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#I just feel like so much is going wrong at the moment but at the same time I think im making too big of a deal out of it
sukunasteeth · 1 day
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Sukuna has never said no to you.
It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 
And you were curious how far you could go with it.
The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.
You were starting to change that.
"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.
"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.
"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 
And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.
"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 
You blink at him in surprise.
"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 
Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 
You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 
Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"
"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."
He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.
"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."
You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.
Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.
It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.
You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.
You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.
He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"
"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"
Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.
It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 
He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"
You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.
"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 
"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."
You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.
"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."
You can’t say no. 
At least it was mutual.
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hgfictionwriter · 2 days
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Comfort
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie's surrounded by star athletes day in and day out - and you're not one of them. Sometimes you can't help but wonder why she chose you or if you fit in.
Warning: Smut. Language.
A/N: A bit of angst, but mostly comfort and reassurance. Written in response to this request.
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“Okay, who’s ready for a game of pick-up?”
Your stomach sank as you looked over your shoulder to see Morgan holding up a ball before dropping it and skillfully lobbying it over to Sam.
Excited chatter started up and people started to move towards the field. You remained rooted to the ground as they navigated around you.
You were at a park with Jessie and a bunch of her teammates for a Saturday afternoon BBQ. The day had been fun so far, you got along with her teammates well and you’d been having a good time. You shouldn’t have been surprised that football would work its way into the day, regardless, you were hoping otherwise.
While everyone here was a star football player, most even Olympic medal athletes, you were just…well, you.
Somehow, you found yourself as the lucky recipient of Jessie’s love and affection. And for the most part, things were amazing. Falling in love with Jessie was easy and she said the same with you, but still there were moments, like this one, where you really felt like you didn’t fit in.
The girls were splitting themselves into teams and Janine waved you over.
“Come on. It’s just for fun!”
You gave her a wave of thanks and shooed her off, and she eventually relented. Yeah - like you were going to go out there and end up keeled over after 5 minutes of half-ass running while they sprinted circles around you. Worst part being that would’ve been them legitimately going easy on you.
“Here, split this with me.”
Your stomach fell further. Jessie. Your sweet Jessie. Who would never abandon you or make you feel left out.
“Go on, Jess,” you told her gently as you turned to face her, seeing her holding up a drink and two cups. You mustered up a smile and nodded to the field. “I’m okay, really.”
“I play football pretty much every day of my life. I’ll survive,” she laughed. “I’d much rather have a drink and conversation with you.”
“Jessie…,” you trailed off, some of the defeat bleeding into your voice.
“Come on, sit with me,” she encouraged as she set down the drinks and pulled together a couple of lawn chairs.
You offered her a tight smile and sat down. You should try to be graceful about it all.
“My bet’s on Morgan’s team,” you told her, trying to rid your voice of the heaviness you felt. “Loser buys dinner next.” Jessie gave you a dazzling smile.
“Deal.”
—————
“What’s on your mind? You’ve seemed a little off all afternoon.”
You sighed internally, disappointed in yourself for not better masking the funk you were in.
You nestled your head in a bit to Jessie’s shoulder as you laid in her bed together that evening.
“It’s nothing, really.” You answered and hoped Jessie would drop it. Her fingers idly grazed along the side of your arm, her head leaned against yours.
“Okay. But you’ve seemed a bit…I don’t know, yeah, just off, since the park,” she said. “Did I do something wrong?”
You lifted yourself up to look down at her with a concerned frown.
“Not at all. You’re amazing. Seriously,” you went on before laying back down and wrapping an arm across her torso. You exhaled slowly. “Maybe a little too amazing.”
This obviously caught her attention. You felt her shift and angle herself to try to catch your eye. You pulled her back down onto the bed and though she relented, she asked, “What are you talking about?”
You huffed, more-so in irritation with yourself than anything. Eventually, you sat up, though your legs remained entwined with hers. You distractedly played with the hem of your pyjama shirt.
“I-” You faltered and rolled your eyes. She sat up with you and grasped your hand gently. “I guess I’m just feeling a bit self-conscious.” You looked to her and she watched you quietly, giving you space to speak.
“I mean, I obviously knew going into this that you’re a title-winning, medal-winning, all-star athlete and I’m clearly not, but,” you paused, taking a breath to swallow your doubts and forge on, “I guess I just felt very out of place today.” You watched as a subtle frown formed on her face.
“In what sense?” She asked. “The team loves you.”
“I know,” you relented, “but don’t you ever feel a bit embarrassed that I’m the only one who's not an athlete? I'm, I don't know, average? You had to skip out on the game because of me. And if we ever do physical activities as I group I can’t keep up. And I can’t relate when you’re all talking about training and diets and all of that. I just don’t live in your world. I don’t want you to make accommodations for me or to hinder you in any way. I'm sure everyone expected you to date another athlete. Not even necessarily a football player, but anyone in that world.”
“Baby.” To your surprise Jessie was nearly smiling. “That’s what this is about? I’m so sorry that you’re feeling that way. Have you felt like this before?”
You looked away and shrugged. “Now and then. I try not to let myself get caught up in it.”
“Babe. I wish you would’ve told me,” she said, somewhat chiding but with evident affection. “But I’m glad you told me now. Hey, look at me,” she instructed gently as she grabbed your other hand, now holding both. She went on once you reluctantly met her gaze.
“I don’t need you to be an athlete. In fact, one of the things that drew me to you was how you aren’t one. I don’t care if you can run 2 minutes or 120. What I care about is that I feel so connected to you, how we can talk for hours, how we laugh together, how we support each other. And I’m sorry that I’ve left you feeling like you fall short in some way when it’s just the opposite.”
You gave her a small look and she lifted a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.
“I’m surrounded by football players and sports people all day every day. If that was something I was looking for, I’d say I’d have my pick. But that’s not important to me. And even if it doesn’t seem like it right now, there is life after football for me. Above everything I just need you to know that I love you and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”
You leaned in and wrapped your arms around her, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.
“Thank you. That means so much. I’m sorry I got in my head,” you told her. She kissed your crown.
“Please tell me anytime you’re feeling a little down or insecure. I’m here for you. And I’m happy to reassure you any time you need.”
“Even if I don’t have a 6-pack,” you joked.
“Mm, come on, baby. You know how irresistible I find you,” she said, tone now changing as her hand snuck under the back of your top and her fingers traced along the band of your shorts.
You hummed into her neck as a small shiver went up your spine. Your hips shifted restlessly as a sensation began to stir between your legs.
Jessie moved slightly, causing you to sit up with a pouting look. She smiled at you and leaned in to capture your lips before grasping your hips and shifting you both so she was sitting with her back against the headboard and you were leaned back against her torso, nestled between her legs. She gently brushed your hair to the side and began laying soft, tender kisses along your neck. A small moan worked its way up your throat.
"You're so beautiful." Jessie spoke softly as she continued to lay teasing kisses. "And I want you all the time."
One of Jessie's hands reached up your shirt and cupped one of your breasts, which she began to slowly knead. You let your head fall back against her shoulder, inadvertently opening your neck further up for her, which she took advantage of, now pulling the soft skin gently between her teeth and grazing her tongue along it.
"Jessie," her name already needy on your lips.
"Yes, my love?" She asked rhetorically as she brought her other hand up to rest on your stomach before inching down and sneaking beneath your shorts and the band of your underwear. You rolled your head back further against her in anticipation and you reached down, splaying your fingers out against her thighs and gently digging your nails into the firm muscles you found there. She instinctively rolled her hips up against you and groaned into your neck.
"Baby. You have no idea what you do to me. You get me so wet with just a touch," she whispered against you, goosebumps forming on your skin in response.
"Please don't tease me," you pleaded, hips helplessly thrusting up against the hand that lay achingly close to your clit, but refusing to go over the edge and make contact. You brought your hand up to cup the back of her neck before running your fingers through her hair.
She chuckled against your neck, breath warm and tickling, before she reached further down. Her fingers gently parted your lips, tracing down and you inhaled sharply with a hissing sound.
"I love the way you feel in my arms," Jessie said as she began to kiss the shell of your ear. A shuddering breath escaped you and you rocked your hips against her fingers, looking for more contact. "And I love the way you move for me."
You released a moan as she ground her hips against you and her fingers found your clit, two fingers settling on it and gently, but firmly circling.
"Oh God," you breathed. You could feel your arousal growing and starting to pool at your entrance as she continued to work your clit and trailed her tongue slowly along your earlobe. You began to claw at the back of her head and she groaned low in her throat.
"I couldn't want anyone more," she told you, now switching her hand to your other breast and pulling you tighter against her. Her other hand and fingers remained steady on your clit, dipping down between your folds now and then and prolonging your pleasure. Soft, wet sounds now came from between your legs with each motion of her fingers.
Soon, your hips were moving in time with hers as her breathing began to grow heavier in your ear and only turning you on more. Her fingers continued to attentively explore your slick lips and always returning to your sensitive bud, each time causing you to melt further into her arms and she embraced you without fail.
Your head was turned in towards hers now and you were tugging at her hair as your peak approached. Your hips began to stutter against her fingers, jaw slack and eyes closed.
Suddenly, she withdrew her fingers, your eyes reluctantly opening at the unexpected loss. You tilted your head back to look at her and you saw her eyes trained steadfast on you.
"I want to see you," she said, her voice thick and needy as she began to maneuver you both. She turned you around and kissed your neck hungrily as she began to peel off your clothes. "God, you look amazing," she breathed in admiration as her eyes devoured you.
She laid back on the bed and pulled you on top of her so you were straddling her waist. Her hand was cupping your heat, fingers languidly massaging you as you settled in and looked down at her.
You leaned down, bracing your hands on her chest as you kissed her deeply. The kiss was interrupted, your mouth falling agape as she sunk two fingers inside of you, her thumb now nestled on your clit.
You let out a high moan, tossing your head back and pushing your hips back against her hand.
"Fuck, baby. You're so wet," she said as her thumb began to circle your clit again.
"How can I not be?" You managed to say, pulling a small smirk out of her. She rushed up to meet you, kissing you deeply and wrapping her free arm around your waist before pulling you back down with her onto the bed.
You kissed each other hot and heavy, contact only breaking when high moans fell from your lips as Jessie held you close and steadily pushed in and out of you.
"I'll never get over how good you feel around me," she whispered into your kiss as you rocked against her, your arousal pooling in her palm. "You're perfect for me."
Her strokes were deep and measured, each sending waves of pleasure through you. Between that, passionate kisses and her words of adoration, it felt like she was engulfing you in the most amazing way possible. It wasn't long before you drew a deep, sharp breath and you began to spasm around her thick, generous fingers.
"Oh fuck," you breathed, clutching yourself to her, "Jessie. Oh my god."
"I love you," she responded as she held you tightly through your orgasm. She kissed your face as your body shuddered.
Several moments passed and you eventually collapsed on top of her. She held herself inside of you and slowly played with your hair, laying lingering kisses along your temple as you caught your breath.
You lay in each others arms, neither of you feeling the need to speak. You continued to rest your head against her shoulder and she relished the feeling of your body on top of hers.
Eventually, she spoke, her voice soft to not disturb the mood too much.
"Can I get you some water?"
You shook your head. "No. Stay with me." She nodded against you and gave you a light squeeze.
"Always."
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talaok · 2 days
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Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…
warnings: jelousy
a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 
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It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...
and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face one... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.
But it still wasn't hate
Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits
And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?
"You're staring"
Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you
"I just don't get why he's here"
You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"
"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,
"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"
Yeah right
He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.
You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 
he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,
and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.
