#Pressed Flowers Tee

[minoarts]

wildflowers

[whowantshota]

DADDY'S HOME —— kim mingyu

in which your husband comes home late on valentines. but it's okay, he has his ways of making it up to you.

warnings ☆ MATURE CONTENT AHEAD. smut, husband!mingyu, somno, gyu is pussy whipped, kim mingyu x afab!reader

i get off work late today :/ 

c u ltr, ok?

You frown at the texts, irritability rubbing your thumb against your temples. 

This is not the first time your husband has texted you that he’d be late from work, oh of course not. You understand—-sometimes, his schedule is tight and that makes work the temporary number one priority. You obviously mean more to Mingyu than his paycheck.

Or so you thought. You groan, flopping back onto the couch miserably. Mingyu has come late at night at least twice a week for the past month now, so it should be a normal occurrence. At least, if tonight wasn’t Valentine's.

Yes, today was the commercial holiday that pisses about off half the world. And funnily enough, Mingyu had only sworn to you three major things in his life. One, good dick. Two loving you. And three, that he’d never miss Valentine's day. 

While the last one was mostly a long inside joke from before you got married, you’re still glancing worriedly at the clock. 9:30 and you’re still holed up alone in your apartment, a box of chocolates with his name on it set on top of the kitchen table. 

Mingyu hadn’t promised you a dinner date at a restaurant tonight —you both knew that wouldn't fit with his schedule. But he had promised to cook you something romantic, pour you a glass of wine, and then fuck you till you see stars. 

And being very honest, you think you would’ve loved that much more than a night out. Loved it so much, by the way you’re sneaking your hand into your panties. Pushing one, two fingers in; but it's never good enough—it'll never be Mingyu. 

So you quit early, stand up because you're tired of waiting around. He’ll be home tomorrow. You can wash up now, clean up and see him later. It’ll be fine. You can celebrate then, right?

★ . *- .

Mingyu didn’t think he’d be making up Valentines like this. When he thought about it on the way home, he had pictured at dinner out at your favorite restaurant, or flowers and an even bigger gift basket than the ones he had already bought for you. 

But, you didn’t hear the crack of the door, or the creek of the apartment floors when he walked in. You didn’t even hear when the loud thunk! when his work bag hit the floor. Or when he sets down the heart shaped pendant Joshua had picked out on top of a pink gift basket he had planned to give you much earlier.

He realized then, that you would not be waking up for a while. You were tired, basically passed out. He does feel bad for making you wait so long, but shit, he swears his cock never throbbed as hard as it did when he caught the sight of your sleeping figure curled up in bed. Only in a small tee and new pair of panties he got you a couple of weeks ago. Fuck, you look perfect.

So he went, took a shower and got dressed before laying next to you in bed. You murmur something when his arm wraps around you, snuggling into him. But you don’t wake up.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, slowly running his thumb over the skin of your cheek. He pokes you a couple of times with a finger. You look so cute—eyes shut with your mouth partially open. You might’ve been drooling even. 

His hand dips down to your torso, rests on your hip. He was nearly starting to fall asleep too, blinking in a poor attempt to keep himself up too. And right then, you just had to shuffle, pushing back against him. A small noise slips past his lips when the curve of your ass pressed against his clothed, semi-hard cock.

Poor Gyu, stuck in bed while you’re sound asleep. How’s he supposed to take care of that? He feels his cock twitch again, grip on your hip tightening just barely.

It wouldn’t be a problem if he just helped himself, right? Inhaling, his hand moves a bit further, hooking around the bottom of your panties. He prods against the warmth of your entrance pushing a finger in.

Fuck, you’re so wet. He can hear the sound of your slick when he presses another finger inside. It’s almost as if your cunt is begging for him to fuck you. And it’s only right that what his lovely wife and her pretty cunt wants, they get. 

Mingyu pulls his fingers out, sucks on it. Moving slowly, he climbs until he’s hovering over your still figure. There’s a tight feeling in his core, dick hard as pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. He pulls the waistband of his sweats down, groaning when cold air hits his cock. He spreads your legs a little wider, teases himself against your pussy.

Mingyu sees Heaven when the tip slips past your entrance. Swears he could cum on the spot. You’re so warm, so soft. It’s not his fault, you’re the one who lured him into this trap.

He can do a little more than the tip. You haven’t moved yet, still partially twisted one way with your legs spread wide for him. You were just made to take his cock, weren’t you?

He should have been making up Valentines with a picnic date in the park. Should have been thinking about what he’ll cook you for breakfast tomorrow morning, if he’ll deliver it to you with a card and a rose.

Instead, he’s got you trapped under him on the mattress, seemingly so passive and docile as you sleep, not conscious of the fact that he’s got you stuffed with his fat cock. He wonders if you’re dreaming about it now. You’re not necessarily a deep sleeper, so he’s surprised you don’t wake up when he bottoms out.

He doesn’t know what to say, can’t even speak. You feel so good, too good. Cunt wrapped around him, clenching. He’d kiss you if you were awake right now, but you’re not so he’ll settle with what he has. He fucks a soft thrust into you, watching for your reaction. Your breath catches, but you don’t do more than that.

“Perfect. You’re just perfect, baby.” He groans, pulling out until the tip before he forces himself back in. You let out a moan, arching so slightly. Mingyu thumbs your nipple through your shirt, speeding up the pace of his strokes.

He dips his head to press a kiss to your sternum, lips skimming and peppering kisses along your collarbone next. 

You twist just barely under his hold, eyes fluttering open. You’re still coming to, blurry eyes barely making out the sight of Mingyu’s body caging over you. Whining, you bite your down on your lip when you feel the stupidly fat cock slowly fucking into your cunt.

“Hey baby,” Mingyu murmurs, now kissing the side of your neck. Your whimpers get louder, and you move one arm and snake your it over his shoulder. He groans when you clench on him, sucking harder on your skin. “Don’t worry baby, daddy’s home.”

Tiredly, you rub your eyes with your free hand. There’s pleasure building in your stomach rapidly, and you start to force yourself to sink deeper onto his cock. “Gyu– daddy, please.” You cry, fucking back on him. 

You hear him hum in response, but you can’t answer. Not when he’s picking up the pace of his strokes, pushing hard, deep thrusts into your tight cunt. “Yeah baby? Come on, tell daddy what you need.” He teases, pushing your legs back before moving to grope your ass cheeks with his big hands.

Now that you’re awake, Mingyu tightens his grip, fucking into you harder. “Need Daddy to help you cum, hm?” He says, voice playful. As if he wasn’t the one whimpering and fucking himself into your pussy moments ago. 

“Couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He murmurs. His hips are starting to buck into your sloppily, You mewl, nodding. Pretty sure you might even be drooling but you couldn’t give a fuck. Everything feels too good, and you’ve got no idea what’s going on. Mingyu says something you can’t hear, kisses along your jawline before he presses his lips to yours.

You can barely make out the “Happy Valentines.” he whispers, cumming too hard. Your cunt clenching around his dick, mouth falling open. He wants to spit in it, call you a slut, but he can’t when he feels you pulse around his cock. 

Gyu’s eyes roll back, and he lets out a low hiss, warm cum filling up your cunt. His body flops over yours, sweaty chest pressing to the front of your shirt. You run a hand through his hair, kiss his nape softly. “Someones late,” you joke, voice breathy.

“I know. ‘M sorry.” he says, moving down so that his head lies on your chest. He loves the feeling of you tugging on his hair slightly, ruffling his hair.

He looks up suddenly, disheveled but handsome as ever. “I’ll make it up. Wine and spa?” 

You laugh, seeing the way he pouts. He looks like a giant puppy, cuddled up into you. You love it, love it so much you’re not even remotely bothered by the mess on cum or the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out. Pushing his hair back with a hand, you kiss him on the forehead once more. “Sure. Happy Valentines.”

didn't realize that even tho it's still valentines in my country, it's late in other places :( happy valentines! not beta read

[forsworned]

Author's note: for my sweet, sweet, @dmitriene , because you listened to me and went to bed instead of staying up like a maniac <3

The thing about Simon is, that he's always observing you. Whether you're stretching out on the couch in the commons because you've been sitting there for hours translating Russian military documents or the way you poke your tongue out in concentration as you hone your sights on any enemy through your sniper scope. Or even the smaller details like, when he's reading written reports and he doesn't even need to see your name signed at the bottom to know that it's your handwriting.

So it shouldn't come as a surprise when he's stripping off his black compression tee when you both get home from a long recon mission and he's pulling you to his side, pressing his bicep to your shoulder and your eyes are reaming. The dainty flower tattoo that you have etched below your clavicle is seemingly connected to his bicep that is a continuation of the stem with delicate little blossoms. It's still fresh, a raw red like he just got it a few days ago and you're literally in awe. The gesture was so small and yet so grandiose.

"So, I can hav' a piece o' ya anywhere I go." He murmurs, tracing the patterns of the leaves and stems of your tattoo.

Your eyes are welling up and he quickly thumbs them away, tilting your chin upward to place a chaste kiss to your lips and then to your forehead. "Don' get all emotional on me, dovie."

"Can't help it." You croak out, grinning from ear-to-ear as you touch the fresh black ink. He doesn't even wince a bit at your touch.

A piece of you.

Safe to say Simon is indeed a romantic.

[pileofmush]

In the dead of night, he crawls into your bed. 

Your eyes flutter open, but you already know who it is, for you are intimately familiar with the pad of his feet against the carpet. With the dip of your mattress underneath his weight. With the sense of calm that washes over you whenever he graces you with his presence. And that’s the best way to describe whatever you and the sorcerer have going on. Intimate—and familiar. 

You never know how to categorize it when your friends ask. 

Not friend, nor foe. Maybe both. Or maybe something in between?

There’s a tug of war inside your brain that struggles between wanting to tangle your legs with his under the soft press of your duvet, and wanting to climb atop him, wrap your hands delicately around his neck, and squeeze.

Most nights with him, you do neither. Just lie flat and stare up at the peeling ceiling tile, just barely illuminated by the midnight glow of the moon streaming through your blinds.

Some nights, you do both. Yuuta never seems to mind, either way. Says he just wants to be near you, as he wraps his limbs around you and pulls you to him, snugly. You play dead; go limp in his arms and count the warm puffs of air against the back of your neck like sheep.

It’s not normal, you know.

But it works for the two of you.

It goes like this: Okkotsu Yuuta is a lonely, lonely man, with too much heart and not nearly enough sense. 

It goes like this: You want to crawl into his skin, make home inside his chest.

And that’s really all there is to it. 

Tonight, you sit up and turn on the lamp that sits on your nightstand, casting a muted yellow glow over your surroundings. You blink, rub your eyes, and lift your head in greeting. 

“Hey,” he whispers, black eyes roving over you curiously. He seems alright—whole—though his shoulders sag with an inconceivable weight, and his eyebags speak of many sleepless nights. “What are you still doing up?” Gesturing to the clock on your nightstand that reads 3 am.

You hum. Press your tongue against your teeth. “Waiting for you,” you say, candidly. You understand he's a busy man. That he has responsibilities—'missions', he calls them. But it’s been two weeks since he last visited you. Far too long since the last time. Not long enough. 

At your admission, Yuuta’s mouth melts into a cotton-candy smile. “I missed you, too.”

…

You hadn’t said all that, but you’ll allow it.

Yuuta’s hand slips under the covers, searching for yours, and gives a firm, quick squeeze. He pulls away, reaches behind him and pulls off his navy blue sweater—the soft, cashmere one that you said would look good on him one relaxed day at the mall. The ministrations expose the taut, pale sheen of his skin as the hem of his tee slides up, and you have to breathe deeply to ground yourself.

He folds the sweater in his lap while you push the covers back, then leans over you to set it on your nightstand. Something about him hovering over you flips a primal switch within you, and without thinking you flip it so that it’s him on his back and you leaning above him. Yuuta, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye. Gets settled between your thighs and waits calmly for…

For you to inhale deeply; to breathe him in and try not to choke. His scent is a cloying, sickly sweetness. A poisonous flower, luring you to something sinister. Begging you to taste him and face the consequences.

