#and it will probably be a second before i wear a fucking skirt when leaving the apartment

[courtillyy]

actually the idea of moving in with someone is fucking terrifying

[lovelyghst]

soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.

it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.

he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.

and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.

he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.

simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.

he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.

he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.

dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.

and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.

would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.

simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.

your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.

“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”

and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.

“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.

you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.

he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.

“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”

you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.

he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.

he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.

“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)

[covenofagatha]

Four times Agatha fails at cockwarming (and one time she doesn't)

The second attempt

Part two of this ask

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, premature ejaculation, teasing, mommy kink, bratty reader, desperate!Agatha, fingering, underwear as a gag, cum-eating (kind of)

When you wake up the next day, you can already feel the dull ache of arousal in your cunt. You’re still remembering the way Agatha looked yesterday, the way she sounded, when she came before she could even get her cock inside you, and it turns you on way more than it should. 

Why is there something so hot about your wife prematurely ejaculating? You’re not exactly sure, but having the power over her to make her fall apart so fucking easily and so fucking quickly really does something to you. 

Agatha is still sleeping next to you, on her side facing you, and you smirk. The two of you have plans today — seeing a movie and then mini-golfing. It’s a nice way to stay connected and spend time together with how busy you both have been. But you still have a little bit before you have to leave for the movie, more than enough time to get her cock inside you.

She stirs when you start to pepper kisses along her cheek and then down her neck and she turns onto her back, eyes fluttering open to look at you. “Morning, honey,” she says groggily. 

“Hi,” you whisper shyly, propping yourself up on an elbow to admire her. “How’d you sleep?” 

Your wife thinks for a moment. “Pretty good. I was dreaming about you.” The heat in her eyes tells you that it was a hot dream and you take the initiative to sit up and slide on top to straddle her. You’re wearing her purple flannel and simple gray cotton panties, Agatha in an oversized T-shirt and boxers, and your cunt can still feel the heat radiating off her already semi-erect cock through the two layers of fabric. Her hands rest on your waist and she looks up at you adoringly. 

“What was it about?” you ask, slowly rolling your hips over her length. She is always so pliable in the mornings and you feel her cock harden even more. 

Her hands squeeze you. “You were under my desk, sucking me off while I graded papers. And then I laid you on top of my desk so I could eat you and made you drip all over those papers, and when I passed them back to my students, they still smelled like you and I had to make up an excuse as to what it was.” 

The thought makes you throb and she’s almost to a full erection beneath you. “What did you say it was?” 

There’s a teasing glint in her eyes. “You woke me up right before I could come up with one.” 

You chuckle and grind down on her, both of you letting out a breathless moan. “Honey, we have to go soon,” she reminds you and you roll your eyes before reaching down between your bodies to spread your pussy lips open through your underwear so you can better drag your clit along her length. You whimper at how good it feels. 

“We still have some time,” you say persuasively but she pats your hips with pursed lips and you know you’re not winning this battle. You flop off of her back onto your side of the bed with a groan. “You know, you only make it harder on yourself when you deny me like that.” She snorts at the innuendo and gets out of bed. 

“Yeah, well, I’ll try to survive,” she retorts and grabs a change of clothes from her nightstand before going into the bathroom to get ready. 

It’s tempting to slide your hand into your underwear and relieve yourself, but she would be absolutely furious and probably not touch you for at least a week, so you grumble and get out of bed. You put on a skirt, fully intending to tease Agatha even more today, and a long-sleeve blouse. Agatha steps out of the bathroom, wearing suit pants and a blue sweater, and pats your ass on the way out of the room. 

She’s already making eggs when you come downstairs and breakfast is comfortably quiet before it’s time to go to the theater. 

If she notices that you’re being on your best behavior, she doesn’t say anything, and it makes you desperately want to be a brat instead. At least that gets you some attention. 

So when you get to the concession stand and you get a drink, you make eye contact with her as you deep-throat the straw before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking. 

Agatha chokes on a piece of popcorn and you smirk before walking past her to the room for your movie, taking extra care to brush your wrist against her cock. 

She settles into the chair next to you and you look around to make sure no one is near you before your hand sneaks into her lap and squeezes her cock. She keels and you feel her cock twitch in her pants. You rub your palm over her, stroking her back to full hardness, but then two more people walk into the theater and you go back to being her good girl. 

The movie starts but the only thing you notice is that Agatha is antsy. Her leg is bouncing on the floor fast and her fingers are drumming on the cupholder and it’s distracting. You know she’s a little worked up and you fucking love it — but you want to be able to pay attention to the screen. 

So you lay your hand flat on her thigh over her pants and she freezes. No more bouncing, no more drumming, just a sharp intake of breath. You don’t move your hand and you’re able to enjoy the movie for a few moments before you feel the fabric of her pants becoming tighter. 

Without even having to look down, you know she’s getting harder than she already was and you can’t help but tease — your fingers curl and you drag your nails up and down her thigh ever so slightly, always stopping before they reach the tip of  her cock. You don’t have a rhythm, sometimes pausing low for too long before her body jerks and you remember what you’re doing. 

Agatha slightly slouches further into the seat in an attempt to get your hand to go higher, but you hover your fingers off as a warning, and she shifts back to sitting normally. 

“Honey,” she whispers throatily and you have to bite back a smile. It’s unclear if she wants you to stop or keep going. 

So you slide your hand up so that two fingers are resting against the tip of her cock and she chokes. 

“Stop,” she says urgently, but it’s not an order, it’s a plea. 

You skim your fingertips over her hard cock and feel it pulse under you and she clenches onto both armrests and you can see how white her knuckles are in the light from the movie. 

Is she going to cum right here in the movie theater for you? In her pants like a fucking teenager? You think that might be even hotter than what happened yesterday and you can feel a pool of wetness collecting in your underwear

Agatha’s teeth are gritted so tightly and she presses a fist against her mouth, her hips rising almost indiscernibly. 

Fuck. 

But then her other hand grabs onto your wrist and pulls you off of her cock and you chuckle quietly before leaning over so your hot breath is on her ear. “Thought you were going to cum for me, mommy,” you mock and her cheek twitches before shaking her head, eyes staring bullets at the big screen. 

Your tongue flicks out against her earlobe and then you settle back into your chair and your wife doesn’t move until the movie gets to a sex scene and she lets out a little gasp. You know it’s not from the actors but from thinking of you like that, because that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

After she had cum prematurely yesterday, she had eaten you out until she’d gotten hard again and then lasted even longer than normal while fucking you. You had mentioned that maybe it was a good thing then and that she should cum quickly first every time, and she had growled and spanked you until you apologized for being a brat and then shoving three fingers inside you and making you orgasm again. 

Now it’s your turn to shift in your seat, feeling even more arousal course through your veins. 

Is that what she’s thinking about right now? A glance down at her cock confirms that she’s still just as hard as she was before and you wonder if she would agree to sneaking off for a bathroom quickie. You have no idea what’s happening in the movie, having missed critical exposition while teasing Agatha at the start, and you’d be fine with leaving right now if it meant you could get your wife’s cock in you sooner. 

“Mommy,” you murmur, making your voice sound as desperate as possible, not that you have to try too hard. “Can we—”

She shushes you. “Quiet, honey. Mommy’s trying to watch the movie.” You roll your eyes and are tempted to start teasing her again, but you know that she definitely wouldn’t give in then. 

And she will surely punish you if you do make her cum in her pants in a movie theater. 

So you sit patiently in your chair, barely even squirming, until the movie is over before jumping up the second the lights turn on. Agatha raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You…me…the bathroom?” you suggest and Agatha snorts. Your face falls. 

Your wife stands up more calmly than you did and you dramatically pout. “The putt-putt course is right next to here. You were so excited to play when we planned this, so we’re going to go there and you’re going to behave and maybe when we get home, mommy will give you a reward.” 

You want to make a cheap retort and ask if she thinks she can even make it until home, but you bite it back. No need to give her more reason to get fed up with you. 

“Fine, but you might want to cover up your pants somehow,” you advise, eyes flicking back down to the very evident outline of her erection. And then you can’t resist. “Try not to touch yourself, though. It’ll be a lot harder to hide a cum stain than just your cock.” 

Agatha grumbles something that sounds an awful like you fucking brat under her breath before taking off her blue sweater and tying it around her waist, leaving her in just a black tank top. Your mouth runs dry at the swell of her breasts, her pronounced collarbones, and the slight muscular curvature of her shoulders. She is so hot and your underwear just clings to you even more. 

She’s watching you expectantly, so you swallow hard, refocus, and lead the way outside. Agatha gives you the keys for you to move the car to the parking lot next to the theater while she walks over to buy tickets for mini-golf. 

You meet her by the station to get your equipment and almost laugh at how pained she looks. She’s standing at an awkward angle, like she’s actively trying not to collapse in on herself, and you know without a doubt that she’s still hard. 

After you get your putters and golf balls, you make your way over to the first hole. It’s a straight-forward shot about fifteen yards away and Agatha lets you go first. 

You line the ball up with the hole and get into position with the club, waggling your hips playfully because you can feel her eyes on your ass. You know that if you weren’t in public right now, she’d spank you for it. 

Focusing, you swing the putter and the ball rolls to about a foot away from the hole. 

“Not too bad,” Agatha says and you step out of the way so she can take her turn. When she leans over the club, you can see the tent her cock is making in her pants and it makes you snicker. It’s honestly impressive how little it takes to have her hard as a rock, and even more impressive of how long she can sustain the erection. 

Her ball goes well past the hole and she groans in frustration. 

“Got to get your head in the game, mommy,” you say with a wink, knowing that calling her that will only get her more worked up and her grip tightens on the putter. You’d make a comment about how easy she is, but you know that you don’t really have a leg to stand on with how wet you get just from the sight of her hands.

She gives you a warning look while you simper and lead her closer to the hole. You’re not a very good golfer, you don’t even really try when it comes to mini-golf, but for the sake of being a brat, you put your hands on the top of the putter and slowly and sensually drop to a squat, hands sliding down the shaft of the club.

Agatha exhales so loudly you can hear her and you shoot her a teasing smile before pretending to examine your ball’s position to the hole. “You know it’s my turn, don’t you?” she says. 

You stand up, rolling your body against the club as you do like it’s a stripper pole. It’s taking a lot of effort not to laugh at the exasperated look on your wife’s face, but by the straining in her pants, your exaggerated stunts are still impacting her. “Haven’t you already come first enough recently?” you ask innocently. 

“That doesn’t even make sense in this context,” she protests and you can’t stop from giggling. You make the putt and so does she. 

Moving onto the next hole, you bend at the waist to set your ball down, giving Agatha a clear view of your soaked underwear, and you can hear her sharp intake of breath from where she’s standing behind you. You’re playing a dangerous game and you know it’s only a matter of time before she starts trying to regain the upper hand. 

You get to the fifth hole before it happens. You’ve calmed down on the teasing because the score is so close and you’re determined not to let your wife beat you, and Agatha decides to try to throw you off. 

You’re about to take the putt when all of a sudden, she wraps her arms around you, hands resting on top of yours, as if she’s showing you how to hold the golf club if any passersby happen to see you.

But what she’s really doing is pressing her hard cock against your ass, pushing you forward slightly so your clit brushes against the putter. 

“Mommy can’t wait to fuck you later,” she purrs and your mind goes blank, an indescribable heat growing inside you. It’s the combination of being worked up by her reaction to your teasing, feeling her cock, and the words she’s whispering into your ear that is driving you absolutely crazy and you whine. Her little displays of power are so fucking hot and it only makes you want to struggle for control even more. But Agatha isn’t done yet. “I love the feeling of your warm, wet cunt around me. It’s like you were made for mommy — for mommy’s cock. I love all your pretty sounds, I love the way you look with my cock in your mouth. Fuck, baby, you’re so hot, I need you so bad.” 

Your breath is coming out raggedly and your head is absolutely spinning. You need to get a hold of yourself and you push your ass back into her cock. She hisses and it helps to clear your mind a little. “God, you’re just a pervert, aren’t you?” you taunt and she gasps and bucks forward. A thrill runs through you. “Getting me all worked up while we’re trying to play a nice little game of mini-golf. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You just need me too bad, right, mommy? If only you could get your cock inside me before cumming.”

Maybe it’s a little too far because she growls behind you and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back to the front. 

“Agatha — wait, what —” 

She whirls around and she looks mad. “We are going to go home,” she seethes, “and I’m going to teach you a fucking lesson about watching your tongue.” You can’t help but feel excited, and it only turns you on more when she barks at the employee who is taking too long to focus on you two so you can return your clubs. 

And then she’s peeling out of the parking lot and going ten over the speed limit to get to your house as quickly as possible. You position yourself so that both your feet are up on the seat with a leg resting against the middle console and the other against the door, and you run two fingers up your clothed slit, making a muffled sound. 

Agatha glances over at you, swears, and then quickly looks back to the road, her face heating up. You chuckle and then your head drops back against the seat when you rub at your clit. “What are you doing?” she asks hoarsely. 

“What does it look like, mommy? I’m touching myself,” you state and her lips part with heavy breaths. “I’m so fucking wet for you.” Your panties are actually soaked and they’re no longer acting as a barrier for your cunt so you’re leaking out the sides of the fabric onto your skirt and upper, inner thighs. 

The car accelerates even more and her hand reaches across to grip onto your knee like she just needs to feel your skin. It makes you clench and even more wetness gushes out of you. You don’t even know how you got to be this much of a mess, but your wife just has a way of making you crazy. 

But you’re not the only one who’s going crazy — a quick peek over the console shows that her cock is straining so much against her pants that you think the fabric might be permanently stretched out. Her cheeks are flushed and her arms are so tightly gripped around the steering wheel that the veins running from her hands all the way up to her shoulders are taunt and blue. You want to lean over and trace them with your tongue. 

A stifled moan slips out of your mouth and her fingernails dig into your thigh, leaving little indentations in your skin. “Mommy, fuck,” you say breathlessly, pressing harder on your clit. “I need you.” 

