers over you. You’re met with him thrusting against you from behind, hips moving wildly as he lets out low groans behind you. Luffy wraps his arms around your midsection, holding you in place.
You’re strung out and helpless as Luffy humps into you, his pulsing cock hitting against your clit. Your wetness has fully soaked your bottoms, and Luffy is able to thrust his cock between your clothed lips with ease.
Your captain moves with reckless abandon, hips jutting against your own. Neither of you can talk past groans and whines. This act feels primal, both of you desperately chasing your release.
His hands on your waist tightens as he humps into you and his groans are loud in your ear. You arch yourself into him, attempting your best to rub yourself against his cock.
He moans out your name into the crook of your neck as his body covers your own. “You feel really great,” he continues, his voice cracking. He moves faster and faster against you, seeking his peak. 
Your hands fist the bedsheet as you bounce back and forth against his thrusts and grinds against your clothed pussy. “Luffy!” you cry out. You can feel his hips start to move out of rhythm and he lets out a final low moan before you feel the stickiness of his cum seep through his shorts and onto your own.
Both of you are panting furiously, tired from your romp. Luffy rolls off of you, collapsing next you on the bed. You turn yourself onto your back and lean towards him, basking in the pleasure you just received.
Luffy turns his head towards you. “I don’t want you to do that with anyone else on the crew.” He says, with more seriousness than you’ve heard from him all night.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” You hesitate to continue as you prepare for disappointment with your next statement. “But—if you want, we can do this again soon. If you’d like to.” You mentally hit yourself in the head for stumbling over your words so embarrassingly.
He sits up, seemingly recovered from his orgasm. “Are you kidding? You don’t even need to ask! ‘Course we are!”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around your captain and giggling into his chest.
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rewh0re · 29 days
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CAN I GET A KISS? (AND CAN YOU MAKE IT LAST FOREVER?)
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—wc: 878, headcanons of how different jjk men would kiss you!! fluffy fluff fluff and nothing but fluff, a lot of kissing (neck, lips and forehead), gojo in himself is a warning tbh. REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!
—pairing: geto, gojo, nanami x reader (separate)
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。゚・ ☆ ° 。 geto suguru—
I somehow see Geto as a guy who is into neck kisses. Like you'd be doing your work and Suguru just spawns out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around your waist, pecking and nibbing down your neck. He'll be helping you put on the clasp of a necklace and would steal a little peck that would take you by surprise. So cute. He's also very much into pecking your shoulders and burying his head in your neck—his way of asking you to play with his hair. Like you will be watching some stupid rom com and the next thing you know, Suguru is latched onto you, nibbling onto your shoulder as he buries himself in your neck. His breath softly tickles your skin and you know no one’s going to watch the movie anymore. So you give into his antics as your fingers card through his hair as a hum of satisfaction leaves his lips. 
"oh! what was that for?" you yelped in a welcomed surprise as you felt a little nibble on the side of your neck which was quickly soothed by the feeling of your lover's warm tongue.
"missed my baby. When are you joining me in bed? it's late," his lips left a trail of kisses from the base of your ear to your clavicle.
"will you attack me if I say after I finish this draft?" you smiled up at him, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"you know I will."
You both knew he would attack you with kisses before bed either way.
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。゚・ ☆ ° 。 gojo satoru—
Now Gojo is a flirt. He's a stupid idiot and a flirt. He'll do anything to tease you and rile you up if I'm being honest. He'll get close to you, breaths mingling together as he holds you against his hard chest. You can smell his rich boy cologne so clearly and you're sure he can probably hear your erratic heartbeat. It's all impossibly slow and you close your eyes, waiting for his lips to land on yours and then.....they land on your cheek! Your eyes shoot open at the howling laughter from the menace that is Gojo Satoru. He gives a detailed recollection of your face from just a few seconds ago and you realise he can never not get on your nerves.
"Satoru I fucking hate you," you whine, pouting a bit, your body sulking as you look away, arms folded and a rose tint on your cheeks.
The next thing you know, Satoru's arms are around your waist for a second time as you're impossibly close to him....again. Except now his lips are quick to land upon yours. you move your arms to grip on his hair while he tightens his arms around you. He sucks on your bottom lip, licking and nibbling it. Your surprised gasp allowed him his entrance into your mouth, your tongues gliding against each other's as both of your lips were covered with thick coats of saliva. His hand moved along your back, gripping your neck, then face and then back around your waist. You wish you could kiss him like this forever but your lack of oxygen compelled you to part.
You panted as you looked at him, his sapphire eyes holding love, passion, desire and something more—mischief perhaps?
he smirked before pecking your lips again.
"Won't hate me as much now I'm guessing?"
Incorrigible, isn't he?
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。゚・ ☆ ° 。 nanami kento—
Come on. When I started writing this, I just knew Nanami had to be a forehead kiss man. He just radiates a sense of safety and comfort if you know what I mean. Imagine the both of you are at your shared apartment and you are just talking on the sofa and he's smiling at you and when you ask what's up he just takes your face in his big hand and leaves a long kiss on your forehead.
I just know Nanami comes home and the first thing he does is hug you tightly, as if to never let you go. He then proceeds to hold you gently by your neck as he leaves a lasting kiss on your temple.
Even before bed, after saying your good nights when you are all cuddled up with him, he'll softly leave a chaste kiss on your forehead, muttering 'sweet dreams' before you both lull to sleep. It's endearing really.
Especially when you're tired or stressed from work or life and you confide in him for comfort. He will hold you so tightly while you feel at home in his arms. One of his hands will be pressing your head to his chest while the other grabs you around the waist. You love being held by him.
"thank you kento, I feel better," you separate from him, smiling up at him in gratitude and appreciation.
he just hums in response, returning your smile with one of his own endearing ones. He moves a lock of your hair behind your ear as he brings his lips to your forehead. you close your eyes, basking in his warmth and comfort.
Kento's forehead kisses and hugs ensured you that you would always have a place to call home as long as he's with you. You'd always be safe in his arms. He'd always be yours.
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tender-rosiey · 8 months
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You think when gojo was training his infinity technique, he still had his slip ups where he actually did manage to fry his brain a little, resulting in a prolonged migraine? And then reader chimes in to take care of him to ease his pain?
considerate — gojo satoru x f!reader
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satoru's feet are dragged behind him as he walks into your shared dorm. the familiarity of the room welcomes him and he feels his shoulders relax just a tiny bit.
on his path to perfecting his infinity, the strongest sorcerer was bound to slip up. unfortunately for him, slip ups like these—no matter how tiny—would cause the worst migraines of his life which he is currently experiencing.
for a moment, he can’t find you, and he would like to dramatically call for you. but the migraine is limiting theatrics for now.
he knows you’re here, but he can’t see your figure yet and it bothers him.
he rubs his eyes a little harshly with a groan while his hand runs through his hair, “y/n, where are you?”
he hears your feet pad on the ground before he is finally met with the sight of you.
and despite the pain and how much he wants to close his eyes and drown everything out, he really wants to see you. a small smile—albeit pained—appears on his pretty face as he pulls you close, mumbling, “missed me?”
you pull his face towards your own and press kisses to both of his cheeks, “I always do, you know that,” your hands cover his eyes gently and his own hold yours to press them closer to his face.
he sighs, leaning further into your touch, and you frown, “tough day?”