It’s a sight to behold, his dark hair fanned out against your pillow, his darkening cheeks, and his dark, dark gaze that pins you in place. 

His hands rest on the back of your thighs, flexing assuredly, and your hands rest on his rising and falling chest, then slowly trail up, up, up, to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. You pinch his skin gently between your thumb and forefinger. Feel his pulse jump in his throat. 

He swallows, and you feel the lump of spit travel down his esophagus.

Intimate—and familiar. That’s what you are to Yuuta. Who else can say the same?

Not one. 

Your hands smooth down to his shoulders as you slowly bend to his ear. Goosebumps prickle across his flesh as you whisper, softly, “Text me the next time you’re going to be away this long.”

Yuuta’s shudder is sinful. 

“I won’t,” he croaks, then backtracks. “Take this long again. I promise.”

Your lips twist into a wry grin. “Good.”

ty for reading (๑´`๑)♡ for my lovely anon, rosie <3

[yeoslattes]

Cashmere

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 939

Pairings: Non idol!Hwa x fem!reader

Summary: Sleepy sex with Hwa, that's it

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex 🤘🏻, creampie, lazy sex, titty sucking

A/N: whipped this up in like 10 min (made it short and sweet), for some reason couldn't get soft lazy sex with Seonghwa out of my head...I recommend listening to Lana Del Rey while reading, enjoy!!

The soft glow of the lamp sitting on your bedside table illuminated your sleeping form cuddled into Seonghwa on the bed. You had spent the entire day deep cleaning your room, when Seonghwa made a surprise visit. You hung out with him as usual, joining him on animal crossing for a couple of hours and building Lego flowers together until the day's exhaustion caught up to you. You had laid silently next to Hwa as he scrolled on his phone until eventually sleep took over your body; Seonghwa followed shortly after.

Your bed was a plush nest of blankets, the fluffiness completely engulfing you and Seonghwa head to toe. You stirred awake, cracking your eyes open slowly, you moved in your spot, shifting on your back to relieve the tension on your shoulder. The more you come to, you realize the window had been left open allowing the fresh air of the spring night in and the soft music that was still playing on the small speaker. Peeking from behind Hwa the clock on the bedside table read only 8:30. You laid back carefully not to disturb Seonghwa and huffed, there goes my sleep for later, you thought.

Seonghwa however couldn’t be bothered, he laid on his side. Face relaxed and his chest rising and falling with even breaths. His hair that was now slightly longer than it had ever been, rested over his eyes. He stirs slightly, turning onto his back this time, he moans softly before becoming still once more. Your arm drapes over his torso and you feel this arm subconsciously move to wrap around you.

He felt warm and comfortable against you, the longer you peered up at his peaceful face the more you yearned for him. Despite being as close as humanly possible, you still needed more. You squirmed next to him again ,this time he wakes up, lifting his head up and looking at his surroundings. “Baby stop moving.” Seonghwa mumbles, dropping his head back on your pillow and stretching his legs out. You whimper next to him nuzzling your face into his chest and inhaling the fresh detergent that lingered on his white tee. His hand rubs up and down your back as his body fully tenses and then relaxes in a stretch. “What’s wrong?” He mutters gently, he’s fully looking at you now, “Hwa…want you.” You whimper, rubbing your thighs together hard, the heat between your legs burning hotter than ever. He lets out an airy laugh, and you pull yourself up to face him, you shyly press your lips against his. He stays still, letting your lips rest against his, a couple of seconds pass before his mouth starts moving against yours giving you the indication that he wanted you just as much.

As the kiss grows hungrier his hands pull you up onto him, thighs resting on either side of his hips and hands tangled in his messy hair. His hands run down your back to rest on your ass, pulling you down onto his hardness. You whimper into the kiss, “Hwa…now please.” You whine resting your head on his chest. Without uttering a word, he works on pulling your sleeping shorts to the side. “Hips up.” He whispers, you do as you’re told, holding your hips up as he pulls his own shorts down. One hand is wrapped around his cock and the other one pulling your shorts to the side, he rests the tip on your slick hole, you lower your hips down groaning softly at the sudden stretch. With your head resting on his chest you can hear his heart's sudden jump and his breathing turning heavy. “G-god Seonghwa…” you trail off, focusing on grinding your hips down on him. His hands pull on your hips helping you ride him slowly. He groaned at how warm and sticky you felt. “Good job baby, you’re doing so good.” Seonghwa whispers in your ear, you lift yourself up on shaky arms to kiss him, hips speeding up, eagerly chasing your release.

“S-eongh-wa,” your eyes close tightly, hands on either side of his head gripping the pillow tightly at the sudden burn of your release building up. Seonghwa watches you in adoration, the way your hair fell over your face and eyes closed tightly as you desperately fucked yourself on him. He lived for this kind of shit, his hands tug on the tank top you wore, hard nipples ready for his mouth. His hot tongue runs over the hard buds, the stimulation pushing you closer to your end. You gasp and whine out at the way your boyfriend helps you fuck yourself harder on him and the way his wet mouth feels on your chest. “I’m g- cum.” Spills from your pink bitten lips, Seonghwa runs his tongue over the expanse of your chest, eyes peering up at your face scrunched up in pleasure. He gasps as you shake on top of him, arms coming to wrap themselves over your waist and pulling you down flush against his chest as he reaches his own release. He feels your walls pulsing on him as he finishes with hot spurts of spunk covering your walls. You fight for air on top of him. The aftermath of your orgasm leaving you drained. You slowly roll off him, walls clamping down to keep his release within you. “So good baby,” Seonghwa mumbles, eyes beginning to close for a second time tonight, he pulls you into him. You shudder slightly at the breeze blowing in from the window, you close your eyes, drowning yourself in his scent till tomorrow morning.

[aesthetic-bbyg]

HEY EMO BOY - Bill K.

In which you dedicate your performance to your celebrity crush, but he doesn’t know until the press gets ahold of it.

Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader

AUTHORS NOTE: this idea may be floating somewhere on somebody else’s blog but this I just came up myself so I’m not trying to copy nobody! I also had to change some of the lyrics for the sake of the story! Thx bbyg’s <33

Pt 2!

YOU LET OUT A HEAVY BREATH, finishing up the song, you reached down for the bottle of water by your feet, chugging the last of it. The concert has reached it’s final song, and you’ve got an idea that you’ve been planning for weeks. The crowd is still booming with shrieks, practically making the whole place rumbled. A grin appeared on your lips as you walked over to the microphone.

“Can you guys keep a secret?” You questioned as the crowd yelled in return, you giggled and a felt an overwhelming feeling of joy fill your body. “Well, I have a huge crush on this guy who totally doesn’t know I exist.” A string of boos followed after. “You guys may know him, he’s German, he’s the lead singer of a band, I believe he has a twin brother.” Within moments the crowd began to screamed, realizing who it was, there weren’t many German lead singers who have a twin brother, well..not that you knew of. You had a proud smirk on you face, bitting your lip to contain more nervous giggles from slipping out. “I think he suuper hot, so I decided to make a song about him, you guys ready?”

“Yeah!” At the sound of their approval the song immediately began to sound through the massive speakers scattered through the stage. You gripped the bedazzled microphone in your neatly manicured hands, the lights flickered with pretty pink colors, radiating your signature color as it reflected off your diamond studded belt. You couldn’t contain the large smile as you lifted the mic to your mouth.

“Saw this boy at the mall last week, got the kinda look to me me freak!” You skipped around the stage, your denim mini shorts riding farther up your thighs then it already was. “That long ass hair with the tightest jeans, my chemical romance on his tee.” You ran a smooth hand down your body, exaggerating your attraction towards him. “He looked so sick like he was dying, if I said he wasn’t hot then I’d be lying. Please, handsome, don’t be coy. Come on fuck me emo boy!”

The repetition of the lyrics echoed throughout the large stadium, it was actually hilarious how such a large crowd of people jumped and shouted come on fuck me emo boy, over and over again. You giggled, raising the microphone back to your lips, “This boy just unlike the rest, one look and I bitch I loose my breath. Wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? Lift me up and then I drop it. He’s with his band, goin on tour. Should I go? Well, bitch, for sure!” Your favorite was coming up, it was a little explicit but what would be the fun if it wasn’t? “He might not look he gets bitches but honey that dick is eleven inches.”

With your pearly teeth out, your lips stretched into large smile you bounced around the stage, hearing the the beat blast into your ear drum. A collection of things were thrown onto the stage, it was a common reoccurrence during all your concerts. People would launched flowers, letters, bras, sunglasses, and far to many things that just piled up on the floor until you finished your set list and had all the gifts delivered to your dressing room. You admired your fans, the way their wristbands glowed in the dark night, the creative posters that were raised above their heads, it was hard to grasp onto it sometimes but the feeling never failed to make you proud.

“Hey, hey, hey emo boy!” The song had concluded, though the fans were far from quiet, you gave them a polite bow as the crew behind you began to pack up all the instruments. You were stuck in your spot, waving to all the giddy people who nearly broke down the barricade in excitement. “Thank you! Hugs and kisses to all of you who made it here tonight, I love you guys!” Your feet began to move towards the backstage, a part of you absolutely devastated that the show ended, but also relieved to get some rest. Although, before you could fully leave you jogged back over to the microphone. “And make sure to keep the song a secret from the emo hottie.” With that, you walked towards your assistant, Teresa, who held a bottle of water ready for you.

“You looked amazing, baby!” The dark haired girl giggled as you took the cool liquid and let it run down your sore throat.

“Thank you, I felt amazing!” You smiled, “Was the song good? It wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Absolutely not, the song was great, and I’m proud that you finally got around to preforming it.” Your assistant grinned, “It’ll definitely get his attention.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the goal.” You mumbled, looking over at your dressing room, ready to go in and remove all the makeup and heavy accessories you had on till you noticed that your name tag was gone from the front door. “Hey, what happened to my name tag?”

Teresa looked over, “Oh, they’re replacing it because Tokio Hotel is preforming here tomorrow.”

“What!” You nearly chocked on your water, eyes practically bulging out of your face as you stared back at your assistant. “Why didn’t you tell me that they were literally preforming here the day after me?”

“To be fair I didn’t know until they started moving stuff around.” Right as the words left her mouth a random man came over and slipped in a paper to the plastic cover on the front door. It wasn’t a mistake, the bold letter stated back at you: TOKIO HOTEL

“Well, I’m most definitely fucked.”

“BILL!” TOM PRACTICALLY ran across the tour bus, holding his baggy pants up in one hand while the other held a laptop. His twin sat on the couch, munching on a pack of sour candy. “Bill, you have to look at this!”

Bill stared at his brother with furrowed brows, wondering what has gotten him so giddy and grinning like a child. That was until the laptop was shoved in his face, some random article pulled up with some dramatized title that he didn’t even want to read. “What is this?”

“Read it!”

POP STAR, Y/N L/N WRITES EXPLICIT SONG TO GERMAN LEAD SINGER, BILL KAULITZ; COULD THIS BE THE START OF A NEW ROMANCE?

Bill’s fingers slid on the mouse pad, scrolling the through the article as his eyes quickly scanned the words in front of him. “This surely isn’t about me, Tom, it’s just fake news that they’re trying to shove down people’s throats.”

“Don’t be stupid, Bill, the y/n l/n is crushing on you and dropping subtle hints, hence, the song about wanting to fuck you.” Tom shook his brothers shoulders proudly, his grin wide.

A hue of red spread on Bill’s pale skin, clicking on the attached video that gave him the whole performance. Sure enough, there you were, singing a song about wanting to fuck an emo boy. “I don’t know, Tom.”

The oldest twin let out a groan, “Bill, she wants you, think about it. She’s our age and she says that the song is dedicate to a German lead singer who is touring with his band.” He had a good point, and that’s what made Bill smile a bit, it made a puff of pride filled his chest. “That’s what I’m talking about.” Tom laughed, “She wants you, Bill, and I wouldn’t want to pass up on that.”