Agatha fucking whimpers and swerves into the driveway, throws the car into park, and gets out of the car with record speed. You follow her into the foyer, expecting for her to head toward the stairs, but you don’t even make it past the kitchen before she spins around and grabs your cheeks to pull you in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. Her tongue tangles with yours and your moan is swallowed by her, but she pulls away too quickly after biting down on your bottom lip. 

She shoves you against the island and her hand pushes you down onto it and you hiss at the coldness of the surface before she flips your skirt up over your ass and spanks both your buttcheeks hard. 

You whine and jump, lurching forward and your clit throbs. “Mommy,” you cry and the pressure of her hand on your back is gone. You hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt and unzipping her pants and you prop yourself up by your elbows, arch your back to push your ass up even further, and look over your shoulder to watch. 

Agatha takes out her cock, hard and red and already leaking everywhere, and you bite your lip at the sight of her pants still on and parted around her cock. “Fuck, honey, you’re so fucking wet,” she rasps in awe. “I’m gonna have to clean you up a little so you don’t ruin mommy’s good pants.”

She tugs your underwear over your ass, giving it another spank for good measure, and then slides them down your legs so you can step out of them. Agatha kicks your feet apart and you widen your stance so she can thoroughly wipe your wetness off your inner thighs and your cunt. An unrestrained groan slips through her lips and you watch with bated breath as her other hand firmly clasps the base of her cock in an attempt to stop what happened last time to happen again. 

“Sweetheart, fuck,” she says, holding up your underwear to the light and you gasp. You have completely turned the once-light gray fabric dark and it looks like they were just dunked in a bucket of water. Her hips jerk into her hand involuntarily. 

You’re almost entirely overwhelmed and you can feel how swollen and needy your pussy has become. “It’s not my fault, mommy,” you say pathetically. 

She huffs out a laugh, giving her cock one quick stroke. “Oh, I suppose it’s mine?” she mocks. “Cause I was being a ‘pervert’?”

Humming, you nod in agreement, giving her doe-eyes to show her that you’re nothing more than the innocent victim here and her face contorts with pleasure as she ghosts the tip of her cock over your asscheek, getting your skin sticky with precum. 

And then she raises your underwear to her nose and breathes in the scent of you deeply, and it’s like you’re watching in slow motion. 

Her eyelids fly open in a panic, knowing that she just fucked up, and the hand around her cock tightens involuntarily before she makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan, frustrated and furious all the same.

“Fuck — no, fuck,” she curses and her hips shoot forward as she cums, a spurt erupting and pooling on your ass and lower back. She continues to rut back and forth against your asscrack, more cum being pumped out from her pulsing cock, and you gasp at how it feels on your skin. Agatha’s hands grasp onto your hips while she rides out her orgasm, looking very embarrassed, until she finally slows her movements. 

Her spent cock twitches where it’s resting on your ass, one last strand of cum spitting out from the tip. You are in absolute disbelief that she didn’t even make it inside you again and you can feel how covered you are in her cum. It only makes the ache inside you get worse and you clench around nothing, a

An awkward silence settles over the kitchen before you clear your throat. “Well, you got further than last time,” you point out, not even sure if it’s the truth.

Agatha scoffs. “You need to learn how to shut your mouth.” Her eyes light up with an idea and she takes your sopping wet underwear, still clenched between her hand and your hip, and mops up the puddles of rapidly-cooling cum on your back. Your breathing gets heavier, the air seemingly getting thicker, and you think you know what she’s going to do. 

She yanks you off your elbows by your hair and spins you around before balling up your panties and pressing them against your lips before you open wide and she shoves them into your mouth. “Clean them up for me, pretty girl.”

You let out a muffled moan at the overwhelming taste of your pussy and her cum and your eyes roll back into your head. She watches with rapt attention as you move them around as you suck on the wet fabric before she reaches down and slides three fingers into you. 

The sudden fullness has you scrambling to grab onto the countertop behind you and she curls them up inside you deep and rough. You try to say something, maybe a beg, but it comes out garbled and neither of you understand it. 

She sets a bruising pace and your head falls back. You’re so wet there’s a squelching noise with each thrust and her thumb barely gets any friction as it rubs against your clit. You’re reduced to begging with your eyes and incoherent noises but she gets the idea. 

The taste of the two of you mixed together and her fingers filling you so deliciously is dizzying and pleasure is already heating up in your body. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take but the steel in Agatha’s eyes says that you’re going to take it all. 

It’s like she’s overcompensating as she drives her fingers into your wet cunt over and over and it keeps pushing high-pitched keens out of your mouth. Her thumb presses against your clit and you clench tightly around her and Agatha’s rhythm stutters. 

“You feel so good, baby,” she pants. “You’re so fucking hot, making me cum twice before I even get into you.” Your moans get more frantic, hips now bucking to meet her thrusts and get her deeper inside you. “Such a good slut for mommy.” 

She leans closer to suck on your neck and then trails down to your chest, leaving marks in her wake. 

It’s too much — you become overstimulated far too quickly and with a muffled cry, you cum all over her fingers when she twists them roughly inside you with a rough nip to your clavicle. 

Her three fingers still move slowly in and out of you until you wince and she pulls out, leaving a hollow emptiness in your cunt. She fishes the panties out of your mouth before shoving her wet fingers inside and making you clean those off too. Agatha’s cock twitches and she pulls her fingers out of your mouth, smearing your saliva all over your cheeks.

“Fuck,” you say, very out of breath, and she hums in agreement. “I can’t believe you came from practically nothing again.” 

Agatha’s cheeks redden and she rolls her eyes while trying to seem unbothered. “It’s not my fault I have such a hot slut for a wife.” 

You smirk and kiss her mouth, slipping your tongue past her lips so she can taste the combination of both of you. “Well, you know what they say,” you tell her matter-of-factly. She raises an eyebrow. “Third time’s the charm.” 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[youleftmenochoicebut]

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — james potter x reader.

SUMMARY. — the highlights of your relationship with james fleamont potter

PAIRING. — james potter x fem!reader

WARNINGS. — fuck around and find out; use of Y/N; english isn't my first language;

A/N. — so this is inspired by the masterpiece margaret by ldr!! also, first post, yay!!!

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first meeting; 6th year (1976)

"if you're gonna jump, i'd love to see you do a double flip." James' voice sounds out through the cold night air, and you can hear him chuckle as you turn around, eyebrow raised.

okay, you're totally surprised to see him here, way past the curfew, on the top floor of the astronomy tower while the wind whooshes rather lightly for the winter season. of course you know who he is, everyone at hogwarts knows him and his group of friends, the marauders. but, being a ravenclaw who doesn't stuck their nose in other people's business, you never had the pleasure of being a victim to one of their pranks.

"i'm not jumping." you reply after a moment, stepping away from the edge as you throw the muggle cigarette you'd been smoking to the floor, stomping it out. you reach your hand up, brushing your hair behind your ears, and for a while you two just stare at each other.

"everyone's already packing for the christmas break." he murmurs, adjusting the glasses sitting on his nose, a smirk playing on his lips and he strolls closer to you, leaning back against the railing. "you're going home, or not?"

your brows furrow, nose crinkling, as you eye him up and down suspiciously. you're pretty sure it's a bad omen that James Potter approached you just like that, out of the blue, but you decide to humor him anyway.

"no, i... i'm staying here." you answer his question, biting down on your lower lip, and you look away with a shrug. "don't you have a game tomorrow, Potter?"

"i do, Y/N. what, you gonna come?" James pushes his hands inside the pockets of his pajama pants, smiling at you, raising his eyebrow. you don't even try to ask how he knows your name, you probably don't want to know either way.

you shake your head and chuckle, the air escaping your mouth looking like smoke in the freezing weather. "quidditch isn't really my thing." you respond, and you chew on your words for a beat before adding. "catch the snitch for me, huh?"

he seems taken aback for a quick second, but lightens up soon enough, and nods eagerly. like a golden retriever, you think. with that thought, you take off, waving him goodbye as you swiftly disappear down the staircase.

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first date; 6th year (1977)

you stand in front of the only mirror in your dorm, most of your dormmates already out and about except for Sage, who's sitting on her bed and watching you closely as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

"i look ridiculous." you groan, tugging down the tiny skirt of your outfit, glancing back at Sage. the dress is from a muggle friend of yours, apparently very in fashion now as she stated in her letter, but you can't feel more out of your element. it's not that you don't like clothes like that, it's just that you almost never wear them.

however, you're getting ready for a date with the James Potter, and you want to look your best. oh, and it's Valentine's Day, so you want to somehow prove to everyone who'll see you that you're worthy of James.

"you look great, stop whining." Sage rolls her eyes, munching on her chocolate frog, and she scratches her cat behind his ear.

you sigh, nodding at your friend's aggressive approval, then grab your bag, quickly putting your wand into it, and you saunter over to Sage's bed. you kiss her forehead, chuckling when you hear her let out an ew.

you leave your dormitory, run down the stairs, then sigh again as you get out of the common room, bracing yourself at the challenge of getting to the end of the staircase. and so it takes you some time, time that you spend overthinking almost every interaction you had with James in the two months you have known each other.

when you finally arrive at your meeting spot, your hair's all messed up and tousled, your eyes bloodshot from the wind and lips dry from constantly licking them. instead of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop or the Three Broomsticks, James insisted on you two meeting here. in the Hogwarts grounds, near the Great Lake. usually, even during that time of the year, the grounds were full of students. but now, they're clear, except for a big red blanket on the snowy grass, with James sitting down there. there must be some spell casted around that area that keeps it warm, because James doesn't have his coat on. you approach him with a smile, dropping down next to him, and the heat hits you, making you loose your jacket soon.

for a moment, James just stares at you, mouth agape, his eyes shimmering with pure happiness. "you're beautiful." he breathes out as you nervously tug down your skirt, and a chuckle escapes your lips.

"thank you." your smile widens, and you look at the picnic basket he prepared, smelling the freshly baked cookies and the two bottles of juice. he notices your eyes wandering, his hand reaching out and grabbing a strand of your hair, untangling it gently.

"uh... i made the cookies myself." he murmurs, and when he meets your amused gaze, he shakes his head. "yeah, no i didn't. i asked the kitchen elves to make them. but they were more than happy to do it!"

you laugh heartily, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks at his touch, his hand dropping down and resting over your wrist.

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first fight; 6th year (1977)

exam season is really fucking with you this year. after last year's OWLs you really thought i'd be easier this year, but clearly not. you're running low on sleep, nourishment, and your patience. almost every waking moment you're spending in classes, doing your assignments or studying in the library with Lily and the other gryffindor girls with whom you've become quite close ever since you started dating James.

well, when it comes to James himself, you haven't seen him much lately. and when you do, it mostly goes one way with you doing both of your homework while James watches you with hearts in the place of pupils, and leaves kisses and touches all over your body.

it's 9.30pm on friday when you're making your way back to your common room after yet another study session in the library, being one of few students out in the hallways at this time. you turn round the corner, your body collapsing against someone else's, and you end up on the floor on your ass. a yelp escapes your mouth, and when you look up ready to shout at the idiot in your way, you realize it's your idiot.

"you look like hell, sweetheart." James smirks, glancing down at you as he leans in with outstretched hand, helping you up smoothly. you let out a huff, rolling your eyes, annoyed out of your goddamn mind, and you step away.

"wow, James, thank you. that's just what a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend after a shitty day." you murmur, wanting to just go past him, because you can feel your temper run short already. but of course, James being James, doesn't allow you to do so. he grasps your wrist as you try to pass him by, and you yank away the moment you feel his hand on yours. "sod off!" you hold your books closer to your chest, frowning momentarily.

"you've been ignoring me, Y/N." he says quietly, and it's probably the first time you hear him so serious and toned down. "i'm trying, i'm making effort, and you're acting like studying is the only thing that matters."

"because, right now, it is! it is to me!" you raise your voice, your hand clasping at the material of your shirt, and you shake your head. "i've been slacking off the whole spring because of you, and now i have all this shit to catch up. i don't have time for nonsense."

you don't even realize the blow that your words are to James, too sleep-deprived to notice the way his lips purse or how he almost seems to physically hurt at your statement.

"is that all you think we are? nonsense?" he whispers, ruffling his curls in an anxious gesture. "cause if that's the case, then i'll stop bothering you."

"no, James, you know that's not what i meant." you groan, shaking your head, and you step closer to him. "i'm sorry. i'm just so constantly tired and... sorry."

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ first 'i love you'; summer of 1977

the sun is hitting your body in all the right angles, a cigarette dangling between your lips, as you lay on your back, on the jetty while the boys play in the water. you, Remus, and Peter have spend the past week at the Potter manor with James and Sirius, and James' parents. it's mid july, summer in all its glory, and you try to live it to the fullest.

you squeal and open your eyes the moment you feel drops of water fall all over you, and you're met with James' athletic figure right in front of you. he kneels down, face to face with you, quickly taking the cigarette from you and taking a drag. rolling your eyes, you sit up, pushing his shoulder playfully. you watch the rest of the marauders with a small smile on your face, Peter standing in the most shallow point of the lake and sipping on some fire whiskey, Sirius and Remus making out with only their heads visible out of the water. James rests his chin on your shoulder, one arm wrapping around your waist and tugging you closer against his chest, and you glance up at him through half-lidded eyes, observing the way he blows out the smoke.

"i love you." you whisper suddenly, as if the thought just struck you, your hand raising to push his glasses up his nose, and you lean in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"yeah?" he replies, his voice having that cocky edge to it, but you can see his heart truly explode, eyes full of love. "i love you, sweetheart."

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ engagement; fall of 1978

after a whole day of unpacking boxes and moving (using magic) furniture around, both you and James are truly exhausted. you’ve just moved into your first house together, having lived with James’ parents for the summer, and despite needing some renovations you are able to live in it without a problem.

as James takes a break on the couch, probably reading this month’s Quidditch Times, you’re trying to cook something for dinner. you’ve decided you don’t want to have a house elf, neither yours or James’ family ever had one, and you two aren’t changing that. but, that means you have to learn how to cook. which actually turns out to be quite the challenge.

two burnt lasagna-lookalikes in, you give up, your face red and eyes filled with frustrated tears. casting a quick cleaning spell, you leave the kitchen and head to the living room, expecting to see James there. but the space is empty.