"I saw him look at you before"
This time, you did let out a little snort
"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"
But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you
"I'm sorry to interrupt-"
Then fucking don't
"I just wanted to introduce myself" 
Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior
"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy
"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"
As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists
This fucking guy-
"Hi pal"
Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off
"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"
The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea
"Oh, I didn't know you were married"
Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room
Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 
How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?
It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious
"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"
"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him
"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"
Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye
"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"
Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it
He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement
"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"
Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly
"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"
"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 
You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place
"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement
"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""
Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head
"listen, man-"
"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"
Shawn let out a loud breath before responding
"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"
"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"
You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time
"that was a bit harsh"
Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist
"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked
Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength
"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck
"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing
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brucewaynehater101 · 3 days
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Just read a fic about Tim finally getting post patrol ice cream and his own renovated room after admitting to never getting any unlike his siblings and now I'm imagining an AU
Imagine this, Tim is tired, pulling an all nighter, because he did too poor a job at pretending as Robin, and it's too late to do damage control. Not in front of villains or heroes alike
But the people
They've caught onto how the third robin receives less than the first two
Robin acts less like a child, less like a son to Batman, and more like a 'Business Partner's as he said with his own words. Like a handler
Robin who has to put work into keeping Batman from overexerting himself, from cruelly punishing those who fall victim to him
Robin who receives less praise or care from Batman and cares for both himself and his "Boss" as he said with his own words
And it gets worse after the mantle passes down to Stephanie and Damian because the people notices how even as Batman treats them better than the third, now rebranded as Red Robin—
—Red Robin is still as much a Business Partner to batman as he always has been since the Dark Knight's loss of his second bird
And as much as tries to keep things buried, word is spreading that Red Robin is black sheep of the batfamily, and he won't be able to hide it for much longer
Have fun with this idea lol
I know the fic you're talking about! "with the exception of..." by DSS1101. That's a good one!
"Home Decor" by sElkieNight60 is about Duke remodeling his room as part of the new Wayne member tradition. This brings up feelings in Tim cause his bedroom still looks like a barely used guestroom.
The concept you've mentioned gives similar vibes to a hc/au post I read about how JJ (Joker Junior) isn't known by anyone but the goons/Rogues, Barbara, Jim, and Bruce. All the other Bats don't know. In consideration of Tim, electric shock weapons are immediately put away when Red Robin arrives on scene (I love that idea so much).
I think, with the Gothamites around when Bruce was going on his grief spiral almost killing spree, people feel a kinship with Tim. They couldn't have stopped Batman and, with part guilt and part relief, it seems only a child could. They watch this child, who seems to be sacrificing everything for a brutal and cruel man, and how he pulls Batman back into the symbol he's supposed to be. It brings out the protective and parental instinct of a lot of people.
This cues civilians, goons, and rogues alike trying to assist Robin in small ways. Tim as Robin had people offering him food (in sealed containers), giving him compliments, handing him scarves or hats (how could Batman let a child out in this weather without a hat?!?!?), and more. They tried to give him small moments to be the child he was pretending he wasn't. He obviously wasn't getting decent parenting at home if Batman was just his boss and his real folks were letting him out to fight.
There's a kind of guilty gratefulness towards the third Robin and a protectiveness of him. All young Bats are treated with care by civilains and some goons, but Robin three was special. He willingly became the barrier between Batman and Gotham. A lot of folks owe their ability to work (and not have exorbiant medical debt and medical conditions) to Tim. He saved them by damning himself. He needed the support Batman obviously wasn't providing.
Tim, as intelligent as he is, doesn't realize the affect he has on Gotham's older population. The younger ones will react with slightly more respect towards him than the other Bats, but they weren't around to see what Tim's sacrifice did for everyone.
Tim, with his self-doubt and hero-worship of his predecessors, thought his treatment throughout Robin was the work of those who came before him. Of course Gothamites trust and help out Robin when Dick and Jason built that foundation.
He's not exactly wrong, but it isn't to the extent they actually do for Tim.
Unfortunately for Tim, Damian and Jason do know that his Robin was treated with such reverence. They don't know why, but their Robins did/do not get treated that way. They chalk it up to Tim being the "perfect" and "can do no wrong" Robin. It's one point of contention they are unable to clear up due to Tim not knowing about it and the other two not wanting to explain their jealousy.
Steph was not treated as well as Damian and Jason when she was Robin. She, in this AU, was not treated as much of a crutch as Tim is. Despite that, her Spoiler/Batgirl/whatever persona gets some of the protectiveness that Tim's personas do. Bruce was more healed with Steph, but he was still an ass. That was obvious to any Gothamite watching.
Steph, because she was around at the time and talks with Gothamites to know what rumors are floating around, becomes aware after her death of why Tim's Robin is held up with such respect. This allows, unknowingly to Tim, for them to reach more understanding. With her knowledge of Tim's time as Robin, she's able to point out how he was being an ass, what he should've done instead, and that she herself was sorry for some of her actions.
When more and more individuals cue into Tim's black sheep position in the Batfam, this could go two ways.
One, Tim is targeted more due to his lack of support.
Two, Gothamites and Rogues increase their aid to Red Robin and become slightly cold to the Bats for their treatment of him.
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AITA for refusing to be friends with people who don't have any siblings?
I (20F) have two brothers and two sisters, I am the middle child and luckily I have a good relationship with my siblings even though we argue sometimes like most siblings do. so a few weeks ago, I was at uni and I met this goth girl, she was extremely witty and funny, and overall I rlly enjoyed being around her. I would laugh my ass off because she's hilarious and I can tell she's also intelligent and kind, I liked her so much I even gave her my number after a few days.
we sent each other memes and at some point I mention how I couldn't talk anymore at that moment bc I had to take my youngest brother out since he wanted to go watch a movie. afterwards, I told her a little more about my siblings and she says it's easy to tell I'm a good sister for looking after my youngest brother, and that she thought it'd be cool to have a sister like me, but she's an only child.
for some reason...this made me completely lose interest in her? which is weird bc like I said I do enjoy her company. I then realized all my friends have at least one sibling. I didn't know how to explain this to her so I ended up just ghosting her. I feel like people who are an only child just don't GET me and I want to be able to relate to my friends. I have been inadvertently avoiding people without siblings all my life. I realize I just don't want to be friends with someone who has no siblings but I know this seems like a pretty stupid reason to not want to be friends with someone. tbh if this girl had at least one sibling I would still want to be her friend.
I do feel like an asshole however I don't think forcing myself to be friends with people is a good idea. I also feel bad bc I was the one who wanted our friendship to progress faster and then I just ghosted her completely even tho she did nothing wrong. what should I do? AITA?
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so I was going over your overlord husk posts and found the one where he's paired up with a nanny reader. and I thought, oh, what about a Lucifer x nanny reader?
like instead of Lilith leaving when Charlie was older, she left when she was a small child? and Lucifer being too busy with royal duties, hires a nanny to look after Charlie?
A/n: 👀👀, I feel like Lucifer would fall in love sooo fast the moment he see's how close you and Charlie are.
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With Lilith leaving, Lucifer did his best to take care of Charlie but of course nothing ever came easy. It got to hard, to overwhelming and that is why he hired you.
He didn't think much of you, the man barely spoke with you since he was so busy with work but when he did have the time to meet with you he was surprised by how kind you were and as long as Charlie was happy than he was happy too.
Anything for his little princess.
He was working late one night when he heard the laughter of his daughter. His curiosity couldn't help but take hold of him a he left his office, following the sound of the laughter the man stopped in his tracks as once he spotted you.
His heart racing in his chest spotting you playing with Charlie, the little girl clinging tightly to you as you spun her around the room. Tilting his head to the side a soft smile formed on his lips though his eyes then went wide as he placed his hand to his chest as he stepped away. "Oh know....oh know."
Lucifer ran his fingers through his hair as he quickly rushed away from the scene. This couldn't be happening.
"What is wrong with me?!" Lucifer ran his hand down his face but yet he could not get the images out of his head and how you were with his daughter. He couldn't help but think how good of a mother you would be.
Biting his lip, he then took a deep breath as he straightened his form. A nice family day sounds nice, yes it will be perfect.
A nice day, out. Just you him and Charlie, a perfect family....he just has to ask you out first.
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bluejutdae · 1 day
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“Oh, let there be hotel complaints” | Chan x you
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warnings: nsfw, D/s dynamics, face and pussy slapping, overstimulation, mention of safewords, Daddy kink.
This is just Chan brain rot and my mind gently suggested me the image of first time inexperienced Dom Chan who wants to try some BDSM but he’s too scared to hurt you so he decides he’a going to try on himself all that he’s gonna do to you…
Title from Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier
Chan has had plenty of vanilla sex, but then you introduced him to BDSM, and especially the concepts of Doms and Subs, and something switched in him. He started reading online forums and blogs. And when the topic arose again, he clearly told you he’s interested, but he won’t do it yet. Because the thing is: despite how hard even just reading stuff about it makes him, he has no experience, and he won’t risk hurting you.
So, he does what any good Dom should do in his eyes, he tries things on himself.
One day you turn home to find his face red and a bit swollen, but when you ask about it, he just distracts you with filthy kisses. What you don’t know is that he slapped and slapped and slapped himself until he deemed he had found the right strength to use.
Another day he disappears for the whole afternoon and, when you see him in the living room, he looks flushed and a little exhausted, but giddy. Just like Changbin when he maxes out at the gym and he’s incredibly tired but proud of himself. What you don’t know is that he spent the afternoon edging himself with a vibrator on his shaft and his tip and, after hours of denying himself, he came and proceeded to overstimulate himself, because it’s only logical to pair up the two experiences, right?
What you noticed though, is that there’s a change in him. He’s more assertive with you on some days, makes sure you eat and doesn’t let you go to sleep if you haven’t removed your makeup. Pushes you to sleep more when he knows you have had a bad day at work, and every time you comply and thank him for taking care of you, he kisses a little filthier, holds you a little firmer.
It’s months later when he asks if you can try something kinkier. You’re excited and happy and you start to mentally prepare yourself to be a good teacher without forgetting this is about pleasure. But then Chan shows you exactly how deep the still water runs deep.
“You’re gonna sit there” he says and he’s so commanding yet sexy you melt instantly. “And we’re gonna have a quick talk. Nothing too extreme is going to happen today, but I need to establish some rules”. You nod in response, and he looks at you with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna use your pretty words, baby girl.” That’s it. Not a suggestion, not an option, a rule. Fuck, you knew he would be good at this.
“I understand.”
He’s quick with the rules: you must verbally answer, you’re gonna use the traffic light system for now, you must use the safe word if you need to, and the moment you think something’s wrong he’s gonna stop. You also must ask for what you want, not just take it.
Not too long later you’re on the bed, shirt previously discarded and clad only in your panties. And Chan is completely dressed, hovering over you. He’s been kissing you deeply and touching you just enough to make you want so much more. You’re embarrassingly wet and you’re sure you’ll have to throw away your panties. He’s holding your crossed arms at the wrists and, in doing so, he’s holding you down. You try to buck and raise your ass to relieve some of the dull aching you’re feeling in your core. “C’mon Channie, touch me.”
“But I am touching you…” he replies with a smirk on his lips. His free hand caresses your face, and he tests the gives of your lower lip with his thumb. When you suck on it, though, he takes it away and shakes his head. “What did I say?” You are lost, what happened? Did he say something?
“You’re just a cockhungry whore, uh? You can’t even wait for me to give you something, you’re so greedy you just want to take and take.”
Oh.
The realization in your face makes Chan smile. “There it is… tell me what you did wrong, and I might consider going easy on you.”
“I didn’t ask to suck your thumb-” he knows there’s something you want to add, he knows about your Daddy kink. And it turns him so fucking on, but he’s not gonna press about it. He considers your words and considers just letting it slide, but there’s flames licking at his insides.