“Enough.” Bill sheepishly smiled, closing the laptop and shoving into Tom’s chest, curling up on the couch as he felt a wave of heat wash over him. If the song was about him, and you meant what you said, then it really turned him on. He couldn’t help it, his already tight skinny jeans grew tighter.

“BILL, WHAT ARE YOURE opinions on y/n l/n new song about?”

“Bill is it true that you are y/n’s baby daddy?”

“Bill look over here!”

“Are you and y/n a couple?”

A flood of questions and bright, flashing lights came his way as he made his way towards the doors of the venue. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, attempting to move past the paparazzi and avoid there strange questions. His band mates followed behind him, struggling to keep up with him due to the crowding. He finally let out a breath of relief as he made his way inside. The flashing cameras replaced with colorful lights and the screaming substituted with the shaky bass of the music booming from the dance floor. Tom had already separated himself from the group, going off to the bar to try and find a new girl to bring to his hotel. Georg had dropped out, opting on talking with his girlfriend through phone all night instead. Gustav had also followed Tom to the bar, craving alcohol in his system.

The crowd of people were familiar, he had seen some of them at the event from before, there were many famous faces. Yet he stood by a wall, eyes looking around awkwardly, despite the many times he’d been to these events he always had to ease his way in throughout the night. After a few drinks he’d start getting loose, but for the moment he’d just scan the dance floor till he caught someone he knew.

That’s when he gaze was in trapped by a spark, a beautiful glow that confidently bounced on the dance floor, happily dancing. It was you, you were dancing with your friend, a half drunken drink in your hand while your swing your hips and shimmy you chest with a surge of confidence. The short dress having to constantly be tugged down your plush thighs, as you giggled, you felt something. A sense of being watched, but there was hundreds of people around, and a lot of them liked to stare.

You leaned into your friends ear, excusing yourself to the bathroom, you heels carried you to through the crowds of drunk people and to a small opening where you could go to the bathroom. Bill’s eyes watched your every move, were you coming towards him or was he fucking crazy? He nervously stared at you, your features became more clear, it was you. Y/n l/n. You were getting closer, he felt his breath hitch, what was he going to say? Well, he didn’t have to worry since you walked right past him, eyes not sparing him a glance as you rushed into a hallway. He furrowed his brows, staring as your figure disappeared, it was then that he noticed many people exiting and passing to enter the same hallway you just entered. He glanced up and saw the clear sight that read. RESTROOM.

He huffed, crossing his arms with a frown, maybe it was a sigh that he should talk to her but now it he had to wait till you walked back out. Finally, you left the restroom, shoving the lipgloss back into your bra and strutting out. You were excited to go back to dancing, a big smile on you lip, that was until a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist, tugging you back before you could go any farther. You looked back with furrowed brows, you had to crane you eyes up to look at who was the man behind the touch. You mouth went dry, eyes widening, your knees nearly giving out and dropping you on the dirty floor of the venue.

It was Bill fucking Kaulitz, the emo boy you made a whole song about. The song in which was leaked and slapped on every article with your name in the title. You were so happy that the lighting covered the blush that warmed your face. He leaned down, lips brushing you ear, hand still wrapped on on your wrist.

“Hey, I’m Bill.” His hot breath fanned against the shell of your ear, he could smell the faint scent of your perfume, it was intoxicating. “I like your music.” He pulled away, a smug smirk on his face as you swallowed the lump in your throat. His accent was much more hotter in person then it was in the interviews you watched on TV.

“T-Thank you.” You replied, but he simply gave you a confused look. You sighed, attempting to reach his ear, “I said thank you, I like your music as well.”

He nodded, “Thank you, it seems as though one of your songs has gotten quite popular, people have told me all about it.”

You needed to pull yourself together, this was a moment you’ve been waiting for and you couldn’t back down. So you rubbed your lips together, spreading the shiny, sticky gloss. You gazed up at him through your lashes, a flirty smile on your face. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d say.”

“Yeah?” He raised a pierced brow, “Why’s that?”

“You’re the only one I wrote the song for, of course.” You giggled, watching his expression change, he was surprised on how upfront you were about it. You were proud, cocky almost, it turned him on. “So, did you like it?” He nodded in response. “You wouldn’t mind doing what the lyrics say, do you?”

“No.” He replied, watching your smile widen. “I can take you back to my hotel and do exactly what you want me to do, schatz.”

You were getting giddy, you running a hand up his arms, staring up at his smoky eyes with lust. You bit your bottom lip, “Can you kiss me?” A small smirk played on his lips as he leaned down, leaving a slow kiss on your lips. Your hands were on his cheek, leaning up and desperately kissing his lips. His hands wandered, feeling you up in the tight pink dress you were in. Though his same hands seemed to favor a spot in particular, you ass, they ran up and down your sides before they eventually planted themselves there. His head was titled to the side, neck curved down to reach your height and to continue kissing your additive lips. He pulled away, lips sticky with you gloss before he trailed it down to your jaw and neck, his cheeky hands squeezed the flesh. You gasp, allowing him to suck lightly while the music blasted in your ears but it was all tuned out as you focused on the sensation of his tacky lips kissing your skin.

You were most definitely gonna fuck this emo boy tonight.

Y’ALL WANT A PART TWO W SMUT? Either way I’ll probably write one bc this game out better then I expected🤭🤭🤭

[astralnymphh]

super high Ellie getting off with a toy to the thought of you while you’re gone 🤭 I just know she’d squirt everyone tbh and her words would be so slurred together she wouldn’t even be making any sense

omgg.. yes yes yes!! just woke up but I'm using asks as my morning writing prompts to get my brain cogs grinding 🙃 MDNI!! return of the mama petname ☠︎︎

super high!ellie who couldn't even shuffle her sweats down all the way to play with her dumb achy pussy. like, the fabrics all bunched at her mid–thigh. the hem of her shirt would probably be pushed up to expose her perky tits, just so she could elevate the vibrator every now and then from her clit to encircle her nipple in the buzzing rod– cause again, sensitive nipple ellie. her nipples are most definitely hyper tender on weed. they poke through the fabric of her thin fabric tees and get soo irritated chafing against the cotton lining.. and her nipples get so sore and throb when toyed with. ౨ৎ but alas, the vibrator sails its merry way back to her smeary pussy that's been choking the emptiness of her hole ever since she brought the toy away. so, now that she's back, she draws the whirring bulbous tip through her sex sleek folds and begins to trace circles once more, creasing up her labia and dragging the delicate puff around with the vibrator stamped to her clit, eyes rolled back she's been fuckin possessed. opaque white of her eyes on view. but gods and goddesses above how her abs and glutes would clench and flex while her pelvis squirms of pleasure torture, the flowering knot tauting inside her core driving her mad. slurs the utmost of the most, playing pretend as if you are a voyeur to her theatrical pussy play, dramatic, "yesh yess– babyyy, unghhhhh fuck m' pushy like tha– jus' li' that jush' likee.. mhh–! m' cum all over yoursh.. squirt on tha pretty puss.. fuck!" her lips shaping the words at a barren inch, flubbing rather, a quiet shrill across her teeth as her gob deficiently governs all the sexy things she would usually whisper upon your own hazy ears. the scent of her own pussy would also have her fucked up north to south– brain egged to hasten her motions while her pussy just secretes more of that glistening slick that fogs her brain up with such a lovely scent, oh if only it were yours. at the heightening portion of her unstable climax– due to accidently sliding the vibing tip off her clit and giving her left asscheek some whirring attention for a full minute before realization settles on her slushy brain– she would legit push the most stifled grunts ever, constructing her pelvis and bulging her cunt out cause she was trying to squirt a lil' too early, gets frustrated and slaps the rubber head of it, only resulting in a jittering mess of her hips that her flimsy wrist could not follow, so she digs the tip into her clit and, splash. her legs snap open in a spread– kicking off those restrictive sweats, feet a fingerbreadth off the mattress, and squirts everywhere. spurts of it like a water jet, soaring over the dim radiance of an amber lamp in the distant corner of your shared room. it probably starts at a low, weak pressure– squirt drizzling between her ass, then boosts into a geyser viable of changing the weather predictions. her lashes crumple in the tight screwing of her lids, nostrils furrow back and get super orangey–vermillion from all the muck sweat brought upon by her pooling pores, those pretty cupid lips press together and stretch as her cheeks tug and infllate– her face of climax. bro is the type to buck her hips into the air while cumming too, protrudes out that charming auburn bush soiled in lubricous finish, clenching up her bootycheeks like she got tazed. would say such dirty shit, slurred, "ohhh fuck, mhh– squrr' all over that pretty– scchlp–" licking up slobber, "pretty facshe, fuuhhh' makin mama' all dirty– wih my cum, uhuh.." all in a grizzly tone.

death. is what that just felt like. a likeness of pussy death incarnate. bro would lay there, like a puddle of mush all limp, knees straightened and plane to the bed, mouth stranded agape and eyes striving to stay open. no agglomeration of thoughts is processing correctly behind those eyes of death. for minutes, she just lies in her own slicken squirtshed. thennn her brain wakes up a bit and persuades some twitch of life to jerk. her legs curl up, torso cranes upright and confronts the blasphemous gully of cum damp under her butt. her pussy is absolutely bloated, reddened and sappy still. gives two dumbstruck eyes towards it, like blankly gawking and then manages to gain some sort of sense and druggily shifts out of bed, mumbling, "mm' nee' t'clean up, she can't see this.." but little does she know you'd probably walk in on her, steeped in a sloppily prepared bath– fingering herself after such a crime was committed to her tired pussy lips, only to reanimate and beg for more. gives you the most guilt–ridden expressions while you examine the curl of her knuckles riding her slender fingers inside, gently moving against her walls, thankfully visible in the pure clear water. whines, "m'sorry, couldn' wait." and then flows into a grumble, "kept fuckin' throbbing, when I thought 'bout you." visage developing into one of 'yeah, I did that' while she throws her calves over the bathtubs' rims, inviting you with open legs– "wanna' teach my pussy a lesson, hmm?"

idk how off the rails i went but im a slut for ellie pleasuring herself all dumb.

COMPLIMENTARY JIZZSHOTS

[disneyprincemuke]

the thanksgiving incident * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver

notes: my deepest apologies for not posting today, a migraine had me down bad and wishing i was dead but it's okay i'm bad baBY LETS FUCKING GO

| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship |it's nice to have a friend |

come up to my hotel room

you stare at your message in the blue bubble, trying to assess the lack of response from the younger driver. you press your fingertips into your lips and turn around. "do you think he now thinks i'm trying to hit on him?"

george, with a balloon in his mouth, stops blowing into it briefly and stares at you. he pinches the opening of the latex decoration and tilts his head at you. "what did you text him?"

"hopefully not," alex speaks, walking past you from his previous spot at the entryway. in his hands is a medium-sized bowl of mashed potatoes. "that would be weird."

"i just texted him to come up here," you say, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

"you didn't say anything else?" george asks.

you shake your head.

"that's kinda misleading," alex mutters. "has he read it yet?"

"he left me on read," you mutter, pursing your lips. "seriously, guys! what if he thinks i'm hitting on him?"

alex shakes his head. "everyone on the grid knows you're on and off with shawn. it's impossible that logan thinks you're making a pass on him."

you raise your eyebrows. "did logan tell you that?"

there's a knock on the door, cutting george's wish to reply short. he looks at you before he resumes blowing into the balloon in his hands. you look at alex, who simply shrugs and turns away to untie the plastic on the small table of your hotel room.

you sigh and push yourself off the bed, walking over to the door slowly. "who is it?"

"it's logan!"

you huff and wipe your palms into the material of your sweats. you pull the door open and the greeting at the tip of your tongue immediately disappears when there is a singular sunflower in logan's hand.

"what is that?" you ask with a hand on the door handle.

"it's a," logan clears his throat and follows your gaze at the sunflower in his hand, "a sunflower."

"i know what a sunflower looks like," you answer softly, "but why is it in your hand and why are you holding it up?"

"well, you texted me without context, by the way," logan starts, taking a step away from you to throw himself back into the hallway, "and i didn't know what to make out of it. so i... i don't know. i got you a sunflower."

he extends his hand to offer you the flower once more.