„Jamie?” you shout out, looking around with a frown gracing your soft features, and after a moment of listening in, you hear him cursing somewhere outside.

and so, with your hands on your hips, already sure he’d just fucked something up, you make your way outside to your garden, through the living room backdoor. you’re immediately taken aback when you see daisy petals just laying around on the grass and it takes you a second to realize it’s a path. growing more and more suspicious you follow it, and it leads you to the small pond in the further corner of the backyard. the rocks around the pond are covered with lit up candles, and James is on one knee next to the wooden bench.

„hi, sweetheart.” he murmurs with a smile, holding a small velvet box in his hand, and as you come closer, you can see the tears already prickling in the corners of his eyes. he opens the box swiftly and the ring nestled inside must be the most beautiful rock you have ever seen. „i… i had a whole speech prepared, you know. about- well, you. us. but right now, looking at you, i cannot remember shit of what i wanted to say. the only thing i do know, and i always will, is that i want to look at you for the rest of my life. i want to see you smile, i want to make you laugh, i want to wipe your tears away. every single day. so, Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

you drop to your knees almost instantly, a sob escaping you as you’re at eye lever with him, and you just nod. you nod, over and over, letting your tears run down your cheeks, knowing that if you speak you’ll break down completely. James knows that too, and he silently slips the ring onto your waiting finger, bringing your hand to his lips and planting a soft kiss on each finger.

„oh, and before you say anything, i call dibs on the wedding date.” he whispers and you chuckle, pushing your lips against his before responding.

„yeah? so what’s the date?” you tilt your head, just staring at him with the stupidest smile on your face, with tear stained cheeks. you two look like idiots, kneeling in the dewed grass, but honestly you don’t care.

„december 18th.” James replies, clearly proud of himself for the mere idea, and his hands cup your face, thumbs brushing the tears away. „the day we met.”

๋࣭ ⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭ pregnancy; winter of 1980

you’re laying on your shared bed, fingers tapping against the huge curvature of your stomach, feeling your baby kick furiously inside you. you’re waiting for James to come home from work, as you’re already on bed rest, only two weeks away from your due date (which is january 31st)

you’ve been bored out of your fucking mind for the last few days, James putting in more hours at work before he has to take paternity leave when the baby comes, and everything in the house being all done and finished. everything babyproofed, nursery set up and ready, every single thing you could own for a newborn, you have. the only thing that’s left for you is resting and looking pretty, as James had said one evening.

your neck practically snaps from how fast you turn your head the moment you hear James apparate outside your house. you groan, quickly moving your hand to massage the back of your neck, and in just a few minutes James is standing in the doorway to your bedroom, a tired but oh so happy smile on his face.

„hi there, mama.” he mutters softly, dropping his suitcase and his wand onto the desk, getting onto the bed right away. he reaches out, tugging your shirt up to expose your big baby bump that’s covered with stretch marks, and leans in, placing kisses all over your belly. „and hi there, lad or gal. i hope you’ve been good to your mom today. daddy had a long day, you know.”

you smile, running your fingers through James’ curls as he rests his chin on your stomach, hands rubbing at your skin there, eyes set on your protruding belly button. you love when he tells you about his day in that way, talking to the baby about it, a habit you both created somewhere in your fifth month of the pregnancy, when you started showing more and more clearly.

„yeah? anything interesting happen today?” you ask quietly, gently playing with his hair, your tired gaze set on his face at all times.

„i won a bet with Sirius, which one of us would catch the most death eaters in an outing.” he hums after a beat, tapping his finger against your stomach, and both of you chuckle when the baby kicks so hard you can see its tiny foot stretch your skin. „yeah, your uncle Padfoot lost a bet. loser. daddy’s the best at what he’s doing, baby Potter.”

„merlin, you’re teaching our baby unhealthy rivalization and it’s not even born yet.” you roll your eyes, tugging at the ends of his hair teasingly, while he bats his eyelashes up at you.

„after all, they’re a Potter.” he murmurs lovingly, looking at your round and puffy from all the baby weight face as if he’s seen an angel, and he swears to himself that he’s falling in love with you over and over again every time he looks at you. „it’s in their genes, sweetheart.”

[itneverendshere]

for bitchy pogue reader I'd love some actual introductions to Topper and Kelce after the golf course, they can be huge assholes but we've seen a nicer side to both of them. So Rafe trying to see if group hanging out *is* possible, and it's probably very weird but maybe it works out?

it's not working out just yet....but maybe! soon! thank you for the request💗

get your head in the game

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you think you had too many shots before leaving the house.

alright, so maybe the vodka was overkill. maybe. but you knew you’d need a little courage to pull off this top that’s basically a vague suggestion of a shirt. the whole thing's simple math—tight skirt, low-cut top, a flick of lip gloss, and, boom, everyone else is irrelevant.

if you wanted, you could have any guy here eating out of the palm of your hand. so why the fuck did you dress thinking about rafe when you’re supposed to distance yourself from that asshole? no idea.

the bonfire’s huge tonight, lighting up all the faces you couldn’t care less about.

you can feel him, hovering somewhere nearby. he’s in that faded sweatshirt he always wears when it’s colder out, the one that smells like salt and smoke and way too many of your bad nights. mister pouty face himself, sulking around the fire, watching you with this look that says he knows he messed up but doesn’t even know where to start patching things over.

you turn your back on him for the millionth time that night, let your hips sway just a little extra, knowing he’s watching. yeah, you’re putting on a show, all right—flicking your hair, laughing louder than you need to. 

you’re just reaching for a beer when you feel hands slide around your waist, and you almost jump out of your skin, but then you catch that familiar, maddening scent of his and your body goes all traitorous, leaning back against him before you snap out of it.

"jesus,” you’re already twisting out of his clasp, turning around, and there he is, standing like he didn’t just sneak up on you with those stupid blue eyes and that stupid, lopsided grin. 

you want to shove him away, but he’s got that look, like he’s begging for a chance without saying a word, and you hate how much it gets to you.

your head had been a mess since that day at the golf course.

“what do you want?” you ask, arms crossed, brows up, giving him that full-on don’t mess with me look.

“to talk,” he’s close, way too close, looking down at you like he’s trying to read every little twitch of your face as if he can just stand there and make things better by breathing the same air.

his hands are still hovering around your waist, like he’s waiting for permission to touch you again. part of you wants to let him, but you just narrow your eyes, tilting your chin.

“aren’t you afraid your little friends are gonna see you?” you edge him on, “talking to a pogue?”

“don’t start,” he says, you can see the pleading in his eyes as he reaches for your waist again, fingertips brushing your hip, like he can’t stand not touching you for another second.

“why not?”

he winces, dropping his hand back to his side, and it’s almost pathetic, how he’s just standing there, not even pretending to defend himself. “i—c’mon, i already apologized—”

you roll your eyes, not trying to hide the smirk pulling at your lips. 

“apologized?” you let out a bitter laugh, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “oh, yeah, that makes up for all the times you acted like i didn’t exist.”

his face crumples, and you can see him struggling, his hand drifting toward your hip again, but he hesitates like he’s afraid he’s about to get slapped away.

it’s almost sad, mr. big shot practically pussy-whipped.

“c’mon, don’t do this,” he murmurs, stepping closer until you can feel the warmth of him. his fingertips ghost along your bare arm, like he’s desperate just to feel you. 

you scoff, leaning back against the cooler, crossing your arms in front of you as his hand slides to your waist, bold and pleading all at once. his touch is warm, and you hate how your body responds like it’s a prayer, like you've been waiting all night for him to finally show up.

“there’s some people i want you to meet.”

his thumb brushes the skin just above your waistband, and he’s so close you can feel his breath against your cheek.

“what?” you huff in annoyance, lifting your chin up as he inches closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck.

you feel his thumb grazing your skin back and forth, his lips so close you can taste the desperation in his breath.

perhaps it’s the vodka, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you but you feel yourself softening, just a little, against your will.

“my friends.”

you didn’t hear him right. 

his friends? the same friends who wouldn’t even look at you if you walked past them in town? the same friends he’d all but hid you from for months?

“what?” you ask, slower this time, more disbelief than anything, and you tilt your head up to get a better look at him. 

he’s got that kicked puppy look in his eyes, and you’re not even sure what to make of it.

this is rafe cameron, the guy who wouldn’t be caught dead with you outside the bedroom, now practically begging to introduce you to his kook buddies?

“i want them to know,” his voice trails off, “i want them to know ‘m with you.”

“with me?” you repeat, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “since when?”

this can’t be real—this can’t be the same rafe who couldn’t even look you in the eye outside his house three months ago.

“i told you, the other day at the golf course.”

you stare at him like he’s stupid, “you mean, when you went alpha on those little frat boys?”

“i saved you from them, okay.” 

you’re seconds away from outright laughter when he just keeps looking at you with those fucking pleading eyes, that hand grazing your cheek in a way that should be soft but instead feels like he’s trying to imprint himself into your skin.

why the fuck is this so endearing to you.

he sounds almost earnest—almost. but you’re not giving him an inch, not after months of him acting like he didn’t know your name outside of his bedroom. 

“what do you mean, ‘saved me’?” you raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. “saved me from what? a little attention?”

rafe lets out a rough exhale, glancing down with a frustrated shake of his head.

“they were hitting on you,” he mutters, his hand tightening on your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of every single inch of his hold on you. “and ‘m not gonna stand around and watch some asshole get his hands all over what’s mine.”

mine?  he’s really lost it. 

“country club, i don’t know if you hit your head golfing and this is some post-head trauma hallucination, but ‘mine’ implies you want something more than whatever the fuck this is.” you motion between the two of you, throwing a hand up in exasperation.

“why don’t you ever call me by my name?” he grumbles, just like he did the other day on the golf course. he lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “except when—”

your mouth drops open. is he serious? this shit again?

“except when what?” you glare at him as you swat his chest. 

he’s got that smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“you only call me rafe when,” his voice drops deliciously, and he leans in close, eyes half-lidded and fixed on your lips. “…when ’m inside you.”

“shut up,” you hiss, smacking his chest again, but he doesn’t move. instead, his smirk grows as he catches your wrist and holds it, letting his fingers trace over your knuckles.

before you can retort, there’s a loud cackle from behind you.

you turn, and there they are: topper and kelce, both looking like they’ve stumbled into a parallel universe.

“whoa, what’s this?” topper’s smirk is almost as wide as rafe’s. “didn’t know our boy here had himself a—” he raises his eyebrows, letting the word hang with a smug twist of his mouth. kelce snickers, crossing his arms, eyes darting between you and rafe.

you’re already huffing, half-prepared to watch rafe put on his usual bad boy with daddy issues mask, toss out some stupid excuse, or worse—let them think you’re just a fucking hole to him.

rafe gives your waist an extra squeeze, fingers pressing into your side as if he’s staking a claim.

“this,” he says, clearing his throat like he’s about to announce something official, “is my girlfriend.”

you blink, utterly thrown, and from the look on their faces, topper and kelce are right there with you, both staring at rafe like he’s just grown an extra head.

“your what?” kelce sputters out, eyes widening, clearly expecting the punchline.

you open your mouth to say something snarky, make some joke out of this whole ridiculous scene, but rafe’s fingers are tracing slow, warm circles against your hip and you can’t think straight to save your life.

god, old you would’ve ridiculed yourself for being putty in the hands of a kook of all people. 

“girlfriend,” he repeats, like he’s spelling it out just for them. “want you both to meet her.”

you swear kelce’s jaw drops, while topper lets out a low, incredulous laugh. tweedledum and tweedledee at their best.

“you’re serious,” topper mutters, giving you a once-over and shaking his head in disbelief. “i thought she was just a—”

“yeah, ’m serious,” rafe cuts in, his tone brooking no argument.

you must’ve missed the part where you two talked about this thing like adults and he proceeded to ask you. 

“your what?” you bite out, as you try to wrench his arm away, but his grip only tightens, he’s prepared for a full-on wrestle if it keeps you there.

“hey—will you just stay here?” he murmurs, voice low enough that it’s just for you. 

you’d throw something at him if you could. you yank his hand away anyway, tearing yourself free from his grip. “stay? are you kidding?”

you’re already storming off into the crowd, but you still hear kelce behind you, their voices , “that went well.”

rafe curses under his breath, but you just keep walking, not looking back, even as you can feel him running after you, those long legs of his making it easy to catch up.

“wait! seriously, wait!”

 like hell you’re going to let him off the hook so easily.

“not happening!” you shout over your shoulder. 

you could turn around and give him one last piece of your mind, but a part of you knows it’ll only lead to more hurt feelings—yours or his. you push through a group of people huddled around the bonfire, and it’s only when you reach the edge of the beach that you finally stop, trying to catch your breath.

“why do you always do this?” rafe’s voice comes from behind you. you don’t turn around, knowing that if you see that look on his face, you might just give in.

“do what?” you shoot back, crossing your arms defensively.

“run away,” he almost whines, taking a step closer, and you can hear the frustration in the way his throat tightens up, “you never give me a chance to explain.”

“explain what? that you want me to be your girlfriend when two weeks ago, you couldn’t even look at me in front of your friends?” you spin to face him, “this is ridiculous.”

rafe opens his mouth, probably to defend himself, but the look on your face shuts any attempt down.

“i asked you to stay.”

you groan, itching to pull your hair out, “what are you talkin’ about?”

“that night, i asked you to stay.”

“and proceeded to ignore me the next day, yes, i’m well fuckin’ aware.”

you want him to feel a sliver of what he’s put you through, but he just steps closer, almost like he’s trying to coax you back.

“i was trying to figure things out,” he says, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. “it’s not easy, alright?”