“Too bad you didn’t ask, uh?”
Sudden, sharp pain irradiates on your left cheek and it’s less the pain and more the surprise that makes you gasp and, less than a second later, moan. Chan wants to apologize, years of conditioning making him feel guilty and mean and abusive, but he can’t deny what he feels.
He grabs your face, fingers splayed where he slapped mere seconds ago, wet thumb digging into the opposite cheek and kisses you messy and filthy, sucking your tongue in his mouth. Chan removes the last piece of clothing you have on and sits on his knees, with his thighs slightly spread apart. He holds your legs open with firm hands, one on your calf and the other clamped around your knee. He’s just… staring at your pussy. You try to squirm away and close your legs, but his eyes are suddenly on you. There’s a warning in his face that accompanies a displeased sound. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry” you blurt out trying to repair something before you do too much damage. You can feel wetness dripping down your folds, and Chan can too. “You’re so wet. Fuck, you love being on display for me…” He has never felt this. There’s a power rush, a shiver starting from his spine and moving towards opposite endings: towards his brain, making him lose words and making him want to act up, want to deliciously destroy you, making a mess of you and then put you back together; and on the other ending, traveling south towards his cock and balls. He’s been ready to cum the moment he sat you down and you agreed to do this.
“Love, are you just going to stare at me?” You ask when you grow too impatient to keep sitting still, a bit embarrassed too by his too focused staring. He shakes his head, and there is a quiet chuckle that can be heard in the room. His lips raise in a slow smirk, like he’s just been made aware of a secret, and you didn’t. And maybe he did.
Chan made plans for tonight. Plural. You told him you like not knowing everything in advance, so he planned different plans based on your responses to his actions. It was harder than organizing recording sessions. But since he saw your reactions earlier, he decides to stick to a precise plan. So, he acts in it.
Quickly and hard he delivers a slap on your inner thigh, the pain is a delicious sensation, hot and cold at the same time. A moment later the skin reddens to show Chan’s handprint and if possible, his cock gets ever harder. It twitches a little from where it’s hidden, head flushed and red, slowly but constantly leaking precum, forming a wet stain on his slacks .
“Fuck Chan!” You cry to his direction, eyes closed shut and brows knit in pleasure. You can feel heat where he hit you, and you want to press your fingers into it, wanting to feel the warmth and the pain and the pleasure. The moment you are ready to ask him for something, he delivers another slap in the same place. This time, though, Chan doesn’t let you breathe it out, doesn’t let you take your time to recover from it, no. He rakes his nails on your hot skin, watches as the skin quickly goes from red to white and to an even redder red where he scratched you. Digs his digits into your skin and revels in your gasps, feeling hot and ready to lose control, if a wind would blow in the room, he would cum in an instant. He’s ready for your next moan, your next gasp, but you’re quiet and your legs are trembling, and he’s scared he’s gone too far. He’s on the verge of apologizing, carrying you to the bathroom for a warm bath and cuddles and more apologies when he realizes he read you wrong. He didn’t give you too much, he gave you exactly what you needed, because -unbelievably so, for him- you’re coming. Clit untouched and your sopping hole twitching and throbbing around nothing, but you’re clearly coming. This is a different one, though. You’ve never been quiet while having an orgasm, but watching you with more attention calms him down, you look fine. He kisses you from your thigh to your cheekbone, stopping to nibble at your nipples, tongue lapping at your skin and sucking quick marks on you. “My pretty slut” a kiss on the nose, “you’re so greedy” a kiss on the right cheek, “your little pussy came untouched” a kiss on the forehead, “now I must give it some attention” a kiss on your chin. “Tell me your color?” He adds, tone sweeter and a hand caressing your face like you’re made of the finest glass.
“Green”. A smile appears on his face and he manhandles you to straddle his slacks covered thigh. Your wetness is seeping through the fabric, you squirm and he can see you’re embarrassed. “I told you I was gonna give it some attention. I want my baby girl to feel good.” He grabs you by your hips and forces you to move and grind your pussy on the fabric of his slacks. One of his hands sneaks into your hair and he pulls, stopping you from hiding into his neck. “No hiding. And stop hiding all your pretty sounds from me.”
The pleasure mixed with the overstimulation are overwhelming, and Chan’s new role is playing a big role in the moment and your arousal. His fingers are probably going to leave bruises in your skin, and you can’t wait to stand in front of a mirror to see them. Chan hands guide you back and forth and soon you’re clenching around nothing, “m’close Channie”, too desperate to control your movements.
“It’s okay, my baby. Just ask for it.” His hard cock is begging to be touched, still in the confines of his underwear and trousers. Yet, he has never been this hard and close to coming untouched. Your moans, the redness on your cheeks, the sweat matting your hair to your forehead and your incessant moans and cries of pleasure are making him lose his mind.
“Please Channie, can I cum?” You pant. “Let me cum, Daddy.” The last word is whispered, muffled into his shoulder but he hears it anyway. And he understands why you like it, the name giving him power, giving him a specific role, giving him the chance to give you exactly what you need.
“Then cum for Daddy.”
He watches you as cum, hands guiding your movements and his muscles flexing to give you as much pleasure as he can. He loves you like this, unabashed and free, vulnerable just for him.
But having you moaning and screaming his name is not enough. He doesn’t stop when you try to take a moment to collect yourself, he fixes his hold on your hips and forces your movements again. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again and it doesn’t matter how loud you whine, it doesn't matter your overstimulation, what matters now is making you cum another time. Anytime he pushes you towards him, he also pushes you down, setting an unforgiving pace that is torture on your sensitive clit. He’s relentless, but after just a few minutes you’re both rewarded with your legs clamping down on his thigh as you cum again. Unbelievably so, watching your second orgasm triggers his own orgasm and he moans your name loudly. He kisses you, messy and hungry, lips demanding and tongue insistent, claiming even your breath.
You’re gripping his shirt so hard, your fingers hurt. He delicately lays you down onto the bed and kisses you softly. As soon as his breathing comes back to normal, his worries come back too.
“Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you? Was it too much? What do yo-“ you interrupt him with silly, quick kisses, trying to diminish his worries.
“I am more than okay.” A kiss. “I feel perfect.” A kiss. “You were perfect.” A kiss. “You’re always perfect, love.” A kiss. “I love you.” A kiss.
You kiss some more and he insists on showering together so he can take care of you and make sure you drink water and eat some fruit and chocolate. He tells you all about trying on himself what he did to you, and you’ve never loved him more.
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erwinsvow · 2 days
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i feel like pogue!reader with rafe would have an interesting dynamic with barry. like, he doesn’t particularly like her - knowing her connection with the pogues, especially jj but at the same time he’s dealing with rafe and pogues as a collective have gotta stick together. he’s also just morbidly curious about how she and country club have became a thing.
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barry laughs when he sees you walking into his place, attached to rafe's side.
"ain't that-"
"that's my fuckin' girl. so watch your mouth." rafe cuts him off before he can finish the rest of his sentence, which is sure to have something to do with the fact that the few times barry's seen you before, you've been with the pogues that rafe supposedly hates so much.
"your girl? is that right? well, pleasure to meet you again, m'barry-"
you look up hesitantly at rafe, wondering if you should say something back, and you briefly reflect for a moment just how different things used to be. with your best friends, with jj and john b and pope at your side, the group of you would go and make yourselves comfortable anywhere. they'd charm their way into the good graces of the host and you never felt like you couldn't just speak your mind.
rafe is different. you don't know if it's bad, if he's bad for you, or not. talking to someone when you know he doesn't want you to feels wrong, feels bad. and you like him taking lead, him showing you the way and calling all the shots.
so you smile at barry but don't engage, looking up at your boyfriend instead. he looks down at you for a second, but you can tell you did the right thing.
"sit down and shut up. c'mon, we got shit to discuss."
"tells me to sit down. in my own fuckin' house. i gotta tell you princess, you picked a real winner here in rafey boy-"
"did y'not hear the shut up part?"
a laugh escapes, though you try to keep it quiet. they go on discussing something that doesn't mean much to you, while you go on your phone and text your friends. rafe's phone rings, and he just steps away for a minute to answer. barry doesn't hesitate a second to get the answers he needs from you.
"so. you and country club. how long's that been goin' on?"
"um, a couple months."
"your boys know 'bout him?" you bite your cheek. they don't, yet.
"not yet. but, soon, i guess. waiting for the right time.." you mumble, playing with a loose stitch on your skirt.
"yeah. i'd get on that. not gonna be too happy, are they?"
"maybe."
"don't they hate your boy as much as he hates them? ain't that.. awkward?"
you think you should be offended by the line of questioning, but rafe talks about barry often enough for you to know that he's not a snitch, that he doesn't care. he's just curious.
and he should be. up until a few months ago, you were never seen without your boys, as barry put it. you used to be attached to jj's arm, permanent passenger princess in pope's truck and the twinkie. it all feels like a lifetime ago.
"i'm hoping we can all make amends," you finish softly, fresh waves of guilt washing through your body. it burns where it goes, a stinging similar to what your friends are gonna feel soon, when they find out you've been dating the boy who's been terrorizing them.
"for your sake, i hope so too."
"what're you two talkin' about?" rafe asks, coming back inside and taking his place next to you. he puts his hand on your knee, brings you in close without having to ask.
you hope it's all going to be worth it.
"nothing."
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Shaking (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have an anxiety attack in a public setting, but luckily, the doctor is there to help you through it.
Word Count: 2450
Warnings: Anxiety attack, mild cursing, mostly just ANGST and then comforting FLUFF
A/N: Wanted to write Spence comforting the reader during a panic attack. Fanfiction is better than therapy, right? At least, it’s cheaper! Also not my GIF
——
“You don’t want to just order it online?” Spencer asked as you walked beside him down the sidewalk. His longer legs would typically mean that he’d be several steps ahead of you, but he always slowed his pace so you wouldn’t have to strain to keep up with him. He also walked on the outside of the path because, let’s face it, he was a gentleman.
You shook your head. “No, I want the whole experience,” you said excitedly as you walked, your face lighting up in anticipation. You were on your way towards a local bookstore, where the third book in your favorite series was being released today. The bookstore was going to be packed, but you were so excited to be one of the first ones in the door, to get your hands on a physical copy. “I don’t ever do things like this, but it’ll be something I think about every time I look at the book sitting on my shelf.”
Spencer nodded, lifting his hand, his thumb and forefinger in an O-shape as he spoke. “Ah, the age-old concept of symbolic treasures. One of the main reasons why souvenirs are such a prevalent part of going on vacation. Did you know the tradition dates back to Ancient Egypt?”
You shook your head as you continued to walk with him. Your boyfriend carried on without fault. “As far back as 2200 B.C, Egyptian Prince Harkhuf traveled to what is now known as Sudan and returned with all sorts of objects to present to his father, the pharaoh,” Spencer explained. His words spat out quickly, compulsively, as though they had to exit his encyclopedic brain. “He brought back items such as incense, ivory, even the skins of leopards to show off to his father.”
“I had no idea,” you told Spencer as you neared the bookstore, smiling sideways at him. You loved it when he spouted off facts like that, like he had to get the information out or else he’d explode. He had confessed to you more than once before that most people found it weird or off-putting or even annoying, but not you. Rather, you loved learning new things. Whatever information he had to share with you was always relevant in one way or another, and it was just one of the reasons why you loved spending time with him - he made you a more knowledgeable, well-rounded person.
Before either of you could say much else, you’d reached the back of the line of the bookstore. You checked the time on your phone. The store would open in about fifteen minutes. The line stretched down at least a full block, from what you could see. Lots of people dressed like characters from the books, shuffling their feet in excited anticipation.
