Summary: You and Layla enjoy your honeymoon the way honeymoons are meant to be enjoyed.
Pairing: Layla El-Faouly x f!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: wlw, smut 18+ only, fingering (Layla receiving), porn with like a sprinkle of plot, bad smut most likely you've been warned
A/N: Had this in the works for a few months but here it is! If you enjoyed it you have @pennyserenade to thank for it because she gave me the final push to finish this.
Ever since you’d slipped your ring onto Layla’s hand, you’ve gone a little feral. There’s barely been a moment you’ve spent outside your room, though Florence glitters in the hot sun like a jewelled labyrinth, waiting to be explored.
You suppose that honeymoons were never really meant for tourism anyways.
You can’t really look at Layla without a primal little sprout growing in your chest, a curl of possessiveness that shuts off all other thoughts except for ‘mine’.
Mine.
Gods, you want to bite her, to swallow her whole. You have bitten her, the evidence clear on her skin, and she has done the same to you in turn.
Though this is anything but the first time you’ve had her in bed, screaming until her voice is hoarse, it’s the first time that it’s felt like this. Each brush of her skin against yours, the fan of the sounds spilling from her plush lips raise wave after wave of desire in you in ways you’ve never experienced before.
One look, one kiss, one glance at her ring and you find yourself pressing her down into the sheets, and wrapping your hand around her throat, determined to see what kind of noises you can coax out of her this time.
She seems to only egg you further, asking for more, more, harder and faster, until she’s quivering. Until her legs are gooey and mushy and there’s a sheen of sweat on her chest that you’ll be depraved enough to lick it away, bite down and make her whine from the overstimulation and the pain.
This time had started innocently.
In the bathtub, her back pressed to your chest, you found your hand wandering, trying to clean away the traces of sex from her skin with the tepid, sudsy water. You had worked at her shoulders, tried to loosen the tension knotted into them.
It really had been innocent, a well-needed break for the both of you to rest and eat before the next rounds.
It would have been innocent had you been with anyone else but Layla.
And then she had to go and moan in that delightful way that she did.
The water only came about halfway up to her stomach, her chest bare and exposed, golden skin even more golden in the low light of the washroom.
Her pussy shimmered for you from underneath the bubbles on the surface of the water.
You’d abruptly changed course, fingers on her nipples, playing with them until they hardened over for you. Her body always responded to your touch as easily as if it was the only thing she knew how to do.
Layla had asked you what you thought you were doing and you’d shushed, pressing your lips against her neck and taking in the smell of her. On instinct you’d nipped at the skin, soothed the spot over seconds later with your mouth.
When she hadn’t complained and only moaned in earnest this time, her back arching sharply for you, you’d gotten out of the water to lay down a towel on the ground and all you’d seen after that was the red hot colour of the ember of lust.
You’re manhandling her, her body soaking the towel underneath her, the cold grip of her ring against your hip driving you up the walls.
In seconds you have yourself hovering over her cunt. You press down and the softness of her wet flesh against yours makes you cry out, dizzy and disoriented for a couple of seconds.
The hardened nub of her clit brushes yours, and you come to. There’s a fucked out look in her eyes and that makes you want to bite her.
With another press of your hips, you lean forward, follow the line of her throat with your nose and decide where you want to sink your teeth in now.
There are no other thoughts running inside your head except for mine, mine, mine.
Building up a steady rhythm, you choose the soft skin about her collarbone, before biting her just on the other side of harsh. The sound she makes goes straight to your head, a heady combination of a cry and a moan. Letting go, you soothe the spot over with your tongue, though a depraved piece of you wanted to keep on the grip you had on her skin and tear off a piece for yourself.
Your hand goes underneath her lower thigh and you hike her leg up, moving her around the way you please. The angle switch for her seems to do it all. She moans and cries out for you, a gentle tremble starting to grow in the muscles of her leg like the beginnings of an earthquake.
Her reaction to such a small change is so intense and natural that it makes you laugh gently, “You like that, Layla?”
She groans. “Fuck, baby.”
You start to arch your back further before each time you grind down onto her pussy to get better leverage. The mixture of your arousals drips everywhere and gets stirred in with the bathwater on your bodies. Yours and Layla’s thighs are wet and soaked. There’s the faint, wet click each time your hips meet hers and it’s music to the sounds she’s making underneath you.
The humidity in Italy has done wonders to her hair, and it splays out underneath her and makes her look like an angel.
Moving your hips in circles, you raise an eyebrow at her teasingly, “You want a finger, baby?”