“were you incredibly tortured by the thought of letting your friends know you were slumming it with a ‘pogue’? please.”

“what, you really think i don’t care about you?” he’s pleading now, his face just inches from yours. “because if you don’t know that by now, then i don’t know what else i can do.”

you laugh bitterly. Is he actually serious?

“you can grow a fucking pair. where was this brave, ‘caring’ version of you last week? or the week before that?” you throw a hand up, trying to make him see how obvious this all is. “when you could’ve just acted like a man and told your friends instead of pretending i was some embarrassing secret.”

“’m trying to fix that,” he says, his desperate, “right here, right now.”

“and ’m supposed to just forget the way you treated me all those times?”

“can you just let me try to be better?”

you swallow, biting your lip. he’s closer now, and you can smell that familiar cologne and saltwater.

“it’s gonna take more than a few pretty words.”

“i know,” he says, nodding like he’s promising you something. “that’s why i want you to meet my friends, why i want them to know ’m with you.” his fingers finally, lace with yours, and he looks down at your hands, “i want to do this right.”

you stare down at his hand in yours, and for a second, yeah, your heart stutters, betraying every ounce of pride you’ve tried to keep intact through this whole mess.

this is rafe we’re talking about. kook royalty, king of mixed signals, the guy who’s too proud to admit when he’s wrong, especially when his boys are watching. the guy smells good, he looks like sin, and he’s saying all the things you’ve wanted to hear since day one.

a few weeks ago, you’d have laughed at the idea of ever feeling anything real for him. you, a pogue with a mouth on you, and him, a kook with daddy issues and an ego bigger than his bank account. but here you are, letting him pull this romantic shit on you.

is he actually worth all this? you could do better; you know that.

you could have someone who doesn’t make you feel like an option, someone who’s not constantly forcing you to guess what the hell he wants.

the real question is, do you actually believe he’s gonna change? or is this just another moment of him saying whatever he has to so he doesn’t lose the convenience of you?

you huff, half-scoffing, half-sighing, because honestly, maybe he does sound genuine for once, and maybe a part of you wants to believe him so badly you could actually throw your whole life away. 

“prove it then,” you say it like you’re daring him. “day by day. if you’re serious, you’ll show me. and you’ll handle your idiot friends in the process.”

“deal.”

you raise a brown, “you’re not gonna think about it?”

he shrugs, “nothin’ to think about.”

you roll your eyes, because that line should be cheesy, but it lands. he really has no right to be this good at disarming you with a few well-placed words. and the worst part? he knows it. 

“can i kiss you?”

of course he'd say something like that. of course, after all the back-and-forth, the pushing and pulling, he’d just stand there and ask to kiss you like everything’s solved.

you sigh, tilting your head like you’re seriously considering it. "you think a kiss is gonna make me forget every dumb shit you did?"

he smirks, all cocky confidence, but he knows he’s on thin ice. “nah, but i figured it’d be a start.”

you almost hate him for making it sound so tempting, you wish it didn't feel this good to be wanted.

you shake your head, resisting the impulse to let him off easy, but how he’s looking at you… ugh. you can’t help it, you’re thinking with your pussy at this point.

"fine," you say, trying to sound annoyed even as your heart's practically pounding out of your chest. "one kiss, no tongue.”

his mouth actually drops open, and he's staring at you like you’ve just told him he can only have one fry out of the whole basket.

"no tongue?" he repeats, eyebrows practically hitting his hairline. he's doing this thing where his mouth opens and closes like he’s a fucking fish, "wait, please—what do you mean, no tongue?"

you only just manage to keep a straight face, because fuck, this is killing him, and it’s almost cute.

"exactly what i said," you nodd, crossing your arms with this wicked little smirk. "you wanted a kiss. you get one.”

he’s looking at you like you insulted his entire lineage, "c’mon, just a little tongue. you know you wann—"

“absolutely not,” you wrinkle your nose, laughing as you cut him off. maybe you do, but this is way more fun, watching him squirm.

“fine,” he groans, moving in close, the glint in his eye tells you he’s about to break all the rules the second he’s got you there. he leans in, almost sulking, and you feel him press a single, very tame, very tongue-free kiss to your lips, “so... no tongue later either? when ’m between your legs? 'cause i’d hate to break your rules.”

son of a bitch.

it’s useless to act unaffected when he’s looking at you like that.

“pull that shit again, rafe, and you’re getting blue balls for the next month.”

he looks scandalized, that smirk dropping as he watches you with wide, pleading eyes. “you wouldn’t.”

“play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

his jaw drops a little like he can’t decide whether to laugh or fall to his knees and beg for mercy. “you’re seriously cruel, y’know that?”

“course i do.”

[authorhjk1]

Does this light blue-ish outfit on Yuna considered as dress? If yes, hopefully you can make something based on this, sorry for the back to back asks too author😅. Keep up the great work and take care👋

Sky Blue

(Shin Yuna X Male Reader)

Yuna is easy. In more ways than one. But one of them is definitely the one you thought of first. She is fun, easygoing, a sunshine. But whenever you even look at her the wrong way, Yuna is already on her knees, her mouth wide open.

You're not her her husband, or boyfriend, or even friend for that matter. And you doubt that Yuna sees anything in you. Well, except for your ability to make her scream.

That's why she is now standing in front of your apartment, wearing some sort of blue dress and white over knee boots. You don't know if she just finished performing or not. Itzy isn't your favorite girl group. And you don't follow Yuna. But you still see almost just as many stage outfits of hers than her fans.

"Are you going to let me stand here all night?"

Yuna can sometimes, on rare occasions, turn a little bratty. When she is needy and she can't get off immediately is one of them.

"Get in. You know where it is."

Yuna quickly steps inside and you close the door.

Five minutes later, Yuna is on your bed on all fours. She arches her back like she always does, slightly elevating her ass. She probably had safety shorts on during her performance, but they're already gone. Her skirt barely covers her ass.

Your cock is still wet from the blowjob she just gave you, but it won't be enough for what the two of you have in mind. The small bottle is almost empty, even before you start pouring the clear liquid onto your cock.

You kneel behind Yuna and push her skirt up. Her beautiful ass is right in front of you. You caress her cheeks, before letting some of the cold liquid drop between them. You catch it with your finger, right at her rear entrance. It slips inside, making Yuna let out a deep moan. Soon, a second finger joins. You finger her ass, making Yuna whine.

"Please, I need it. Please."

Yuna begs for you to fuck her. You align yourself with her entrance and push past the ring of muscles. You both groan in union as you both feel something different, but still the same. Pleasure washes through both of your bodies as you start to fuck Yuna's ass.

It has become much easier, compared to the first time. While her tight grip has stayed the same, her ability to let loose makes it so much better.

You take a fistful of her red hair, making her raise her head, which was hanging between her shoulders just moments ago.

"Please. Be as rough me with me as you want. I need it."

Yuna whines more the harder you fuck her. She can't get enough of your cock inside her ass. How she feels so full. How you stretch out her hole. How your length glides along her inner walls.

As you keep thrusting into her, the lube makes it easier to slide in and out. It was just a liquid at first, but you probably poured too much. Some of it is now sticking to Yuna's delicious cheeks and your hips. Whenever you move back, long silver strings connect the both of you. And when you push forward, it sounds wetter, her cheeks jiggling with every thrust.

"Fuck, Yuna. How are you still this tight?"

"It's just for you."

Yuna moans, her response leaving her mouth in small portions, interrupted by her lewd whines.

"I'm so tight only for your cock."

You start to lean over her and Yuna's upper body leans closer towards the bed. Eventually, her face is buried in your sheets. Her arms have moved to her side and you can see how her hands are holding onto her heels. Yuna's ass is at an even better angle than before.

Instead of thrusting forward, you're almost thrusting downward now. Her tight ass is just a hole for you to fuck. It feels like her whole body is made for sex. It's made to please you. And that's the only thing Yuna wants. She doesn't just get off by you fucking her ass. It's the fact that you use her ass like a cheap cumdump. That's what turns her on the most.

And you're about to fill her up again.

"Fuck, Yuna!"

Your hands have moved to her waist, but her moans are still muffled by your sheets. She can feel your cock throbbing inside of her. She can feel how you use all the power that's left inside of you, to ruin her ass. She can feel how your thrusts go deeper than before.

"Yes, breed my ass! Please!"

You climax, when Yuna begs you to cum inside. Your cum quickly fills up her asshole. It's warmth spreads through her body. Since she is in a downward position, she can feel how your seed flows deeper into her body.

"Stay like this."

After collecting yourself from this intense orgasm, you slowly pull out of her. You watch how Yuna's asshole opens and closes and opens again. Her body longs for your cock, even after you just filled her with your cum.

As always, Yuna lifts one of her hands and covers her ass, making sure her body isn't pushing anything of your precious cum out of her. You reach for your nightstand and pull out a butt plug. You have so many of them, since Yuna comes by so often. She either already wears them, or the two of you play around a little on days where you have more time.

But every single session ends like this. You take out one of the glass ones. It has pink sparkles on it, which reflect the light of your lamp. You usually like to go for something with writing on it, but Yuna took the last one home two days ago.

You kneel behind her once more and start to push the glass object inside her ass. Expect for an initial whimper, Yuna takes the butt plug with practiced ease.

Now your cum is secured. Deep inside her ass.

[taelortot]

The sun and the moon part zero

Walk with me for a second, yeah? So I was thinking, which is always a bad idea (according to my mother).

College student Megumi and his bimbo girlfriend would be a perfect match. At first It definitely threw his friends and passerby’s through a loop. He’s wearing all black with his little scene haircut, resting bitch face, looking angry at the world. While his dressed in all pink, short skirt, crop top, 5 inch heels girlfriend holds his hand, skipping down the campus sidewalk. She’s talking his ear off in that high pitched voice, a voice that megumi refuses to say he’s in love with. She giggles and bounces, making her tits nearly pop out of her top. She would smack her bubblegum and blow obnoxiously large bubbles just because she can. Begging her boyfriend for iced coffee with a “pleeaaseee gumiiiii” a small pout on her lips “I neeeed it” and who is he to say no to that cute little face? Those glossy pouty lips that he loves to kiss, tasting her cherry flavored lipgloss.

And he would never ever admit it, but god he nearly melts like a popsicle on a summer day when she calls him “Gumi”. He wouldn’t even make a noise as he nod his head, pulling out his wallet and paying for her daily coffee. A slight upturn to one side of his lips as he listens to her squeal with excitement.

The attitude was a different story. Megumi had his own way of dealing with her attitude, and y/n would love it. Always pushing his buttons to see how much she could get away with. Megumi didn’t mind it as much as his friends thought he would. Simply giving a a single look would put her in her place. A look that said “shut the fuck up before I make you”. A single look that y/n knew, she knew if she didn’t stop whatever she was doing, there would be a punishment waiting for her when they got back home. And as much as y/n loves punishments, she loved to be praised more. But!!!! On the off day that she was feeling a little risky, she would ignore Megumis look. Pushing his buttons, doing anything she could to get a reaction from him.

But our dear gumi would didn’t care who was watching, not one bit. Taking his thick, large hand and wrapping it around his small girlfriend’s pretty little neck. Giving her enough of a squeeze, along with a deadly look in his eyes, to stop whatever antagonizing behavior his little girl was doing. “You want to continue, baby?” He would ask, his voice low and full of threats he would most definitely follow through with. A small whimper would fall from those pretty little lips, testing every little bit of control the man has. A small shake to her head was enough to appease him, tightening his grip for just a second before releasing her. He would turn back to whatever he was doing as if he just didn’t do the most dominating thing he could to his girlfriend right in front of his friends.

It would leave y/n a little pouty (and a little damp), but that wasn’t anything megumi couldn’t fix with a chaste kiss to her lips… and her other pretty little lips.

“Where’s that attitude now, baby? Huh?” He would ask in a teasing voice, hands kneading the delicious fat of her thighs. “M’sorry gumi” she would whine, pushing her hips up, trying to get him where she needed him. But the action would earn her pretty little clit a slap. Two maybe.

“I don’t think you’re that sorry, pretty girl.” “M’sorry m’sorrryy pleaseee please gumi” he knew she was sorry, he knows his baby hates punishments. Always wanting him to worship the ground she walks on, which he does most days.

“Good girl, now lay back and let me do my thing, yeah baby?” His eyes locked with hers, waiting for that desperate little nod she does when she is begging for him to please her. Which he does, devouring her pussy like it’s his last meal. Growling into her as he tastes that sweet little cunt. It’s probably his favorite thing to do, getting on his knees, letting his tongue fuck her cute little hole. Sucking gently on her clit, because his girl is sensitive. Listening to her cute pathetic whines as she pulls his black hair, guiding him. Which he lets her do, allowing her to take all the control she thinks she has. It would be so sloppy, his tongue making lazy, languid circles around her tiny clit. Juices coating his face, nose to chin. Spit mixing with her arousal as he moans into her pussy, because this is also a treat for him. The pad of his fingers playing with her puckered hole, because one day “m’gonna stretch this pretty little ass.”

But don’t get it twisted, Megumi Fushiguro, is absolutely whipped for his pretty little bimbo girlfriend. Kissing the ground where she walks, carrying her favorite bubblegum around just in case she forgets hers. And he would never have an issue with all the guys on campus ogling his girl. Only because he’s heard y/n say “my boyfriends gonna kick your ass” to several guys who hit on her, which he does do. Megumi knows for a fact that his pretty girlfriend is so in love with him, so he has no insecurities when it comes to her. Grabbing a handful of tits when he sees a frat dude looking at her chest. Sitting her in his lap to makeout in the library when she’s supposed to be studying. Being so in love with this girl he didn’t even know a year ago.

He thanks his friend Satoru Gojo for fumbling this bad bitch, every single day. It’s not really gojo fault though, he tried to hit on her… but y/n likes the silently cocky bad boys. And Megumi is just that.

But Megumi would absolutely die if anyone found out he paints her toenails for her, giving soft kisses to the tops of her feet when he’s done. Only to hear that pretty little giggle he loves so much.