“something like that,” he mutters, “fried my brain just a little.”
your hand moves to stroke his hair—he whines, but quietens at the feeling of your fingers carding through his hair—then you tease him, “careful, pretty boy, keep that up and you will really live up to your dumb boy reputation.”
he grins down at you. “you think I am pretty?”
“of course, that’s what you will focus on,” you grumble then move to sit on the couch. you think he will lay his head on your lap as usual with his enormous body stretching on the couch, but he doesn’t.
instead, he sits on the ground between your legs. he buries his face in your stomach and his arms wrap around you.
“’toru, I have to get you a cold wrap.”
“no.”
“you should at least drink some water so your migraine can get better.”
“I already feel so much better.”
“satoru, are you telling me that simply burying your face in my stomach is enough to magically heal you?”
he pulls away slightly to grin at you, “are you the one having the migraine?”
“no, but I am the responsible one—“
“exactly, so let me hug the love of my life,” he cheekily says before kissing the pulse point on your forearm, “thank you.”
you grumble causing him to chuckle, but he quickly goes quiet once again.
your hands are gently massaging his scalp and he lets out a soft sigh.
considering what he went through, you guess that he will probably fall asleep in a while, but then he speaks up slowly, “I…wanted to show you this new trick with my technique.”
“oh?”
he nods and continues, “I managed to teleport.”
“really? that’s awesome, ‘toru!” you beam, hands never stopping their movements.
“exactly!” he quips then grumbles, “and I wanted to teleport to that place you like so much, but I can’t right now and it’s so lame!”
this is one of the things people tend to not notice about satoru. he is an annoying idiot, sure. he reminds you of those kids in middle school that pull the ponytail of the girl they like.
but he is still so considerate to other people in his own way. he speaks a lot and loudly, but his actions always speak louder.
you feel your heartstrings tug at the sentiment so you tilt his head up and your eyes look intently into his own azure ones.
satoru is convinced you’re having a staring contest so he puts on his “concentrated” face.
you humor him for just a moment, before a helpless chuckle escapes your lips, “you silly goose,” you softly kiss his eyelids, “my silly goose.”
you gently pull his head toward you and press a kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks, and then a gentle peck to his lips.
his cheeks turn the slightest shade of red as he watches you, and his ears are a tinted a light shade of red.
awestruck, he can’t help but stare at you, “I…I am caught between telling you that I fell in love with you all over again and telling you that that was so corny.”
with a roll of your eyes, you pinch his nose lightly, “then you should just go to sleep, loser.”
he gasps then huffs and looks away, “always so mean.”
“right?” you hum while you pet his hair, “whatever shall you do, lover?”
satoru is endearing when he is quiet like this, not quite flustered but just a tad bit shy. and even when he is mad at you, he always leans into your touch. so you’re not surprised about his following line.
“if I sleep right now, we will cuddle, right?”
and you smile with a nod because as much as satoru actively wants your love, you want his just as much.
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Text
— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ pt.2
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
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summary: after lord eros' silly little trick, you're now forced to deal with the consequences— more specifically, in the form of a lovestruck luke castellan.
warnings: tons of corny pick-up lines
genre: still very much a romcom
part 1
note: thank you, thank you! all your support for pt.1 means the world to me! really, i couldn't be more grateful 𖹭 i hope you think this brings justice to the first half 𖹭
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” You suppressed the urge to shriek, settling for gritted emphasis instead. You crossed your arms across your chest, your foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floorboards of the Big House.
“Exactly what it means.” Chiron responded, looking at Luke with more amusement rather than concern.
“But he's under a spell,” You reasoned in disbelief. You might have spilled over your words while you explained the rundown to Chiron, but they were coherent enough to at least get that point across.
“It’ll wear off eventually, kid.” Mr. D downed an entire can of diet soda in one go before procuring another one in his outstretched hand. He snickered at the intent puppy eyes Luke was giving you. “That type of love magic won’t last long. Best to let it run its course than tamper with it.”
“But–” You wanted to argue before Mr. D stopped you. He pushed his feet up on his desk.
“Look, at least this proves that your boyfriend actually loves you.” He gave you a pointed look. What does that even mean? “Now, leave.”
You huffed indignantly, but decided against speaking further. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled Luke up by his arm, guiding him towards the narrow hallway that led to the foyer.
“When did I become your boyfriend?” Luke huddled closer to you, whispering as you made your way to the front door.
“You didn’t.” You told him plainly. You shook your head. “You aren’t.”
“Yet.” He responded, his tone a bit mischievous but his gaze sure and determined.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
You leaned your elbows against the table of the crowded Arts and Crafts Center, your chin resting against the pad of your thumbs. You studied Luke with a contemplating gaze.
“I hit you with one of Eros’ arrows.” You told him. This was hardly the proper place to have this conversation, but the rest of the Aphrodite cabin practically hauled you to the building to begin Valentinkering? Valenmaking? (whatever in Tartarus they decided to call it this year).
“Well, I guess you could say I’ve been lovestruck by you.” He said, giving you a stupid little wink as he mirrored your posture.
“Gods, Luke. That was corny as hell.” You flushed almost as crimson as the container of beads in front of you. “Also, I’m serious.”
“And who said I wasn’t?” He challenged. He smirked against his fist, wiggling his eyebrows.
You snorted. “The fact that you’re under some valentine voodoo makes all your intentions questionable.”
“You wound me.” He feigned offense, pouting as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt above his chest. “To be fair, my train of thought has always been questionable when it comes to you.”
“On a more serious note, I do remember the whole arrow thing.” He told you, his lips pursed. “I don’t blame you; it was a complete accident. It just feels… odd.”
“Again: unimpressed.” You buried your face into your hands, the second hand embarrassment of his poor attempt at flirting was overwhelmingly potent. Besides, it was difficult not to react when he looked at you so intently, like he was trying to memorize every minute detail of you.
Your ears perked up, worried. “You feel odd?”
“No,” He shook his head. His expression was perplexed, maybe a bit incredulous too. “That’s the thing. I feel completely normal.”
“That is weird.” You agree. You wrap the string in between your fingers around his wrist, measuring it to his size. "Maybe it was just a prank?"
“No. If anything, it’s more like I can’t hold my tongue.” He shrugs. “I can’t help but say what I think.”
“Would that explain the flirting?” You tease. All cheeky, but with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the humor.
He leaned in, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You stare at him, tilting your head. He returns your gaze just as intensely, brown eyes fixed onto yours. He raises an eyebrow as if to question your silence. There was something magnetic between the two of you, pulsing and pulling you closer— maybe not physically, but definitely in other ways unbeknownst to you.