Her eyes open only to see if you’re in earnest or only teasing her in the way you’re often fond of at home, keeping her tethering on the edge for hours at a time, coming up behind her and kissing her neck and making her soak through her jeans. She nods frantically, her hips coming up to meet yours with each thrust of yours.
Pressing two of your fingers in her mouth, she starts to suck at them. You circle her tongue with your fingers and she moans again, muffled, and you can feel the vibrations of it through your hand. You continue your rhythm against her cunt and her chest arches up for you. You move her leg to rest on your waist before you take her breast in your hand and just hold it for now.
Taking your fingers out of her mouth, you reach behind you and run them through her folds. Lust is so strong with you that you marvel at the control you have over yourself to be able to play her body so well and leave her at a loss for words.
You press inside her easily, and her pussy sucks you in almost instantly, barely letting you move your hand and fuck her.
You slow down your hips to move measured and deep presses against her cunt, in time with your fingers as you move them slowly in and out of her.
You remember the first time you slept with Layla. The olive slip dress she’d worn through the dinner all through the night, the way she was so clearly not wearing a bra underneath. The way her legs went on for miles with the heels she was wearing.
She had walked you back to her place and you’d invited her in for another drink, which she never did get, but she did get to be pressed up against the wall with the wine rack against it. She had sighed and moaned and wrapped her leg around your waist because her dress also had a delightful little slit in it that you could slip into and trace up her inner thigh to run through the dark curls between her legs.
Right there against the wall, you had rubbed her clit over and over in a teasing, come-and-go pattern that her shaking as she gripped onto you for dear life as she came.
That was when you knew how much fun you could have with Layla.
Then she’d pressed you back onto bed and licked at your core until she made you come three times and then she’d moved you into much the same position you have her in now and rubbed her cunt against yours until she was crying out in pleasure and gripping onto your forearm for dear life.
The next morning, you’d woken her up and repaid the favour and didn’t let her leave your bed until well-past noon, rolling around until the sheets had fallen onto the floor. You’d pressed her up against the door to your apartment and only let her go after she made you promise that you would come over the next evening and let her make you dinner.
Right now, she’s starting to cry out in the way that lets you know that she’s close. Your thoughts have aroused you so much that you know that simply seeing her release will push you over yours.
You push in a third finger and her pussy squelches for you. The sound makes you break out into a trilling laugh, you want to touch the towel underneath her and see how wet it’s gotten from just her arousal, “Gods, Layla.”
Building up a quicker pace with your hand and hips, you roll the pebble of her nipple between her fingers until she’s breaking out into short pulses of moans and cries. She comes with a scream of your name and a sharp arch of her back.
As you had expected, the marvellous sight in front of you of a goddess drowned in pleasure, pleasure you’ve given her, pleasure you only will give her from now on because she’s your wife, sends you into a white hot release, your palm on her breast, your grip firm.
Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.
Masterlist here.
Miguel probably laughs at you lowly while you’re crying on his cock, begging to come. Maybe he makes you sit on it, inch by inch because he’s so big that he can’t just push his way in, making you whimper when he hits your cervix while you drip all over his thighs.
Maybe he takes you from behind, and right after hearing you sniffle into the sheets where you were being pummelled into, he lifts you up by the nape of your neck. His sharp teeth bared at your skin as he asks you to tell him how it feels, his large hand pressing on the bulge where he can feel himself inside you.
Not touching you where you need him to, but resting his fingers there and waiting for you to respond to him when he asks, “feels good, yeah? Tell me, baby, need you to tell me. Then I’ll let you come, I promise,” and the pin prick feeling of his fangs starting to sink in has you coming undone anyway
YOU SLEEP IN THE GUEST BEDROOM AFTER AN ARGUMENT — JUJUTSU KAISEN
feat : gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, geto suguru + nanami kento
ღ warnings — the aftermath of an argument but it’s all fluff, gojo being gojo >.<
ღ note — a lil bit of comfort for you guys with my favourite babies <3
・✶ 。゚GOJO SATORU
you groan when you feel yourself being shaken awake, squinting to allow your eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room—only to be met with a very sleepy satoru looking back at you. his crystalline eyes are a little darker underneath than usual, his hair messier from the endless tossing and turning it feels like he’s done, but his palm is still warm when it rests against your cheek. “morning, how ‘bout you come back to bed, angel, yeah? sleeping so pretty without me, you’re breaking my heart here.” satoru murmurs, his voice raspy and low with sleep and you can’t help but nod at his request when you feel his thumb graze along your cheek soothingly. feeling his arms wrap around you as he gathers you in his arms and guides you back to your shared bed, pressing you tightly against his chest while leaving a few soft kisses against your temple. satoru’s still gentle when he places you down, but there’s a lazy grin on his lips when he’s climbing in next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, his voice smooth as his lips move against the skin of your neck “i know you’re gonna say i’m annoying, but you put up with me so well, baby—and you’re kinda hot when you’re mad.”