I want to write a whole fic about this. Something you’ll learn about me is that I LOVE LOVE LOVE to write y/n as a dumb bimbo. And that I shall do :)

Taglist

@vellichor01 @loveyislost

[touyasdoll]

After Class

pairing: professor!Gojo x student!reader (fem)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: inappropriate power dynamics, professor kink, power play, cum eating, oral (f!receiving), reader is wearing a thong and a skirt, semi public sex, rough sex, let me know if I missed any

notes: turns out I can still write smut, I think. hope you enjoy <3

"My next class is in 20 minutes, gorgeous," Satoru coos in your ear, grinding the tent in his slacks against your thinly clad pussy, only concealed by the fabric of your cotton thong beneath your skirt.

"You should hurry up and fuck me then already. I don't wanna keep you, professor," you purr, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you drop your hips back.

A moan leaves your lungs as you grind on his length just right, sending a shiver along your spine as your soaked cunt clenches around nothing.

He does love to tease, but he doesn't have the luxury of time today and he knows it. He's also so hard that it's beginning to hurt and the noises coming from you only make it worse.

"I want to keep you though," he whispers smoothly as he drapes himself across your back, lowering himself on his long arms to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

He nips at it, reaching down to free himself from his pants before he flips your skirt up and hooks a finger into the thin strip of cotton separating him from what he's after.

Should he be fucking a student? No.

Does he care when his cock is buried inside you though? Also no.

"M'all yours for the next 19 minutes, baby. Make 'em count," you say as you reach over to grab onto the edge of the desk as you shake your ass.

"You're gonna be mine for a lot longer, princess," he replies as he glides the head of his dick against your folds, letting your juices soak the tip before he slowly sinks inside of you.

A groan pulls from him as your breathless gasp echoes back at your from the surface of the large wooden desk. He's so big it's mind numbing. Even when he takes his time.

"Fuck, Satoru," you breathe his name out, whimpering when he starts to move.

He slowly draws his hips back, the motion occuring in time with the handsome smirk spreading across his face, which only portrays a fraction of the insanity this man is able to convey.

"I'd love to hear you say my name when I'm not inside you. It sounds so good on your tongue," he says as he stands tall and grabs your hips, rolling his own at a steady pace.

"It'd probably make me hard anyway," he continues as he suddenly picks up the tempo, gripping your hips hard enough to threaten to leave bruises in the wake of his long fingers as his thrusts start to jostle your entire frame.

You cry out, wholly overwhelmed by the sensations flooding your entire body. It's easy to forget just how good it feels when you're with him until you find yourself here again, drowning in him while his cock drowns in you.

You grip the edge of the desk tighter, clinging to it as the two of you both struggle not to grow too loud for fear of alerting someone passing by in the hall to your illicit activities.

"Holy shit, you feel so fucking good, baby," he growls through grit teeth, colliding with you at an almost unnatural pace as his cock grows impossibly harder inside of you. "So tight. S'like your pussy doesn't wanna let me go."

You wish you could respond, but you can't. Not with the way it feels like he's threatening to puncture your lungs with every unforgiving shift of his hips. It's all you can do to hang on while the pressure inside of you grows with each passing second.

You do respond with a cry, one of pure pleasure. Your nails press hard into the wood, clutching despertely like it's your only tether to this realm, because it is. The euphoria coursing through you, promising that it will overcome you, is so all encompassing that it nearly blinds you; it strikes you dumb.

He looks down, committing to memory the glorious sight of his cock plunging in and out of you, punishing your cunt. His and his only. You are his and, in this moment, you both know it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He puts his all into giving you what you want, what he knows that you need, driving himself into you with every ounce of strength that he has, spurred on by the need to claim you, even though he already has you right where he wants you. Pliant and accepting beneath him.

"Need you to cum for me, gorgeous. Can you do that?" he asks, his voice much more calm than his body feels as every inch of him grows taut, threatening to snap if pulled any tighter.

You nod, you think you do, at least. Everything is rendered inconsequential as something inside you explodes, making you see stars even when your eyes roll back inside of your head.

He wraps a hand around your mouth, presesing it tight over your face to muffle the feral scream that pours from you. You couldn't stop it if you tried, not if your life depended on it.

"That's it. That's fucking it, baby," he mutters a second before his own end comes to claim him, stealing all of the breath from his lungs and inspiring his body to move on it's own.

His hips cast into yours as his seed spills into your womb, filling you completely as you whine and readily accept it, pushing yourself up with what strength you have left in your body to thrust your hips back to meet his own, drawing out his pleasure as he draws out yours.

"Satoru," you breathe out, sighing in ecstasy and your body gives out, thumping onto the desk while his motions stutter and then still.

He drapes himself over you, kissing along the back of your neck to nip at your flesh, to have one last taste of you before he reluctantly parts his form from yours, slipping out of you and sending a sinful mixture of both of your essences dripping onto the floor.

"You are going to be the death of me," he murmurs into your ear, kising the side of your face.

"I could say the same," you sigh, eyes heavy and body seemingly lifeless as you try to will your legs to move, but it's useless with every neuron inside you still firing and him lazily draped across your back.

"At least we'll go together," he muses, his lips quirking into a smile as he nips your ear one last time, sending a shiver down your spine before he stands tall to tuck himself back into his pants.

You push yoursself up once you've recovered, tilting your head to one side as you look him over and hop up onto the desk.

"Eat it," you command cooly, looking him straight in his baby blue eyes that have reduced you to nothing time and time again.

"What?" He quirks a brow, looking you over.

"Eat your cum out of my cunt, Satoru," you demand again as you lay back on your elbows and part your legs, displaying the mixture of you and him trapped between your thighs, leaking out of you.

He looks down, eyes widening slightly before he flashes you that smirk that never fail to make your knees weak and sinks down to his own.

His hands come up to hold onto your thighs, fingers running aong your still sensitive skin as his breath fans your core before he dives in, ice blue eyes locked with yours.

You gasp, your hand flying into his snow white locks to tug gently as his eyes flutter and falls closed while he devours you. His tongue laps at your pussy, greedily tasting the concoction of your escapades.

"Fuck," he murmurs into you, sucking on your clit just to smirk when you whine.

He does as you bid him, tasting the salt of his own design and the sweetness of you, letting it bathe his tongue as he cleans you. Rids you of the evidence of the sin you both committed so willingly, but he doesn't stop.

He doesn't stop even as your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging harshly at the stark white tresses that have been turned wild by your touch. If anything, he laps more incessantly at your center, sending you careening off into an abyss that you haven't seen before. That you haven't had the intene pleasure of seeing until he brought you there and tosses you over that precipice.

You howl and he reaches up, clamping his hand down over your mouth as your hips grind desperately against his face. He groans against your folds before he wreches himself away to stand up and claim your mouth, as if he hadn't taken enough already.

You kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue as his slides against yours, exploring your mouth without shame, because that was left at the door when you two were together. There was no place for it.

The handle on the door jiggles, stirring both of you as your heads whip towards the door nearest the front of the room.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to collect your senses as you push him off and stand up, adjusting your panties and your skirt.

"Fucking early birds," he mutters as he wipes his chin, staining the sleeve of his shirt with your juices.

You move to grab your bag and he follows you, his long legs allowing him to keep up even with your head start.

He catches your wrist and you find yourself bumping into his imposing frame. As lean as he looks, it's all muscle. All height, towering over you as he bends down, catching your jaw with his other hand as he kisses you again.

You get lost in it, the knocking on the door fades away as you savor his taste—your taste—again.

"I'll be seeing you, beautiful," he says softly, a dangerous glint in his eye as he gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go.

You flash him a smile and grab your things as you chew on your lip, making for the door towards the back as he heads for the one at the front.

With one last longing glance, the both of you turn the respective handles in your grasp and you slip out of the room, retreating into the hallway to carry on with your day, traces of him lingering on your skin. In your soul, where he now resides.

thank you for reading! likes, reblog, and comments are all greatly appreciated ❤️

[princessbrunette]

Foaming at the mouth for jealous controlling “Where do you think you’re going dressed like that” Rafe but something about “Wear whatever you want I can fight (and im strapped)” Rafe… 🥵

ok esp for girly reader who lives and breathes mini skirts and tiny tops (def not self serving… not at all…)

because you really expect rafe to be the first type. and to a degree, he is— if you’re going out alone that is. usually, you bow your head to it, because really — you tell yourself — he’s just concerned about your safety. there are some real creeps out there, and going out alone in a mini skirt is a sure recipe for disaster, right?

he’s bringing you to a party on the beach. you didn’t usually go partying with rafe, and he liked it that way — because that’s where he did the most business, cashing out on rich coke heads. you knew he wouldn’t be selling at a beach party, purely because anyone stupid enough to try and snort anything would end up ingesting a fuck-tonne of sand, and it’s just not the kinda complaint he’s in the mood to hear. you actually just get to hang out with him and his friends, and this excites you.

you test the waters, stepping out of your room when he waits in the living room leant against the shelf scrolling on his phone. you know it’s likely he’ll turn you right back around and send you changing due to the little pink co-ord clinging to your every curve. it’s cupping your tits and hugging your waist and leaving all but nothing to the imagination, but it’s been a while since you’ve worn something fun like that — so you try your luck anyway.

“m’ready!” you grin, sticking your arms out by your side all cute. he looks up from his phone, eyes all wide and vacant for a second, lips pouted in thought and briefly drops his eyes up and down your body.

“yeah, looks good kid.” he drawls, flipping his phone deftly between his fingers and stuffing it into his pocket. his eyes linger around your tits again before meeting your eye, walking towards you with a happy and simple smile, one that says ‘can we go now?’

your brows raise and you look down at yourself in surprise. “i’m surprised. you’re letting me wear this out?” you gaze up at him, lips twitching up. you think he’s making an active decision to be less controlling for a moment. he shrugs lazily, eyes flickering around the room as if to say ‘so?’ and with that he lifts the end of his button-up, revealing a glock tucked into his waistband.

oh.

“yeah i don’t think anyone’s gonna have the nerve to step out of line, a’ight? ‘look after my girl.” he steps closer to you, hand coming up to scratch affectionately behind your ears like you’re a dog. you don’t mind.

you stare up at him, all doe eyed and shocked. he thinks it’s adorable honestly, all scared over a little pistol. hell, you’d probably never even seen one in real life before, let alone this close.

“rafe…” you start unsurely, breathily, but he cuts you off, hand caressing your cheek, tilting his head down and raising his eyebrows.

“hey. you wear what you want with me, yeah? m’protected. strapped. it’s okay.” he enunciates, and well— you’re not really in the place to argue. you nod, still wide eyed and he gives your cheek an affectionate tap, squinting his eyes with a satisfied smile.

as imagined, rafes temper rears it’s ugly head one beer down, catching a poor boy a year or two his junior, eyes fixated on the way your ass was moving when you walked along the sand, unbeknownst to wandering eyes. of course, the boy ended up backed up against the pier with the cool end of the gun pressed into his jaw, terrified whimpers ripped from his throat.

“wanna look at my girl, huh? think i’m gonna let that shit run?” rafe is gripping the smaller boy by the collar, teeth grit, animalistic. your breath hitches, you think he may actually shoot this kid.

“rafe…” you call out urgently, not wanting to get too close.

“no! i—” the boy tries to argue, and you really feel for him, because rafe only presses the gun harder against his chin.

“no? better keep your eyes to yourself or i’m gonna be the last thing you fuckin’ see is that understood? is that understood asshole?” he grits out, eyes wet and watery from adrenaline.

“rafe! stop!” you call out, brows furrowed and tears brimming. he sighs, finally hearing you and steps back, not taking his eyes off the mortified boy infront of him. he stares until the kid grows the balls to run off, tripping and kicking up sand as he disappears to the other side of the pier where the rest of the party goers were. it’s only then he looks back at you.

“shit.” he sighs out, shaking his head, shaking himself off completely as he stares out at the moons reflection on the ocean.

you hug yourself, watching him mellow out a little. he tucks the glock back into his waistband, yanking his shirt out again to cover it.

“you’re not bringing that thing out again.” you accuse, pointing to his gun shape tucked into his pants. he blows you off, lifting a hand and walking the other way before turning back suddenly.

“i have to protect you, you understand? if i can’t bring this out with me you— you can’t bring that.” he lifts an arm, gesturing to your lower body. you stare at him in confusion before looking down. your… ass? was he talking about your ass?

“how am i supposed to leave my ass at home, rafe?” you argue, and as soon as the words leave your mouth— you can’t help but let out a giggle. you’re mad at him, yes — but the demand was funny, you couldn’t deny.

you think he’s gonna get mad, maybe wipe the smile off your face, but his sigh turns into a giggle too, looking away from you. the irritation from his face melts into something more boyish and young, his tongue sticking out between his teeth as he lets out a low chuckle. this only makes you chortle more, and he shakes his head, trying to hide his amusement as he waddles toward you on the uneven sand, holding out his arm and reaching you, bringing you beneath it into his side.

“alright, come on trouble.” he smirks, leading you back to the party. “y’still in a partying mood?”

[solbaby7]

Life of the Party

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: typical jealousy trope, sexual themes, minors DNI, swearing, probably typos, chill boyfriend/party animal girlfriend trope

summary: A spymaster who’s restraint wears thin when his mate is invited to a costume party

—

“Oh wow,” Mor breathes out when you walk in the sitting room; heels clicking against the glossy floors as you made a bee-line for the bar cart. “Azriel’s letting you go?”

“No, which is why I’m rushing.” Your hands shake around the decanter; not with any real fear but your heartbeat does quicken at the reminder of the little white lie you’d told instead of the truth because you knew how it sounded. You, going to a party that you were invited to outside of the Night Court. “Tarquin said he’d meet me at the border.”

“A personal escort from the host himself?” Mor doesn’t bother hiding the implication in her tone and she lets out a low laugh, Amren joining in with a chuckle of her own at the way your eyes roll.