“Woah!” Percy exclaimed with an accusatory edge to his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and his palms raised as if to distance himself from you. “Respect for the children, maybe? Consider shielding my young impressionable eyes from this trauma?”
“Percy!” You squeaked rather uncharacteristically. Annabeth trailed behind closely, pushing a leg over the bench to sit beside you. You smiled at her, tugging her closer by placing your arm around her shoulders.
“Annabeth,” Luke called. “Trade places with me.”
Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “No.”
“Come on.” He persisted. He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “You know, the Stoll brothers have an extensive archive, and I think I may have heard word of them having that Rem Kolhaas book you've been raving about."
Annabeth stopped to consider the offer before ultimately conceding. She stood up from her seat. “That’s a big bribe for a small favor.”
“Know what prices to pay to win your battles.” Luke muttered as he sidled up next to you, grinning triumphantly. His fingers played with the hem of your weathered camp shirt. “Sacrifices aren’t much in the face of victory.”
“Did you just use a bad battle strategy as a flirting tactic?” Annabeth scrunched her nose in distaste. “Gross.”
"Done." You finish tying up the ends, letting the red bracelet dangle in Luke's line of vision.
"It looks so pretty, baby." He compliments you, holding out his wrist. You proudly put it on for him. "Not as pretty as you though."
You scoff. Both Annabeth and Percy imitate gagging noises.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
The only time you ever truly left each other’s side were the few moments of reprieve before dinner where you’d returned to your cabins. The older campers insisted on making the meal a whole affair, complete with a romantic candlelit set-up and a string quartet to serenade everyone. Chiron decided to indulge the request and sent everyone back to freshen up.
“Have fun with your boyfriend?”
“Christ!” You jumped in your spot, turning around to see Eros laying on one of the bunks. His arms were tucked underneath his head, his smile suggestive and knowing.
“Lord Eros,” You bowed.
“That is not your shade.” He tutted, pointing to the tinted gloss in your hand. “Too summery for your complexion this time of year. Go for the pink one. He’ll go berserk.”
“Thanks.” You muttered, facing your vanity once more. You dabbed the product against your lips. You sighed as you inspected your make-up. Once more, he was right.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He shifted to his side, looking at you expectantly.
“Yeah, I guess.” You grumbled. You looked down, pretending to look for something in your drawer so he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. Luke refused to leave your side the entire day— his fingers hooked around the belt hoops of your skirt in one way or another. He made a whole spectacle of it too: his big brown eyes tender, his wistful sighs, his shy grins, his playful winks.
“Good.” He clapped his hands. “Gods, the boy has had a crush on you for forever, you know. It was torture watching him pine over you. I can only take so much longing.”
You froze, staring at him through the mirror. He stared back at you.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” He sounded shocked; he was shocked. “You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, how could you not know?! That's like our thing!”
“Well, he hasn’t been obvious, has he?” You rebutted, flicking your wrist.
“Sis, I don’t know what reality you’re living in,” He sat up on the bed, “But that boy wouldn’t know subtle even if it hit him in the face.”
“But surely it’s just because of the arrows.” You rationalized.
“Nuh uh.” He wiggles a finger in the air to deny the accusation. “The arrows you used just accentuate pre-existing feelings. Not make new ones.”
A knock interrupts your conversation. You hurry to fix your hair, brushing it out of the way. Your hands begin to shake with giddy excitement. You feel your heart thrum strongly against your chest, almost wanting to burst out from the confines of your body and find its other half in Luke. Your smile eventually becomes hard to contain.
Eros beams at you, his pupils dilating into hearts again like it did this morning. He opens the door for you and pushes you out. “Have fun with lover boy. Mother sends her regards.”
Luke spins around at the sound of the squeaky hinges. He can't help but pull a hand out of his pocket, his palm lightly grazing his chest. He whistles. “Call me favored by the gods because I think I’ve just entered Elysium.”
“You’ve been with me the whole day.” You responded pointedly, breathless and in love.
“And yet you still manage to take my breath away.” He gasps when you rush into him, wrapping your arms around his nape.
“This is new.” He looks down at you, your noses touching. His hands fall naturally to your hips, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your dress. “But definitely welcome.”
You gaze into his eyes before pressing your lips against his. They felt pleasant and pliant against your own. You tugged Luke closer, your fingers twirling through his curls. His hands squeezed your skin. The kiss burned sweetly, almost as if it’s been waiting in anticipation to happen.
When you both separate for air, Luke gently grabs your hands from behind him. He wraps his fists around yours, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”
“So I’ve been told.” You hum. “I figured I might take the first step.”
“Don’t worry.” He presses another kiss against your lips, short and sweet. “I promise to match your pace the rest of the way.”
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺
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drefear · 9 months
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Closer by NIN
This is part two for Nasty
Summary: You and Miguel have been finding things out about each other through your music choices.
TW: When I say that this one is rough, I mean that this type of sex could get you arrested. I'd bail him out. biting, scratching, dacrophilia, p in v, breeding kink, honestly just everything.
Miguel was panting a bit, rolling off of your body as you both came down from your high together. It had been a few weeks since he listened to that damn song you loved and found out about what you liked in bed, fully using this to his advantage and constantly making you a squirming mess underneath him. 
His eyes stared at the ceiling with a smile on his lips, then closing them for a second before feeling you shift beside him in his bed. He felt your breast press onto his chest as you laid on top of him and his hands slid to hold your waist, peaking open one eye at your smirking face. 
“What’s going on in that head of yours, mamacita?” He questioned, tapping his fingers into your skin a bit as you rested your chin on his pecks. You could feel his heartbeat becoming normal again after your rigorous rounds. 
“I’m just wondering what your turn ons are? What makes you insatiable and want more?” You go on and on as he just chuckles, brushing some of the hair from your face as you stare at him with your big doe eyes, filled with curiosity. 
“You, mi amor.” He answers and closes his eyes again, pulling you tight to him as he rolls onto his side and pecks your forehead. “Now we need to sleep, we have an early debriefing tomorrow.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit, pushing out your bottom lip even though his eyes were closed. 
You maniacally rubbed your hand against his still half-hard cock and his grunted, grabbing your wrist quickly to stop you. “Bebe.” His tone had shifted to authoritarian fast and you let out a ‘hmph.’
“One more, papi, please. One more round and I’ll sleep like a baby.” You begged and his eyes opened as an amused grin fell on his full lips. “I promise.” You finished and he yanked one of your legs around his hips, burying his face into your neck. 
“I can’t so no to my precious girl.” he nipped as you giggled, and you both continued once more, before falling asleep. 
The next day, Miguel was exhausted. One more round turned into three more rounds and then sex on the bathroom floor, in his kitchen, and giving him head in his elevator. 
So you could say it was definitely worth it to him. 
You brought out a sexual prince in him, someone caring and full of sweet, buttery smooth words that made your panties a swimming pool in the middle of July. And he was always welcome to dive in. 