"i told you!" you screech, turning around to call for george and alex. "i fucking told you!"

logan, out in the hallway, grows confused. he tilts his head. "what?"

"i- the text," you cut yourself off as the severity of the situation gets to you. you turn around to face logan. it's only then you realise that he made the effort to look presentable, sporting a nice pair of shorts and a polo tee. "i asked you to come up here because we prepared you a thanksgiving dinner."

you press your lips together, fighting back tears when a blush creeps up logan's cheeks. you watch as realisation slowly hits him and his jaw drops. "oh."

"yeah," you breathe out. you look down at the flower and take it into your hands. "this is very thoughtful. thank you."

"yellow flowers are a sign of friendship."

"are you rejecting me?"

"are you fucking around with me? is this a prank?"

"no, i'm just offended that the first thing you thought of was a subtle way to let me down."

"i didn't know what to say to you. you're very pretty," logan readjusts his shirt and clears his throat, "but like- you know?"

"i guess," you shrug. "would you like to come in?"

"wait, you prepared me a thanksgiving dinner?" logan asks softly, hesitantly following you inside. he slips off his shoes right by the door and lets the door shut. "me?"

"of course! i figured you'd want to celebrate it. it's nothing like home or what your family could give you," you hum, stepping aside as he gawks at the decoration that george poorly put up. "but i thought you might like to at least spend the night with people instead of being all by yourself in your hotel room."

"i- i don't know what to say," he whispers, a smile slowly growing on his face as he looks around. there's a picture of a turkey stuck on the wall, a couple of balloons taped above the tv and an entire meal prepared on the table. "thank you. this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"we couldn't find a turkey on such short notice so," alex mutters, patting his rookie on the back. he points at the far corner of the table, where there is a stuffed animal of a turkey resting on a plate. "the genius decided to opt with a toy."

"a toy that he gets to keep!" you shriek, a hand on your chest. you turn to logan. "i'm sorry i texted you to come up without context."

"tell shawn i'm sorry i thought you wanted to hook up with me."

"we're on a break."

logan pulls a chair out from under the table and grabs a plate for himself. "then tell him i'm sorry he's stupid for breaking up with you." he takes another and offers it to you. "dinner?"

[ioniansunsets]

HOW DOES HEARTSTEEL SMELL LIKE

Kayn smells like Cigarette smoke and Sauvage Dior whatever popular cologne he can find. But his hair always smells like really sweet shampoo that somehow leaks into that horrendous mix of smoke and way too strong cologne. As you lean in close for a kiss, you can almost taste the smoke. Did he even smoke? Or was it that he loves talking to the other punk rockers that chill around after Pentakill's concert. You're not sure, you'll ask him after his lips leave yours.

Sett smells like the tm Ocean Spray, Ice Cool etc deodorant. Stereotypical man smell. He knows he sweats easily and does his best to keep any odor away! You've seen how he carries extra tees around, and even seen the wipes he keeps in his bag. But, if you hold him tight, you can still smell the soft downy scent of a simple softener wafting off his clothes. Trust him to try to smell clean and manly for you.

Yone smells like coffee mixed in with a green tea softener from his clothes and the very clear scent of cypress? Where did that come from? As you press your face into neck and his hair falls past your face as he leans down, you realize its incense from his room that settled in his hair. You nod, now understanding why sometimes he smells different, depends on what incense he burns while he meditates every morning then.

K'sante smells heavenly, a warm sage kind of scent mixed in with sandalwood. He always smells good, it eludes you how he can work out with Sett and still come out smelling so tasty. Only when you reach up to hold him close can you sniff out a fresh citrus off his skincare routine. When you ask he just shrugs, telling you he just uses good soaps and wipes.

Ezreal smells weird, but not in a bad way! It just always changes, he doesn't have one true smell to himself. Somedays he smells like flowers, somedays he smells like rain. Today, as he bounds up to hug you, giving you a kiss on your cheek, you smell a fancy vanilla wafting up. You think back to how you've never seen cologne in his room but instead rows of small tester perfumes that companies gifted him to review. Must be nice being an influencer.

Aphelios doesn't have a smell. You can smell the small hints of lavender softener Alune uses on his clothes, you can smell the plasticky scent of a new mask fresh out of its packaging, you can smell some hint of fruity hairdye off his hair but nothing that really screams Aphelios. Even when you lean in to kiss him, all you really smell and taste are the very soft hints of whatever scent his lipbalm has.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Tee ball season is almost over, and the Tiny Eagles are still undefeated. You are starting to feel bolder in your personal life, like you are ready to claim everything you are entitled to. And Bradley is subtly letting you know he's along for more than just the ride.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Only two more weeks of tee ball left," Molly murmured as she sipped her coffee next to you on the bleachers. 

You paused to think about that. It was only two months ago that you met Bradley, and a lot had changed since you caught yourself stuttering in his presence that first day. After he brought you flowers and lunch to work on Wednesday, he'd met you at your house that night. One thing led to another, and now you knew Bradley loved being called Lieutenant Bradshaw in bed. 

"Two more weeks," you agreed. You'd be sad when tee ball ended, but Bradley had been telling you for the past week since the Phillies game that he'd work on some skills with Everett during the summer. 

"Go Ev!" Molly shouted when he hit the ball really hard and scored a run against the Tiny Robins. It was Crazy Socks day, and Everett had talked you into ordering him a pair from the Phillies website. You had a second pair stashed away for Bradley's birthday, which you found out from Bob was a week after Everett's.

You clapped along with your sister as you watched Everett run the bases in his red and white striped socks, but your mind was wandering elsewhere. 

"You know what you said about Danny last time we talked about him?" you asked, and Molly scoffed. 

"You mean how I called him an incompetent man-child? Or how I told you he doesn't deserve to lick the bottoms of your shoes?"

"Neither," you replied, smiling as both Bradley and Bob waved in your direction at the same time. You waved your fingers at Bradley and smiled. "I'm actually talking about child support. And the fact that he never pays it."

"Ohhhh, you wanna have that conversation now?" Molly asked, giving you a bland look. "Ev is almost seven years old."

"Yeah," you replied softly. 

You could see the fire in Molly's eyes, but she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You've paid for everything. Take him to court. Seriously. Please, take him to court. I would love nothing more than to help you pay for it. Who's your lawyer? I'll send them a check today."

"I don't need your money," you told her firmly for the hundredth time. But now you were finally feeling like you wanted to do something about this. Why had you been okay with letting Danny get away with so much shit before? Everett deserved the whole world, and you were going to try to give it to him. "I'm going to give him one more chance to either be more involved with Ev or start paying for support."

Molly set her empty cup down and said, "Look at me." You met her eyes, and she looked much more serious than she usually did, which gave you a chill. "What are you going to do when Danny won't do either of those things?"

You pressed your lips together to keep the tingling sensation of tears out of your eyes and nose. "I'm going to stop being a doormat."

Molly kissed your cheek and pulled you against her side just as the game was ending. 

------------------------------

"Still undefeated!" Everett cheered as Bradley carried him on his shoulders up to the parking lot after the game against the Tiny Robins ended in a victory for the Tiny Eagles.

"Hey, Coach Bob," Bradley called, and Bob turned around, still holding Molly's hand. "You better start writing your speech for when you win Coach of the Year. The team is undefeated with two games left!"

"You'll have to give a speech, too," Bob said as he adjusted his glasses. "The award goes to both coaches, not just one."

"Undefeated! Undefeated!" Everett chanted. You were walking next to Bradley shaking your head and smiling. 

Bradley looked at you as he said, "Ev is the best on the team, Kitten. He's really good." Everett continued to chant as Bradley added, "I'm going to plan out the whole summer with visits to the batting cages, pitching in the park, and learning more about all of the different positions. He'll be ready for baseball next spring. No more tee ball." Bradley couldn't remember being this excited about baseball since he was a kid trying out for his first team. 

"He's really that good at it?" you asked. "Thank goodness I signed him up for tee ball."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed, "for more than one reason."

You opened the back door to your car, and Bradley deposited Everett into his booster seat at the same time that Molly climbed in through the other door and tried to buckle herself into the seat. Bradley chuckled while Everett practically screeched with laughter, and then you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"I'm going to buy tickets for the Pittsburgh Pirates game on Everett's birthday," you told him. "Molly and Bob are coming, too."

Bob perked up when he heard his name. "No, Molly and I are going to buy all the tickets. For his birthday present."

"I thought I'd get them for everyone," Bradley said with a frown. "My treat, again."

"I already bought them!" Molly shouted from inside the car as Everett tickled her until she was wheezing. 

"She's so annoying," you said, resting your head against Bradley's chest. "She wants me to save my money for my lawyer."

Bradley jerked his head back and coaxed you to look up at him. "A lawyer for what?"

"Don't worry about it," you whispered before you returned to snuggling against him. 

But he wanted to know what was wrong. "Are you okay? Is Ev? Is this about Danny? What can I do?"

"We're okay, Bradley."

"Kitten. You can talk to me about it."

"I know," you replied, squeezing him tighter. "We're okay for now."

"Well, that's settled then," Molly said as she climbed out of the car with her clothes all dishevelled. "Everett defeated me in the tickle fight, so I owe him a movie. I'll pick him up tomorrow after lunch."

You looked up at Bradley with a smirk on your face. "Any chance you're free for a little bit tomorrow after lunch?"

----------------------------------

Later that night, you called Danny after sending him texts throughout the day telling him you needed to talk to him.

You were happy you had waited until Everett was in bed to make the call, because as soon as Danny answered with a bark of, "Yes?" you felt anxious. 

"Danny," you replied, gripping the edge of the counter so you wouldn't lose your resolve. "Hi."

"What do you need? I'm trying to work."

You squeezed the counter harder and took a deep breath. "Let me know when you have time to spend a day with Everett. I think you need to make that more of a priority."

You were met with silence. 

"Danny?"

"I'm here. You know I don't have time for this."

You pressed your lips together and held back your tears. "He is your son, Danny. You need to make time for him."

More silence spread out before you. Honestly, you wanted to start screaming into the phone, but you knew you shouldn't. Nobody could upset you with just a small handful of words the way your ex husband could.

When you got no response, you took a deep breath and said, "If you're not going to give him some of your time, then you need to start making up for it by paying us child support."

"Child support?" he asked with a laugh. "You know I don't have a steady income like you do." 

You took a deep breath. "I understand that, but providing for Everett shouldn't solely land on my shoulders here, Danny."

"Listen," he replied smoothly. "I have a huge gallery event coming up next month. I'll probably have some more spending money then."

He was trying to manipulate you the way he always had. You'd spent years listening to him try to validate his excuses, and somehow he always got you to agree with him. You didn't need to fall into these traps any longer. Not when you had Molly in your corner. Not when you knew Bradley cared about Everett's happiness.

"Taking care of your son doesn't fall under the same category as extraspending money." You said it before you gave yourself a chance to process your words, and somehow you felt a little stronger. "So then I guess he can come spend a day with you instead?"

"Fine," Danny snapped immediately. "But I'll probably be working, so he's going to have to play on his iPad or something."

His iPad that you paid for. "Sure," you agreed, knowing this was probably too good to be true. "He's going to love to see you no matter what. So how does next Sunday sound?"

And then you ended the call feeling better than you ever had after a conversation with Danny. You poured yourself a glass of wine and carried it up to your bathroom. You filled your tub while you removed your makeup, and then you sank down into a delicious bubble bath. 

You texted Molly about your conversation, and she wrote back saying SLAY YOU QUEEEEEN BITCH. DO NOT FUCK WITH MY SISTER. 

You were still laughing when Bradley texted to ask what you were up to. He had gone out to that aviator hangout bar with his friends, so of course it made you feel even giddier that he was texting you while he was there. 

When you told him you were in the bath he wrote back while you sipped your wine.

Bradley Bradshaw: Pics or it didn't happen

You snorted into your wine glass and took some strategically posed selfies. Finally you took a good one where the swell of your breasts was pronounced above the bubbles, and your knee was peeking above the water next to your glass. You sent it to him, and you did not have to wait long for a response. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Kitten, please baby, you're teasing me. I can only take so much.