There were at least a hundred people in the line, and after a minute or two, a couple dozen more had filed in behind where you stood. You pursed your lips for a moment, scanning the crowd until your eyes met Spencer’s.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, inclining his head to the side.
You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said. “Just… lot of people.”
Spencer nodded understandingly, then reached down to take your hand. Your fingers twined with his and he squeezed his palm against yours. “I’m right here,” he reminded you. You didn’t love crowds. They always made you feel anxious, perhaps even a little claustrophobic. You and Spencer had gone to a fairly crowded French film festival a few months ago and there hadn’t been an organized line to enter; rather, it had been a cluster of people, all pressed together. And you had felt like you couldn’t breathe. Spencer’d had to pull you to a seat off to the side so you could catch your breath, and you’d missed getting a seat up front like you’d been hoping for.
Right now, you were okay, though. There were people in front of you and behind you, but they weren’t flush against you like they had been waiting for the film festival to open. And Spencer was holding your hand, and you were outside, with the cool, spring morning breeze hitting your face. It was fine. You were going to be fine. You inhaled deeply and exhaled, then nodded your head, feeling the anxiety dissipate. “I’m good,” you told Spencer, looking up at him.
Spencer nodded. He squeezed your hand once again before letting go, only so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and tug you so you leaned against his chest. He kissed the top of your hair. “It’s going to be just fine,” he promised you, and you just smiled to yourself.
About ten minutes later, the store opened. You only knew that because the line started moving, and more quickly than you thought. You squealed in delight and matched the pace of the people in front of you, Spencer by your side with an amused grin on his face. He loved books just as much as you did, if not more, but this outing was definitely just for you. He’d read the other preceding books in this series (literally just because you asked him to and it took him an hour, tops), but he wasn’t a total geek for it like you were.
You finally made it inside the bookstore, a small business, a local place. You’d been inside several times before, but you hadn’t realized just how small the building actually was until you stepped in now. It was two stories, but everyone was tightly packed, with the people and the bookshelves crowding around you as you made it fully inside the store. There was even a line to go up to the second floor, like a queue at an amusement park.
There was little to no breathing room. Everyone was talking as they waited their turn to grab a copy of the new book, and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls and the ceiling and smack you right in the ear. The air felt thick despite the front door and handful of windows being opened, allowing the cool spring breeze to ruffle the pages of the paperbacks on display.
But it wasn’t refreshing. Rather, it was another stimulant that caused the neurons in your brain to fire even faster. You felt your palms get slick. You felt your heart start to pound, and your knees wobble as you shuffled forward in the line. What were you even waiting in line for? You momentarily forgot, blinking a few times before looking up at the man beside you. Spencer was engrossed in looking around the bookstore, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he seemed to find something amusing. But when his eyes came full circle back to you, they were immediately filled with concern. “Y/N?” He asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You couldn’t even hear him. The sound of his voice just bounced off your brain, like you were trapped inside of cellophane. All you could think was trapped. I’m trapped. No way out. Stuck. Caged. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.
You felt your breathing go heavy, and your eyes fill up with tears. Your cheeks were red, bright red, judging from how hot you suddenly felt. “Leave,” you managed to choke out, your voice coming out from your throat. It felt like your throat was lined with thorns, like the words you wanted to say kept getting caught.
Spencer nodded. “Leave? Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can leave,” Spencer grabbed your hand, tugging you along behind him as he murmured “excuse me, pardon me,” to the other patrons, to get through the crowd. Moving against the crowd was so much worse than standing still. All those eyes on you, seeing your red face and the anxious tears trickling down your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, freaking out like this is such a public space. Everyone thinks I’m a freak, you thought. Your anxiety became not about the crowd, but about your anxiety, about how you were being perceived. Your breathing picked up, quickened, and by the time Spencer led you out into the morning sun, you were fully hyperventilating.
The thoughts in your head were racing at the speed of light. You hated feeling nervous like this, but moreover, you hated that Spencer had to take care of you because of it. You felt like you had ruined the day because your head wasn’t on straight, because you couldn’t stand in a crowd of people and hear the cacophony of voices and tamp down your panic.
Spencer led you down the block, about twenty feet from the store, away from the crowd, and your breath was still coming out staccato, unstable as you looked down at your shaking hands. You were crying and hyperventilating and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Spencer kept his hold on your hand and stood in front of you, squeezing his palm against yours. His eyes, those light brown irises with little flecks of green, stared into yours. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, bending his knees so his face was level with yours. “Breathe with me, okay?”
You shook your head, your eyes clamping shut. You were so mad at yourself in that moment. You didn’t want to have Spencer take care of you, to have to drag you out of a bookstore because you were having a panic attack. “Baby, you’re trembling,” you heard Spencer’s voice laced with concern. “Look at me. We’ll get through this together.”
You opened your eyes slowly, and that’s when you realized your entire body was shaking. You looked into Spencer’s eyes and he released your hand so he could cup your face. His fingers anchored under your jaw, his thumbs rested on your cheeks, and his eyes were wide, full of worry, but his voice managed to stay soothing and calm. “Follow my breath, Y/N. Do what I’m doing, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four.”
He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you tried to follow his lead, but you just couldn’t control your lungs. “It’s okay,” he assured you as your brows furrowed, presenting frustration. “C’mon, try again.” He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you managed to match him this time. “Hold for four,” you held your breath while Spencer counted. “And out for four,” you exhaled deeply. “Good, okay, let’s do it again.”
Spencer guided your breath for a few minutes, until you finally felt like you could do it on your own. And when you finally felt yourself coming down from the rush of panic that had sent you into fight-or-flight, you wiped at your wet eyes. “I’m sorry,” you croaked, and Spencer just shook his head.
“No,” he insisted, taking your hand and placing it on his heart. You could feel it beating through his long-sleeved t-shirt. “No, you don’t have to be sorry.” You rubbed your hand against his chest, finding it comforting as you hung your head. “Baby, look at me,” he requested, and you met his eyes.
“Please don’t ever apologize for having an anxiety attack, okay? For one thing, it’s not your fault. You can’t control the chemicals and waves in your brain and how your body reacts to situations,” Spencer began, his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest. You nodded, using the heel of your free hand to wipe away your tears. The crying was over, you were fairly certain, but god, did this suck. “You also should never feel ashamed for having a panic attack, Y/N. It happened, and we’re working through it. It’s a lot like boiling a pot of water, isn’t it?”
You let out a garbled sounding laugh and your brows furrowed. “How so?” You stammered out.
“Well, you set the pot of water on the stove, right?” Spencer began, and you nodded. “And then when it starts to bubble, that’s your anxiety. Some sort of external stimulant - the stove, or, in your case, the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd - is causing the water to bubble. And when the external stimulant increases in intensity, so too does your anxiety. And sometimes, yeah, the pot boils over.” Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “But then you just turn the stove off, grab a dishtowel, and clean up the mess. Problem solved.”
You cracked a half-hearted smile. “So in this metaphor, you’re a dishtowel?” You asked, curling your fingers around the fabric of his shirt.
“Technically, I think it’s a simile, but yes,” Spencer grinned as he looked in your eyes.
“But the book,” you sighed, looking back at the bookstore, which was still filtering people in and out slowly. The patrons leaving the store clutched their new copies of the book in their hands, grinning and taking pictures with their phones, laughing with their friends excitedly.
“Do you want to get back in line and try again?” Spencer asked, and you bit your cheek pensively.
“I don’t think so,” you said softly, defeatedly.
“That’s okay,” Spencer said. You loved that he wasn’t coddling you, he was just feeling it out, seeing what you were up for. “Do you want to get brunch somewhere and come back? Maybe the line will have died down by then?”
You nodded, your lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah,” you agreed. You realized your hand was still over his heart, rubbing at his chest. Your movement halted and you retracted your hand, but before your arm could fall completely at your side, Spencer scooped your hand up and kissed the back of your palm. “What if we come back and they’ve sold out of the book, though?” You asked as Spencer walked with you in the direction of one of your favorite brunch places, just a short walk from the bookstore.
“There are twenty-two independent bookstores in the D.C. metropolitan area alone,” Spencer rattled off. “If this one doesn’t have it, we’ll drive around until we find one that does.”
“What article did you read that told you how many bookstores were in D.C?” You asked. You often liked to challenge him by asking him to cite his sources.
“No article. I did a search on Google Maps last night,” Spencer explained.
“What, because you knew I’d freak out when we walked into this one?” You asked him.
Spencer shook his head. “No, just wanted to have a contingency plan in case our first stop sold out before we got there.”
“Always thinking ahead, huh, Boy Wonder?”
“Damn straight.” A smirk formed across Spencer’s lips.
You shook your head. “You’re the best dishtowel a girl could ask for.”
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emphistic · 1 day
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𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊
𝐀/𝐍: thank you all for more than 505 followers (see what i did there with the song?) have this as a token of my gratitude (this is superr long overdue, mb you guys)
𝐖/𝐂: around 2500
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“Why? Why, Sukuna? Why the hell did you not pull away?” You failed to keep your voice down.
“Baby, please. Trust me, she flung herself on me. I–”
“So you didn't push her off?”
Sukuna raked his fingers through his hair, clearly exasperated and struggling to find the words to answer you. “Look — the last time I did that I almost got arrested for assault. And guess what? You yelled at me for that, too. You said, ‘Why would you do that? You couldn't have just told her to get off?’ So really, what did you want me to do this time?”
You covered your mouth to stifle your sobs, at this point, your mascara was completely ruined, running down your cheeks. “Okay, okay, I get it. I'm wrong, you're right.”
But I crumble completely when you cry
Sukuna turned away from you, scratching his neck. Your mascara was smudged along your cheeks, your tears dampening your eyelashes. He couldn't bear seeing you like this, not when he was the cause. Was it cruel of him to say, to believe, to think, that you were most beautiful this way?
“That wasn't my point, and you know that. You know that damn well, sweetheart.” Sukuna said — after a moment of silence — and turned back to face you, albeit he hesitated before meeting your glossy eyes.
“Then what was it? What was it, Sukuna? Tell me. Enlighten me.” You frantically wiped away your tears as they fell, and though desperate as you were, you were still too slow.
“. . .” Sukuna stared down at you with a stoic expression painted on his face. His gaze remained unwavering, though yours flickered throughout the room, seemingly unable to face him properly. If he knew better, he would realize it was only because you would start bawling immediately after meeting his crimson eyes.
It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye
“Fine!” You threw your arms up, utterly defeated. You had no time for Sukuna's games. “Be that way; go have fun with all your other girls!” You stomped away, but decided — in the moment — to turn around for a second just to flip the pink-haired man off. “Burn in Hell, Sukuna, for all I care. I don't want to see your stupid, stupid face ever again.”
Sukuna sighed, his eyes burned holes into the back of your dress as you left him standing there. Standing there with nothing but his thoughts, dreams, and regrets. Standing there in the club alleyway. The same club alleyway that you pulled him away to so you could yell at him.
But it didn't feel like the same club alleyway, because Something was missing. Something very dear to him — but he was no better than a man.
I'm always just about to go and spoil the surprise
He was no better than a man. He didn't have the courage. He didn't have the brains. He didn't have the wit. He didn't have the assets. He didn't have anything that he had had with you. Not anymore, at least.
Take my hands off of your eyes too soon
He didn't have anything, because you were his everything. You were his light. His match. His flame. He didn't know what his point was. He didn't know. He didn't know. Because alas, he was no better than just a man. A man helplessly in love — with you.