“Wow. That’s a new record.” Jess spoke and you looked around, confused. “The hickeys, I mean.” She points to your neck and you immediately close the mask of your suit to avoid her scrutiny any more. She laughed lightly, “don’t be like that, remember that I’m technically the one who led him to give you said hickeys.” She prompts and sits, leaning on your desk. “So I’m guessing it’s all going good?” 
“Better than good, Jess. He’s- he’s like a God in bed.” 
“Wow. He must really be into it.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked, now scrunching your brows together. 
“Well, listen- he’s an attractive guy, and you’re not the only person with eyes at the HQ. He’s slept with a few in the past before he met you, but it was always a one-and-done thing, so I’m just impressed that he’s opened up about what he’s into.” 
And then you sunk down in your seat. “What… he’s into?” You questioned. 
“Well, yeah. You two always do what you both want, right? He used to complain about how vanilla most people were, so you must be doing something right.” She stands again and walks off. 
Leaving you alone to your thoughts. What… he wanted? You assumed that he was into what you were into, since you’d found him jerking off to exactly the things you’d wanted to hear, especially after that song- 
The song!
Oh, Jess and her big mouth probably told him about your love for that song! You blushed in embarrassment as you thought about him submitting to what you wanted. 
You didn’t want him to only focus on your turn ons, you wanted compromise and to share his darker fantasies. Isn’t that what a relationship was? 
“Lyla,” you called out and found the little AI pop up in front of you. “I need to know what sexual interests Miguel has.” The orange hologram sputtered a cough for a second while you rolled your eyes at her overdramatic display. “Lyla, you don’t even breathe.” 
“If I did, I'd be gasping in shock and clutching my pearls.” She shot back and you just sighed in defeat. “Besides, those files aren’t accessible to just anyone. You need permission from Miguel or me.” She folded her arms.
“Wait- permission? Like… his passcode?” You blurted out with hopes and Lyla nodded. 
“Well, yes, but-“ 
“Thanks Lyla.” You cut her off and hurried to his office, ignoring the hologram calling back to you. Your steps finally made it to the dark office Miguel used, more like a workshop for a robotics technician, but you didn’t dare correct him when it came to the Society. 
“Miguelito?” You called out, testing out a theory. When silence was your only companion in the room, you smiled and continued your plans. 'Perfect!' You cheered to yourself and hopped to swing onto his platform. 
The screens were much higher than you could see or reach, so you jumped up to sit on his desk and tap along the floating screens. You found what you were looking for after a minute, being greeted by Lyla once more. 
“You know, he’ll be made when he finds out.” She announced and you shrugged. 
“Not if I put what I find to good use.” You answered and the AI pretended to wretch, feigning nausea. 
“Gross. Hold on, if it’s that important to you, I might be able to bypass the code. But I’ll deny ever being here if you throw me under the bus.” Lyla answered and tapped something, then letting you watch the code fill itself. 
“This is his porn history. He doesn’t know I can see it, and I’m happy he doesn’t because that conversation would be really weird.” She pops a few screens, but most of them are just… 
“Is this... my social media?” You wobbled on the desk for a second from leaning back in shock. 
“Yeah, it tends to get him going pretty easily. Sometimes he listens to certain music, too.” She adds and you look directly at her, making her sigh and hold her glasses in disappointment. “I hate that I’m enabling you.” 
“Don’t stop now.” You demand and she lets his playlist pop up, one titled after you. 
Most of the songs seem to be very lovey dovey- and that’s when you find it. 
“Nine inch nails…?” Your surprise was evident as you read the band name once more. “I listened to this band in high school.”
“So did he. Believe it or not, he was a little rebellious in high school. I think it was the daddy issues.” Lyla tapped the song and the strange sounds from the song played heavily. 
“Thanks Lyla!” You tapped her away and ran from his desk, trying to make it as though you had never been there. Your mistake. 
That night, you began playing the song while cooking and tried to focus on the lyrics. 
“You let me violate you 
You let me desecrate you 
You let me penetrate you 
You let me complicate you”
Your jaw dropped, listening to the words. Oh.
The song exuded dominance and power, something very Miguel. But you didn’t think he could be so… rough. Of course he could be rough, the man had fangs and claws, but you thought he was much more into sentimental experiences, making love and such. You didn't realize he wanted to fuck.
Pressing your palms flat into the counter, you'd long forgotten your meal when the chorus bursts through your speakers. 
“I wanna fuck you like an animal 
I wanna feel you from the inside 
I wanna fuck you like an animal 
My whole existence is flawed 
You get me closer to God”
Your knees became jelly as you imagined him saying thing these things to you, gravel voice smirking as you fall to the ground before him and worship him like he deserves- like he would demand. 
“you tear down my reason
(Help me) it's your sex I can smell 
(Help me) you make me perfect
Help me become somebody else”
You could feel the desperation in the reverb of the songs drums. It’s no wonder he always inhales so deeply when he eats you out, he’s letting his animalistic instincts take over. He’s technically part spider, which is inherently an animal. He literally needs to fuck you like an animal to feel his whole DNA’s satisfaction. 
“I wanna fuck you like an animal 
I wanna feel you from the inside 
I wanna fuck you like an animal 
My whole existence is flawed 
You get me closer to God”
You breath hitches and you hear the door close, your head shooting up as you can hear the sound of his boots coming closer, spider senses tingling from behind you. 
“So… the scent of your wet pussy was all over my desk when I got back from Peter's universe… want to tell me why?” He inquired and you wanted to answer, but the hand sliding up your body and the thoughts plaguing your mind from the still-playing song we’re holding your tongue hostage. “No answer? My good girl always answers me, what's wrong? His gentle kisses land on the slope of your neck and you give him more access by tilting your head.
“What if I don’t want to be a 'good girl' tonight? What if…” he freezes and starts to put everything together. You snuck into his office, this song, your pheromones filling the room. 
“What if what?” He growls and you practically cum at the sound of his aggravated voice hissing at you. 
“What if… I want you to do what the song says… and fuck me like an animal.” 
His brain drowns in conflicted emotions. He wants nothing more to practically maim your skin with his claws and teeth, fucking you so roughly that you beg him to stop and take a break, plead for him to breed you like a whore, to hear you crying from how hard he’s going, how bad it hurts and amazing it feels. He wants to see you wake up with a limp in your walk and a belly full of his potential children. 
But then he also doesn’t want to scare you away. He doesn’t want you to be forced to do those things just because you want him to finish, to feel satisfaction. He’s more than satisfied with you, loves the sex you two have, he doesn’t need-
The words fly through his head, but everything stops when you roughly grab his cock through his suit and get onto your knees before him. 
“Mi corazón… you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He encourages you to stand up again, to stop asking for this, but you bury your face into the fabric and breathe in deeply. 
“Please, I need it in my mouth. I want you to fuck my mouth.” You beg and who is he to deny such a gorgeous request when he can see your fat tits practically spilling from the keyhole of your spider suit from this angle. 