The whiskey Rhysand splurged on was warm going down and after three consecutive shots, the nerves were steadily beginning to subside. “He’s my friend.”

“Did your friend also provide you with that little outfit?”

You glance down at yourself at Armen’s slow drawl, a ruby nail pointing at your frame.

Maybe it was a little much.

The obsidian color of the fighting leather like material fits like second skin on the parts of you that they do cover. There are no sleeves, the neckline fairly tame; a deterrent to offset how much leg was on display. The see through material of the skirt flows tauntingly with each step, the two deep slits on both sides so high your hipbones showed along with the leather straps that curled around your thighs, equipped with two jeweled daggers. Two large swords crossed at your back, the hilts wrapped in blue ribbon; a small reminder of the shadowsinger. It was sexy; meant to make you appear as some warrior goddess—Azriel would never let you step foot out of the house like this. “It was a gift.”

Mor lets out a low whistle, eyes still taking in the details; the gold chains that held together some flimsy underwear that hid your modesty when the breeze cut through too hard. “He’s going to fucking kill you.”

One more shot and you swear you see a shadow lurking about in the corner. Armen smirks at your jumpiness, tucking silky hair behind a pierced ear. “Better hurry along, sounds like he just got home.”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat thumping quickly against your chest and you don’t care to let their laughter distract you when you dart from the room. You speed walk on the tips of your toes, trying to make as little noise as possible in the high heels as you prayed to the Mother above to just let you past the front door and then everything would be perfectly fine. Your hair tickles at your shoulders every time your head whips back to ensure you aren’t being followed and you finally feel the cool breeze of the night touch your skin when you bump into a large body.

The gasp that emits is comical, a little yelp, eyes wide and the relief doesn’t settle in even when you notice it’s just Cassian. “Whoa,” He mutters, bright eyes running across your frame and you pray that’s distraction enough for him to not question the way you slowly circle him, adjusting the position and finding a clear path the hell out of there the second he left. “Where are you going dressed like that?”

“Nowhere,” You breathe out, a shaky smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Have you seen Az?”

Cass smirks, taking this as you getting dressed like this for Azriel—some sexy little fantasy made reality and your shoulders immediately relax. “Went inside a couple minutes before I did. He’s probably looking for you.”

“Guess, I better hurry.” He nods, not bothering to hide the way his eyes eat at all the skin you have bared, the sultry curve of ass that peeks out the back of the skirt with each step and he barely notices you’ve gone the wrong way—leaving with a sheepish smile and a wave before you winnowed away.

It sets in when he steps inside the house, spotting Azriel turning the corner and he can’t help the words that form, even when Mor and Armen step out of the sitting room. “Az, you lucky bastard.”

The spymasters brows furrow in confusion, shadows slinking about; drifting beneath the cracks of room after room, reporting your absence back to their master. “What are you talking about?”

“That little outfit your girls got on—I’m surprised you’re even standing here right now.” Mor’s eyes widen, sharing a gaze with Armen and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Azriel’s shoulders subtly square out, spine straightening and the way golden irises darken has the otherworldly woman chuckling to herself. The pieces click without any further information and the scowl that forms on his face is positively hellish. “Did she go to that fucking party?”

Silence.

But it’s plenty answer enough.

Darkness clouds the rooms so thick it was nearly impossible to see even an inch before you and just like that it was gone and so was Azriel.

—

You let out a deep breath, nerves beginning to subside when you stand before Tarquin. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

His hand is warm when he guides your arm into his own, a large palm gentle rested over your own. “Got a bit delayed on the way over. Hope I didn’t miss anything too exciting.”

“No,” He murmurs, a smile growing in the corner of his mouth. “I believe the excitement just arrived.” Stark white hair contrasts against rich skin, Tarquin’s abdomen is exposed, the buttons of his shirt undone and left out of the waistband of his dress pants.

“Who exactly are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a High Lord, I’m not obligated to participate in such things.”

The cool breeze cuts through the thin material, all your exposed skin doing little to stave off the elements but the warmth radiating from the man beside you is enough to hold you over until you breach the main doors. Everyone was dressed in all types of extravagant outfits, some so revealing you wondered if it were a costume at all. “Glad to see that title hasn’t inflated your ego.”

“I’m sure it’ll be much more manageable after a drink or two.”

Two drinks quickly turned to five and then after a few more you’d shuck off to a corner to roll up the mirthroot Mor had generously slid your way a few weeks back. Golden light casts over the room in a sultry glow, music alluring and your hips are moving from side to side without being told. The smoke trickles from your mouth, smile growing as your worries began to fade. You could feel the eyes, the lusty gazes and Tarquin’s genuine joy from just watching.

You’re too caught up in the moment, mirthroot burning between two fingers when the shadowsinger arrives, his intent march abruptly stopped by the High Lord of the Summer Court. Cassian follows close by, Mor and Rhys a few paces behind and their steps abruptly halt when they see you. Perched up on a raised structure, your hips sway in sync with the music, hair flowing behind you and the blue ribbons attached to the swords flutter with each movement. “You,” Azriel all but hisses but Tarquin doesn’t so much as flinch. “—a terrible, horrible influence.”

“Relax," Tarquin drawls out, obviously somewhat affected by the few glasses of wine he'd indulged in. "-- look at her,” Az's hands clench in fists at his sides but the spymaster can’t help the way his eyes shift to you, to the costume and the color you donned; the smoke huffing from your nose like a dragon emerging from her cave for the night and Azriel forgets about what he was mad about in the first place. “She’s just having fun.”

More than having fun.

You were positively the life of the party, others beginning to gather around, watching the warrior of a woman dancing like no one else was there. Your head dips back and Azriel finds his eyes trained on the column of your neck, mouth closing as whatever response he’d originally intended to give the High Lord completely died on his tongue. Something in the way Tarquin remains trained on you has Azriel's shadows go on edge, sizing up the man baring so much skin; lean muscle on display and bright eyes are fixed on the way you move. "Watch this," He mutters, living vicariously through you and Azriel begins to question the true intentions behind the High Lords friendship with you. "It's her favorite part." Water begins to trickle down like fresh rain after weeks of sweltering heat and Azriel's heart actually swells when he hears the laugh you let out; hands raised above your hand to catch the cool drops.

It soaks through your clothes, the flimsy material of your skirt sticking to your thighs and Azriel is acutely aware of exactly how much skin you have on display and the plethora of males and females in the crowd beginning to recognize that same thing. Even Rhysand has a brow raised, head slowly tilting to the side when a particularly obscene about of ass flashes, gold chains holding underwear in place glistening under the flame light.

Azriel doesn't even need to trudge through the sea of sweaty bodies to get to you; eyes catching after turning to send a grateful smile to Tarquin and for a split second your whole body freezes. You recover quickly but you come down from the stand much quicker, body dripping and hair sticking to your neck. The closer you approach your mate, the more aware you become of the smell of the mirthroot stuck to your clothes, lacing your breath and Az doesn't seem swayed in the slightest by the sweet smile you offer him when you reach. "Nice party, right?"

Aureate irises drag down the length of your frame, catching on the parts of you made visible from the impromptu shower and Az can't help but be a little disappointed to see your makeup still in place. He'd always got a little frenzied when he saw you all messy; eyeshadow smeared and mascara dripping down your cheeks while he fucked off the sticky lipgloss that smelled like cherries. The evaluation pauses at the holsters wrapped around your thighs, jewels in shades of blue intricately welded together on the daggers peeking out the sodden skirt. "It would appear so," Shadows curl around your legs, avoiding the gift of a costume as if it were toxic waste. "I hope you enjoyed it because we are going home."

"But, I just got here."

"Yeah, Shadowsinger," Tarquin tacks on and Az's hand twitches to punch him; to wipe that smug grin off his face and to demand Rhys erase decades of memories the two of you had made before ever even meeting Azriel because no other male should be this comfortable with you. "She just got here and she hasn't even begun to make a dent in the bag of mirthroot Mor got her." The blonde in question huffs, eyes going a little wide but she doesn't seem too worried-- confident that whatever Az had planned for you was far worse than anything he could conjure up for her.

"Actually, he's right," You pull away from the High Lord with a warm smile, offering a hug and thanks for everything and Cassian hides the laugh that grows at the sight of Azriel's jaw clenched so tight; shadows just itching to slice off the hand that lingered a little too low in the dip of your back. "We should be getting home."

Az wastes no time tugging you to his side, nose grazing your temple when whispering in your ear. "When we get back take these clothes off but leave those on." Shadows twist at the fat of your thigh, around the holsters and the weapons they held. "Only those."

A smile grows, pupils blown and the way you glance up through thick lashes has his cock hardening in his pants. "Yes, sir."

[thebrothel]

I miss Thighs Out, Tox. Can he write us a fanfic about his dirtiest desires? I AM CURIOUS :3

wet booth (18+)

bf's dad!Joel x f!reader, 900

by thighs, shoutout to step for inspiration.

You’re sitting in McDonald's getting horny as hell, fantasizing about joining the mile high club on the way to vacation. Joel has one planned, but won't tell you any details. He knows you like surprises like that time you were laying out on the beach. You're missing Daddy’s fat cock, and he misses you, too. You won’t be able to see him until tonight, and it’s driving you crazy.

God, I wish he’d stick it in my tight ass, you think to yourself.  He’ll stick it anywhere you want. 

You’re gushing onto the booth, probably soaking through your short little skirt. Your breathing is getting heavy and you have to undo the top 2 buttons of your button down shirt to cool off and let your tits heave up and down more freely. You're wearing a front-closure bra that could burst open if you stretched your arms behind your back. 

“Can’t wait for tonight,” you send Joel. You part your thighs to air out your dripping cooch. 

He responds in a few minutes, first with a pic of a big bottle of lube, and a stop sign emoji with a question mark. You send him a green light and moan softly out loud in the restaurant. A minute later, you get a pic that has a spoiler over it. Oh, God, it’s so hot when he jacks off. 

You hold the phone down in your lap, feeling the heat of your loins as you uncover the photo. It’s a closeup. His legs are spread and his knees are up. His hand is wrapped around his big, hard dick, and his balls are also in frame along with a butt plug. Everything is shiny with lube.

You send him another green light, but he sends back a text, “Show me somethin’ juicy.” Throbbing and desperate to get a video, you look around the fast food joint. You pull your soaked panties to the side, and under the table you snap a pic of your drooling cunt. 

“Fuck yeah,” he responds. He sends back a 5 second clip of his hand gliding up and down his shaft, and he says “you’re so goddamn hot, baby.”

“More, daddy. I wanna see you cum,” you reply.

“Show me your tits,” he responds. 

You adjust your skirt and feel a wet stop on the back. Fuck. Maybe you’ll just take off your shirt and tie it around your waist and go to the restroom. You’d be fine in your tight undershirt an bra and your tits overflowing. But he Texts back, “Right there. Not in the bathroom.” 

Oh, God, it turns you on. You think for a moment about how you can pull this off. You're sitting in the exact booth where Luigi Mangioni was caught, so it feels extra risky, which adds an extra thrill.

You take off your button down shirt and tie it around your waist, then you jog to the restroom with your tits bouncing with each step. You remove your bra then come back out to the booth and use a napkin to wipe up the slick on the seat before sitting down again. You stuff your bra in your purse, then put the shirt on, but leave it unbuttoned. 

Meanwhile, Joel is brainstorming  what you could stick up your cunt but he knows mcdonald’s doesn’t have Heinz ketchup bottles on the tables or serve beer so he’s drawing a blank. Fingers it is. 

You pull your tight undershirt down under your tits, making them swell up. Your nipples are hard. Your shirt is hanging open, barely covering your breasts. You nudge the shirt open on one side and take a selfie with your tit exposed before quickly nudging it to cover yourself again. 

“Both,” Joel insists.

You shouldn’t dishonor this of all booths with lack of courage. You stick your chest forward, making the shirt fall open enough to show both your nipples, and send a pic back to Daddy. Then you pull up the undershirt.  

He sends a voice note and you hold it to your ear.  “Ohhh, fuck, baby,” he moans, “Ya gotta do one last thing for me, k babygirl?” You nod even though he cant see you. He's breathing heavily. “I need you to fuck yourself and don’t press play til you’re about to cum, k baby. Mmmm God damn” 

He sends a video with a spoiler over it. You unhide it but don’t press play yet.

You rub yourself and finger fuck yourself, trying not to make a noise, but you’re so wet the squelching is audible. About to cum, your mouth opens with a grunt, then you press play and just pray no one hears. 

“fuck, you're so sexy” Joel breathes as he jerks himself.  “such a good girl, fuckin yourself in that booth for daddy, ohhh fuck.”

Your fingers keep squelching and you're about to cum when Joel erupts with a groan, cumming huge fertile ropes all over himself to the thought of you in that booth.

“Fuck," you mutter, then you moan and cum into your hand, squirting everywhere under the booth. You stare at your uneaten meal and catch your breath. 

“Good girl 😘,” he texts you.

The guy in the booth in front of you reaches back and places a stack of napkins on the table. He can't get up because he has a boner. 

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 2

I have no idea what I am doing with this space each week. Am I thinking thoughts? Am I recapping the episode? Am I getting anxiety that I'll have to be more selective with the images I use since I'm only allowed thirty yet every second of this show is color-coded? Am I lusting after Pin and my girl Prik? All of the above?! Once again, I have no idea, so let me just get this post started at the beginning with Pin being the saddest Pink Person and cutting all the mangoes within 50 miles because her girlfriend is leaving.

The Blue Beauty Anin sends her loyal and trusty sidekick Prik to keep her girlfriend company while she is busy preparing for her move.

Because she knows no mangoes are safe and apparently papayas too! And while we get a flashback, we see that Pin is wearing blue ribbons in her hair because even if she can't put words to it, she's been in love with her Blue Beauty for a long time.

Probably before she even knew the word "love"

So while Anin is busy making arrangements with her color-coded brother,

Pin is haunting the halls already grieving her loss

Refusing to acknowledge that Anin is leaving (same girl, same)

Losing her appetite (and will to live), which her color-coded mother picks up on

And crushing Prik's spirit with the realization that Anin will be abroad for SEVEN DAMN YEARS!

