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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@beenathembo
Before you interact with me & my blog:
• my pronouns are exclusively they/them/ze (I accept monarch if you feel like speaking to royalty)
•this is a NSFW, Minors DNI, 21+ years old blog
•pro-black doesn’t mean I don’t fw the rest of y’all, but I’m black and I live to be surrounded by less euro-centric mindsets and lifestyles
•I read smut 25/8
•actively protesting big gov’t so fuck off you you not rocking with that
do i wanna know? - chapter 5: losing you
𑣲summary: jack and samira might be losing you for good...
𑣲contains: black!fem!reader, but anyone can read. reader uses she/her pronouns. 18+ smut. sexual fantasies. angst. jealousy.
💌a/n - i do not think i proofread very well, so i apologize if there are any mistakes.
Imagine this is me 🧍🏾
Jack & Samira are childish asf, need to seek counsel/therapy before stepping to my girl!
Standing on the hill I’m finna die on — istg because WHY are they like this!
“I wanna fuck her until she forgets this happened,” okay you’ve skipped severalllll steps babe. You can’t go friends to lovers/enemies to friends to lovers with ✨COMMUNICATION ✨
Soooo Gabby 👀 we getting lesbian hunching for our prideeeeeee
જ♡➴ he teaches you how to play pool
The low hum of the bar faded into the background as he guided you toward the pool table in the back corner. Dim lights cast a golden glow over the green felt, and the clack of balls from other tables seemed distant now. "Here," he murmured, voice low and smooth like aged whiskey. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down earlier, exposing strong forearms corded with muscle and faint veins that flexed as he picked up a cue. The fabric strained slightly over his shoulders, and you tried not to stare.
You gripped the cue awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he stood behind you. “I’ve never been good at this.”
“That’s why I’m teaching you, sweetheart.” His chest brushed your back as he leaned in, one hand settling lightly on your hip to adjust your stance. The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress. “Bend forward a little more.” You did, feeling the cool edge of the table against your hips. He stepped in fully then, his body molding against yours from behind in one fluid motion. Tall, solid, and far too warm.
“Like this,” he whispered. His breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver racing down your spine. You could smell his cologne; something dark and woody that made your head feel fuzzy. His fingers slid down your arm, wrapping around your hand on the cue to correct your grip. His thumb stroked once along the side of your wrist, almost absentmindedly, but the way your breath hitched told him everything.
“Eyes on the cue ball,” he continued, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Not the pocket yet. You need to feel the angle first.” His other hand moved to your shoulder, pressing you gently into the proper form. You were caged between his arms now, trapped in the most delicious way possible. Every small shift of his body against yours sent sparks through you, the hard plane of his chest, the subtle flex of his thighs behind yours.
You tried to focus on the shot, but all you could think about was how perfectly he fit against you, how his breath kept teasing your neck with every instruction, warm and ragged like he was fighting the same tension you were. “Relax,” he said huskily, his mouth hovering just below your ear. “You’re too tense. Let me help.”
He adjusted your elbow, his fingers lingering far longer than necessary, tracing down to your wrist again. When you finally took the shot, the cue ball struck with a sharp crack, but you barely noticed where it went. All you registered was the way his grip tightened on your hip as he praised you softly. “There you go, baby, you're a natural.”
The words hit low in your stomach. You straightened up slowly, turning in the small space he allowed you. His eyes were dark, locked on your lips for a beat too long before flicking back up. “Again?” he asked, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk that promised much more than another lesson.
You swallowed hard, pulse racing. “Yeah… I think I need a lot more practice.”
a/n: i saw a video on tiktok about this and had to write it lol
i've noticed that white people interact quite a bit with black!reader fics, or is that just me...?? like the black isn't the reader's fav color...
PSA: stuttering in fics
as someone with a speech impediment, all of the people saying that only one type of stuttering is valid are wrong.
stuttering CAN look like this: "t-this is a-an example s-s-sentence"
OR this: "this-this is an example sen-sentence."
OR this: "t-t-t-th-..t-ttttthis is an example sentence."
OR this: "this is, uhm, an example, uh, sentence."
OR this: "this is an example sssssss-sentence."