“Fuck. Fine.” He says through gritted teeth and yanks your head backwards by your hair, disabling his suit completely as his cock pops out and smacks you a bit. He likes the sounds, likes the view of his face smothering precum across your cheeks and lips. And he wants more. “You like the idea of me suffocating you on my cock, forcing myself down your throat for you to suck?” He slaps his hard dick across your face and because of the weight and width, it actually kinda stings. “That’s it, my little slut… so horny just for me, so hungry to take my dick.” He roughly grabs your face and forces your mouth open, smushing your cheeks in his large hands and tapping his tip on your tongue. “Open wide and stick out that tongue.” He commands and you comply, tongue out and mouth open for him. 
He slams into your mouth until you can’t take much more, still missing a few inches of him. “Relax your throat, or I’ll fuck it so hard that you’ll be forced to.” He threatens and you try to lessen your muscles tightening. Pulling your hair into his body until your nose is smashed against his pelvis, dark happy trail against your lips.
The gagging makes him practically cum then and there, but he won’t let this end just yet. No, he needs to enjoy this more. unbeknownst to him, you were on the verges of an orgasm just from him fucking into the back of your throat one time. You hand slides down to touch your clit and rub yourself in gentle circles.
Sliding out, he rams his cock back into your waiting cavern and begins a relentless speed, shoving himself further and further each time until he can see the bulge of his dick in your esophagus. His head falls back and his fingers tighten in your hair, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as he brutalizes your throat and refuses to stop. His hand pins your head between the countertop of the kitchen and his postponing hips, refusing to stop until he feels your nails on one hand digging into his thighs and making him almost cum. You groan on his dick and he realizes that sound, he knows that's a signal that you've just finished with your own hand. He yanks himself out and starts fisting his cock fast as you cough and gasp for air, tears still forming mascara tracks down your cheeks. 
He bends down and hurls you over his shoulder, then throwing you onto the ground of the living room and making you do a split on your back, blushing at how exposed he had you. Three sharp claws formed from his fingers and he shredded the hips of your suit, bending down to your tits and latching the top in his mouth so when he turned his head, the rip was loud and your nipples were open to the cold air. 
“You’re going to lay here and take my cock until the only words you know how to say are ‘Miguel please fuck me.’ And I’m not stopping until you pass out from exhaustion.” He declares and puts the tip of his dick in your entrance, not even wasting a second and thrusting into you completely, making a scream tear through your throat in pain as he once again found your hair and thrusted. The lack of accommodation made you tighter than you’d ever felt, jerking hips his harder as your hand fell onto his abs to push him away, hiccups coming from your lips as the pain begins to grow at how hard he could go. 
“That’s it, shut the fuck up and take this cock. Cry about it, try to get away, but I’ll pull you back and fuck. You. Harder.” He rammed his hips into yours to punctuate every word of the end of the sentence. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to get up for work tomorrow.” He says as he pounds his tip into your cervix, most definitely bruised and possibly hurt worse. But god, did it feel good, watching him get so crazy, so psychotically obsessed with you. 
“Migu-el!” Your words get broken up with as I should have been gone. 
“That’s it, my little bitch in heat, I’ll fuck you so hard, your entire bottom half with be black and blue.” He grunted and groaned, starting to feel like an animal on the discovery channel, then bending down and biting into your skin hard. Blood drew at the little punctures and he continued to bite deep, painful marks all over, looking like you were stung by a bunch of bees. His hands slid up your back and you felt the claws in his fingers latch onto you, scrapping across your smooth body and forming bloodied lines and marks of what looked like pure aggression, but if only everyone who saw them knows… 
You were fucking loving this.
Your body looked like an anomaly mission gone wrong; dark, scattered bruises that looked like they’d take weeks to heal, punctures all over your body like you were a piece of cheese, and red scraps like you’d tumbled into a bed of razors. All done by Miguel and his primal needs, and you’d let him do it again and again as long as he used his cock to completely pummel your insides. 
“F-fuck me, please, Miguel…” you gasped and choked out as his eyes blared red like sirens on a cop car, heaving and large above you. You orgasm around him and he makes a sound as if he’s a roaring lion.
“That’s it, ask me to destroy this slutty pussy, to breed you, to own you.” His words come out in an octave you didn’t know he could reach and your back arches, keeping his dick in you as he flips you over. 
Like a battering ram in and out of your pussy, he holds your arms and yanks your body back and forth on his cock like his own life sized pocket pussy. “Perfect little cocksleeve, letting me use her body like a fuckin whore. Only mine, no one else can touch you, mine.” he grunts and growls as he attacks your back again, wet lines of him basically slobbering all over you like a dog. He humps into you at a dizzying speed and you cum again, the searing burn of a too-fast orgasm swimming through your belly as he smiles and ruts upward, bullying your g-spot more and more. 
“One more, you can do one more, right?” He insists and makes sharp, hard movements against that spot. You weep louder as the lewd sounds of your wet pussy sucking him in and milking him dry echo around the room. Miguel moves to web together your arms behind your back, holding them now with one hand and grasping the back of your neck like a handle with the other, smashing his hips into your suffocating insides. "I'm not asking, you will give me one more, I want to feel your cunt clamp down on me again and try to suck the cum out of my cock."
Everything becomes white noise as another painful and overwhelming orgasm wracks though your body, making you jerk and shutter wildly as he holds you in his control and rides you through it. 
“That’s it, you’re my fucktoy, my personal little cunt for me to ruin and get pregnant. Gonna be all knocked up, gonna let me cum in you and fill you up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck this cunt for the rest of my fuckin life.” His words send him tumbling into his own climax, shooting his seed so deep inside you that you swear it’s gonna spill out of your mouth. Miguel’s dick is so deeply buried within you as he cums that your legs shake and the muscles cramp, dropping below him. You’re completely fucked out, everything feeling like an irritation to your bloody, bruised skin. 
And the look on Miguel’s face is heartbreaking once he looks at you. Yes, it makes his dick hard again, but it makes his mind unravel into panic. He needs to apologize. How could he mark you up like this, damage you like this? He never should have let go, never should have-
“Wanna go again?” You mumble out and give him a little smirk. And he completely malfunctions.
“You… enjoyed that?”
“Are you joking? That was the most amazing sex of my entire life. We can do the sweet sappy stuff I taught you some other time, now abuse my cunt with your cock again please.” You beg and Miguel thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. 
You will be the death of him, and as he plunges into your hole once more, propping a pillow under your hips, he thinks about what type of sex playlist you two are gonna make together.
4K notes · View notes
rachalixie · 4 months
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a/n: my tiktok feed has been full of the orange peel theory and i know minho would be the perfect research participant for it.
“i really want an orange,” you sigh, nuzzling a little further into where you were buried into minho. he hums in agreement, eyes flickering to you for a moment before trailing back to the tv. 
“we just got some tangerines from jeju,” he strokes a hand up your arm. “they’re on the counter.”
“yeah,” you pout up at him, leaning forward and trying to catch his eye but he keeps them trained on the screen. “but i don’t want to peel them.”