Basically, Pin is in her sad girl era as she holds Anin's handkerchief and cries into her pillow.

But thankfully Prik acts like a ghost and snitches to her Blue Beauty Boss that their Pink Person is turning into Britney Spear's 2000 classic "Lucky" since "she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking 'if there's nothing missing in my life then why do these tears come at night?'"

So Anin, in true Blue Beauty, fashion decides to make her girl happy by making food with her and eating it . . . alone since Pin still isn't eating.

And takes up every single waking moment of Pin's time.

They even celebrate Loy Krathong together, but the mood turns sad once Pin finally vocalizes that Anin is leaving FOR SEVEN DAMN YEARS!

So it's time for Anin to leave, and she says goodbye to her color-coded girlfriend and her color-coded aunt.

Oh, and her color-coded brothers!

But she immediately gets to writing her girl because if a letter is late, according to Prik, Pin is painting her nails black and listening to My Chemical Romance's "Ghost of You" on repeat until the letter arrives. Same girl, same.

However, Pin can read between the lines, and even though Anin is saying she is happy and writing about other friends (Anin knows other women?! Not in this sapphic love story she don't!),

Pin knows Anin is not happy and can see the teardrops on the letter as clear as day because they are the same album, but different songs. Alexa, play My Chemical Romance's "I'm Not Okay"!

Fuck it! Just play all of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge! I'M in my emo feels!

But their SEVEN DAMN YEAR separation is coming to in end which we can tell because their hairstyles have changed, and our Blue Beauty has a plan up her sleeve!

Sidenote: The snow globe on her desk has one character in green and blue and the other is in red and pink. It's them!

But back to the plan! Now that Anin is graduating, she triple-checks with her color-coded family that the highly esteemed prince who just happens to be her dad is going to keep his promise of giving her anything she wants.

Because this bad (blue) bitch is getting the custom-made house she promised her girl! Sis secured the bag!

And Pin is proud as hell of her smarty-pants skirt (since the clothing is historical accurate?).

But as proud as she is of her, in the middle of a room filled with pink, blue, and purple (!!!!) flowers, she looks shocked to see her Blue Beauty right in front of her when the episode ends.

Anin is just full of surprises like appearing out of nowhere and coming back queerer than when she left. Good for her!

Bonus: Anin's mom is a Yellow/Orange Oddity, and I think as the girls continue to age, they will inherit more of their moms' colors into their wardrobes because of generational trauma, gender norms, and whatnot until they break against tradition and be gay do crime each other.

But either way, me and my huge emo album collection will be here doing whatever this is all season!

[f1smutwriter]

Could you write something where Charles is dating a plus sized girl and she’s insecure but he shows her how beautiful she is? Please :)

|PERFECT (cl16)

|𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: She’s feeling a bit insecure about how her body look. But to Charles she’s perfect

Warnings: SMUT! dirty talk, praising, oral (fem rec), unprotected sex (like love making but wear protection gosh), creampie, pet names (my beautiful girl, good girl, mon ange), breeding kink, bit of angst, cockwarming, fluff so much fluff, more that I probably missed

Notes: I feel like I’m getting better, and again request are open and if you did request something I promise you it’s coming out soon

————————————————————————————————————

As I look at myself in the mirror I just start tearing up. Hating the way my body looks. I was never the skinny girl that guys lined up from. I was always the friend of the skinny girl, or my sister was the skinny girl. That's why when Charles will tell me I look beautiful I don't believe him. I put on a long sleeve pink shirt and a white tennis skirt on feeling confident. But when I looked at myself in the mirror I hated what I saw.

I looked like a monster. I had extra fat around my stomach, my arms weren't skinny, and my thighs were huge. I just look at myself in disgust making me cry more. "Mon ange what's wrong" Charles asked me concerned as he holds me up so I don't fall. "I hate myself cha, I hate how I look. Why are you even with me you should date someone pretty" I cried making it hard for him to understand me.

“Someone pretty but I do have someone pretty. I have someone so beautiful that it makes me want you all the time” He whisper to me softly making me wipe my tears. I look at him with my tear stained cheeks sniffling. “R-really” I say as he cups my face and wipes away the tears. “How about I show you baby, would you like that having me show you” He asked me in a gentle voice making me nod. “Go lay down my beautiful girl let me show you how much I love you and your body” he whispered in my ear making me squeeze my legs together.

I walk to the bed and sit down at the foot of it. He looks down at me holding my chin so I can look at him perfectly. “Gosh you’re so pretty with your little puppy dog eyes, Mon ange” he whispered softly making me squeeze my thighs harder tighter. He saw mh action making him chuckle softly. He slowly kneels down in front of me, not breaking eye contact for a single second.

He looks at my top biting his lip as he stares at my boobs. “Can you take this off so I can see these pretty tits” He grumbled as his gaze on my tits don’t break. I take off my shirt and unclip my bra making him groan getting the full view. “These are breath taking, one of my favorite things Mon ange” he murmured while taking one of them in his mouth making my breath hitch from the sudden pleasure.

I feel him suck on my soft skin making me gasped, as he nips softly. He sucks love marks on my chest making me whine. He kisses down my chest to my stomach. I feel his teeth gaze my stomach, then he kisses down to my waist line of my skirt. "We're gonna keep this on okay, you look so pretty to take it off" He growled as he kissed up my thigh. He moved my skirt up letting me see him between my legs.

As he slid my pink laced panties down my legs, he stares at my bare pussy making me close my legs close insecurely. "Leave them open, want to see this pretty pussy" He said spreading my legs again making me feel more insecure. He slowly licks my clit making me gasp, closing my thighs around his head making him groan. "I-i'm sorry baby" I say widening then not wanting to hurt him. "No I love it when you squish me, okay good girl" he said before going back and feasting on my cunt.

I start babbling nonsense trying to get away from the intense pleasure. “Fuck this pussy is the sweetest, can’t get enough of you” he muttered against my clit making me scream out in pleasure. “So sensitive huh, that’s why you’re so loud so responsive” he chuckled making me cry out feeling tears stream down my face. I feel his fingers tease my aching hole, slowly pushing them in. I moaned loudly feeling full just from two fingers. “I know baby, but daddy’s is gonna have to stretch you out. Y’to tight” he whispered before going back and sucking my clit.

I feel him curl his fingers hitting the perfect spot in me that only he could touch. “Found it huh the precious little spot that makes you cum all over my fingers, and tongue” he grunted before pounding his fingers into the spot that makes me see stars. I let out quiet moans the pleasure being to much that I can barely make a noise. “M’gonna c-cum” I stuttered out making him chuckled softly.

“Yeah this pretty little pussy gonna cum all over my fingers, gonna show me how much of a good girl you are” he teased making me moan louder and louder. “Yeah you are, only I can make you feel this good huh, only I can taste and fuck this tight pussy” he said going fast making my legs tremble and the knot in my stomach growing tighter.

“Cum, cum all over my fingers beautiful girl” he whispered in my ear making me scream out as I cum all over his fingers so hard I almost get light headed. He licks up all the cum that I give him making him groan causing vibrations go travel up my body, I close my legs from the overstimulation whining softly. “Want a condom or raw today princess” he whispered to me as he stroked his already hard cock to get himself ready.

“R-raw please” I say softly making him chuckle from my response. “My polite little girl” he whispered before running his leaky tip over my abused cunt. “So wet mon ange” He groaned before pushing into me making me gasp at the stretch. “Fuck s-stretching this pussy so wide, a-always s-so tight for me” he grunted before moving his hips with slow thrust.

“Cha-Charlie f-faster” I cried out while wrapping my legs around his waist encouraging him to go faster. His hips start going at the speed that I wasn’t, making me moan out. One of his hands holding my leg while the other grabbing my tit making me cry out as he pinched my nipple. “Fuck I’m so deep huh baby in this pretty stomach” he grunted “always in your tummy huh baby” he groaned before going faster now hitting my g-spot with every single thrust. “Found it” he gloated before pounding into me making me cry out.

“So fucking pretty when your getting fucked baby, remember that your the most beautiful girl ever” he groaned him feeling his own release. “Love your personality, your pretty face, and- fuck, your pretty fucking body love fucking you mon ange” he groaned feeling himself on the edge. “Cum with me my beautiful girl” he said while moving his hand that was grabbing my tit to my clit rubbing it in circles bringing me straight to my climax. “Fuck gonna put a baby in you baby you’re gonna look so much more prettier then you already are” he groaned softly. As he felt me tighten around him he groaned shooting his seed into me. He slowly fucks me through my orgasm, once I came down from my high he holds me in his lap cuddling me.

“Did so good Mon ange, so good my good girl” he praised me as I slowly fall asleep on his chest. “I’m gonna be right back let me go clean you up” he whispered trying to slip out but I stop him. “No please stay in me” I begged him softly making him smile. “Okay baby I’ll stay in you” he whispered before cuddling me to sleep. “I love you Charlie” I whisper half asleep in his arms. “I love you so much more Mon ange” he whispered back before we fell asleep.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Notes: stop to the girl who requested this I’m so sorry it took this long. I really hope you like it because I love this, most wholesome/dirty thing ever and I’m living for it. I hope you love it girl!

[riki-riks-chick]

like bodyguard jay 🫠🫠🫠 and he is never crossing line but keep callin you "ma'am" 🫠🫠 and fucks you rough but gentle at the same time🫠🫠🫠 i wanna die just thinking about it😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

The Bodyguard ┃P.JS

Bodyguard!jay x reader

You're the daughter of two famous celebrities, jay is your bodyguard

cw: drunk sex (yn slighty drunk), kissing, jealousy, unprotected sex, no prep, bratty yn, slightly rough jay, gentle jay, slight dirty talk.

wdct: 1.6k

═════════════

Third Person POV~

Living as the daughter of a famous actor and actress is not fun. Especially when it always lands you in the media.

You were known for being a bit of a wild child, and you never thought it would land you with a personal bodyguard, but here you are.

Your father got quite upset after waking up to find his daughter all over the internet, kissing some boy who was known for figure skating. After that, he decided to stick you with a bodyguard who was only a couple years older than you.

He was handsome, sure, but it was hell having him follow you everywhere. It's like you never have a second alone.

And he's so formal that it fucking hurts. Always calling you "miss" or "ma'am" like you're some 60 year old woman.

You've tried teasing him, wearing revealing clothes, and even acting extra touchy when you're out drinking with your friends, but it's no use. He refuses to break.

He has never crossed a line. He's never entered your bedroom, not even with permission, and he won't look lower than your eyes when you're wearing anything even slightly revealing. He won't even touch you if it's not for safety purposes.

And now he's ticked you off completely. You were at a party, specifically to fuck around with the son of your mother's co-star. You were warned by your mother to leave him alone, but you decided to be disobedient and hang out with him anyway.

Getting away from Jay was hard enough, but once he found you in the back of a black Rolls Royce with that boy? That dopey, messy-haired, fuckboy? Oh, he was livid. He grabbed you by the arm, dragging you out and towards your own car which he'd been driving for you.

You got a rush from the way he grabbed you, tugging your skirt down and not even bothering with the fact that your shirt was partially unbuttoned.

"Jay.. Let go of me!" You yell, albeit slurred, snatching your arm from Jay's hold as he sighs. "Miss Y/n... It's not my fault your dad made me your bodyguard. Quite frankly, I never would've ended up here if you would've simply listened to your parents' orders."

This was the first time he'd ever responded in a non-professional way, and it shut you up immediately. "Listen, I know you don't like me. And I know you wish your dad would fire me, but I'm trying my hardest. I can't watch you do stupid shit like that though."

You simply drop your head, avoiding his eyes as he removes his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. "Let's just get you home.."

He helps you into the car, closing the door before getting in on the driver's side. He buckles your seatbelt before taking off.

When he gets back to your house, he thanks his lucky star that your parents aren't home to see you like this.

He makes it a mission to help you upstairs and then leave, but once he's in your room, you make it your goal to keep him from leaving.

"I should probably go, miss.." He avoids making contact with your cleavage as he pushes you away at the chest, giving himself room to breathe.

"Jay.. Aren't you supposed to do whatever I say?.." You ask as he nods, visibly straightening his posture. "Yes, ma'am.." He swallows hard, scared of his own thoughts in the moment as he takes in your sloppy appearance. His eyes trail the sway of your hips as you saunter over to him.

"Then fuck me..." You say, straightforward and outright. It catches Jay completely off guard. "What?! No!" He immediately rejects, earning a sideways glance from you.

"You interrupted me when I was about to get laid. So you're gonna fuck me instead.." You're clearly serious, but Jay is confused. He's always harboured something less than appropriate for you, but he'd never act on it out of fear of losing his job, and you with it.

"Miss Y/n.. I think it's just the alcohol talking.. Please." You push him against the wall, cutting him off as you press your palm straight against his crotch, palming his very obvious erection.

"Maybe it's your dick talking?..." You question cockily, bringing your left hand up to his nape to tug him closer. His lips ghosted hesitantly over yours. "If you want me... I'm yours for the taking. Stop being so formal."

He's completely sure that his next course of action is led by his dick, but he doesn't care. He cups your jaw gently, closing the small gap between you as he kisses you with a long-hidden passion.

It's feels as if he'd been waiting and yearning for this to happen. His lips press feverishly against yours as he leads you backwards and towards your bed, pulling away only momentarily to let you climb onto the bed.

Once he's back on top of you, hes unbuttoning your shirt, kissing down your torso in the process as he sucks on the available skin that your bra can't cover.

Once he reaches your waist band, he glances up at you, his eyes dark and filled with a burning desire. "Tell me, lovely miss... Did he touch you here..?" He asks, his finger trailing over your cunt through the barrier of your underwear.

"No.. You didn't give him the chance." You reply in a smart-mouthed tone, making him chuckle. "Good, because I would've killed him."