OR this: "this is an examp-...this an example sentence."
sometimes the sentence won't even come out of your mouth at all.
there are probably many examples i'm forgetting, but that's the point! it usually is a mix of a few of these, but some people do one of them more often than others! some people with speech impediments have certain sounds that they almost consistently have trouble with (for me it's "st").
people with speech impediments also rarely-if ever-stutter whilst they're singing or whispering.
most importantly!!!! people with speech impediments are capable of saying a sentence without stuttering!! it can just be a gamble sometimes.
and if more people could portray the frustration that comes with stuttering and not being able to get words out, i'd be a very happy girl.
(fun fact: sometimes when my mouth won't let me say what i want to say, i get so annoyed that i just yell or grumble out "WORDS.")
this was your speech impediment PSA!!!!
So who’s gonna write this?
wine and a bit of sadism. j.a.
saw this tweet and thought... wouldn't this be such a good one-shot prompt. so here is this !! wc: 1.2k... minors dni
Ovulation brings forth a different demon that is unlike you in many ways. You go out wearing revealing clothing because you feel extremely sexy – unlike when you’re in luteal and have to sheathe your eyes every time you come across a reflective surface. You make goo-goo eyes at people in a manner that almost comes off as flirtatious, even if you’re only trying to be nice. You make eye contact, and you never fail to strike up a conversation with random people. You’re also criminally horny, and with that comes a strange bit of evilness.
You’ve been lying in bed all evening with a glass of wine, listening to the crime documentary you turned on a while ago. You were eagerly watching it a half hour ago, but now you’re growing a bit paranoid with how violent it’s getting.
captain picker isgonna finger himself
his wife is. 44 years old.
The fucking that old man website when someone actually fucks that old man
Tumblr is stuffed to the brim with 18-25 year olds who talk endlessly about being a hole for old men and have a heart attack the second a consenting adult is in a relationship with an old man
Can't decide how seriously Jack would take to examining you (and your cunt) during foreplay. Probably very seriously, but you wouldn't know it from the way he's just so smarmy about it, like you can't see his cock painfully bulging inside of his scrub bottoms.
"You gotta strip, Sleepy. I need to perform a full physical. Can't have any fabric getting in the way of my diagnosis."
The words exactly sound like they'd be in the script for the worst porn video ever, but in the gravel of Jack's voice, they get you wet before he even touches you. Sorry, examines.
You peel off your scrubs, step out of your underwear, and lie completely exposed under him.
And, like the beautiful asshole he is, Jack doesn't take his stethoscope right over your chest. Nope, he just presses the freezing cold metal right up against your nipple.
He circles it until it peaks. You gasp.
"I don't think that's where the heart is, Dr. Abbot."
His head tilt works as a shrug.
"Don't have to listen in on it to know you're dangerously aroused...better settle down there."
And as he tilts his head forward to lick your other nipple---a taste test, Jack slips the stethoscope to where it's actually supposed to be, and you can't help but feel the heart he's listening to share its pulse with your cunt when he smiles.
He nearly whispers.
"She's hammering, kid. Can't imagine how your cunt's gonna feel when I get around to it."
You gasp again when the shock of the metal hits your slit.
Jack listens. If you're guessing right, if you even can with the way the nub rubs up against your cunt, your slick sticking to it, that he's wearing what is a clinical curiosity on his face.
The bastard. The beautiful bastard.
"Huh. She's pretty frantic down there, too. What'd I do to deserve that?"
Sleepyhead
jack abbot x ICUnurse!singlemom!reader
wc: 4.6k
summary: a little girl from the PTMC daycare keeps finding her way to the ED. Jack allows the girl to stick around because he finds her mom very attractive and wants to see her again.
tags: unrealistic negligence of an early education facility, (the hospital would have been on lockdown irl this little girl wouldnt have made it off the floor)
little miracle masterlist
˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆
After the midnight rush of DWIs, the night slows down enough for Abbot to catch up emails and on the computer. He types away in the draft and schedules each of them to come in all at 8am and every 30 minutes after. Admin likes to waste his time so he likes to give them a head ache too.
As he continues, just in front of the nurse's station, he sees a little girl wandering past. She was very small, probably preschool age. Her hair in a ponytail and was dawned in a matching pajama set. She must have come in with her mother and ended up lost. Hopefully someone— a nurse— will help her back to the respective room. He then grabs an tablet and goes to one of the North side rooms to discharge a patient.