So what would a man — helplessly in love with you — do? Perhaps he would visit your favorite jewelry brand and buy you an exquisite necklace. Maybe he would stop by a florist's shop and get you flowers. Or he could get you a baked good from the local bakery you like so much. And so, Sukuna — possibly being the most indecisive man alive — did all three of those things.
He purchased you a glimmering diamond necklace, a bouquet made up of your favorite flowers, and a cake of your favorite flavor.
Now, Sukuna was never a nervous nor self-doubting man, that was until he met you. He gets butterflies at the thought of you, though he'd never admit that. What could he say? He loved your laugh, the way your eyes crinkle as you do, your smile, your habit of tucking your hair behind your ear, your meticulousness when choosing earrings to match your outfit, your eyes — especially when they appeared to almost be glittering, he loved everything about you. But most importantly. . . He loved you. And that is why he sits in the driver's seat of his car, with his head in his hands and his back hunched over in thought.
He messed up. He messed up bad. And now he had to clean up the mess.
Fifteen minutes prior, his younger twin brother — Yuuji — had given him a pep talk, hyping him up. Yuuji knew how much you had helped Sukuna. He remembered the way Sukuna appeared happier, as if 100 pounds had been lifted off his shoulders — not that he would have any trouble carrying that weight — when Sukuna came home from your first date together. Yuuji saw the difference in Sukuna from that day on. Yuuji saw, Yuuji heard, and Yuuji felt the difference.
Albeit the younger twin could be a bit . . . dull, at times, Yuuji knew that you were what Sukuna needed most. If you had affected Sukuna so greatly when you came into his life, just think about the effects that would take place if you two separated. Yuuji got chills just thinking of that, which was why he was so desperate for his older brother to just rip off the bandaid, set his ego aside, and make amends.
I'm going back to 505
Sukuna was going back. He was going back to you . . . even if it was the last thing he would do. He finally raised his head from his hands and started the car. He was going to see you, apologize and explain how stupid he was being, and he was going to give you all the gifts he purchased. If his words couldn't satisfy you, he was going to spend the rest of his life proving himself to you with his credit card.
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
The drive to your apartment from his penthouse was only 3/4s of an hour, though it felt much longer as his dread grew and grew. It didn't matter how long, how far, how dangerous, the journey — he would always go back to his girl.
His girl.
That's what you were. That's what you are. That's what you will be — for as long as Sukuna lives. He would make sure of that.
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
But it didn't feel that way, certainly not when you opened the door with a frown on your face that only deepened as you immediately moved to close the door upon seeing the pink spikes of Sukuna’s hair. But he was already two steps ahead of you. He — already expecting that reaction — had quickly blocked you from closing the door by sticking his foot out between the door.
Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark
“Sukuna. Didn't I tell you to never—!”
“Baby, please. Hear me out — for just a second.” Sukuna's lips were dry, his throat parched.
“Fine.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, he would've missed it if he was not as desperate as he was now.
Three days. It had been three days since you two had last spoken, in that damned alleyway. Three days of plain torture. Three days of sleepless nights. Three days without you. Three days of Hell.
God, he was so glad to hear your voice again; it was like music to his ears.
The middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start
You slowly pulled the door back and took a step backward, silently giving Sukuna your consent for him to enter. However, he didn't feel deserving of it, so he stayed in his position.
“Look, this is probably a waste of your time—”
“It is.”
He shoved the gifts into your hands.
“Oh? What's this?” You raised a brow, digging your hand through the bags to investigate, but Sukuna cleared his throat and you met his eyes.
“I want to apologize, for what I said and for how I acted. I'm really, really sorry. You know I'm not the best with these kinds of things, but, I really am. Believe me. And . . . I wasn't in the right state of mind, I was already a few drinks in — y’know that — and I know that's not an excuse but, I just. . . I'm sorry, okay? I haven't slept a wink since you left. And I was a fucking coward: I should've done this earlier but I didn't. So—please, forgive me.”
You didn't say anything, averting your gaze to the ground at your feet, and still processing his words. You mulled over what he had said in your head.
“Say something. Anything. Please.” Sukuna was so close to getting on his hands and knees that it was almost embarrassing.
“Sukuna, I don't know what to tell you. I believe you're sorry but I. . . I'm not ready to forgive you, not yet. It's just a lot, y’know? I mean, if you were in my shoes right now, you would feel the same way—”
“That's why I'm apologizing.” Sukuna cut you off, his desperation quickly turning into agitation.
“Yes, I get that, but . . . I'm just not ready to forgive you yet. I'm not ready to just push this aside and move on. I'm not . . . ready — for any of that.” Your eyes softened, as did your tone.
Despite his desperate pleads, you couldn't bring yourself to just forget the whole ordeal and why he was apologizing in the first place. But Sukuna was no better than a man. He had no clue why you felt this way. The only thing he's known in life was to move on. That's what he does and will do. That's why he is the way he is. That's why.
“Do you even want this relationship to last? Can't you see I'm trying to fix this problem?”
“I do, Sukuna. I really do. Couples fight and have arguments. It's normal. It's what we're doing right now. But just because it's normal doesn't mean I'm going to brush it aside as if it didn't happen.”
“Are you out of your—!? Do you have any idea how many girls would like to be in your spot right now? Do you have ANY idea?” By now, Sukuna had completely lost it. He was frustrated, so frustrated. He didn't understand what more you wanted from him.
“I—Sukuna, what?”
“Have you any idea? Any idea at all?”
You would be lying if you said you weren't scared, utterly afraid of the man standing before you right now. For you could see nothing past his eyes, no love, no care, nothing. Only the deep, rich crimson color that you once loved and held so dear to your heart.
“You know what? Good for you. Good for you that you have so many other better options but you chose me. Good. For. You. I guess you don't need me anymore. Goodbye, Sukuna.”
You slammed the door [shut] in Sukuna's face, falling with your back against it seconds later and bringing your knees to your chest. The waterworks started soon after and Sukuna could hear your quiet sobs from beyond the door.
He was dumbfounded, absolutely appalled. Did he really just say that to you? Sukuna knew he was not the brightest, but, damn, he's really done it this time.
Sukuna ran his fingers through his hair, now sitting in his car. He definitely did not mean to say what he said. In fact, he didn't even know how it slipped out. One second he was basically on his knees for you and the next, he . . . wasn't. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? He thought. He continued to sit there, reflecting on his actions and words. But he still couldn't believe it. What the fuck just happened?
He came to your apartment hoping to salvage the remnants of your guys' relationship, but he ended up ruining it — forever. Sukuna was 100% sure this was the worst fuckup in the history of mankind.
But he couldn't just leave it like this. He could still fix this, right? Alas, Sukuna had lost all hope; he lost his mind; and he lost the love of his life.
“Shit,” Sukuna muttered. He had really lost it, he thought, as he walked back to your apartment door. He had really lost it, he thought, when he spared a glance at your apartment number.
I'm going back to 505
That was the whole point of this, right? He was going back — no matter what, right?
When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?
He had really lost it, he thought, when he saw your glossy — yet still absolutely mesmerizing eyes after reluctantly answering the door, waiting for Sukuna to say something, anything. Anything at all. But he didn't. He didn't say anything at all. He had really lost it, he thought, when he pulled you in for the most zealous kiss he had ever experienced that left you gasping for air. His lips slotted against yours, moving fervently simultaneously. Albeit, he pulled away rather quickly — afraid of what he had just done.
I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
Mere seconds after Sukuna pulled back, you moved your hand so quickly — that Sukuna didn't even notice at first — and slapped him. Hard. You slapped him hard as fuck. But then you did something that surprised the pink-haired man even more. You embraced him in a hug, and a tight one at that.
“Hug me back, dumbass.” You quipped.
Or I did last time I checked
“You just slapped me.” He hugged you back, nevertheless, wrapping his arms around your figure. Because, he had to admit, it was kinda hot [getting slapped].
“Duh. ‘Cause you're such a loser.”
A pause of silence occured, before Sukuna spoke up.
“I didn't mean what I said,” Sukuna murmured against your hair. He had longed for this moment. God, you made him so soft sometimes.
“I know.”
“I'm sorry.”
“I know.”
“I missed you.”
“You never stop talking, do you.”
“To you? Never.”
I'm going back to 505
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
With your hands between your thighs and a smile
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius
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mochie85 · 2 days
Text
House of Cards
These Wicked Games Collections | Complete Masterlist
Summary: You and Loki finally confront each other about your feelings and what went wrong. Suggested Song: "Fantasy" by The Driver Era Word Count: 2.9K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Smut. Dominating/Controlling Loki, Angry sex, rough sex.
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Loki’s room was dark and humid. Thick waves of moisture rolled to you from his en suite, bringing with it the scent of his soap and aftershave. He must have taken a shower moments before movie night, you mused to yourself.
As the latch on his door clicked closed, the fireplace roared to life startling you. The heat from the fire only made his scent grow deep and heady. Warm yellow light canvased the room. You followed the flicker of the flames as your eyes took in Loki’s private chambers.
There you were…alone in his room. His sanctuary. A rare opportunity to sneak around and find out more about the intimidating god of mischief. Nothing had changed since that fateful night when you challenged him to Blackjack. That following morning, you were too hurt and busy trying to get out of the mortifying situation you walked yourself into to appreciate anything else.
His desk sat in the middle of the room, facing his bed. A house of cards was meticulously crafted on top— an elaborate pyramid of angles and shapes. Some cards, magically teetering on their corners. You had forgotten your deck that night, in a hurry to leave and lick your wounds from Loki’s casual opinion of your relationship with each other.
You reached out to take one— a discarded card lying on the bottom layer. You focused on the filigree and the cherub on the back cover, greeting you back.
“I thought I told you to wait for me on my bed?” His deep voice froze your movements, squeezing the air from your lungs. You turned quickly to find Loki, already closing the final steps to you.
“Loki, I-” He didn’t let you finish as he seized your lips and invaded your senses once again. His fingers laced themselves in your hair. His other hand pulled your shirt off from behind, popping your buttons, and exposing your breasts that were already spilling over your bra from his groping earlier.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, hoping to melt with him. You needed him closer. You needed his every being to get reacquainted with you. God, it's been so long.
His kiss was never-ending. He didn’t let you catch your breath, stealing your mouth every time you moved to inhale. His lips were so ravenous and demanding that it almost hurt. “…Loki…” you whined.
At long last, his fingers pulled your hair and brought your face up to meet his eyes. “You never do as you’re told, do you, darling? You never listen. Always worried about letting people inside.” His fist in your hair got tighter. His breath was hot and sweet; trying to hold back an emotion you had yet to work out. “Is that why you perfected your poker face? To hide the lies underneath?”
“What lies?!” you asked insulted and slightly afraid. “You lied to me! You used me just to play some game! Toying with me! Just entertainment for the night!” You tried to push him back, but his body was hard and unyielding. You pounded on his chest, trying to get away. But he trapped you in his arms and he wouldn’t let you go.
“You don’t listen! I have already told you, and yet you still pay no heed to my words! Do you even know how the last two weeks have been for me?” he said with a cold glare. “Torture! The moment you walked out of my bed, I started doubting myself. I started doubting you! I never thought you of all people would play me for a game like you do with your cards and tricks.”
He was furious! You had no idea how this would go, where Loki was going with his discourse. You knew Loki would never hurt you intentionally, but the look in his eyes was undoubtedly anger and pain. Not knowing terrified you and it also sent a thrill down your spine.
You had hurt him. You can see that now. He was affected as much as you were that night. You could see it in the unshed glimmer in his eyes. “You do care about me,” you realized.
“And what made you think I didn’t?” he demanded. His hold on you tightened. To be in his arms and to know that he was holding back so much of his godly strength. It hurt to almost breathe in his presence. But that was nothing compared to the guilt you felt inside. It hurt to know that you had assumed the worst of him and failed to communicate what you wanted. That you had missed out on two glorious weeks of being with him.