You laughed and sent him a second photo where he could see your nipples.

Bradley Bradshaw: You are so fucking hot. And now my dick is hard. In the middle of a game of pool. 

You sent teasing texts back and forth while you finished your wine, and he reminded you that he'd be there tomorrow afternoon. And then he sent you a list of all the dirty little things he wanted to do to you. You dreamed about his mouth and his mustache all night long.

And the next day, as soon as Molly picked Everett up to take him to see the movie, you ran up the stairs, two at a time and dashed into your room. You dug around in the bottom drawer of your dresser and pulled out everything you needed. Bradley would be here in just a few minutes, and you'd been wet and worked up for him since last night.

You shimmied into the tight black bodysuit and fastened the choker around your neck before securing the ear headband in place as well. Then you found some sheer black socks that went up over your knees and added them to your Kitten outfit. When you looked in the mirror, you squealed with delight. You turned and checked yourself from different angles. Not bad. Not bad at all. 

You were thinking about how Bradley barely even got a chance to touch you the last time you wore this kitten costume that day at tee ball. You were thinking about how you bought this outfit just for him in the first place. When you heard the Bronco pull into your driveway, you were practically squeezing your legs together to keep from moaning. 

When you made it to the bottom step, you heard Bradley's key in the door, and somehow that made you even hotter. You were afraid you were going to jump on him, so you kept your hand wrapped around the bannister as he opened your front door. 

"Hi, Coach," you said, your voice laced with need as you waved your fingers at him. 

"Oh, god." His groan was so deep and loud, you clenched around nothing as he blindly slammed and locked the door. He let his keys, wallet and hat fall right to the floor as you whimpered. 

"Coach." Your voice quivered as he approached you slowly. "Bradley."

You almost matched up to his height as you were still standing on the bottom step. He was close to you now, licking his lips and breathing faster. He let his knuckles trail slowly up and down over your bodysuit between your breasts, and soon you were panting for him. 

His grin was smug as he asked you, "Did you wear this for me?"

You nodded your head as he stroked your hard nipples through the thin fabric. "Just for you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

And then his head tipped back as he groaned, and you felt so powerful. You guided his hand down your belly and between your legs, and he met your eyes again. "You're already wet."

"I've been wet since we were texting last night," you admitted. And then you were draped over his shoulder with his big hand on your butt while he hauled you back upstairs. 

-----------------------------

Bradley had been thinking about you in your Kitten costume for weeks, but he hadn't been expecting you to be wearing it today. It was even filthier looking this time, as you paired it with black socks that hugged your thighs instead of your jeans. You skipped the whiskers, but you were wearing your choker. Your collar.

As he took you up to your bed, you were whimpering his name as he stroked his fingers along your ass and your thighs. You were soaking wet. He could feel it when he dug his hand between your legs to tease you as he reached your bedroom.

When he set you down, you crawled across the bed, showing off your ass for him before you settled with your back against the pillows. Bradley was tearing his shoes off followed by his clothing as he watched you run your hands over your bodysuit, squeezing your tits. 

"Do you have any idea what you look like right now?" he asked, crawling across the bed to get to you.

"A Kitten?" you asked softly, fingers skimming over your taut nipples. 

"My Kitten," he growled. "You look like you're mine. My own personal Kitten with a wet pussy and filthy red lips." He kissed you hard, pushing your head back against the pillow while he ran his fingers along the strip of fabric that was barely covering your slit. 

When you moaned into his mouth, he released your lips in favor of running his nose and tongue along that sinful red choker on your neck.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir," you whined, and his cock ached with need. "Please."

He was sucking on all of your exposed skin, tasting every inch. You were grinding up against his hand as he palmed your core through your bodysuit. "I'll take care of you," he promised, kissing your choker and your necklace chain at the same time. "You keep your claws tucked away like a good girl, and I'll take such good care of you."

Then he released the snaps between your legs that were keeping you concealed, and the bodysuit was open. You rubbed yourself against his knuckles, and his fingers slid right through your slick slit. You shook your head against the pillow, and your headband with the ears went a little crooked. 

"I am so turned on," you gasped. "I don't think I have ever been this turned on before."

You were whining for him and rubbing your stocking covered leg along his cock. But your eyes were still alert, and he wanted them glazed and fucked out. 

"I'm gonna eat your pussy," he told you, nibbling your nipples through the fabric as you gasped in agreement. "But I'm not going to stop until I'm ready to. Does that sound okay?"

"Yes sir, Coach Bradley, sir!"

"Kitten, look at me," he said, still stroking your clit softly with his knuckle. "That means I decide when you're done."

"Yes!"

And then he put his mouth on your pussy, and it was exquisite. Just like last time. But maybe even better, because he was going to make you lose your mind for him. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and spread you open wide, kissing your hole as he buried his nose in your wetness.

He started off slow, teasing and licking, and then your fingers were in his hair. Your little gasps and words of encouragement made him smile, but as soon as he took your clit between his lips, you got loud. Really loud. Bradley was delighted that you could be as loud as you wanted to, because he was addicted to the feel of your smooth pearl, your perfect clit under his tongue.

"Bradley!"

You were thrusting up against his face, and he dipped his tongue inside you as your wetness coated his chin. He loved this. He loved eating pussy. He knew he was good at it. But you were too perfect. Everything he liked. Everything he wanted. He needed you. He released your left leg and shoved two rough fingers inside you as he eased himself up your body to kiss those pretty red lips. 

"You taste so fucking good. Like a damn kitten in heat," he told you as you ran your tongue along his chin. You kitten licked his face and whimpered while he finger fucked you harder. Your hands wound tight up in his hair were a little painful, but it just made him go harder. 

Your eyes were already starting to drift closed and he kissed you, smiling against your mouth. "Remember. You're done when I say you're done."

His words made you keen, and he could feel you starting to squeeze his fingers as he put his mouth back on your clit and sucked gently. That first orgasm came screaming out of you as your hips bucked and shook against the mattress. But Bradley was already working on the next one as you gasped his name over and over again.

With his tongue moving in languid strokes as you started to calm down, Bradley managed to coax you close to the edge again. This time you released his hair in favor of wrapping your hands in your pillowcase. 

"What the fuck," you gasped, gaping at him and meeting his eyes as you rode his tongue to another orgasm. Your forehead was scrunched up in disbelief as you gasped, sounding scandalized that he did it twice.

But he wasn't done yet. He ground his cock down into your bedding, bucking for some relief against the delicious show that all of his senses were being treated to. Because now you looked truly exhausted, and your fingers were unable to get purchase in his hair. He kissed and nibbled on your inner thigh as he ran his calloused fingertips over your sensitive, overworked clit until you were whining softly. 

"It's okay, Kitten. I love you," Bradley promised, and you nodded wordlessly. And sure enough, after several more minutes, you hiccuped a few times as you came again for him. Your pussy softly pulsing around his middle finger as you gasped had him palming his cock. 

He was about to cum. Quickly, he positioned himself so he was on his knees with your left thigh between his legs. He never removed his middle finger from inside you while he stroked himself a half a dozen times. And then he was spurting his cum all over your pussy and your belly and your bodysuit. 

You didn't even seem to know what was going on as you shook your head against the pillow and wiped at your tears. 

"You okay?" he asked softly, and he smiled. Because your eyes were glazed, your face looked fucked out, and your body was limp, connected to his by his one finger inside you. "God, you're fucking glorious."

A soft laugh escaped your lips while Bradley stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you nuzzled against him like a kitten.

---------------------------

You had your arms draped lazily around Bradley's neck as he showered with you. For a split second, he had been nervous that he might have ruined your bodysuit when he came, but you assured him you could always buy another one. Honestly, you thought the splashes of his white cum on your skin and the dark fabric looked sinfully good. 

"You gonna wear that outfit again for me?" he asked, running his fingers along the little paw print charm he got you where it rested next to your collarbone. 

"Do you really need me to?" you challenged. "You just took a bunch of photos of me half wearing it with your cum all over me. Shouldn't that be enough?"

He kissed you, gently pulling your bottom lip between his before he said, "No way. Those are for when I'm deployed. I'm gonna want the real thing again and again."

You felt a jolt of reality. "Do you know when you're getting deployed again? Do I need to start preparing myself to miss you?"

"No," he murmured, kissing along your neck as the spray from the shower calmed you. "When I find out, you'll be the first to know, Kitten. And I must admit," he added, pausing on a deep inhale that left you with bated breath, "I do love the idea of being missed. By you. And Ev."

You didn't know what to say as you snuggled up against him for a few minutes before you eventually turned off the water. You'd been in a relationship with him for a week. One week. And you already daydreamed about when he'd move in with you. You were already thinking about where all of his stuff would fit in your house. But it was too soon. And you didn't know if he'd want to permanently be here at all. 

But you did say, "Everett and I already miss you when we're not with you," and he smiled. 

"Speaking of Ev," he said, drying off his legs. "It's getting late. Do you want me to be here when they get back?"

You only had to consider that for a beat. "Yeah."

Bradley met your eyes as he pulled his underwear on. "Can I help him with his homework? Or do something else to make things easier for you?"

In that moment, you wanted to tell him everything that had happened on the phone with Danny. You wanted to tell him that you and Molly had talked about a lawyer. But all you said was, "I love you."

------------------------- 

Kitten dressing as the kitten again. Kitten making demands of Danny. Kitten getting what she deserves from Coach! Love to see it. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 19

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[annasfantasies]

Dates with Alex Turner

/alex turner x fem!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Credits to whoever took this photos

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Pairing: Alex Turner x fem!reader

Summery: my thoughts about what is Alex like on dates

Warnings: fluff, mention of teasing, my English, short

Word count: 356

ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

-He definitely takes you out for at least once a week

-restaurants, picnics, bookshoping dates, strawberry picking, walking in park

-‘going to concerts of your favourite bands and singers together’ kind of date

-He gives you flowers every single time

-He Gets inspired by you and writes his ideas into his old small brown notebook that he takes everywhere with him

-you take your camera with you to take photos of him and him stealing it from you to take photos of you

-a lot of sweet kisses - on your cheeks, nose, forehead, the crown of your head, jaw, the back of your hand

-if you’re having picnic he is definitely laying on your thighs and kissing them + if you’re wearing knee socks then is is definitely playing with them

-he stares at you a lot, doesn’t even look away when you catch him

-says “I love you” a lot and when I mean a lot I mean A. LOT.

-when you guys are walking he is either holding your hand or have his arm around your shoulders or waist or you are holding onto his arm

-a lot of sweet nothings whispered into your ears

-gives you small presents - Pandora bracelet and the pendants, necklaces (with his initial of course), books, bookmarks, love letters, short poems about you, keychain, rings, photos is you tee with something sweet written on the back of it, something like “I love you, my love” “to my beautiful girl/wife”

-makes sure he compliments you

-if you’re sitting next to him his arm is either around your shoulders, waist or he is holding your thigh or hand, whatever makes you comfortable

-flirts with you so much that you’re blushing all the time, he loves seeing you so shy

-teases you just as much

-cracks jokes just to see you smile and hear you laugh

-loves it when you flirt with him too, his cheeks are always painted in light pink

-when you’re walking he randomly stops you, grabs your cheeks and presses the most loving kiss ever onto your lips

-glares at anyone who even tries to check you out

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

A/N: hey guysss💗 wanted to thank you all for the love you showed to my previous posts, I really appreciate🫶🫶 if you find and mistake please let me know‼️

[leclsrc]

could i get a carlos imagine where you have commitment issues and he calms you down? as a girlie with commitment/trust issues i just wanna b repped in one of ur fics/drabbles :/// it's tuff out here brotha

bring you home — cs55

Moving in together gets difficult. Carlos is there to ease you along. title from this

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy this!!! i too am a commitment-afflicted girl ..... it truly is tough lol. but i hope u find the right person who helps u put ur anxieties to rest <3 insp by a scene from satc i saw on tiktok

It started with a duck. But the duck started with the box. And the box started with a toothbrush joke. And the toothbrush joke started with your old lady neighbor moving out. So really, it started with Mrs. McDonnell and her massive moving van rolling down the street and leaving the flat next door empty. Somehow that old hag had managed to irritate you long after she left, albeit through means not her own.