After he escorts the patient through the triage doors he passes the Pediatric room and notices the little girl from before. She stands by the wall and traces the mural of the woodland animals. She hums a nursery rhyme in a similar tune to "Mary Had a Little Lamb."
Can’t Let Summer Past, Emily Manwaring, 2023
Mr. and Mrs. Abbot
Jack Abbot x black!reader
(part of this universe)
Lovergirlnote: It’s officially here! Our wedding chapter. I apologize for the delay. I meant to post this yesterday, but then I had plans with my sisters. Whew, we’ve come a long way, but I’m happy that we’re here. I have a few more chapters planned for Jack and Princess, and then I’ll officially close out this series. It’s been a ride, but I’ve enjoyed every second. As always, thank you all so much. I love the community we’ve crafted together. Let me all know what you think of this chapter. 🥹♥️
It’s perfectly reasonable if reader decides to steal jack’s prosthetic. In fact, she should be allowed to. Men should always be a woman’s peace, and a woman should always be a man’s problem. I don’t make the rules.
you ain't wrong boo!! but don't worry, i'm gonna make jack feel it... he's gonna be so sick to his stomach. reader stealing his prosthetic will be the least of his worries!!
This was crazy actually 😭
⟡ ݁₊ . Cupcake! ୭ ᵎᵎ || baking time
summary - the date is here! you talk to the group chat about your nerves and jack finally arrives. the day goes great but it takes a turn towards the end.
content warnings - black!fem!reader, but anyone can read it ofc!, reader is a nurse, age gap, cursing, suggestiveness!, crack
taglist - open!
prev || next
wc: 3k
(there’s writing below)
it feels like you’re heart is going to explode. you’ve been pacing around your apartment ever since you organized all of the baking supplies. actually, the baking supplies jack bought, since he sent you money for it. he even sent you way more than you needed and when you told him it was too much he replied: “save it and buy something nice for yourself.”. there’s no way he isn’t doing this on purpose, you think to yourself. it’s like he knows exactly what to say to make you flustered.
anyway, you’re anxiously pacing around your apartment right now because you never thought this day would come! you and jack - alone, in your apartment, and you’re gonna teach him how to bake!what the hell is happening?
jack texted you around ten minutes ago telling you he was almost here, which just caused you more anxiety. you’ve checked yourself out in the mirror about thirty times, fixing your lip combo, reapplying your blush, spraying your perfume and fixing your hair. before you can psych yourself out any longer, you hear a firm knock at your door and feel your heart stop. you walk to the door and take a deep breath before opening it.
“hi, jackie!” you say, barely able to contain your excitement.
“hey, sweetheart.” jack smiles at you, himself not being able to contain his happiness to see you.
he brings you into a sweet hug that leaves you completely flustered. you burry your face in his neck, trying to hide your flustered face. he can feel your smile on his neck, making him smile even harder. it’s a very smug smile at that, he likes having such an affect on you.
“these are for you.” jack steps back a little to be able to hand over flowers, your favorite flowers.
“jack!” you squeal. “why did you get me flowers?” you ask with genuine confusion, although really grateful.
“why wouldn’t I? beautiful girls deserve beautiful flowers.” he answers nonchalantly.
“you’re so cheesy, jack.” you giggle and take the flowers from his hands.
“how did you know these were my favorite?” he had brought you a gorgeous bouquet of lilies.
“I did my research.” he shrugs and walks with you towards the kitchen.
“what kind of research?” you ask, looking for a vase to put the flowers in.
“a man never shares his secrets.” he shrugs, the corners of his mouth turning up.
“not even with me?” you fake an upset expression as you stand in front of him.
“fine...” he sighs, how could he hide anything from you with that look on your face. “I asked trinity.” he says quietly, avoiding your eyes.
“aw, jack! that’s so cute.” you giggle at his response, not expecting him to ask one of your friends.
“yeah, yeah. can we bake now?” he asks, feeling a little embarrassed.
“of course, jackie.” you say softly, walking over to kitchen island.
“what are we making?” jack follows you, like a lost puppy.