“You said you liked playing games. The way everything unfolded…I- I didn’t know what to think. I had no idea you even looked at me that way! And in mere hours I was splayed like a toy for you in your bed, Loki! What was I supposed to think?! How was I to know that I wasn’t just another conquest for you? That your confession was true?” you yelled back at him.
“Does this feel untrue to you!” he bucked his hips to yours, pushing you against his desk. You let out a carnal moan as you felt the length of him rub against your awaiting clit- throbbing to feel more of him, to be closer to him. The pyramid shook slightly behind you but remained standing. “Perhaps, you need a little reminder…” he growled as he kissed your lips boldly.
Blurring colors started to form and solidify in your head. Memories took shape as if they were tangible moving pictures.
~Loki growled. His fervor and desire ruling all rational thought. “I love that you’re intelligent,” he said as he flattened out his tongue and lapped the juices flowing from your cunt. “…Loki…” “I love how clever you are.” He said giving your sensitive clit a soft kiss. “I love how you’re willing to play my games.” He laughed as he kissed his way up your stomach. He knelt up on the bed, towering over your lustful figure beneath him. His eyes were wild taking in your heavy breathing, your glowing skin, and how utterly besotted you were when you looked at him. Your eyes were hooded and pleading, missing his tongue. Your mouth was open, ready to beg him to continue. “And by the Norns, you look absolutely sinful laying on my bed the way you are now.” He lined his hard cock at your entrance and slammed his way inside your tight folds.~
You felt him thrust towards your aching cunt, as if he was reliving the memory himself. The heavy force of his illusion pushed you back into reality. The house of cards gave way and fell behind you in one fell swoosh.
“You love me,” you whispered to yourself. Tears brimmed your lids as you looked at the truth in his eyes. The realization was heavy and thick; along with the guilt of invalidating his feelings.
Loki closed his eyes as he leaned in to rest his head on yours. He took a deep breath, relieved you had finally understood what he was trying to convey. Your fingers brushed through his silken hair, pulling him closer. Your lips apologized for you as you assailed his beautiful face with kisses. Softly, one after another. His fervid cheeks. His troubled eyes. His sharp chin. He felt each kiss as a prayer of penance asking for his forgiveness.
Your velvet lips turned into passionate kisses the more you held him. Loki returned your fervor with as much desire, if not more. How long has he waited for this? Dreamt of this? Wondering if he’d ever get the chance to kiss you again like this.
He had already granted you his pardon- earlier tonight when you had confessed that you imagined kissing him instead of Rogers. Perhaps even earlier than that, when you sat down on his lap and acknowledged his presence, finally, after weeks of disaffection. You had his forgiveness, but not his mercy.
“Loki, I need you. Please,” you begged. You started to unbutton his shirt, your fingernails nicking and scratching at his creamy skin in haste. “Make love to me,” you whined, wanting to compensate for lost time.
He licked his lips and savored your words. “Oh no, pet,” he chuckled darkly. “Only good girls get made love to...” Loki pushed your shoulders down, laying you on his desk. Your eyes widened in shock as your hair flowed around you, weaving with the cards of the fallen castle. He pulled your legs forward, bringing your hips flushed with his hard cock. “…Bad girls get fucked!”
You took a sharp intake of air as his words rattled your nerves. You heard the zip of his pants as his hands held you down on his desk. He nudged the wet gusset of your panties aside and guided the tip of his cock at your entrance. You moaned shamelessly when you felt him inside you for the first time in weeks.
He let out a shaky breath as he dragged himself up and down through your wet lips. Slowly teasing you, making you squirm with need. “…please…” you said so quietly you thought it was in your head. “…please, Loki…”
He gave into your cries. Into your begging; and thrust quickly inside you. You let out a vulgar moan at the sheer length of him filling you completely. Your knees squeezed around his hips as you tried to slow his assault. Your nails dug into the soft wood of his desk trying to hold on. “Stop resisting, my love. I thought this was what you wanted?” he grunted.
 Your hands gripped his wrist that was holding down your shoulder. He gathered your skirt around your waist and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into you. “Just a little bit deeper…fuck…When I’m…when I’m done with you…I’ll make sure…you can’t walk in the morning…” he vowed. “So, you won’t leave my bed like you did that day.” His rage was palpable and cloying.
“…Loki…” you whined. But that only made him go harder. Faster.
You held the edge of the desk above you, trying to meet his passionate thrust with your own. Strands of your hair fell off to the sides. Your back arched, and you could feel the cards stick to the sweat of your skin.
“You like this, don’t you? Look how wet you are for me.” He watched as your sweet cum coated his shaft, making him groan. You could feel it dripping from you with each hard thrust of his cock. “Do you like it rough?”
“…fuck, Loki…please…”
“You’re enjoying this too much.” His hand moved from your shoulder up to your throat. He grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, “Next time, I’ll just fuck you in front of the team. So, they can see what a begging mess you become for me.”
And he was right. You are a mess. And you are enjoying this too much. You had always prided yourself in being a tough and independent person. But when it comes to Loki, you didn’t hesitate to be cuffed and barred. You didn’t fight it when he chased you. You wanted him to catch you. You wanted his dominance.
Loki bent to hover over you, pinning your hips down to his hard desk. “You are not to leave me. Ever. Do you understand?” his breath came out labored and grunting. “You can storm out angry. You can yell, scream, and fight. Hell, I prefer it. But you are never to leave without returning and talking about it afterward. Is that clear?” He thrust deep to mark his point. You moaned loudly into the stifling air. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders.
“Say it!” he thrust again, demanding an answer.
“yesyesyes…please Loki…I’m a-about to…” you squeezed tighter around him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.
“Come on then. Give it to me.” He demanded in your ear. You wrapped your ankles around his waist, keeping him locked to you. Loki stood back up, taking your wrist ad holding them down against his desk. You were trapped in between his corded arms. All you could see was the beautiful face of a god unraveling above you. His slanted brows and his gritted teeth, his deep voice grunting at the feel of your warmth around him.
You could feel the tight pull of his shaft against your walls when he dragged himself out and plunged back in. “Fuck baby, that’s it. Tighter. Come on.”
Your legs shook and you screamed his name one last time. Your orgasm pulses inside you, making every single part of you sensitive and euphoric. Loki followed soon after. His hips jutted forward with each grunt and spill of his climax inside you.
Loki bent over you again. He caged your head between his arms and kissed you softly on your swollen lips. Your hands roamed his back, feeling his powerful muscles contort and contract as he moaned above you. Your nails would scratch on his smooth skin whenever his cock twitched inside you. “Loki.”
Without breaking your kiss, he scooped you up from his desk and walked over to his bed. “…such a good girl for me, darling…” he whispered on your skin. “…taking me all in like that. Good fucking girl...” Your throat was hoarse and stung too much to answer anything above a sigh. His plush blankets welcomed you as he laid you down on top. “…and do you know what good girls get?”
You bit your lip to stop from giggling. Loki lined himself up with your entrance once again and pushed slowly. Your giggles turned into moans as he continued his rhythmic thrust against your heat.
“Look at me, darling,” he asked so sweetly. Your furrowed eyes caught his. “I love you,” he murmured. “I should’ve said it from the very beginning.” He continued at a tantric pace, keeping his stare at yours. You tightened around him and you got a more genuine feel for him. Every vein, every inch, pulling your moans from your lips and leaving you with nothing but the sensation of his love and adoration for you.
He looked deep into your eyes, and you could tell that he was close again. “I love you too,” you whispered. Loki let go. At the same time, your body releases itself into a climax. One of the strongest, and most powerful, ones you’ve ever felt.
His body sunk on top of yours. He was finally letting go of the weight and worry that he held these past weeks. And you welcomed it by holding him tighter against you.
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You woke up the next morning, tender and stinging. The tiniest movement of your hips shot an aching soreness throughout your body. And you smiled. Your mind reeled at the memories of last night. After your shared confessions, Loki took you again in the shower, then on the floor, and then in the shower again. He fucked you in every conceivable space in his room. And then he would make love to every inch of your body afterward.
“Can you walk?” his voice was low and gravelly. The dredges of sleep have yet to release him from their grasp.
“Well, good morning to you too.” You playfully pushed him aside, pretending to be insulted. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a morning kiss.
“Good morning, my love…” he said with adoration. “…Can you walk?” he repeated. You rolled your eyes at him, smiling. You knew the answer before you even attempted to sit up and try to get off his bed.
Your hips felt out of place. Your thighs burned and screamed at being used again so soon after last night. And your feet could barely hold you up threatening to slip. “No, I can’t. Are you happy?”
Loki scooped you up making you yelp and grab hold of his shoulders. “Tremendously, so.” He said kissing you heatedly on your lips.
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Nat sat in the conference room, reading Tony’s mission briefing from the night before. The rest of the team returned early last night and decided to join in on the movie. No one had noticed that you and Laufeyson were missing until Thor asked where his brother was. “They were both very tired. I think they might’ve gone to bed early,” Nat smirked.
And now, here she was watching the two of you come out of the bedroom hallways. A sudden giggle escapes from your lips. She looked over the paper and witnessed Laufeyson carrying you into the kitchen bridal style. “Put me down! I can walk now you know,” you whispered into his ear.
“Oh, darling. We both know I’m too good for that to wear off so quickly.”
“You pompous ass!”
“Yes, one that has your scratch marks all over it!” He gave you a quick peck on the lips, followed by his signature devious smirk. Loki pulled out one of the chairs and sat down with you on top of his lap.
Oh, this oughta be good! Nat neglected the rest of her work on the table and made her way over to the two of you. Loki had conjured a muffin and some coffee for you. While you sat on his lap feeding him grapes like he was Dionysus himself.
“You know, when I dared you to sit on his lap, I meant for the length of the movie,” Nat said coming up from behind you and sitting across the table. “Not indefinitely.”
“Your lovely friend here has been incapacitated, Agent Romanoff.” Loki smiled, nuzzling his nose against the smell of his shampoo in your hair. “I’m afraid she’ll need assistance from here on out. For the foreseeable future.”
“Stop it!” you chided him.
“Make me,” he teased.
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⬅️ Truth or Dare | Hide and Seek (Coming Soon) ➡️
A/N: I guess I wasn't ready to let go of these two yet. This series wasn't supposed to have any major angst or plot. It was just supposed to be a collection of these two characters playing random "adult" games. So, I will try to get back to that thought and update whenever I think of something for them to do 😉.
🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine-blog @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish @capswife @dangertoozmanykids101
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mxtantrights · 2 days
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Hi! Can i ask some quick enemies to lovers with Jason Todd? Which is not much "enemies" but two prideful people that won't admit they have feelings for each other and they like... have similar personalities. It can be sfw or nsfw, it's up to you <3
Byee, thanks.
(Maybe reader also being a vigilante too hehe)
a/n: thank you for this amazing request. I was about to have so much fun with this!!! (also kinda left it open so if there is a desire for part two, just leave me a message!! <3)
It doesn't hit either of you like a brick wall or a train like it should. No. Because why would it? Love doesn't hit you over the head in the middle of the night. It happens slowly.
It happens when Oliver asks you to cut home early because you almost missed a step and went over the rooftop of a building. Which you deny but you know it happened because Oliver is never really one to say 'go home'. So you take his orders. Oliver shakes his head as he watches you go. Ever since he told you that some of the team from Gotham was coming to Star City to help a case you've ben off your game.