Then he's removing your skirt, tossing it aside carelessly as he tugs you closer by your hips. Your legs are on either side of him, and you have the perfect view as he unbuttons his shirt, slowly revealing his toned torso inch by inch.

As soon as his shirt is off, he's unbuckling his belt, undoing his pants just enough to free his erection. You take a second to marvel at his length, stroking it slowly as his lips part to let out a heavy sigh.

After letting you feel him up, he moves your hand, sliding your panties off as he tosses them across the bed. "Can I put it in..?" He asks, his tone filled with desperation. You nod, not wanting to wait much longer and risk your parents coming home.

The second he presses his tip against your hole, sliding in just slightly, you gasp, biting your lip to supress your moan as he bottoms out, stilling his hips to let you adjust.

"How do you feel?" He asks, rubbing your thigh softly as he watches your chest rise and fall with each breath. You take a second to respond, trying to filter out the slight pain you feel with how deep he is.

"Fuck it, just move." You let out a sigh, gripping his hand as he kisses the back of your hand before moving his hips slowly.

Each slow and deep drag pulls a moan from your throat. The way he's focusing so hard, on every movement, makes it feel so much better altogether.

"Are you okay, miss..?" He asks, using his free hand to cup your cheek as you nod. "I'm fine. And please stop it with all the miss and ma'am bullshit. Just call me Y/n."

At your bratty response, he thrusts particularly hard, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he quickens his pace. "Such harsh words coming from such a pretty mouth. Be nice..."

"Be nice, my ass.." You argue, tilting your head back as he moves his hips faster against yours, his thumb rubbing your clit in circular motions. The feeling is absolute torture, but you'd be lying of you said it didn't make you feel incredible.

"I wanna see the pretty little face you make when you cum... I wanna hear how good I make you feel."

"Jay... Fuck.." You moan, gripping his wrist as he smiles. "Your moans are so pretty.. I could listen to them forever.." He's already tailing his own orgasm, the feeling of you tightening around him edging him closer and closer.

"I'm gonna cum..." You whimper, gripping his forearm as he thrusts deeper, aiming for that one spot that made you see stars. "Cum for me, angel..." He encourages, his thrusts getting sloppy as his own climax builds up in the pit of his stomach.

"Fuck... Do you want me to pull out?.." He asks, unsure of how much longer he'll last. "Don't pull out." You command, making his heart flutter. "Yes ma'am..."

You groan at the choice of words, biting your lip to supress your moans as he tightened his hold on your hip, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Shit... Jay.." Your words come off as more of a whisper as your orgasm washes over you. You tighten around Jay, tilting your head back against the pillows as he lets out a deep moan, his hips stuttering.

He comes undone, filling you with his seed as he leans down to kiss you, his hips moving slowly against yours. "You feel so good.."

"I'm gonna make my dad fire you..." You mumble, finally managing to say something. Jay's eyebrow raises at your words, tracing soft patterns on your skin. "Why would you want that?"

"So I can keep you to myself like this.. So you don't hold back with me.." You explain as he smiles, leaning down to capture your lips softly with his own. "Angel, you don't have to get me fired for me to love you.. I promise you, I'm done holding back..."

═════════════

tysm for the req hope it was okay

[seoktized]

possesive!womanizer! gyuvin + littlebit of corruption kink when he said that the only who can touch you dirty like this is only him 😋😋

twisting this a bit? cuz i luv bully!gyuvin hehehe

not proofread btw sorry for any mistakes 💔

possessive bully!gyuvin who drags you into a random closet after seeing you talking to gunwook.

“gyuvin? what the fuck?” you’re obviously confused as he pulled you in without a word, busying himself with kissing down your neck.

“you know,” he started, “gunwook has a crush on you. he’s always telling me about how he wants to ask you out.” he said in between kisses.

“okay?”

“he can’t like you. or ask you out. you’re mine.” he growled.

“mine to crush on, mine to kiss, mine to fuck.” his last word was followed by a bite to your collarbone.

“tell me, you think he can fuck you as good as i can?” he said as he turned you around, pressing you against the wall.

his hands made their way to the waist band of your skirt, pulling it down along with your pink panties you wore especially for him.

he smiled when he realized you were wearing his favorite pair. “you didn’t answer, doll.”

his fingers pressed against your core. two fingers ever so slightly brush up against your clit as he slid them up and down.

“can he touch you like this? get you wet like this?” he pushed his fingers into your hole, slowly thrusting them in.

“fuck- no! he can’t. only you can, gyuvin” you moaned.

“good girl. now let me fuck you good, yea? he’s probably outside the door wondering where you went.” he said as he undid his belt.

he quickly freed his cock, stroking himself a bit before pushing into your pussy. both of you groaned in unison at the feeling.

gyuvin’s thrusts were deep and fast. his large hands were gripping your hips, keeping you in place as if you’d try and leave. hearing you chant his name made gyuvin smirk, you wouldn’t leave him. you were too drunk on him to do so.

gyuvin had molded you into his perfect little slut, you had eyes for him and him only. you believed him when he told you that no other guy could fuck you as good as he could. gyuvin was the first and only guy you’d ever done anything with and he wanted to keep it that way.

his wandering thoughts brought his closer to the edge. gyuvin wanted nothing more than to come inside you, a way of marking his territory.

he started to leave open mouth kisses on your shoulders before going up to your neck, leaving marks to show that you were in fact, his.

‘this’ll show him.’ he thought to himself.

you felt your orgasm approaching as gyuvin’s thrusts grew sloppier, signaling that he was close as well.

“fuck, doll. come with me. gonna fill you up so good so that gunwook’ll know you belong to me.” he panted.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt the knot in your stomach snap. gyuvin followed behind, groaning into your neck as he let you milk him dry.

the two of you took a moment to catch your breath before gyuvin helped you slip back on your panties and your skirt.

when you stepped out, gunwook was standing across the hall from the closet. his eyes widened at the marks scattered along your neck. gyuvin came out a second later, a goofy smile plastered across his face.

he lightly smacked your ass before walking in the opposite direction, back to his own class.

[thechaoticplayer]

Luca smut omg- bratty reader and brat tamer luca 🛐 jsbsjdbjshs i can't stop thinking about it

author's note: JEJEHDIEDHEI 😩😩😩 BRAT TAMER LUCA... TY ANON BC IM A BRAT MYSELF AND OMLLLLLL YES JUST. YES. Also mad shorter than expected but what can I sayyyy

Summary: Brat Tamer Luca has to put your bratty ass into place for all the shit you've been doing to him <3

Contains: FILTHY FILTHY DIRTY SMUT. LUCA KANESHIRO X READER. eatablished relationship, degrading, Luca bullying you and being extremely rough but that's ok bc hes such a daddy, my phone being on 19% and forcing it to work like Luca is with u fr

Mdni or not idgaf

Being the mafia boss's boyfriend came with a shit ton of perks: no one could say anything to you (you can't do this or you're not allowed to do that), you could do basically whatever the hell you want without repercussions, and Luca Kaneshiro spoiled you to death. It wouldn't have come as a surprise if you turned into a brat because of it.

And here you are, whining because your boyfriend has to go meet with some guy he's working with. He's not as important as you are!

"Babe, I have to go, it's important for the mafia," Luca murmurs softly into your hair as you cling to him tightly. Your arms wrapped around his waist and face buried in his chest, you showed no signs of letting go. He sighs. "I'll try my best to make it quick, alright? Just-"

"No!" Your muffled voice replies, before glancing up at him with big eyes. "I want you. To stay."

"Babe..."

"Don't 'babe' me. I guess your mafia is more important than me." You release him and step back, abruptly turning your back towards him, crossing your arms. "Whatever. Bye."

Luca stares at your back for a second, absolutely torn for a second. "What? no, of course you're important-"

"I'm second and always be second, huh?" You saunter to the bed you two share and throw yourself onto it. You rest your hand on your forehead, closing your eyes. "It's fine. Go ahead. I'll just find someone else to play with."

He goes silent. You don't open your eyes.

A beat's worth of silence. "Got nothing to say now, huh?" You scoff, a smirk playing on your lips. "I suppose you've gotten so-"

You yelp as you feel rough hands latch themselves onto your thighs and yank you downwards, and your eyes fly open. Luca leans over you with a dark look in his eyes, brows furrowed in silent anger.

"You suppose ive gotten... what?" The plush of your ass is tightly against his crotch, his gloved hands digging into your skin.

"...soft." His eyes smolder, a fire in his gaze as he leans closer to your face.

"Soft?" He echoes, a sultry chuckle sending a shiver upon your spine. "No no no, I think you got it all wrong, sweetheart..."

The mafia boss hooks your legs over his shoulders, his bigger and wider form trapping you underneath him as he grinds against your wet panties, the skirt your wearing riding up to your hips. You stifle a moan, biting your lip hard.

"You've always liked it when I'm a bit rough with you, hmm?"

"Tch! Don't you have somewhere to be?" You reply haughtily, trying hard for a whimper to not slip past your lips as he grinds slowly.

"It can wait, no? Besides..." Luca's breath tickles your ear. "Theres a certain someone, who needs to be taken care of."

"Yeah. Your friend."

"What a fucking-" Out of nowhere, Luca flips you onto your stomach, leaving you squawking as he spread your legs open, ass in the air. "Brat."

"W-wait a minute!" You stammer as you turn your head to see him rip off his pants and unleashing his cock from its confines, big and hard. The glint in his eyes suggest you were probably not going to be able to walk for a good couple of weeks. "L-Luca, wait!"

"No," he growls, pushing your panties aside and sinking his still gloved fingers into you. A whimper tears itself from your throat as he plunges the digit in and out of your crying hole. "Brats need to be taught a fucking lesson. look at how wet you are. Filthy slut."

"I wouldn't have been- mmph! A b-brat if you didn't leave me all the- ah... t-time!" You blabber, your legs already shaking a bit from how rough and quickly he was fingering you.

"Leave you?" Luca repeats, incredulous. "God, I made you into a fucking brat! Spoiling you all the time, giving you everything you could have ever wanted..."

He slips his finger out, lining up his cock with your entrance. Your mouth almost waters at the sight and he laughs at your lustful expression. "Is this what you want? then I'll gladly give to you, and you won't even dare forget this..."

The mafia boss shoves his girth into, splitting you open. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets as Luca doesn't even allow you to adjust to his size. You were fucked by him plenty of times before, but your hole could never get quite used to his thickness. Luca drills his cock into you, the fat tip kissing your g-spot deliciously so.

The bed squeaks and groans underneath you both, loud moans spilling from your mouth. You turn your face into the pillows, only to be yanked back up. You gasp as Luca forces you to arch, the angle causing you to see stars.

"L-Luca- a-ah! Fuck fuck fuckfuck-" You moan and whimper and whine as Luca's dick pummels itself into you, your walls clenching around him.

"This is what you want, huh?" Luca breaths raggedly into your ear, one hand fondling with your tit. How sensitive you've become, moaning from pure pleasure. "Want me to fuck you dumb?"

"Y-y-you asshole-!"

A sharp snap of his hips force you to choke on another keening moan. "What was that, darling? couldn't catch that."

Only moans answer and he chortles. Luca can feel you getting close, but why stop there? Why not make you wish you never provoked him in the first place? How dare you say that you'll go find someone else to play with in his absence! He tsks as you squirm underneath him. No no, he'll make you beg for him to stop, and even after that he won't obey.

You cum hard around his cock but the mafia boss still bullies himself into you as you twitch. tears rolls down your face as you attempt to scramble away, but Luca pulls you all the way back so now you're riding his cock, back arched against him. You babble sentences don't even make sense as your brain was fucked to mush.

"What's wrong? can't speak anymore?" Luca coos, thrusting himself deeper and deeper. His voice deep and husky, your fluids staining his shirt but he could really care less. "Fucked you so good- what a cock drunk whore."

You whine, skin slapping against skin as you ride his dick, legs shaking and stickiness against your thighs. Luca bites your neck, leaving a trail of bite marks against your dainty skin. He licks from your shoulder to your neck, suckling. Luca can feel the vibrations through your throat as you make such pretty noises for him. Was it possible that he seemed to get even harder and even larger inside of you?

His hips slot up to meet yours and you cum once more, drool dripping down your lips. Luca groans as he feels your walls clench and your hot cum envelopes his dick. He fucks you through your second orgasm until he releases a guttural grunt and shoots his loads deep into your tummy.

"I'm not done," he pants, pulling out of you and throwing you back down on your back. "So far from done."

"L-Luca..." you whimper quietly, body heaving and near close to exhaustion.

He cups a hand to your cheek. "You did this to yourself, pretty girl..."

Luca's mouth hovers over your tit, blowing on it and watching the nipple grow hard. Another chuckle as he pops the tit into his mouth, sucking hard. Your hand finds itself in his blond hair, soft and airy whines in the air. He releases the tit and goes to the other, teeth grazing it.

He kisses down your tummy, opening your legs in the process. The mafia boss lowers to your aching pussy, somehow getting wet all over again. Luca licks a stripe up your abused cunt and a shaky sigh comes out your mouth.

"Horny bitch." Bringing you closer to his mouth, his tongue circles your clit as his hot breaths fan in between your thighs. "Came twice already, and it still isnt enough..."

His entire mouth is on you now, slurping and teasing and sucking. You tug his hair hard, making the mafia boss growl lowly into your pussy. The vibrations add to the upcoming orgasm, your moans filling the room and you were sure everyone within the house could hear. Neither of you gave a damn as he continued his assault on your weeping cunt.

You cum against his face and he laps up every single drop, kissing and biting your thighs while doing so. Your chest rises rapidly up and down, and Luca observes your fucked out expression. Your eyelids are heavy, and you're just about ready to pass out.

Until... "Oh no, you aren't getting any breaks." Luca yanks you back up and turns himself in one smooth motion so now you're kneeling before him, his yet again hard cock in front of your eyes. "Suck, whore."

You eagerly take the cock in your hands, the slick from both parties still covered all over it.

There is definitely more where that's coming from.