“we’re making brownies!” you announce excitedly.
“you seem pretty excited about that.” he smiles down at you, chuckling to himself.
“I love brownies, they’re probably my second favorite after cupcakes.” you explain.
“we have that in common, princess.” he agrees with you.
the nickname makes you flustered, not only is he standing right next to you, a little too closely, but he’s calling you princess!
you clear your throat, trying to act as if you aren’t flustered, but jack sees right trough you.
“o-okay, let’s get baking now.” you stumble over your words, while you put a bit of distance between the two of you.
“what should I do?” jack asks, leaning against the kitchen island.
“brownies are pretty easy. we only need to mix up a few ingredients and pretty much just put it in the oven.” you explain as you get ingredients ready.
“you can mix the the ingredients while I preheat the oven.” you say and walk over to the oven.
“but, I need you here while I do it. I told you I’m terrible.” jack says almost panicked.
“It’s okay, jackie. just mix these into the bowl, I’m right behind you.” you giggle at his antics and try to reassure him.
“fine, but don’t blame me when these turn out awful.” jack puts his hands up in defeat.
“it’ll be fine, jack. I’m only preheating the oven, it’ll only take a few seconds. you’ll be fine, i promise.” you look up at him with smile, trying to hide your laugh.
“whatever you say.” jack accepts defeat.
you preheat the oven and walk over to him again. in the few seconds it took for you to preheat the oven, jack has managed to spill flour all over the island.
“I’m sorry, I told you it was a bad idea.” he says trying to defend himself. the look on his face causes you to let out a loud laugh.
“hey! what’s so funny?” jack laughs with you.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! you just looked so guilty.” you cover your mouth, trying to stop the laughs from escaping.
“that’s funny to you huh?” he teases you, walking closer to you and invading your space.
“is this funny too?” he asks before wiping your cheek with a handful of flour.
“jack!” you gasp and look at him with shock.
“you are so done for.” you say as you take a handful of flour from the counter and wipes it all over his face.
“oh, that was dangerous, honey.” jack smirks and throws more flour at you.
you both continue throwing flour at each other and laugh harder than you’ve ever laughed before. afterwards you both look awful, there’s flour all over your clothes, faces and even the floor. the thought of having to clean it all up not even crossing your mind until you’re finished.
“okay, okay! I surrender!” you exclaim and put your hands up in surrender. your actions cause jack to laugh.
“you look cute like this.” jack blurts out, leaving you all flustered again. you try covering it up though.
“with flour all over my face?” you ask in disbelief.
“yeah? you always look cute.” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“stop it, jack.” you say shyly, causing him to smile.
“what? you know it’s true, honey.” he takes a step closer.
“whatever.” you back away and look away, a small smile threatening your lips.
“there she is.” jack says warmly after making you smile.
“we have to clean this up, jack.” you say, trying to sound serious. It doesn’t come across as convincing considering the giddy smile on your face.
“I know, honey. how about I clean this mess and you go clean yourself up?” he says pointing towards your bathroom.
“no, jack, you can’t clean this by yourself! I’ll help you.” you say hastily.
“of course I can, sweetheart. don’t worry about it, go clean up and I’ll be right here waiting for you, promise.” he reassures you, smiling from ear to ear.
“but no, I can’t make you do that! we both made this mess.” this all feels so wrong, you’re not used to people doing such nice things for you. it’s usually the other way around.
“it’s final, baby. I’m cleaning it up.” he says firmly.
baby? he’s never called you that before. he didn’t even mean for it to slip out, it just felt so natural to him. he’s been wanting you for so long, being at your place just trigged something in him. everything just feels so domestic, the both of you at your place, baking and having a flour fight. how could he not accidentally call you baby?
he tried covering it up, not letting his facial expression show how he actually slipped up.
“okay.” you give up with a frown on your face.
you give up partly because you know he’s already won, but also because he just called you baby. that completely shut your mind off.
“good girl.” he smiles, patting your lower back.
that one was completely intentional, he knew how flustered you get when he praises you. he wanted to see the cute look on your face when you get all flustered for him. he just doesn’t want to admit it yet.
your brain malfunctions as soon as he utters those words, you can’t do anything but listen. this causes you to immediately go into your bathroom to clean yourself up, like he’d asked you to.
you decided to take a shower. I mean, there was flour all over you.
when you get out, you put on a new pair of low waist sweatpants and a pink tank top. you know that you’re practically on date with your crush right now, but you always want to feel comfortable. no matter what.