・✶ 。゚ITADORI YUUJI
itadori blinks at you from his place stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom, his pillow held tightly against his chest as he sniffles, tiptoeing over to your sleeping figure. there’s a wobbly smile on his lips as he gazes down at your peacefully sleeping expression, and he doesn’t hesitate to lift the blanket over you in favour of sliding in next to you. the sudden but familiar warmth causes you to shake wake when you feel his arms pull you against his chest. “yuuji?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes to look at your boyfriend and you watch him pout down at you. “i-i’m sorry, i love you so much.” yuuji breathes, his words a little broken as he exhales shakily, his cheeks still a little damp with tears—he hated arguing with you. but your touch alone soothes him when your hand rests against his broad chest, a comforting silence settling in the room before he speaks again, voice a little steadier this time “we’ll be okay right?” he asks and you soften before you reply “always.”
・✶ 。゚FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
megumi lay awake as he let his words from earlier swim through his head, still expecting you to join him in bed after everything, giving him an opportunity to apologise—but when you don’t, he can’t help but look for you. he knows where you’ll be, but he doesn’t expect to find you in the guest bedroom with damp cheeks and slightly swollen features—the sight weighing heavily on his heart as he blinks down at you, smoothing his thumb along your cheek soothingly. megumi’s touch is chaste but enough to wake you and he exhales shakily when you blink up at him, your eyes still puffy. “gumi?” you whimper and the familiar nickname has hope warming his chest as he kneels down beside you. “i, i just didn’t want you getting cold. do you wanna come back to bed?” megumi breathes, his features soft while a pout sits subtly on his lips and you can’t help but melt when he sends you a gentle smile, his sleepy face framed by his messy dark hair. his hand resting over your own. “we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
・✶ 。゚ GETO SUGURU
you were still awake when you heard a noise from beside the guest bed, nuzzling deeper into the pillow as you squeeze your eyes closed—already missing the familiar warmth of your boyfriend around you. you jolt when you suddenly feel something smooth over your arm, turning to be met with a very sleepy looking suguru as he pouts down at you, his eyes narrowed and heavy with sleep as he crawls in next to you. “relax, pretty. you really think i’d let you go to sleep upset?” he drawls, turning on his side to blink at you before his hand rests against your waist—cautiously, not wanting to make you uncomfortable incase you were still mad. you shuffle closer, giving suguru a nod before he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist and its tighter than usual, hearing him sigh against your skin when he finally relaxes, until he’s pulling back to pull you in for a quick kiss. “hate seeing you sad, baby. turns out i can’t sleep without you either.. we’ll talk tomorrow, alright?”
・✶ 。゚NANAMI KENTO
you’d been trying to sleep for so long so you were already frustrated when you felt yourself being shaken awake gently, blinking the haziness of sleep from your eyes to be met with an equally tired looking nanami as he leans over you. he’d never wanted to let you leave the room but he knew you needed the time alone before he looked for you. “what’re you doing?” you murmur, sitting up slightly and you hear your boyfriend grumble in response, his voice deep as the sound rumbles through his chest “i wont stay if you don’t want me to, sweetheart. just making sure you’re alright is all.” nanami mumbles, returning to tucking the extra blankets he brought from your bedroom around you until you’re securely wrapped, already feeling a lot cosier when he blinks down at you—the lack of sleep visible on his features even in the dim lighting of the room. but despite everything you don’t hesitate to reach for him when he turns to leave, watching him turn with the ghost of a frown on his features “stay” and then you watch it soften before a soft, relieved smile twitches at the corner of his lips.
© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
spider kidz :P
i wanted to write something nasty but it ended up being quite sweet, don't blame me i just need love
⠀ૈ☆ ex-husband nanami x fem!reader
𓏲 ࣪₊♡ tw: [n]sfw, breeding kink, jealousy, possessiveness, fluffy ending
it only took one look, just one look across the room full of guests to reignite something that had never really been extinguished.
nanami's grip around his glass of wine got a little tighter, his eyes flashing at you and his heart starting to beat fast.
he became more muscular since your divorce, his shoulders looked stronger, carrying him with much more confidence and charisma than before.
maybe he finally quit his shitty job, you thought to yourself, trying to act cool as you saw him coming closer...
yeah he definitely quit his job, you think to yourself again, laying on your back while his cock is splitting you open.