In terms of time, it started a month ago. In terms of people (sans the old bitch), it started with Carlos, as so many of your stories do. “Mrs. McDonald finally moved out today,” he’d said, hip against your stove, watching bits of garlic turn from pale to brown. From the living room you hummed affirmation and then laughed: “McDonnell.”

“Donald, Donnell, Dinero,” he rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s moving in and out. Charles bought a new place in Monaco.”

“Well,” you shrugged, fixing the ridden-up hem of your tank top, “you could have an extra toothbrush in here, if that gets y’there.”

He laughed, pointing at you with the oil-hot rubber tip of the spatula. You two had been dating for over a year at that point, yet any suggestions of moving in together remained vague, cloudish ideas in both of your heads. For him it was impractical; for you it was a little scary.

But a toothbrush, which he always had at your flat and you at his, wasn’t moving in together. Neither was a drawer of clothes and knick-knacks. It was a symbol of your busy lives and the intermittent intersections far and few between.

Except they’d been becoming less intermittent and a lot more constant. He was almost always at your flat, the wide two-bedroom you’d decided was a good place to live with your income and the area. You had two parking spaces, a good rep with the board, and a coffee shop across the street—a place all your own.

A little plus was you had Carlos on some free days, like that day—that fateful day he turned back to the pan and said, with a smile: “I should move in.”

You froze. “You’re asking—you’re telling me or the garlic?” In fits of nerves, you could only blurt out bad jokes.

He laughed but it was a small exhale of breath. “I’m serious.” He turned to you, brown eyes big.

Your heart swelled with something between apprehension and absolute excitement, that finally you were going to take a step you felt like you’d been waiting to take forever. “You are?” You asked, so giddily you could hear your own smile.

The truth was, you had moved in with a boyfriend before, offered him a key and suggested the entire affair, bought fresh flowers and cooked eggs and made coffee and lived the bliss you only read about in romance novels. Months later you caught him fucking somebody else in your bedroom, and years later the memory fails to purge itself from your mind or your habits, plaguing every inner thought you have.

But this, you assure yourself, is Carlos.

“Dead seriou—uuooof!” Carlos barely got to the end of his sentence, with the way you barrelled into him, smiling into the blocky build of his chest and muttering a repetitive yes yes yes into the cotton of his tee. He held you there, pressing a kiss to your hair and promising he’d be in with his boxes as soon as time made way.

—

“Make way,” you yell into the tiny gap between your door and its frame.

“Hey, hi, hello,” your boyfriend sing-songs. “How are you?”

In the month you’d spent watching your boyfriend move into your flat, you’d also been subjected to your complete lack of personal space. Every time you entered, he’d be there talking his head off. Every time you came home at night, he’d be there. You felt suffocated. Scared, even if you couldn’t sleep at night without some part of you touching him. You’re simply a human with needs, and you needed space. You needed silence. Needed it. Absolutely needed it. You knew this because every time you opened your own door, it collided with a—

“Box.” You shove yourself through the gap and wedge the door closed, pointing an accusatory finger at the cardboard. “Another box by the door. Don’t make me burn those,” you mutter, fussing with your hair and toeing off your Blahniks. Across the foyer, Carlos is nailing something into the wall, noisy and incessant and you want to shrink into the floor.

“Sorry, sorry. Lo siento. I have so many stuff.”

“Yeah! You do. My flat’s only nay fucking big,” you respond, raising your pointer finger and thumb to exaggerate the size of your (in actuality, wide) living space. “Carlos, couldn’t you unpack some of these? Just some. It’s—you know, it’s piling up. And you know I hate mess.”

“I know, baby. I will as soon as I finish this up. I promise.”

You nod once, sighing and moving into the study to gather your laptop for work. You’re halfway into the room, eyes scanning your desk’s surface and finding your Mac laying flat atop it, unassuming next to a figurine of a wooden duck. You pause and blink. The wooden duck does not, its eyes painted wide and smooth and you definitely did not purchase this duck.

Somehow, this is the straw that breaks your back.

“What is this duck doing here?!” You yell, voice loud even from the study into the foyer. Carlos pulls off the goggles he’d been wearing to drill shit into your wall and smiles. A gift from me.

“A gif—I, I, I don’t like ducks.” You flail your arms around. “I just… hearing you talk or drill as soon as I come into my own home feels weird. For so long I’ve been alone and… and I’m supposed to hear silence and I—I’m scared that you’re going to figure out how scared I am and you’re going to leave me.”

He just stares, eyebrows knitted. You smother a hand over your face. You pause and breathe for a minute, then two.

“It’s just—I’ve only lived with someone three months, and that was ages ago, and before that it was my parents, so. I’m going to be really frank with you and I’m sorry if this sounds… but I’m gonna close the bedroom door and I don’t want you to talk to me for thirty minutes. I need space. And keep the duck first. I’m sorry. Is that selfish? Is that okay?” When he shakes his head and then nods, you deposit it into his arms and back up into your room.

His face, torn between concerned and endeared, softens into an understanding, patient smile. Okay, he mouths. I love you, you mouth back, and then you’re shutting it softly, leaning your forehead against the white wood and letting a long exhale leave your lips. You half-expected him to fight you back, to raise his voice, but it’s your own worst expectations weighing down on you all over again, born out of memories of your ex.

You stay like that for a while, and slowly with the quiet you realize—you find the duck cute.

You like the boxes because they remind you this is becoming a home. You like hearing him talk because it means you know he’s there. (The drilling will always be irritating, but he makes it better.) You don’t dislike anything he does, but you’re not totally lying either: you are scared. Scared of the commitment it’d take to make this a sure thing. The commitment you’d given before and the commitment that’d been betrayed.

But this is Carlos. This is Carlos, who’s understood every part of you, who’s given you time and patience even when you didn’t know how much you needed it. The Carlos who knows how you like your toast, who eats the yolk off your sunny-side eggs and gives you the white of his hard-boiled ones. The Carlos who said I love you first, surprising you into shock, and then took it back in embarrassment before you cut him off with a kiss. The Carlos who stays.

The air clears and you breathe easier. You open the door after five minutes. “You okay?”

He’s unpacking a box. He turns and smiles wryly, mimicking a zip motion across his lips. He shakes his head. No talking, remember?

You pout, smiling. “Sorry if I’m neurotic.”

You pad softly toward him and it’s easy, too easy for him to pick you up into his arms, wrap your legs around his waist, stay standing and hugging you. He’s quiet still, patient, warm. “I like hearing you talk. I like your boxes. I like that you’re mine and we’re here.” You inhale. “‘M just scared. And I don’t… want to be, but I am, and… it’s just me. I’m crazy.”

“Hey, Crazy. So am I. Take your time.” He hugs you tighter. “I’m not gonna leave you, even if you hated the duck.” I didn’t, you say quietly. It was cute. “I know it’s hard, baby. I know. You have to let me take care of you. You have me, okay? You have me.”

“And when you’re not here?” Fear slithers up and tries to tug at you but his arms are around you, secure and holding you there, so you don’t let it.

The thing with needs, really, is when they’re met—met in the best, most understanding way, especially…

He kisses your neck. “I’ll always be.”

…You find you no longer need them at all.

[mountttmase]

Seeing Stars

Note - thank you to the anon that inspired this yesterday 🙊 I think we all deserve a night like this with masey moo. Feedback would be very much appreciated 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 2.1K

Warnings - smut and fluff

‘I still can’t believe you know how to drive this thing’ you laughed, watching as Mason expertly drove the yacht you’d rented for a few days out into the ocean. He didn’t go too far, still able to see the twinkling lights so the town behind you but you were far enough away from everyone else to feel isolated.

‘We used to get boats all the time on trips, I thought it wouldn’t do me any harm to learn how to drive one. Comes in useful don’t you think�� he winked but you could barely hear him over how turned on you were. Just watching him drive a car was enough to get you going but a boat? It was a whole other story. ‘I’ll anchor up here yeah?’ He asked but you just nodded.

It was a spontaneous trip, you weren’t even sure if you were allowed to be out here but apparently mason had got it cleared. Promising you a night of good food, clear starry skies and lots and lots of kisses and you felt like you’d be stupid to pass up the opportunity.

You weren’t sure if it was a good idea, but he’d wanted to organise the whole evening down to a tee. Under normal circumstances you would of made sure to help him but this was his gift to you for your first anniversary and you knew he wanted to treat you so you kept out of the way and let him plan your special evening.

Once the boat was settled, he told you to wait where you were so he could set up and you listed to him tinkering about as you looked up at the clear sky. You lived looking at the stars and mason knew this, hence why he wanted to bring you out here and around ten minutes later he was coming to get you. Telling you to shut your eyes as he lead you towards the front deck before pulling you in front of him to reveal the surprise.

‘You can open your eyes now baby’ he whispered in your ear, his beard lightly tickling your face and neck and once your eyes had adjusted to the scene in front of you, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised gasp.

All your favourite snacks were dished out in little bowls, your favourite drinks in an ice bucket were off to the side and your favourite flowers sat proudly in the middle of the picnic blanket as tiny tea lights set the cozy scene. Your eyes pricking at the thoughtfulness and you melted into his body as he kissed your shoulder.

‘Don’t worry, they’re battery lights. Thought it would be better than me starting a fire unintentionally’

‘Mason, this is beautiful’ you whispered, letting him lead you over to take a seat amongst it all before pouring you a drink. ‘Cheers to us’ you giggled, clinking your glasses together as he let out a little giggle before kissing your cheek softly.

‘Cheers to us, baby. And cheers to the best year of my life. I love you, so much’

‘I love you, too’ you whispered back, eyes never leaving each others until he dipped his head to place a heavy kiss on your lips.

You had an amazing time, feeding each other every so often as you took a little trip down memory lane. Reliving all your favourite moments from your first year of your relationship until you were laughing so much you had tears in your eyes.

Somehow throughout the conversation you’d ended up on his lap, legs either side of his as you straddled his thighs as you both looked up to the sky. Mason was trying to impress you by pointing out all the different constellations he knew, and you were pretty impressed, but before long he couldn’t keep his lips or hands off you and began to press gentle kisses to your neck.

It wasn’t much longer before you couldn’t take it anymore, dipping you head so you could pull him in for those long slow kisses that made your head spin as his hands traveled under your dress to grip your bum. You subconsciously rolled your hips onto him but you were distinctly aware that the pair of you were outside so when he attempted to lift your dress up you pulled back.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ He pouted, lips swollen from the copious amounts of kissing you were doing and you couldn’t help but think he looked adorable. The blush across his cheeks sending your mind into orbit but you were aware of where you were and how inappropriate getting intimate out here would be.

‘Mase, we can’t. We’re outside’ you giggled, the feel of his lips on your neck again like heaven and when he pulled back you could detect that cheeky twinkle in his eye which meant you knew he was getting his own way.

‘Baby, look around. There’s no one here, It’s not like someone can just walk passed. We’re in the middle of the ocean love, no one can hear you scream’ he joked, thumbs gently rubbing circles on your back as he knew it eased your mind but the nervous gulp you took down let him know you still needed a little bit of convincing. ‘Do you honestly think I’d wanna do this if I wasn’t super certain we’d be fine.’

‘No’ you whispered, watching his eyes light up ever so slightly.

‘This body, it’s all for me right?’ He asked, pulling your dress up and over your head so you were left sat in his lap in just your underwear. You were nervous, not able to speak so you nodded your head to let him know you agreed and the soft look on his face melted you. ‘Well you know how selfish I am. Do you think I’d let anyone else see you like this?’

‘No’

‘I wanna take care of my girl’ he breathed, fingers gently pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders before kissing your collarbone. ‘Are you gonna let me?’