“welcome back, sweetheart.” jack warmly greets you as you walk into the now spotless kitchen.
“jack? how did you clean so quickly?” you only showered for about ten minutes.
“this is nothing. wanna continue now?” jack asks brushing it off.
“I’d love to, but you have flour all over you. don’t you wanna get cleaned up as well?” you ask him, looking at his face full of flour.
“only if that’s okay with you.” it’s your apartment, he doesn’t want to invade or make you feel uncomfortable.
“of course it’s okay with me, silly. come on.” you giggle and guide him to the bathroom.
“thank you so much, sweetie” he thanks you, wanting to kiss you on the cheek but thinks it might be a bit too much.
“of course, jackie. I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you to wear though.” you give him a small pout.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be fine” he so desperately wants to kiss that pout off of your lips.
“I’ll go prepare the rest for the brownies, I’ll wait for you so we can make them together.” you say lastly, closing the door behind you.
˚⋆🧁༉‧₊˚.
jack walks out of the bathroom with his old clothes on and wet curly hair. you’ve always loved his hair, but if it’s possible, you love it even more now. you just want to rake your fingers through his hair, you wanna know how soft it feels, how it smells, how it would feel to tug on it while you two make out. before your thoughts could spiral further, jack breaks you out of your spell.
“honey? I’ve called your name a few times now.” jack calls after you.
he sees the affect he has on you, but decides to play dumb.
“what? I’m sorry, what did you say?” you say as you try to compose yourself.
“I just asked if you were ready to start.” he smiles at you and comes closer.
“oh! yeah! let’s start.” you say hastily and start measuring the flour.
“weren’t you supposed to teach me?” jack asks, teasing you.
“right, I’m sorry! here measure this.” you fumble over your words. being near him making you nervous all over again.
“don’t apologize, honey. I’m just messing with you.” he reassures you.
“thank you, how much flour do we need?” jack asks, taking the measuring cup from you.
you continue with the baking and show jack exactly what to do. he’s being quite needy with you, not wanting to leave your side because he’ll “ruin the brownies”, according to him.
“jack, it’s okay. just keep mixing, I’m just grabbing a pan.” you reassure him after his pleas for you to stay put.
“but-“ he starts but you cut him off.
“no buts! you’ll be fine, I promise.” you cut him off with a finger pointing towards him.
“okay, ma’am.” that shuts him up.
“okay, let’s taste the batter before we put it in the oven. It’s the best part, besides the actual brownies, of course.” you ramble on. jack just nods and smiles down at you.
you stick your finger in the batter and stick it in your mouth. you taste the sweetness and let out a small moan at the wonderful taste.
jack can feel his whole body heat up at the sight, he feels like he’s in heaven. you, sucking on your finger and - god, the noise you just let out, he can almost feel his knees buckle. he feels like some creepy pervert, but he can’t help it when you look like that. you take your finger out of your mouth and jack speaks up.
“you have something here.” jack whispers and swipes his finger against your bottom lip.
you both feel the air shift, everything tenses up. the world slows down and the only thing you can focus on are each other.
jack’s idea was just to swipe the brownie batter of your lips and wipe it off. but, he can’t help but feel your plush and soft lips against his fingers. he freezes in time. he feels himself push his thumb into your awaiting mouth.
he does it without thinking, it just felt so right. you don’t even seem phased by it, immediately closing your lips around his finger. it was almost like you were waiting for him to do it. jack pushes his thumb further into your mouth, letting out a groan at the feeling of your tongue wrapping around it.
there’s complete silence between you, besides the wet noises of jack pushing his thumb into your mouth. jack doesn’t utter a word, he’s totally entranced by the sight of you.
you whimper around his finger and look up at him, your eyes glossed over. jack pushes his thumb in even further, causing you to gag around it. this seems to break him out of the trance. he pulls his finger out of your mouth and looks at you with a panicked expression.
“I’m sorry- I, I don’t know, I don’t know why I did that.” he blurts out, stumbling over his words with how fast he’s talking.