"I missed you so much my love..."
familiar goosebumps hit your skin and his hands slide along the curves of your waist, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.
all you can do is take it, unfocused eyes watching your ex-husband thrusting inside your dripping pussy. nanami grunts, his body pressed against your own, his breath fanning over your neck, and you can't help but moan his name and wrap your legs around his hips, trying to meet his thrusts.
"'missed you too kento..." you try to speak, your hands reaching out to hold his face.
you missed everything about him, the warmth of his skin, his cologne scent, how messy his blond hair gets when you run your hands through it, and the way he knows every single one of your weak spots.
he never fucked you this hard in the past, of course he was rough sometimes, but you can tell something has changed, snapped.
not that you're complaining about it.
your back arches off the bed, making his pelvic bone touch your spasming clit.
"this time I'm not letting you go angel..."
his eyes get darker, thinking about the potential men and women who had you since your divorce, it makes him fuck you harder, deeper.
"mine..." he whispers, more to himself than for you to hear.
he takes your hands to pin them above your head and smiles when he hears you whine.
"you're gonna cum angel?" he asks, not slowing down his thrusts.
he knows you by heart, and he smiles when you nod, his mouth starting to suck on the soft skin of your neck, marking you.
"that's okay, I'm gonna cum too..." he says, and you can feel his hot breath hitting your skin.
he keeps rubbing your sweet spot, completely lost in the feeling. god he missed that feeling, you're the only one who can make him lose his mind like that, he can't believe he let you go when you're this perfect.
"you're still not on birth control?"
and he smiles again when he sees you shake your head. so perfect.
"gonna put a baby in you yeah? gonna make you a mom... will you let me angel?"
you mindlessly nod your head, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, your whole body is trembling and you feel his cock twitches inside of you.
"please... breed me..." you sweetly asks, and he can't deny you.
your vision gets blurry, your eyes roll back and you violently cum around his cock as he does the same in you, still thrusting to push his cum deeper. you both stays silent for a few seconds, nanami's head buried in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, closing his eyes of content when he feels your hands rubbing his back.
"I love you, I've never stopped loving you, even after six years..." he whispers, his voice sounding almost vulnerable as he kisses your shoulder.
you ruffle his hair, and you whine a little as you can feel his cock still pushing against your cervix.
"I'm here now, I won't leave."
he hums, his arms wrapping around your waist and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.
this time you both won't let go of each other.
jjk masterlist
so i watched everything everywhere all at once again yesterday and having seen the movie before made the line “you have unlimited potential because you’re so bad at everything,” which when I initially watched hit like a joke, wreck me. the idea that having hopes and dreams and hobbies that are half pursued isn’t wasted time rather proof that you yourself are limitless just. yeah. leave me be please.
Happy Birthday Paul Rudd
- April 6, 1969
Rudd subs in white. Everyone else red.
— el trato (the deal) miguel o'hara x fem!reader
process: miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.
contains: I translated all Spanish on google, so please if anyone knows if I fucked up tell me!; enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; Spanish term of endearment ‘chiquita’ (little thing/small)
step one step two
MIGUEL WATCHED AS YOU FIDDLED WITH THE DIFFERENT TECH MACHINES, TAPPING SCREENS WITH A FOCUSED GAZE. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.
He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.
You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.
He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.
So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.
You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."
Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.
When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.
Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.
"How's your bloody boring shit going?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.
"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.
He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."
You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"
Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start calling you boss, and kissing your boots?"
Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."
Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."
Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.
You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.
You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.
Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)
You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"
He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.
He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)
"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.
"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....how annoyingly caliente (hot) you make me, chiquita." (little thing/small.)
You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"
"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.
"To prove I'm helpful."
"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"
"Of course."
"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.
"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"
He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then jode (fuck) something up."
You knew what that word meant.
"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.
You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.
. . .
You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.
Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.
'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.
You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.
"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.
Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."
You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."
Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."
You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.
"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.
"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.
Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.
You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"
"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"
You nod.
"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."
You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."
He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working for me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."
You eye him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chiquita." (little thing/small.)
You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.
i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…
also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment
kisses, holly
Rose I She/her or they/them I 20 yo I Bisexual disaster I Only there to simp I ⚖ ☼
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