‘Yeah’ you breathed, taking in a sharp breath as he continued to kiss over your chest whilst unclasping your bra from the back. As soon as it was off he was smiling up at before before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and you felt yourself shiver from a mix of his touches and your skin behind exposed to the night time air.

‘Good choice’ he winked, your face flushing as your need for him grew but his hands on your hips were pushing you up and off of him. ‘Need you to lay down for me’ he whispered, clearing some stuff out of the way before helping you lay down on the deck. Thankfully you were on the little padded section but you would of taken him anywhere at this point. ‘I’m gonna make you see stars baby, literally and figuratively’ he told you, lips training down you body as he kissed you but you couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesiness of his words causing him to make his way back up to be eye level with you. ‘Something funny?’

‘No Mase’ you chuckled ‘But those are some pretty big words for you’

‘You watch that mouth before I put it to good use’ he winked, kissing the tip of your nose before working his way back down again. You figured he’d go straight to where you needed him but you knew what mood he was in as soon as he stopped at your chest, tongue flicking over your hardened nipple whilst he gently played with the other one and you could help but threat you fingers through his hair in attempts to keep him in place.

He was off again soon though, kissing his way to your other boob to give it the same treatment before travelling south. You wear aching for him at this point so you helped him as much as you could to take your underwear off before he got settled between your thighs.

You could feel his lips everywhere, kissing all over your thighs and just around where you needed him and you knew what mood he was in. He wanted to savour you and tease you into oblivion but you were ready for him so you lifted your hips in hopes he’d get the message but the chuckle against your thigh made you huff.

‘Easy baby, I’m getting there’ he told you, hands pushing your hips back down to the deck and just as your were about to tell him off he stole the words out of your mouth by licking a stripe up the centre of you.

The moan that left your lips was unholy, stopping yourself from being too loud but then remembering no one could hear you so you let him know how good he was making you feel. Grinding yourself down onto his mouth so you could get more from him and you could tell he was enjoying it just as much from the tight grip on your hips.

‘God, Mase. You’re so good at that’ you told him, fingers gripping his locks as you held him to you like you were in some sort of trance and you could tell he was feeding off your praise so he could get you to your high as quickly as he could and soon enough it was hitting you like a truck.

You were still coming down from your high as you watched him strip down to nothing between your hazy eyes. He tongue had made you feel weak but he sight of him now was waking you back up again. You let him gently push apart your thighs even further before get got settled, fingers threading through yours so he could give them a quick squeeze but the gentle smile on his lips made your heart thump.

‘You ready?’ He breathed, his tip pressing against your entrance and as soon as you nodded he was pushing his hips forward, eager to feel you around him and you whimpered as he finally bottomed out.

His forehead came to rest on yours, lips just touching as you breathed into each others mouth before your heavy breathing turned into moans that he captured with his lips.

He was being slow on purpose, not sure it’d it was the boat wouldn’t rock too much or if he was dragging it out to make it feel better but this wasn’t just sex. He was making love to you and you felt your body burst into flames at the intensity of it all

‘I can’t get enough of you. Never have been able to’ he whispered against your lips and the shiver that ran down your spine made you arch your back and expose you neck to him. He didn’t waste time latching onto it and sucking on your sweet spot lightly.

You were quite certain you’d never felt this good before. The setting, the stars in the sky and the man of your dreams slowly rocking himself into you were driving you insane and the sinful sounds you were making together made you want to roll your hips into him even faster.

‘Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere’ he laughed, squeezing your fingers that where still threaded through his before kissing you deeply. ‘Roll over for me yeah?’

You did as he said as quickly as you could, eager to feel him again as he quickly got back into position and the slight weight of his body laying on top of yours just turned you on even further. You could feel your high building, arching your back again so he could hit the right spot inside of you and you felt your vision blur slightly as his teeth sunk into your shoulder, a whimper pouring from his throat as he tried to hold back but you were ready to go. Trembling as you came for the second time of the night and you knew he did the same straight after from the way his hips sped up before he slumped over you.

‘Happy anniversary, my love’ he chuckled, rolling off of you so he could pull your body flush against his and you giggled into his neck as you held each other as close as you could.

‘Happy anniversary, Mase’

Thank you so much for reading 😌 I'd really like some feedback so please feel free to drop me an ask or whatever you feel comfortable doing, I'd really love to hear from you 🩷

[legitalicat]

Too Sweet - Modern!Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

AN: Hello my beautiful people! I hope you enjoy this story. It started as a little love note to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier because I feel it's very Aegon coded. It then became kind of an amalgamation of a few different stories. My own story and journey with alcoholism and recovery played a big part in this, and as I wrote it parts of my feelings about my older brother, who is in active addiction, came into play. Please know that this is not everyone's story. Recovery from addiction looks different for most everyone. I truly overcame my addiction through building community and connections. I know many people who have to work a program to succeed. I know a person who actually did get a degree after a near lifetime of addiction and now he does a lot of things to help our local community in treating addiction. So really, this is a love letter to people like me and my brother. There is hope and I believe in every one of you.

Link to the TED Talk mentioned.

TW: blatant talks of alcoholism and substance abuse, talks of rehab, family issues, abusive family subtext yet never explicitly stated, gonna say it's kinda angsty, FLUFF

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

Word count: almost 3k

The soft pads of her feet made barely any noise as she walked into his bedroom, carrying a mug in each hand and wearing nothing but his MCR tee-shirt. Technically, they should both be in a deep sleep by now. It was fast approaching four in the morning and neither of them had bothered to close their eyes once. It was all he could to not hold her close in bed and stare at her captivating beauty.

When Aegon first saw her, weeks ago, he was stunned. It was the first time he had gone to the new bar right down the road from his apartment and it just so happened it was karaoke night. He had been tempted to turn around when he heard a horrendous rendition of his favorite Hozier song. But then she took the mic from her drunken friend, and it was as if the heavens parted and the gods showed him the future Mrs. Aegon Targaryen.

“Your coffee, sir,” she said to him as she handed him a mug. “No worries, it’s as black as your soul,” she added with a teasing grin.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he said as he took the mug from her.

She was truly a lesson in divinity for him. Aegon didn’t truly believe she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet. There would be people who would think she was average looks, maybe even less than that, but he didn’t need her to be more beautiful than anyone else. He wanted her exactly as she was. Beautiful like a spring day, teeming with beauty in the most natural of ways. Like one would think of a cherry blossom tree, or their favorite flower. Simple and breathtaking, a reminder of life and truth on a fundamental level.

He knew it the moment they locked eyes in that bar. Her voice shook from nerves as she sang in front of the crowd of strangers. When she looked at him, and he at her, he felt joyful for the first time in years. All of the stupid shit with his family, the years of drowning his sorrows in whiskey and wine and any other drug, none of it mattered.

If he were honest, he couldn’t remember how he got so lucky. He knew he approached her once she was done singing and complimented her. By the end of the night she was nestled beside him in bed, and he’d be damned if he ever let her leave.

“Gods, you’re amazing,” he muttered as he watched her. He knew she was drinking hot chocolate, finding the taste of coffee much too bitter.

“What was that?” she asked him when she pulled the mug away from her face. She had a bit of whipped cream on her upper lip, making his heart feel like it was on the brim of exploding.

He leaned forward, just barely, and lifted his hand to wipe the cream away with his thumb. She gave him a cute little smile when it brushed against her lips, puckering them to press a kiss to his skin. When he pulled his hand away and sucked the cream off, he heard her giggle.

“This is why you’re so sweet. Where most people drink whiskey and coffee, you put sugar in your sugar and drink it until the sun comes up,” he told her. Of course, he was teasing her.

“Because unlike you, Mr. Listen to Sad Music Even When I’m Happy, I like to enjoy things. The good things. The sweet things, like whipped cream and hot chocolate and fruit loops in bed on Saturday mornings. I just think I live a better life than you,” she told him. She was grinning from ear to ear.

If Aegon wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would tell her how he loved her. He loved that she wanted to eat sweets at all times. He loved that she teased him for listening to My Chemical Romance or Asking Alexandria, calling it all sad music, even when she would listen right alongside him. He loved that she would start crying at the Wonka movie near the end, unashamed about feeling overwhelmed by the backstory.

If he weren’t so afraid she didn’t love him, he would tell her. He knew it had only been a few weeks, that all logic points to love at first sight being nothing more than him just getting turned on by her appearance. But how could he not love her when she sat in bed with him like this after making him a cup of coffee before the sun had even risen? How could one resist the gentleness of her touch when they watched TV together and she insisted on holding his hand? How could he be expected to watch her hyper fixate on a book or a video game, talking about it for hours on end with so much passion she always ended up wound up and breathless?

“You’re too sweet for me,” he told her as he laid back against the head board. He gently pulled her into his side, wanting to have her as close as humanly possible.

His words were met with an amused chuckle. She didn’t fight his hold on her, instead melting into him as though it was where she had always been.

“Tell me about your family,” she said quietly. “I mean, I’ve not been further than ten feet from you for weeks and you haven’t said the first word about them.”

He could feel his jaw clench as she asked him. His family was a complicated and sensitive subject. Even though he wished he never had to speak to her about them, he knew he had to if he had any hopes of them becoming more than just a passion fueled fling.

“Not much to really say. Dad ran Draconic Industries. My older sister, Rhaenyra, is my dad’s daughter with his first wife. He made her next in line to take over the business. Me, my younger siblings, even my mom, we never really mattered much to dear old dad. He died when I was nineteen. I don’t really matter much to any of the rest of them,” he told her, tracing shapes on her bare thigh as he spoke.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said quickly.

“It is,” he told her without any uncertainty. “Helaena, my younger sister, hasn’t spoken to me in a few years either. I haven’t spoke to my youngest brother Daeron since we were kids. And my brother Aemond…he was the last to hold out hope for me and I burned that to the ground a long time ago. I think it’s been at least a year. My mom completely disowned me about four years ago, when I was around twenty-two, cause I refused to go to rehab again.”

She frowned softly but said nothing. He could only imagine what was going through her head at this point. If roles were reversed, he would probably be planning his exit strategy. All it felt like he told her was a sob story about a poor rich kid who can’t live off mommy and daddy anymore. He felt pathetic.

“What did you go to rehab for?” she asked him.

“Started partying when I was like twelve. Alcoholic by age fourteen. Lead to worse shit, as it does, and I overdosed when I was eighteen on some coke. My mom and grandfather checked me into rehab the following week. Have done two more stints since. Never really stuck, and I haven’t been sober for more than a few days since I was like fifteen.”

He was laying in all our there for her. He wanted her to know so she could decide if she thought he was worth the trouble. He couldn’t blame her if she ran away from him. Why would she stick around? All of his family had washed their hands of him and they were family. She was just someone he met in a bar a few weeks before.

She stayed quiet for a long time. Longer than he would’ve liked. The silence weighed on his heart like an elephant pressing against his chest. He wanted to beg her to say something, anything, just so he knew where her head was at.

Though, he noticed, she didn’t move away from him. She stayed right there, comfortable tucked into his side, occasionally sipping her hot chocolate. His own mug, still filled with coffee, had gone near forgotten in his hand. He was too focused on her.

“You know, the opposite of addiction is connection. Watched a TED Talk one time about it. They found when addicts are treated like people instead of criminals, integrating them into society instead of isolating them, they show less of a struggle with addictions. Allow their basic needs to be met, give them a community, and they thrive,” she said softly after several moments.

She sat up, her warmth leaving him. He felt lonely without her touching him even though she was still well within arm’s reach. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

“I’m not saying I can fix you. I’m not saying the cure to all your problems is me giving my heart to you. I am, however, telling you that I haven’t once seen you drunk or high or anything and we basically haven’t been apart in weeks. If you want to develop healthy connections, create a community, be a person, I am more than willing to be part of it,” she said.

His heart started beating rapidly against his chest. He knew she was right. Since being with her, he hadn’t really felt the need for anything. He had physical cravings, sure, but no mental desire. Aegon didn’t want a moment with her to be a hazy memory that he may be able to recall when he's older.

“Why?” he asked her.

“Because I love you,” she said.

The weeks and months following that night, Aegon really put in the work. Y/N had made it clear to him that she was not going to just give him everything. If he wanted this, it was on him. She was only helping him.