“jack-“ he cuts you off.
“i-i need to use the bathroom.” jack almost runs into the bathroom, leaving you behind.
him leaving so abruptly causes you to spiral. did he regret it?, did it gross him out?, was it too much?, should you have stopped? all these thoughts fill your mind and you decide to just put the brownies in the oven to occupy yourself.
˚⋆🧁༉‧₊˚.
it takes around twenty minutes before jack comes back from the bathroom. you’re taking the brownies out of the oven while jack comes into the kitchen.
“hi, jack, I’m sorry about earlier-“ you begin, trying to apologize but he cuts you off.
“don’t mention it. should be try the brownies?” jack brushes it off. he barley even acknowledges what happened earlier. did he regret it?
“oh, yeah, sure.” you reply, trying to conceal your hurt.
did he really regret it? because if he did, you’d much rather him say it than pretend that it never happened.
you let the brownies cool down a little before you cut them into squares.
“here.” you pass him a brownie, giving him a small smile.
“thank you.” he smiles and takes a bite. he almost moans at how good it tastes.
“taste good?” you tease him and smirk.
“amazing.” he answers with a mouth full of brownie, which causes you to let out a small laugh.
“I’m glad. you should be proud of yourself jack, you aren’t that bad of a baker as you claim to be.” you say and take a bite out of your brownie.
“thank you, but this was all you. i wouldn’t be able to recreate this without you.” jack smiles at you.
“that’s not true.”
“oh, you know it’s true.” he says and takes another bite, a huge smile across his lips.
“I guess. I mean you basically had me attached to your hip.” you admit and laugh softly.
“hey! i needed you for emotional support!” he says playfully.
“sure.” you say, dragging out the word.
“okay… i think it’s time for me to go home.” jack sighs.
you wish this day would never end, you were living in what felt like a dream. you and jack, it felt like it was finally happening. well, until a few minutes ago, when he completely ignored what happened between you two.
“oh, okay.” you try to mask your disappointment, but jack can see right through you. although he pretends he doesn’t notice.
“I’ll see you at work, yeah?” he says putting on his shoes.
“yeah, I’ll see you.” you try to give him a small smile, but it’s not quite reaching your eyes.
he wishes he could make that face go away, but he feels like he took things to far tonight. he needs to slow things down.
“bye, jack.” you give him a small wave as he walks out of the door.
“bye.” he says, his voice above a whisper.
you close the door and feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. you had such a great time, you didn’t want to let what happened overshadow that. but, it was so hard. you feel so dramatic. why is this making you cry? it’s so stupid. all you want to do is lock yourself in your room and cry.
this is exactly what you feared would happen. you’d get your hopes up, he’d crush them and you’d end up crying in your room.
you really hope this doesn’t make things awkward between you and jack. apart from your crush on him, you cherish your friendship deeply.
this whole thing just makes you so sad. you feel like and idiot. for him, it was probably just the heat of the moment, but for you, it was so much more.
eventually you get tired of the spiraling and get ready for bed. you try to get yourself to feel better. you light your favorite candle, get into comfy pajamas and put on your comfort show, friends. all these things usually work wonders whenever your sad. unfortunately, nothing is making you feel better right now.
you don’t even have the energy to text the group chat and let them what happened. they’re asking all sorts of questions and you are not in the mood whatsoever to engage.
you decide to put your phone down and try to fall asleep instead. you fall asleep with an episode of friends in the bakgrund, providing you with as much comfort you can get tonight.
˚⋆🧁༉‧₊˚.
a/n: this is probably the longest fic i’ve ever written, i hope u guys like it!! i missed writing this sm I’m so happy to be back ily 💗💗
⟡ ݁₊ . Cupcake! ୭ ᵎᵎ
taglist: @ihyperfixatetoomuch @leia-amidala @merlin-288 @bathtimejaffacakes @teenwolfbitches28 @whyxo @allluvdee @uhmmjayla @staylife-07 @itzpixiebabe @tojii11 @totocutie @u-get-to-c-the-medical-stuff @bearymuchso @vikspretty @taygrls @elenamoncadaibarra @ubiquitous-corvids @dramioneforevertilltheend @lynds-js @mmb77 @shampooedcow @piscesfairyyy @polkabarbie @goldnhabitx @stylesonlyangel4 @tpwklizzie @lost444ariess @shawnyhats-girlwhatever
JACK ABBOT, you dumb fool
Giving ghost a portal pussy thinking you might finally get that rough, brutal sex you always crave while he's gone...