“then i guess you’re not getting an orange,” he snarks, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips when you huff and relax back into him. you grumble a bit and he ignores you, the only inclination of his attention being the hand he continues to stroke up and down your arm. 
a few moments later he shuffles out from under you, leaving you hunched into the place in the couch he was just occupying. you shoot him a glance that’s half curious and half accusatory, a bubble of hope building up in you. 
“just gotta use the bathroom,” he explains, and the bubble bursts. right. 
“hurry back,” you tell him, and you’re sure you look a bit ridiculous sprawled out like you are. 
“okay, boss,” he rolls his eyes, leaving the room swiftly, and for the first time tonight your attention is fully on the tv. he really doesn’t know how distracting he is, even when he’s not doing anything. 
he comes back just as the episode is ending, and you can tell that it’s going to end on a cliffhanger. you don’t look away from the screen as you recap him on what he’s missed, filling in the details that have led to the scene right now that has your heartbeat in a chokehold. 
you let him slot himself next to you again, lifting yourself up so he could slide under you and settling your head down into his lap, your gaze not wandering from the tv for a single second. it’s only when the episode finishes and the tv screen turns black with end credits that you notice it. 
the smell of fresh oranges. 
you might have explained it by the scent of the fruity hand soap he keeps stocked in your bathroom, but that one is lemon scented, not orange. a quick flick of your eyes upwards fills in the gap, and you’re shooting up from his lap with a blinding grin on your face so quickly that your head spins. 
“careful!” he warns, balancing the plate of freshly peeled orange slices in one hand as he steadies you with the other. 
“you peeled me oranges!” you can’t stop smiling as you ignore his reprimand. 
“yeah? you said you wanted some,” he furrows his brow, looking a bit confused, which is entirely unfair. he knows that he has tsundere tendencies. 
“you passed the orange peel theory test,” you gush at him, taking a slice into your hands and holding it like it was something precious. 
“i passed the what?” 
“i’m going to eat these oranges,” you continue as if he wasn’t talking, popping the slice in your mouth and groaning at the taste immediately. it’s so good. “and then i’m going to make out with you. for a long time.”
“well if this is the reward i’m going to get, i’ll peel you oranges every day.”
soft hours
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livinginshambles · 10 months
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You're ridiculous, you know | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.0k
Summary: Part one Masterlist
James sees you in a new light and wants to try to change the way you see him too, moment by moment. He is trying to win you over but understands that you're having a hard time believing that he's genuine about his feeling because of his sudden switch of focus from Lily to you (even though it gave him whiplash as well, but I guess he just accepted it faster.)
Notes: Best friend!James, he's less stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, fluff, pining, misunderstandings, (best) friends to lovers I guess, spelling mistakes probably because I typed this out on my phone.

______________________

With the hatch buried between you and James, you felt like you could finally properly breathe again. James had apologized again, of course and told you that he supported your new style.
Trying to balance your two friends groups however, did prove to be much more difficult than you thought. Neither of the two seemed very entertained by the thought of hanging out together as one group. Besides, James had become rather clingy as well, becoming his very own one man group to balance hanging out with.
"I now have abandonment fears," he jokingly defended when you raised your eyebrows at his arm, wrapped around your waist instead of your shoulder like usual while you two were walking down the open court yard.
"Right," you replied, seemingly not very impressed. You knew what he was trying to do, especially after your rejection. After all, save from Lily, he'd never actually been rejected. You assumed that this too, was a matter of pride. "You have nothing to prove you know," you told him and he merely hummed in reply.
"And anyway, you'll have to let me go now because my mum sent over some dresses for me. I'm planning on trying them on with the girls."
The grip on your waist tightened.
"No," he pleaded, "Don't leave me." He dramatically leaned his entire weight on you, dragging you down as well. Was he always this heavy? You incredulously thought.
"James, you'll make us both fall! Get up you're-"
"The earth is dragging me down. I can't help it, Love," he said in a playful, strained voice.
"Unless you want to spend the afternoon giving your opinion on dresses, I suggest you fight back against the earth, oh brave Gryffindor." You retorted, amusement clear in your voice.
James immediately straightened up. "Sure, I'll review your dresses," he happily replied.
‘Well’, you contemplated. You supposed it’s not as if you've never gotten dressed around eachother.”

Your mum had been very delighted at the news that she could go ahead and send over a dress through the mail. She went a tad bit overboard though, you thought as you looked at the heap of clothes on your bed.
James was sitting next to the said heap, waiting patiently for you to get changed in the bathroom. A pit formed in his stomach at the thought that he'd made things weird enough for you to want to get dressed in the bathroom. 'I mean, you've seen eachother naked before?' He thought. Not that he was aiming to see you naked of course.
His hands weaved through the beautiful clothes. He was sure they'd all look splendid on you. Would you go with him to the Yule Ball? His heart clenched. Probably not. You rejected a date with him to Hogsmeade. No way were you going to accept going to the ball together.
James stared out of the window, a lost feeling washing over him. How could he turn this around? Would you ever look at him that way?
The door opened and James' breath stopped, literally. It was simply perfect.
Mesmerizing, he thought.
'Merlin this was only the very first dress, how would his heart survive the dozen other dresses? You looked radiant. Like actually radiant. The dress made you glow with beauty and confidence. The color was what he could only describe as your color and made you look like bloody royalty.' He knew his opinion was biased, but it was still the truth, he thought.
And so his mind started racing. You were going to go to the ball, looking like that, with a date who was someone else. Jealousy flared up at the thought. He had to internally slap himself to shake him out of it.
You had taken his long silence as a negative opinion and quickly brought your arms to fold over your middle, covering yourself. "Not this one then?" You asked.
"No. I-I mean yes, sorry. I was distracted."
You felt slight disappointment at his words. Another sinking feeling in your stomach, but you reasoned with yourself that he just wasn’t used to doing this sort of activity with you. "You don't have to do this you know." You gently said and sat down next to him.
"Do you have a date to the ball?" He blurted out in response.
You were taken aback by the change of subject but shrugged. "There's been a few people who’ve asked, but I don't know. I've never talked to them before and it feels a little superficial that they only now would ask me out, just because they noticed I look and dress differently."
James could feel his heart plummet even lower if that was possible. Did you think that about him as well? You wouldn't be wrong of course. He'd only started to view you in a different light when you decided to go for a different style, and stopped only hanging out with the marauders after all. Guilt started to weigh his mind.
"Are you going to ask Lily out?" You tentatively asked.
"Of course," he automatically responded, without having processed the question. Your face fell a little. A confirmation, you thought. You were right. Maybe you'd have to accept one of the student' proposals for the Yule Ball after all.
James’ eyes widened and he quickly averted his eyes when you unzipped your dress right next to him. "The bathroom?!" He sqeaked out in panic.
You put on a grin. "Well, you look like you're bored and me taking my time in the bathroom will take too long. I guess I could just very quickly change here. Besides, you've seen me naked before."
James was somehow feeling more hurt at the prospect of you getting changed in front of him, than hiding in the bathroom. It meant that you really only saw him as a friend, he sighed.