Together, they had found a group therapy program for him. It was ran by a man who had gotten his psychology degree a few years before, but had struggled with addiction for most of his life. That was the first step, a step Aegon felt proud he had taken once he realized he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

The next step, he decided on by himself. The group program was all well and good, but he felt a need to find a deeper explanation into himself. Once a week he found himself sitting in a therapist’s office, talking about everything and nothing all at once. They spoke about his family, his self imposed isolation from them and how that lead to them cutting off, his hopes and dreams for the future.

Through this, he found out about opportunities for volunteer work in the community. He realized he quite liked working at the local secondhand store that helped people in need. He even brought her with him on the Saturdays he worked a shift, turning it into something they enjoyed together.

Even at work, he began reaching out more. If the opposite of addiction was connection, then by the gods he was going to make connections. His coworkers were enough to give him a good laugh. All of them were extremely proud of the progress he made, always encouraging him. He found that little bit alone made it easier for him to be more himself. In the conversations he was able to have with his coworkers, he talked about shows, movies, and music he liked and became friends with a few of them.

It was with this progress, along with the support Y/N provided, that Aegon found himself at the door of his family’s estate. He hadn’t been here in years. He knew all of his younger siblings still lived here. Helaena’s bright yellow VW Beetle sat parked in the driveway, Aemond’s motorcycle probably laid in parts in the garage, and Daeron had always been more content taking a town car than actually driving himself anywhere.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Y/N told him as she held his hand tightly. He had asked her to come with him so she could at least meet them. They needed to see how he had changed.

“I do have to. If for no other reason than to show them I’m not who they remember me to be,” he told her.

“Did you talk to Dr. Wilson about this? I mean, I just, I don’t want you to,” she said, trying desperately to find the right words. He silenced her with a kiss to her forehead.

“And I love you for it,” he said to her, holding her hand as tightly as she held his. “I’m okay with whatever happens in there.”

He knocked hard on the door. It wasn’t long before his mother answered. The ever looming presence of Alicent Hightower, never Targaryen, filled the entire space of the door frame. Her auburn curls were tied neatly back into a bun, her brown eyes widened in surprise.

The woman before him, despite being in her forties, showed no true signs of aging. There were no gray hairs scattered around her head, no fine lines or wrinkles. The only indication of a less than flawless appearance were the almost invisible lines that came from the outer corners of her eyes, put there by the fact that just like Aegon, her eyes would always squint up whenever she smiled.

“Aegon,” she said quietly. She looked at him like she saw a ghost.

“Hi, mom. Can we come in?” he asked her, biting his lip. Y/N gave his hand a small squeeze as if to remind him she was with him. He had her support every step of the way.

Alicent nodded silently and stepped to the side, allowing them entrance. The house was the same as the last time he was here. All of the old family photos hung on the walls of the hallway to the living room. The air smelled of cedar wood and spiced apples, giving it the perpetual scent of fall. It was warm and inviting, the plush couch so comfortable beneath him it was almost indicative of how much money his mother spent on it.

In a lot of ways, the house felt like his family. It was the epitome of warmth and love on first glance. When you looked closer, you could see how some of the picture frames were void of glass, having been broken in one family argument or another. There was a coat the hung on the same rack, day in and day out, hiding the hole where his head went through the wall in a drunken stupor. The paint on the walls were beginning to chip away, revealing the yellowing walls that proved how much his dad had liked to smoke. It was haunted, irreversibly scarred by the past.

A maid came around and asked the three of them if they wanted a drink. Alicent requested a glass of wine. Aegon noticed how surprised she looked when he just asked for a soda, like Y/N was having. He also noticed how she kept looking at his hand that held Y/N’s.

“And who is this?” She asked, nodding her head to Y/N.

“This is the woman I’m going to marry, Y/N,” he said confidently.

They hadn’t spoken about it, there wasn’t a ring on her finger. But he had no doubt in his mind that he would marry her. He was certain that she was who he was made for. The gods had her in mind when they designed him, knowing how much he would love her. She truly was his soulmate.

“And so you came to show her how terrible we all are?” she asked him, eyebrow raised. “Or did you come for money? Because you’re not getting a dime.”

“Neither,” he said firmly. “I just wanted you to see me, mom. I wanted to see you.”

She was surprised at his words. The last time he had spoken to her, he had been begging for money. Crying, begging. When she refused, trying to help him in the best way she knew how, he screamed at her about all of her faults. The last words he spoke to her was how he could only hope that he had the courage to kill himself before he turned into her.

“I’m sorry for…for everything,” he told her. “It wasn’t fair of me to blame everything on you.” Y/N squeezed his hand again. He looked down at their hands and he knew he was okay. He would be okay. “I’m like, eight months sober from everything. Not a drop of booze, no drugs. I have a full time job, I volunteer on the weekends at a secondhand store. I’m doing good, mom.”

Tears flooded to her eyes as she looked at him. Her oldest son, the first person she ever truly loved in a selfless manner. She had thought he was completely lost to her. The vicious creature he had been when they last saw each other had melted away entirely.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asked him. He could only wordlessly nod, allowing her the time to stand from her chair and walk over to him. She hugged him tighter than she ever had.

He looked over Alicent’s shoulder at Y/N. The woman he loved was watching him with tears of her own, a smile on his face. She was good, too good, for him. She had opened his eyes to a reality he had been scared to face. But she had never once made him face it alone.

And that made all the difference.

[tiethenott]

Do nott want to see me?

theodore nott x obsessed!reader

"Goodmorning Madam Pomfery!-may I visit Theodore?Theodore Nott?" you offer her a gently smile as you hand her a flower from the bouqet youre holding.She smiles and accepts it,putting it on her desk "Thank you dear.youre always such a sweetheart!" the normally cold woman compliments you,not able to keep her monotone facade around Hogwarts' sweetheart who wouldn't hurt a fly!

"And Mr.Nott is down the hall,in room B34 in the private wards" she explains handing you a key You skip along the halls leading to his room.Standing outside,you readjust one of your braids and smoothen out your uniform before opening it to him rubbing his eyes,seemingly just woken up. You giggle at his disheveled state before going over to his bedside and resting the bouquet down,readjusting the flowers as you place the freshly baked muffins and pastries cutely placed in a basket next to it "What are you doing here,Y/N." his features mar into disgust at the sight of his admirer. "To check up on you,silly" you sit on the bed,patting his leg He pulls it away before groaning in pain as to which you offer a slight pout and readjust his leg to the previous position. "What's wrong teddybear?do you need something?" he rolls his eyes at your nickname. "What I need is for you to get out and let me rest.And stop calling me that god awful nickname." he rests his head back on the pillow "Teddy don't be ridiculous,you got a pretty nasty hit by a bulger and I want to do anything I can to help!" Recently,during practice,which you begged him not to attend to spend time with you he was targeted hit by Adrian Pucey,a slytherin he didn't really talk with had hit him in the ribs by with a bulger which was allegedly aimed at him.He was rushed to the infirmary by his teamates who weren't there to see you slip 200 galleons into Pucey's hand before walking to the infirmary "You can help by leaving and taking back those hideous flowers."

Your eyes darken as a hideous look of disgust takes over your sweet smile "Im being nice,Theodore.Dont make me regret it." You take a deep breath,your face calmer but the anger still palpable.You begin to pick up the thrown pieces of clothing off the floor,tidying his room. "I want you to leave me alone,Y/N." the pretty boy begs,trying not to yell as you offer a fake pout walking over to him You sweetly kiss his cheek before leaning in so your cool breath is felt trickling down his ear.The sweet demeanor drops as you press your fingers into the nasty bruise at the side of his ribs,causing him to yell but its quickly concealed by your manicured fingers on his mouth. "I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth,you hear me?" the words bitterly fall from your mouth. You carefully sit yourself on his hips,right above his crotch as you innocently leer at the boy,massaging the wound with the same hand that caused the pain "Get off me,Y/N" he demands as you take off the white tee from his upper body,revealing his toned chest that you immediately run your hands over.Seconds later,you pull back the covers from the lower half of his body as you slowly take off his boxers,revealing his lengthly cock with a bright pink,angry tip you shift down and stroke one hand up and down his length before swirling your tounge around the tip then peppering small kisses all around,causing him to stifle his moans.Your head bobs up and down as you take most of his length in your mouth,your hands working on the rest as his hand grips your hair,tugging at it harshly.Shortly after,his hot cum arrives in your mouth,causing you to swallow all of it. You pull away and sit back up,wiping your mouth before dressing him back up,admiring his sweaty and blissful face.You lean in,giving him a small peck on the lips to which he wipes off "Fuck you,Y/N." he scolds as you kiss the top of his nose "Dont worry teddy,we will" you giggle,placing another kiss to his cheek and gather your bag "Bye Teddybear!see you soon!" you charmingly yell skipping down the hall

THE NEXT DAY,Theodore awaits for Madam Pomfery to bring him his medication.The door opens and stands you,with a tray of medication and food,dressed in white robes and a 'caretaker' badge necklaced around your neck causing him to furrow his eyebrows into confusion as to why youre here. "I got the job theo!Madam Pomfery allowed me to help her and now im your caretaker!isnt it wonderful?" you ramble He couldn't wait to recover.

[the-californicationist]

Hey, I'm not sure if youve done something like this yet, but could you please do a fic where Reader just wants to feel closer to Simon and honestly is just being really clingy and kind of gently begs him if they can just sit on his cock and then they doze off like that bc theyre finally as close to his as they want to be? Lots and lots of love and thanks!

"The Space Between" (AO3 Link)

You watched him carefully from your spot across the wide den. He was playing some racing game, the same track over and over, trying to beat an old ghost of his. But, you could tell he was growing tired. Every lap, he lost a few seconds here and there, or he'd needed to restart. You tried to give him space. He'd been in one of his moods.

Simon never pushed you away, but he did wrap himself in a protective layer of quiet. He would say less, he would answer in wordless grunts or looks, and he would sleep more, turning inward on himself like a flower in the night, closing up in the face of the darkness.

But, you needed him. Badly. You wanted his warm mouth and his skin to cover you again. You wanted him to grab you like a lifeboat in a storm, out of need.

You rose, letting your blanket fall behind you, stalking over to him in his huge tee shirt and nothing else, your hair messy from your shower.

"Si?" You whispered as if you were giving the secret password to an underground club, a secret organization, a code you weren't supposed to have.

It worked. It opened the arms of your man. He paused the game and spread himself wide for you, like a big, sleeping dog, belly up. You mounted his hips and leaned into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around the heavy muscles there, and you felt him relax his body into yours, melting into you like thawing ice.

"Let me keep you warm," you begged quietly into his neck, soft enough that he could barely hear you. The music from the game's menu beat softly in the background.

He knew what you wanted. You'd gotten into the habit lately. It had happened wordlessly the first few times, you sinking yourself down onto his hard length, wrapping him in your wet, warm body, coaxing him to swell with your fluttering core.

Now, you'd been asking for it, and he obliged you. You felt him digging into his sweatpants for your prize, ready and willing to be comforted by you. The head of him prodded gently at your hole, spread wide as you straddled him, fully vulnerable to him, ready to let him have you however he wanted.

You felt it slot into place, thick and solid, and you began the slow, long descent. Each inch of him stretched you more and more, filling you up, completing you like your missing piece.

You heard him sigh, and you felt the breath against your neck. It washed over you like a reward, telling you exactly how much he needed you, how much he wanted you to need him. Once he was fully sheathed in you, he ran his cheek over your cheek, smelling your clean scent, his dark voice coating you like smoke in a burning house,

"Mm, tha's what you wanted, innit, pretty thing?"

"Yeah, Si. That's what I wanted. Can I stay here, just for a little while?"

He shifted his hips and pulled you in closer, locking you in to his body and pressing himself even deeper than you had felt him in a long while. With his hands wandering under your shirt, he felt the smooth, warm skin of your back, petting you gently, soothing you to sleep.

As you were on the edge of sinking into slumber, he sighed again and said,

"As long as you need, love."