It happens when Jason doesn't see the trip wire. Dick has about seven seconds to clear the room and drag Jason with him. The two of them get safely away from the loud bomb. Bruce is talking over the comms, asking if everything is alright. Jason grumbles out some sort of response. Dick knows he's not on his A-game because he's part of the crew going to Star City, where you operate.
It happens when you come face to face with Red hood after not seeing him for a few months. The last time you saw him he saved you from a round of gunfire. You couldn't figure out if he saved you because it was the right thing to do or for some other reason.
It happens when the two of you have to guard a safe house for a couple of hours. There is nothing to do. It's mindless boredom. It's endless. It's so boring and Red doesn't make it easier because he doesn't try to converse with you either. You try to make small talk but he seems to talk in grunts or just silence.
It happens when the mission goes wrong. The informant is nipped on someone else's patrol. You and Red are called in to figure out who did it and to track their every move. You spend about eight hours by his side and say about ten words to him.
It happens when you two find the culprit and are faced with a difficult decision. Take justice into your own hands or hand them over to the Oliver and Bruce. Red leaves it up to you.
And for some odd reason, that's when you realize it. At that moment it dawns on you. Like the final crumb of sand falling in a hourglass. You like Red. You like him even if he doesn't speak a word to you, or if you fail and fumble in front of him.
You try your best to keep it to yourself.
But it's hard to do that when he seems, different.
After that night when he left the choice up to you, he seems to be another version of himself. A version you didn't know existed. He greets you, he tries to make small talk, and he gives you compliments and praise.
Oliver and Bruce notice it too. They keep their smiles and shit eating grins to themselves. Honestly the two of them honestly make this a thing amongst themselves. Who can get the ball rolling first?
Bruce asks Jason about it one night after patrol. To which Jason replies with a stern 'no' and nothing else. Oliver asks you when he takes you out for lunch and you also tell him a simple 'no' and move on.
It keeps happening like this. Red does something that makes you think maybe, sort of, possibly. But you don't take that step. And Red goes through the same thing about you. And talks himself out of telling you anything.
One day though, it does come to an end.
You're in an alley in Gotham. You're not on a mission. You're just a civilian in this situation. A civilian who wants to take an alleyway cut instead of walking two blocks. It's safe to say that when you get held up at gun point you regret not walking those two simple blocks.
What goes down, goes down fast. You manage to get the jump on two of the scumbags. But one of them does have a gun. They aim it right at you and the shot should hit you but it doesn't. It doesn't because of someone.
Red hood stands between you and the gun. The bullet flies off his patted amor chest. You watch as all the guys in the alleyway scurry like rats. You're left there, wide eyed and shocked.
Red Hood turns to you and offers you a hand up. You take it, and try to think of something to say. Anything. A thank you. A sorry. Something that should leave your mouth. But all you can think about is how he's saved your life again.
And that's the word you say. 'again'
It catches him off guard. So much so that he takes a step back. You think you might've said the wrong thing. But then again, you think to yourself that he won't really know what you're talking about. You're seeing him as a civilian. He's never seen you as a civilian. He doesn't know who you are.
But he could now.
He could now.
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comradekatara · 1 day
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Genuinely asking—what changes would you make to the adult gaang designs? :)
this is such a fun question thank u for enabling me. i mean i draw them as adults sometimes so also check out my /oldergaang tag if u want visuals (altho i also change my designs a lot because my art is nothing if not inconsistent) but if i was just going with like standard character designs like if i could redesign that hideous “old friends” poster for example…
aang: get rid of that fucking. chinstrap. don’t give him white man features because what the hell is that. and let him wear his off the shoulder monk robes from book 3 because he was slaying with that fit. actually the way aang is drawn in imbalance is basically perfect i would retain that design into adulthood. thank u peter wartman for all that u do….
katara: i don’t mind the older katara design (from the little we see of it) but it’s also not nearly as cunty and slayful as i would like. katara is genuinely interested in fashion and loves experimenting with clothes and hair and makeup, i refuse to believe that as she ages and has more resources to tailor her style to her own personal tastes she wouldn’t get a little funky with it. like she kind of just looks boring and uninspired in her older design, and that’s unacceptable to me because she should be hot. adult katara should be the hottest woman you have ever seen in your life. and she should be buff, also. shredded, even.
toph: any signifiers of copness are obviously unacceptable to me. but even more that than, it’s very important to me that older toph is distinctly butch. i think she would cut her hair the second she realizes that there is no reconciliation to be found with her parents and that there is no reason to adhere to those confucian values. and she would wear a lot of sleeveless outfits (sort of like the shirt korra wears in “korra alone”) to show off her biceps and also space bracelet (spacelet) that is her prized possession forever. and she’s just kind of a hot hippie butch legend . period.
zuko: in the old friends poster he literally looks like a lizard so just like. no. wtf. and i like his long hair in theory but i don’t like that it’s styled after ozai and not ursa, i think his hair would be shwoopier and frame his face more. and his robes should be less spiky and militaristic and more designed for comfort because that’s what makes him feel most like his true authentic self and he deserves that. also weird for a guy who is trying to demilitarize the fire nation to wear an armor-adjacent type of outfit. so mainly he’d just look softer and more like his mom.
sokka: i hate buff goatee whitewashed sokka that is some kind of demon. lok did so little with him and yet said so much (all of it egregiously wrong, ofc). sokka would be fairly tall (although not as tall as aang) and have defined muscle but in a sinewy, lanky way. and despite always having enough to eat he’d still look somewhat malnourished just because he’s constantly overworked and exhausted and never takes care of himself. and his ponytail would be longer but he’d still shave the sides. and the older he gets the darker his clothes get until he basically just wears black all the time because at some point he realizes that it’s more advantageous to remain culturally ambiguous if he’s gonna be a cosmopolitan. and he wears glasses (which were a gift from kuei). and sometimes he uses a cane because he didn’t sufficiently take care of his broken leg after the war ended and now he’s paying the price for it. and his cane has a blade inside too, but he rarely ever even pulls out the blade because he can incapacitate someone with just a wooden stick anyway. so he looks like if a nerd was a shadow was about to collapse at any given moment was secretly ruling the entire world. and he’s not in any sort of front-facing position of power whatsoever but he’s actually pulling all the strings from behind the scenes, and it’s exhausting. his eyebags are visible from outer space.
suki: i don’t even think there is a “canon” adult suki character design besides her in her kyoshi warrior armor and makeup but to me casual suki just starts dressing more like sokka. like the loose baggy sleeveless shirts (except in a lighter shade of blue bc kyoshi island colors) and tight pants and boots. it’s a very dykey look already and they’re basically girlfriend twins so their styles would merge even more than it already has within the show itself. like sometimes people think that sokka and suki are siblings because they dress so similarly and give off such a similar vibe and they’re just like “but we’re literally different ethnicities??? and also we are currently making out????”
okay bonus round bc i can’t just neglect them
azula: she cuts her hair really short and as an adult leaves it to shoulder length for the most part because that’s more comfortable for her. like zuko, she also starts dressing for comfort, and for a period in her late teens stops wearing makeup altogether. she gets back into wearing makeup as an adult, but she stops caring about whether or not she leaves the house with lipstick on, and it becomes more about the process for her than the result. she’s comfy and cute and dykey.
mai: sokka is her lesbian style icon so after her first haircut that was inspired by toph’s haircut to piss off her parents, she gets an undercut and starts wearing her hair in a ponytail like sokka. as she gets older she also gets more confident in her body and doesn’t feel like she needs to wear baggy long-sleeved clothing at all times or she’ll die. and she isn’t rail thin as an adult either because she starts letting herself eat more than a single grain of rice at a time. also, she gets a sword.
ty lee: she becomes a kyoshi warrior so she starts incorporating more blues and greens into her wardrobe, but also more oranges and yellows after she embraces her air nomad heritage. and she just dresses very colorfully and has a vast rotation of different cute little outfits. and i think she’d also experiment with different hairstyles once she has the freedom to define herself outside of the aesthetics expected of her. she looks beautiful always
haru: he finally shaves that thang
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orangelala · 2 days
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ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ
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chris sturniolo x reader
summary: you both started off as friends, becoming even closer, and now that chris has finally gotten over his commitment issues with the impact you've made on his life he's sure he wants no one else. what happens when the feeling isn't mutual, or is it?
warnings: angst, some fluff? swearing, pet names (love,ma)
a/n: we are locked in on series time. part two will be out soon!
word count: 1.9k words
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ
"i've seen the way he looks at you." she ran the brush through my hair. "it's not in a friend way either."
she was wrong, but it didn't stop my pulse from spiking with anticipation. "how does he look at me?"
fiona smiled. "like he never wants to look away."
"what is that supposed to mean?" "it means he loves you, its so obvious. how could you be so blind?" "if you mean in a friend way, then yes, yes he does" fiona sigh turning me around in the chair. "how long have we been friends?" "since kindergarten" "exactly. i know you better than anyone. preferably better than you know yourself. which means i know you feel the same"
fiona smiles once more before turning me around and grabbing the brush to help do my hair now. as if the discussion was over but was she right? was he really looking at me in a special way? did he actually loved me more than a friend?
she finally finishes up my hair and i put on my outfit for the day. as i walk to my car and get in to drive to the triplets house, i couldn't help but think about what she said. "like he never wants to look away" "like he never wants to look away" what the hell did that even mean? as much as i trust my bestfriend, i feel like she could be wrong about this.
as i reach their house, i gather my purse and some other things stepping out and walking up to the house. knocking on the door, im immediately greeted by nick pulling me into a hug. "hey girl, how are you doing?" "im good nick, and you?" "im great, chris is downstairs, by the way" "how are you sure im not here to see you?" i say catching up to him as he walked to the kitchen.
"so you're here to see me?"nick says putting his hand on his hip giving me a confused look. "yes, ive missed you" bringing him into a hug. "well ive missed you too kid" he says hugging me back. "how was your morning?" "it was okay but nick, you wouldn't believe what fiona had said-" "hey kid, why didn't you tell me you were here?" chris says cutting me off.
"well i was talking to nick, im not just bestfriends with you" i say sarcastically stepping back towards nick. "yeah chris, she's best friends with all of us, if she wants to hang with us because she's tired of you, she can" i couldn't help but burst into laughing from nicks comment. making nick chime in, as i catch my breath i look up and notice chris rolling his eyes.
"well if she's not 'too tired of me' i'd like to steal her for a moment, if that's okay with you" he says looking at nick for what looks like an approval. "go ahead. i'll be right here girl if you need me" nick says pointing at me as well walk away. "i'll keep that in mind, thank you bae!"
"you're not really tired of me are you?" he says opening the door to his bedroom. "of course not, nick was just saying to mess with you. i never get tired of you" i say bringing him into a hug. i felt him smile against me as he hugged me back tight.
"chris?" "yes love?" he says pulling away. "i don't want to interfere in your personal business-" "your my bestfriend, you never interfere. i tell you everything" he smiles, as he reassures me as he could tell the uncomfortableness on my face.
"do you like anyone?" i say startling myself, i didn't mean to say it so quickly. i watch chris's facial expression change. "i was with fiona, and fiona had said" "what did she say?" "well she said you looked at me um in a certain way"
i look away towards the door as i try to comprehend what was going on, was i really about to do this right now? i was taken out of my thoughts as chris takes his hand and moves my head to look at him.
"what type of way is that? he smirks. "in a way that uh, you like me?" "and?" "and well chris is it truth?" i say looking down at my hands. "if it is?"
"chris" i whispered. "your my best friend." "i know what i am," he says against my skin. "what would that, what would that even look like?" "what would what look like?" "oh my god chris, us. fuck. you know us" "so you like me back?" "i never said that, i asked a question"
"what would it be like? what would 'us' even look like? i whisper into again him. "i can show you exactly what it would be like."
i felt him fisting the fabric of my shirt, as if he was stopping himself from doing more. then releasing it and placing his palm to my waist.