You on the other hand, decided that you were hellbent on refusing to let your dynamic with James change because of unrequited feelings.

James was lying on his bed, wide awake. He couldn't sleep, mind wandering off to you, and he rolled around in frustration at himself and yelled into his pillow. Ashamed, he looked around if the he'daccidentally woken anyone up. He didn't.
He was restless. None of his subtle advances had apparently been noticed by you. And if they had, then you'd blatantly ignored them. James wasn't sure which option he liked better.
Tears of frustration and misery welled up in his eyes. He'd seen you get asked out by three different people today, and every time, his heart would stop, scared that you'd say yes.
The past few days, his eyes couldn't leave your figure as you went off to hang out with Lily, and he cursed himself for never having noticed you, too focused on Lily. He groaned and turned around again in his bed. "You're the perfect best friend," is what you had told him this morning when he had saved you from an awkward conversation with a seventh year Ravenclaw. His stomach had dropped.
'But you agreed to hang out with just him,' he kept telling himself in reassurance. Tomorrow was finally weekend and an off day which meant it was time for your not-date. At the thought, his heart lightened, and he managed to finally fall asleep.

You really weren't complaining at all. If anything you couldn't help your body from completely leaning into James who had once again wrapped his arms around your waist. Arms that were firmly holding on to you as if to not let you leave his side.
A week had passed since he asked you out on a date, and you and James were finally off to Hogsmeade together, your own heart both seering, as well as clenching at the thought that this was merely considered 'hanging out'.
Yes, you'd very much wanted it to be a date. Exactly like James had described it. Just the two of you, together on a date, which in a way was kind of what you were doing right now, even if you denied calling it that.
And if you weren't absolutely sure that you were setting yourself up for disappointment and heartbreak at the prospect of not working out because of his feelings for Lily, you would've definitely agreed with the biggest grin on your face.
But you were sure that that's what you'd be setting yourself up for. And having conflict avoiding tendencies had you make rational decisions such as then. Besides, the fact that he was going to ask Lily out to the Yule Ball confirmed that you had made the right decision.
'Could've been a date though', your mind seemed to whisper, and you grimaced. 'And then what,' you thought. 'Even if he settles for me, it would just be unfair for both of us. He never gets to be truly happy and I never get to be truly loved.' You scoffed.
"You okay, Love?" James shook you out of your train of thoughts, a concerned look on his face and he slowed his pace to a stop to properly look at you. His hands found their way to the sides of your face, his eyes searching yours.
You turned your head to the left and stuck out your tongue. He jerked away in surprise with a loud laugh. "That's foul!" He yelled. He was about to wipe his hand on his trousers when he stopped and then looked contemplatively from his hand to you and back.
Your grin was wiped off your face at the sight of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and wasted no time to sprint off.
"You keep that hand to yourself Potter!" You shouted with a laugh.
"Absolutely not, you get back here!"
"This is a new dress, no way I'm letting you wipe your hand on it!" You quickly shot back and looked behind you to see him quickly catching up on you.
You watched with a face of disdain as he calmly wiped his hands with your sleeves, holding you in a headlock. "So unfair", you muttered.
James childishly stuck his tongue out and released you from his grasp.
It had you tumbling to the ground. "Hey!"
"Alright truce?" He asked and he stuck his hand out, both to seal the deal as well as help you up.
When you moved to shake his hand, he smirked. 'Oh so naive. You should know better.'
You noticed the trap far too late and weren't able to pull your hand back fast enough-
"James! Now that's foul!" You shrieked at his wet hand. Undoubtedly, because he'd spit in it moments before.
James was doubling over in laughter, and you took the opportunity to wipe your hands on his sweater. He let you.
“You’re ridiculous you know,” you shook your head.
“And you not at all,” he grinned. James wrapped his arms securely around your waist again, and you continued to head to Hogsmeade.

James looked at you from the bar counter. He was waiting for the drinks he ordered and admired you from afar. You were already sitting at a table in the corner for two and were munching on some snacks you had fished out of your bag, waving at him with a warm smile when you caught his gaze.
Sure, up until recently, he’d always seen you as the cool best friend that he could share everything with, tackle to the ground, tell gross jokes to, or get shirtless around when changing clothes. He was used to not at all treating you differently than Sirius, Remus or Peter, because in his eyes, you belonged to the same category.
But now, even though James also absolutely didn’t want your dynamic to change, he was conflicted because he finally saw you in a different light. He just had to try and make you see him in a different light as well.
The bartender gave him his drinks and he walked over to you with a grin. “Pick one,” he told you, still standing next to you and holding the mugs behind his back.
“Left,” you chose without hesitation. He put the mug in front of you and you looked suspiciously in the mug. At the sight of the green liquid you squinted your eyes at him. He put his own mug down and you leaned over the table to peer into it as well. Blue.
“Are you trying to poison us both?”
James snorted and sat down in front of you, “You got me.”
You kicked his leg under the table and he pretended to be in excruciating pain. “You wound me, Love,” He groaned exaggeratedly, all the way slouched down his chair and gripping his leg to sell his point.
“Want me to kiss it better?”, you teased and then immediately awkwardly paused. See this would’ve been a normal thing to say if you said this a month ago, but now it just made things weird. James however was grinning from ear to ear, absolutely soaking in the thought and cheekily replied, “Oh, darling, you must.”
‘Alright cheeky bastard’, you thought. Shaking your head with a chuckle, you moved your chair back and ducked under the table. James' eyes widened in shock, especially when you grabbed his leg.
“Drinking all by yourself?” Frank’s voice had both of you freeze up.
You moved to get up from your crouched position, planning on using a fallen hair tie as an excuse when James blurted out a different excuse. “No, just waiting for Y/N, she went to the bathroom.” You groaned and hit your head repeatedly against James’ knee.
Great, now it would be weird if you just crawled out from under the table.
“Y/N? I was actually looking for her, I mean we’re partners for potions class. You know what, I’ll just wait with you then.”
‘No!” James said, a little too loud, before he could help himself. He cleared his throat. “I mean uh,” James leaned in towards Frank and quietly, as if he was telling a secret, gleefully added, “We’re actually on a date.”
You playfully slapped his leg in a scolding manner.
Frank immediately seemed to get it and wished him good luck before leaving the table.
You scrambled out quickly and when your eyes met, you both burst out in laughter.

Despite your fear that dynamics would change and your resolve that you wouldn't allow it, you didn't mind the change so much if this was how it was going to be from now on, you thought to yourself. James had dramatically thrown himself half on top of you, head buried right under your breasts.
"Rough Quidditch practice", he'd mumbled before collapsing and absolutely melting like snow for the sun into you when you weaved your fingers through his curly locks, the other hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.
When you had tried to pull your hands away to retrieve your book from the bag next to you to pass the time while James seemed passed out, James had whined in protest, grabbing your hands and placing them back on his head.
"Prongs," you tried after a long time but received no answer. you lifted your hands from his head again and finally got a grumbled "What."