Only for him to spend his time making out with your cunt like it's your lips. Peppering sweet kisses to your clit, licking into you slow and warm, almost longing. Ghost is horribly sappy when he's away from you and just wants to give you kisses. He could spend hours with the portal pressed to his lips and a hand squeezing his bulge.
Half the time he doesn't even make you cum, or only takes you out to give you a quick peck. It's absolutely torture and the second he gets home you're tying him up in retaliation.
HANDSY.
^ྀི pairing cameron cade x black fem!reader
^ྀི in which one compliment gets you into some trouble with the star QB.
^ྀི ¡warnings! smut (smidge of plot/buildup). nail tech!reader, college athlete!cameron, angst, pet names, dirty talk, fingering, just mr. cade being nasty.
^ྀི a/n i def based this on the part of quen’s video when she asked if he gets manicures 😭 his reaction after she called him nasty told me EVERYTHING! anywaysss, just had to see if i still got it lol, something sweet while i finish the rest of my drafts. be on the look out for the next week and after..hehe. thank yall for reading (interact pls) and lmk what you think! <3
“do you get manicures? your hands are pretty”
it was a mindless compliment, just something that slipped out in the spur of the moment. occupational hazard. you worked with hands all day long so cuticles and nail beds are the first things you notice about anyone.
you didn’t know him well, or at all really, but you knew enough. cameron cade is practically a campus celebrity. his face is plastered everywhere you look, whispers of whatever rumor of the week involving him leaks from distant conversations. that’s about as far as it got for you
so when he’d claimed the seat next to yours in your contemporary literature class, always as quiet as a church mouse, after weeks of stolen glances his clean, perfect hands had weirdly became something that you took notice of. fixated on.
“your hands are pretty”
cameron’s pen stilled over his page instantly. he almost thought he’d hallucinated the words. today’s lecture faded into nothing but background noise, your honeyed voice was the only thing he cared about,
finally. he thought
the opening he’d been waiting for.
he couldn’t help the slow grin that pulled at his lips.
you caught his attention easily on the first day of class. bright eyed and bubbly, draped in baby pink from head to toe. a walking ray of sunshine with the kind of natural, warm confidence that just makes you so much more attractive. it also didn’t help that you’re fucking stacked. your body looks like it was hand crafted by god herself.
the two of you never really spoke much outside of borrowing pencils or sharing notes—he was afraid of ruining any chance he might have—but cameron knew one thing: he needed you before the semester ended.
his sea green eyes flicked up to yours before dragging down your frame, and his pupils blew wide as he drank you in. entranced doesn’t even begin to explain what you do to him.
“‘preciate it. i been tryna stay consistent” he said lowly, leaning back further into his seat, his tongue gliding slowly over his bottom lip
your pulse spiked when you caught the way his eyes dipped. he was so clearly checking you out, and he wasn’t shy about it
you cleared your throat, huffing a quiet laugh and picking nervously at the hello kitty charms that dangled freely from your square french tips
“well you’re doing a good job. they look better than most people’s,” your gaze dropped to those veiny, well kept hands again before snapping back to his modelesque face
“way better. especially for an athlete”
that did it for him. you’d given him just enough to make ends meet..amongst other things.
but how were you supposed to know that a stupid observation on his hygiene would be the key to open pandora’s box?
you’d learn very, very quickly.
“oh yeah?,” he tilted his head slightly, smirking “sound like you been paying real close attention”
his pen was long gone. forgotten. sidelined at the edge of his notebook while he sat with his toned arms folded over his chest, angled toward you
you stammered “n-no! i just— a giggle slipped through you before you could stop it, “i know nice hands when i see ‘em”
the sweet, melodic sound made his skin hum, and his grin only widened once he realized he could pounce.