"if you were really mine, i'd do this all the time." his long fingers draped around my hip and pushed me against him from the waist down. hot. he felt so hot and hard, branding my skin, even with layers of fabric separating us.
"if you were mine, you'd crave this." he then closed the rest of the distance that separated us very slowly. bringing our bodies flush together with such softness and at such a painful pace that i praised and cursed him at the same time. "you would want it."
but wasn't i doing that?
before i could delve into that, chris's large body shifted, and my back was against a hard surface. he looked at me quite intensely as if he was trying to read me. read my facial expressions but my mind went blank, making my whole body go blank. most importantly my heart.
what am i doing? what was i doing was all that was going through my head. he leans into me, running his hand over my cheek before pulling me into him, closing the space between us completely. i wanted to move. i needed to get out of here, but why was i feeling so safe. why did i feel happy under his touch?
chris places his other hand around my waist before fully bringing his face near mine. his lips were just centimeters away from mine. pulling me in with his hand. our lips had barely grazed. "im sorry, but i can't. im sorry" i say pulling away and grabbing my things.
"wait- what? don't go." "im so sorry, chris," i say choked as tears begin to run down my face. he had looked at me in confusion. it was only seconds later to a minute was how quickly i got out of there.
sprinting in the direction of my car as i walk out the house. i sit for a minute to catch my breath before placing the key in the ignition and starting up the car. it felt as if i could hear his voice around me, i could still see that expression. it was killing. the look he gave me. that look that was pastured on his face when i walked out.
i had finally reach my apartment making me sigh in relief. quickly getting out of car and walking up to my apartment, i couldn't get myself to put the key in the door and step in. i wasn't expecting to come home tonight. let alone be alone.
i stand there, placing a hand on the door before taking a deep breath and turning the key to let myself in. i was the one who did it. he didn't walk out on me, i walked out on him but yet why does it hurt so much.
placing my stuff on the table, i walk in the direction of my room. grabbing some fresh clothing. i couldn't be in his clothes anymore, running my fingers along the end of the shirt and almost staring at it as it reminded me of time he gave it to me. i quickly stopped the flashback that was about to occur as quickly pull it over my head and toss it to the side, along with my shorts.
i walk into the connecting bathroom to turn on the shower, stepping away and looking in the mirror to run my fingers over my cheek, where he ran his fingers over and moved down to my waist. running my hand over the spot repeatedly as if i was still trying to feel his touch.
i felt desperate, needy. craving his touch again. but i know getting out of there was something i needed to do to protect myself. why did it have to be from him? i had no idea but now catching myself in train of thought, i turn around and fully strip my underwear and bra and walk in.
i didn't really remember getting out of the shower and laying down. it had been about an hour later, as i have fidgeted through my sheets. tossing and turning but nothing had seemed to work. there was one thing and one thing only that ran through my mind. that almost kiss and him.
my phone screen lit up my dark room, making me roll over and hesitantly grab the phone. there were multiple missed calls and messages from him.
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about to play the first message, i exit out the app and throw the phone on the floor. standing up to catch my breath and placing in my room i hear the door. what seemed like a faint knock only for it to be a bit louder. wiping my eyes, i walk out of my room and towards the front door.
"who is it?" i say clearing my throat as i start to unlock and open the door. "yes? how can i help you- chris?" i say in a very hushed tone. "what are you doing here?" "i wanted to see you, why did you leave? was it something i did?"
"chris, you shouldn't be here" "i know but i want to know why you left, did i make you uncomfortable?" i shoved my hands in my pajama pockets as i take a step back making chris step towards me. "chris please" i beg, as i feel everything inside me tear apart.
"just answer my question please and i'll go. i promise, i just need to know" he said in an almost whisper that rang around my head.
my hands stayed in my pockets; his were at his sides. we weren't touching, not really. i had the sudden, sharp memory of the way his fingers had brushed against mine a few hours before. he bent his face down to my shoulder, his breath slipping through three layers of cloth to warm the skin there.
one of his fingers hooked at the strings of my pajamas and inched me just that tiny bit closer. his nose skimmed up my throat, along my cheek, and i saw none of it. i squeezed my eyes shut as his forehead finally came to rest against mine.
"look at me."
"don't do this," i whispered.
"i don't know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "i feel like, i feel like i'm losing my damn mind, like your face has been carved into my heart, and i don't remember when, and i don't understand why, but the scar is there, and i can't get it to heal. it won't go. i can't make it fade. and you won't even look at me."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
tags: @nicksmainbitch @sturniolossss @sturnlova @its-jennarose @freshsturns @luverboychris @canthelpit0 @ghostlypineappl @sturnzsblog @sluttformatt @urfavstromboli @junnniiieee07 @drpepperworshipper @ksturniolo7 @samandcolbyfan22 @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @h3arts4harry @patscorner @iluvmattyb @mattslovelygf @blahbel668 @mattscoquette @wh0resstuff @crack240
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Bonding time with new wife
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alexalbon replied to your story
I didn't agree to this!
Jealous much? 😏
lilymhe replied to your story
Put your best dress on, we're going clubbing!
My legs are still killing me, woman..
That's the effect I have 😉
When Y/N agreed to hit the clubs with Lily she didn't picture the whole group to be there. Alex was the one to drive them there and when she got in the car she was met with an excited Lily, and quiet flirty Lando. They met before at the concert where George and Carmen were too. They all met up at the club and slowly Y/N let the music calm her nerves. She was a free woman and this was her comfort place.
They all quickly accepted her in their group like she belonged there, like they knew her for years. And suddenly she wondered why it never happened before. Why her ex never made any attempts at introducing her to this amazing people.
"Y/N! Come dance with us!" Carmen grabbed her hand pulling the girl behind herself and Lily. The boys stayed back looking over their drinks, while the girls had fun on the dancefloor.
"Girl, there's so many people looking at you." Lily giggled into her ear. They glanced around and Y/N could see few of her band's fans around the dancefloor. She smiled lightly trying to look welcoming enough to approach. She loved talking to their fans.
Her eyes scan the club again and her smile fades slowly. There, at the bar she can see him. His eyes on her already, the drink in his hand forgotten. She can see his body slowly turning her way and in a moment of panic she excuses herself to the bathroom.
She pushed through the crowd blindly. Hoping to loose him in the sea of body's and escape where he can't reach her. She was having fun, she was feeling good and here he was, ruining it again.
Some girls leave the bathroom when she comes in panting lightly. Y/N leans her body over the sink trying to calm her breath. Someone comes out the stall and stands next to her. She doesn't look up until the perfume hit her. Her body tenses and when she snaps her gaze to the girl beside, it's her.
"Hi." The girl smiles unsure of the situation. Of course she knows who Y/N is. And Y/N knows who's standing beside her. It seems she ran away from one nightmare to step right into hell.
"Fuck off." She grumbles but before she can escape again the girl speaks up again.
"What is wrong with you?" She shouts making Y/N turn around with a glare.
"How dare you?! You're asking me what's wrong with me, when you're the one that fucked up my relationship?!" She explodes with the anger and hatred she feels toward the girl that crushed her dreams.
"You weren't together!" The response makes Y/N stumble back in disbelief. They weren't? That's what she thought? Is that what he said?
"Wow.. I hope he breaks your heart the same way he did mine. Maybe then you'll learn how much of a jerk he truly is." Y/N shakes her head walking out. She bumps into him just outside the bathroom and she can tell the angry spark that light up his eyes. But before he can utter a word she's in the crowd, back to her friends, back to drinks and music.
She forgets herself in the beat. Her body flows with the music and soon she's laughing with the group. She dances with the girls and then she's paired with Lando while the pairs dance together. And she's feeling good. She's feeling hot with the way his eyes burn her skin, but this time she enjoys the warmth.
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honeybcj · 10 hours
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@jegulus-microfic april 19th | class | 764 words | nsfw (cw: undisclosed age gap [student teacher dynamic], edging, spit kink, minor daddy kink)
It’s not James’ fault. How could it have been? Ever since that first day when Regulus walked inside his lecture hall, it was a done deal. He had shown up in a godforsaken silk blouse, the top two buttons underdone to reveal the delectable curve of his collarbone. And the pants—don’t get James started on the pants. They hugged the curve of his ass; an ass that deserves to be worshiped.
There had never been anyone that made James question everything before, but then Regulus had to be in his class and all cares about professionalism and teacher and student dynamics flew out the window.
The lines blurred—fast. Regulus would stay behind or cast him these looks mid-lecture. It was enough to make James' brain short circuit. Much in the sense to how his brain was barely functioning right now, courtesy of Regulus on his knees with his lips wrapped around James’ cock.
It’s office hours, but no one ever comes. That always meant a challenge, one that Regulus definitely didn’t want to back down on. And how could James say no? Especially when Regulus looked up at him so prettily.
“Regulus, baby,” James groans, trying his best to stay quiet. He fists the hair on the back of Regulus’ head, tugging gently at the curls.
Regulus simply hums around his cock, slipping him further until the head is nudging against the back of his throat.
It’s wrong, but everything feels so right as James sits back in his office chair, knees splayed apart for Regulus to kneel between. And God—it is one of the prettiest sights James has ever seen. He’s close—has been for a minute, but every time he’s there, Regulus teases him by pulling off with a wet pop and squeezing the base of his cock. Much like he’s doing right now.
“Don’t you like it when my mouth is being put to good use, Professor Potter?” Regulus blinks innocently, lips swollen and slick with spit and precum.
James rolls his eyes, pushing Regulus’ head down in an attempt to get him to do something. “I have class soon, baby. Really soon.”
Regulus’ lips curl up into a taunting smile, head cocked to the side like a challenge is being presented to him. In the blink of an eye, Regulus is no longer kneeling before him. Instead, he’s perched on the edge of James’ desk, watching him with playful eyes.
“Since you want to play that game, daddy,” Regulus says, which only makes James groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “I’ll let you go to class just like that.”
“Reg, baby—”
Regulus tuts, shaking his head. “Go to class. I just know everyone wants to get a good look at the professor.”
James sighs, defeated, as he tries to tug up his pants. He knows better than to argue with Regulus on the matter, no matter how hard he is trapped into the confines of his trousers. Despite this, James still manages to push up from his chair, shifting himself in his pants.
His hand takes purchase on Regulus’ chin, tilting his head back, so James is looking down at him. He’s met with a grin from Regulus, who then sticks out his tongue. He knows. James might be a little predictable, but god does it do something to the already noticeable problem in his pants.
“Good boy,” James murmurs before leaning down and letting a trail of spit drop from his mouth onto Regulus’ awaiting tongue.
The moan that leaves Regulus’ mouth is like music to James’ ears. He watches carefully as Regulus swallows, paying close attention to how his throat bobs.
“Think of your grandmother. Think of your grandmother,” James mumbles under his breath, which only makes Regulus giggle, kicking the toe of his boot at James’ knee.
“Alright, old man,” Regulus teases, licking over his lips. “Get to class, and I’ll be waiting right here for when you get back.”
James huffs, cupping Regulus’ cheeks in his hands and presses a deep kiss to his mouth. It takes everything in James not to carry on the moment, but Regulus is right, students are waiting for him. Good thing though, because Regulus pushes him off with expert hands, tugging his lower lip between his teeth.
“Go on, daddy,” Regulus murmurs. “I’ll be waiting.”
“You better.” James tucks a loose curl behind Regulus’ ear before picking up his bag.
“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”
James rolls his eyes again, willing the tightness in his pants to disappear. It was going to be a long lecture.
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