"Supper,' you softly spoke.
"Five more minutes, please?"
As if you could deny that request. After another few 'five more minutes' you finally gently pushed him off, both of you sitting up. He looked around, dazed, his eyes drooping and hair messy.
You entered the great hall with James trailing behind you, holding your hand. Peter spotted you and waved you over. James squished himself between Sirius and you, ignoring the other spot front of you that the marauders had saved for him.
"Blimey Y/N, what have you done with Prongs?!" Sirius asked, a horriefied expression adorning his face when James lazily rested his face in your neck. You laughed at his antics and shrugged, getting complaints from James at your movements.
Remus handed you two plates of food. "We saved these for you two."
"Thanks Moony," you gratefully accepted them and poked James with a fork. "Eat, you big baby," you said and pushed the fork in his hand. James internally groaned. But he was so comfortable like this. Why couldn't he just stay like this forever? He reluctantly sat up straight and started eating. He was hungry after all.
"Hey Potter, mind if we steal Y/N for a second?"
"Go away McKinnon," he was quick to respond and stuck out his tongue pettily. "She stays with me, you already had her the entire day."
You amusedly watched them banter. "I think you'll find that I will choose myself where I go, Prongs." And got up from your seat, moving down the long table to sit next to Lily.
"So what the hell was that Prongs?" Sirius inquired as soon as you were out of hearing range. Peter and Remus curiously looked at him.
"Oh, did I forget to tell you guys that I fancy Y/N?"
"Yeah that too, even if it was absolutely obvious," Peter shrugged.
Remus laughed at James' gaping expression. "What Padfoot meant was are you guys like a thing now? Like did we miss something? I thought you said she kinda rejected a date with you?"
James sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, she did." He straightened up again. But I'm working on it though."
Lily nudged you. "So I don't know if I should thank you or pity you."
"Huh?"
"I mean, thank you for getting James to stop pursuing me, but I'm sorry you have to deal with him now," she laughed.
Marlene wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Unless you don't mind having to deal with him of course," she smirked. "You looked pretty comfy," she added.
Alice nodded her head in agreement. "Frank told me you two went on a date last week apparently."
Your friends gasped dramatically and you were quick to deny it. "No, James just said that so Frank would leave us alone," you said and swatted Dorcas when she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Ugh, you guys, be nice to me," you complained while laughing. "We're just friends hanging out, besides he still likes you Lils, look he's still staring at you," you said that last part with a sigh.
Lily raised her eyebrows. "Not at me, he's not." She nudged you again. "Look," she urged you.
You turned your head to look at James and your eyes met. He couldn't help but wink and felt very victorious when you looked away flusteredly, a big smile on your face.
'Could it be?'

Over the course of the next few weeks, James and you had gotten a lot closer. By now, you and James walked through the hallways, his hand always touching you somehow, whether he was holding yours, had his arm slung around your shoulders, waist, or lower back.
You also found yourself hanging around the boys dormitory alone with James more often than ever before. You were laying horizontally across his bed, your head hanging off the side of the bed. James went to the bathroom and you were passing the time.
You kept sliding forward bit by bit and when you were hanging low enough to look under James' bed, a brilliant plan to jumpscare him popped up in your brain. Perfect. You quickly moved to hide under his bed. Your hands ready to grab his ankles when he returned.
The door opened and you held your breath in anticipation. You peeked from underneath the drapes, covering your body and saw him look around surprisedly before a mischievous grin appeared on his face.
He called out your name to be certain and when you didn't respond, he pumped his fist excitedly and hurried to hide inside the wardrobe on the other side of the room, undoubtedly having the same idea as you and you couldn't suppress your laugh anymore. You rolled out from under the bed grinning like an idiot.
James joined you on the floor, although he did seem a little bit bummed out that he hadn't been able to prank you. "I guess genius recognizes genius," he admitted with a laugh.
"I have to go to the library to study," you bit your lip while you said it. Disappointed at the thought of breaking the peace.
James turned his head and looked over at you. You were so close. For a moment, he closed his eyes, relishing in the moment of having you within arms reach like that.
When he reopened his eyes, they flickered over your face and rested a little longer on your lips. It wouldn't take more than him leaning in to easily capture your lips and it took everything in him not to. It almost pained him literally. You turned your head towards James due to the lack of response, checking if everything was alright and if he had heard you when you said you needed to go.
"You're mesmerizing," he whispered softly, the words always on the back of his mind since he saw you in the first dress. You chuckled at that. "Using big words now, huh," you whispered back teasingly, a fond expression on your face.
"No, really."
Those two words left you speechless in surprise. You don't know what it was. Perhaps the sincerity on his face or in his tone. Perhaps the way he emphasized that he really meant it. Or maybe even the way he was looking at you right then. 
Whatever it was, it made you throw your reservations and resolve straight out of the window.
Rational decisions were the last thing on your mind when your eyes locked with James' and then you were both leaning in, meeting each other halfway in a soft, fleeting kiss.
"I think you're mesmerizing as well," You murmured against his lips and you could feel them curl up in a smile.

"You're such an arsehole," you laughed, slapping his ice cold hands away. You ended up not going to the library to study. After all, who needs studying anyway? Instead you and James had curled up against each other on his bed, entangled together and James decided to slide his freezing hands under your shirt, resting on your stomach.
"No, I'm mesmerizing," he huffed and attempted to warm his hands again.
"Did you even wash your hands when you returned from the bathroom?"
There was a long pause and you stared up at him incredulously. "James Potter! You are disgusting," you exclaimed.
“Oh don’t tell me you’ve never forgotten to wash your hands after going to the toilet!”
“Yeah, but I don’t have to hold the- the thing.”
James laughed loudly.
“You suck,” you huffed.
He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I can't be that bad, I won you over in less than a month," he wore a triumphant smile on his face and you wanted nothing more than to smack it off. You didn't of course, and instead buried your face in his neck in embarrassment while grumbling about arrogance. You two hadn't really talked about the kiss that happened 10 minutes prior.
Absolutely refusing to let you pull back mentally and physically, James had been quick to mention how uncomfortable your position on the floor really was, and he proposed to lay down on his bed instead where he changed the topic while still getting comfortable with you. It was his way of letting you know that he wasn't trying to skim over the fact that you kissed or ignore the fact that it happened, but rather that he wanted to ease the tension by doing so.
You were relieved and thankful for him, knowing that that tension would have absolutely made things too awkward for you, and that you would've definitely fled from the room in denial.
"I think I fancy you, James," you eventually quietly admitted to him, your voice muffled as your face was still hidden away.
His grip on you tightened and he pulled you even closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Yeah?" he breathed out, his heart soaring.
"Yeah."
"I fancy you too, Love." And with that you tilted your head up far enough to place your lips in a firm kiss right under his jaw.
There was another comfortable silence and then, "So, how about a proper date. You and me, us, together." He quickly clarified the last part.
You laughed out loud. "Yes please, Hogsmeade?"
"Actually, I was thinking maybe the Yule Ball."
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