“alright then, miss hand expert” he chuckled “since you know what you talking ‘bout, maybe you can do ‘em for me sometime”
conversation flowed easily after that. he’d say something mildly flirty, you’d playfully roll your eyes and pretend to be taking notes
and the moment he caught up to you after class, all six foot something of his muscled, sun tinted frame towering over you, that gleaming dimpled smile and those misty green irises coaxing you back to his on-campus apartment to “just talk some more”,
you were his for the taking.
the pilot episode of jury duty is barely audible beneath your helpless whimpering. not that cameron actually planned on paying attention anyway,
it took no time for him to laugh you right out of your clothes.
which is how he ended up flat on his stomach between your smooth brown legs, one hand planted firm on your thigh to keep you exactly where he wants you. prying you wide open for him to bask in the stunning view of your creamy, soppy pussy clamped tight around his thick fingers, glossy beneath the warm glow of the picture lights hung over the sofa.
“pussy so pretty..so perfect” he rasps shaking his head in disbelief, “wish you could see how fucking good you look right now” the euphoric sound of your juices circling the air as he keeps his pace
suddenly his fingers curl upward digging straight into the ridges of your pleasure point,
you cry a string of curse words as he drills into your button again, and again, coaxing so much slick from you that it’s trickling down his hand
“mmmhm” he hums, zeroed in and focused on the mess you’re making “give me all that shit, mama. fuck” the bulge in his sweats swells. he’s more than satisfied when he feels your warmth tighten around him
a high pitched, elongated moan spills from you. so pathetic that it’s almost embarrassing, “nnggh— ohhh my— c-cameron!—” your breathing stutters as you arch your back off the cushions,
“what’s wrong princess?” he coos softly, a devious smirk on his lips “you love my hands, don’t you?”
“touching you like this? making you feel good? hmm?”
he’s delving deeper, harder, in a slow torturous rhythm that sends a burst of pleasure springing and coiling through your core. too much for you to handle all at once, and still not nearly enough. it just about takes you over the edge
your eyes widen, glassy with tears threatening to fall, “yes! fuck! wait—” you yelp “wait wait—” you’re gasping and palming his broad shoulders attempting to push away, but the grip he has on your leg only tightens.
“mm mm, stop moving” he pauses his wrist mid stroke. the pressure that’s building in the pit of your stomach depletes slowly, and those hypnotic blue green orbs snap up to yours, his voice dipping into something dangerous. “be a good girl for me. you almost there, i can feel it” he holds your gaze while he plants a warm, wet open mouthed kiss on your inner thigh and latches gently to the soft skin
a shaky breath courses through you as you attempt to steady yourself, part of you aching for more of him, part of you so close to the brink that you can’t take it
but you do anyway.
“cam…please” you whimper, your lips pouty and trembling, breathing as torn up as you are. your brows softened into a frown
“i know, baby.” he coos “i got you”
now his fingers are moving again. quicker, more precise. another broken moan rips from your throat, loud enough to break the sound barrier, probably earning nasty looks from his neighbors— your classmates—but he couldn’t care less.
he’s not letting you go anywhere anytime soon.
he rests his cheek on your inner thigh and takes his bottom lip into his mouth, slowly breaking his gaze away from your gorgeous, tear stained face before letting his eyes dip again, and his breath catches in his throat. shit, he almost combusts at the sight
arousal pooling in thick sticky heaps at the base of his fingers every time he curls into you. your pearl swollen and throbbing, your folds glistening with threads of slick. like something out of a painting
he breathes out,
“oh my god, look at you”
you moan an attempt at a response as your head falls lazily to the cushion beneath you, the tremor of your thighs earning a hum of approval
and then a low, desperate moan tears through him, “damn, this pussy dripping all over me,” his jaw falls slack. “can’t tell me you ain’t mine now” he’s moving his fingers up in tighter circles, twisting and curling as far as he can reach, stimulating pressure in all of the right places,
carrying you right into an otherworldly orgasm.
“cameron— you yelp “shit, shit, shit, you’re gonna make me—
your words snag in your throat, overcome by the pitiful, whiny cry that ejects from you. everything fades for a split second, your brain turns to complete mush,
and he’s loving every second. he’s starry eyed, in awe watching you come apart for him. it feels like he has the whole world in his hands
“mhm, just like that,”
“cum all over my hand, pretty”
