#but it’ll be so fucking uncomfortable if i do it any other way

[bunniepaws]

love my nonconfrontational dad so i can never actually sit down and share anything with him so i end up coming out to him by yelling it at him as i leave his car.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon, poverty & debt, gun violence, organized crime, death threats, arranged marriage

fem reader

Thinking about owing the mob…

Not you specifically, but your family – debt you weren’t aware of before you’re being cashed in to settle it.

You imagined several terrible things before the arrangement was explained to you. 

One of the sons needs a wife with a clean reputation. 

It’s a simple equation. You’re eligible, and he isn’t picky.

And though it leaves you in mourning for a life yet lived, it still comes with a sense of relief. It’s one of the better deals you could’ve gotten. At least you wouldn’t need to witness or partake in any crimes, nor act as a scapegoat for the likes either.

Besides… though you’ve yet to meet your fiancé, you’ve been explained that he only plans on treating you like a wife on and for the camera – that his tastes otherwise lie in the gentlemen’s lounge. 

All you ever have to do is smile. He isn’t interested in anything else.

That’s what you were told, and yet…

“It’s funny.” Your husband says after the wedding ceremony. 

You’re back at the mansion you’re meant to call home. The grounds are about twice the size of the block you come from. Marble, gold, and diamonds – it’s so outrageously excessive it’s shameless. 

“I was told your brothers run routes for us to make ends meet.” He continues, looking at you and the expression on your face as you stare up at the chandelier – it’s clear you’ve never seen anything like it. “Fuck, I mean, I can’t imagine risking my life and still end up needing to pick between food or rent at the end of the day.”

Your gaze falls down to him at that. 

Clad in lush wedding expense – white gown and silver tiara – you still stick out like a sore thumb. Something in the way it wears you and not the other way around. It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable with it all. It’s probably worth more than your family's ever owned.

He steps closer with a chuckle.

“Then, the poor suckers go and fuck up so bad they end up needing to sell their own sister.”

He spots your fists ball at your sides. But you keep your cool. Only a slight grimace curling your lips along a tiny furrow between your brows. It all smoothens into something else when he reaches out to grab your chin.

“What’s even more funny…” He tilts your face in his hand – jaded eyes assessing you like he’s found a coin on the ground. “You don’t look like street trash like I expected.”

Your frown returns, and you try pulling back – but he grabs your arm before you can.

Tsking, “Ah-ah – Remember,” His smile sharpens. “You’re property now. When I touch you, you let it happen.”

You weren’t that easily convinced. He bet you’ve had to fight off a lot of unwanted attention back where you come from. But he isn’t some back-alley thug. When he wants something, he expects it not only to be served on a silver platter but to be hand-fed to him with a silver spoon.

He pulls the gun out from behind him. Slotted in the band of his dress trousers, it had stayed hidden beneath the coverage of his suit jacket during the ceremony.

Your throat dries up, and any protests you had died of thirst along with it – eyes wide as you stare at the piece.

You can’t believe he’d carry that thing into a church with vows upon his lips – now pointing it at the very same wife he’d made those vows to. 

“Make me spend a single bullet, and your family will share the rest.” He taps the barrel’s mouth against the quiver of your lips. “I’d rather not it come to that. It’ll ruin the carpet…”  

You quiver, feeling weak with a shudder – your eyes slip closed with a shivering tear.

“Not to mention this…” He strokes the pitiful droplet off your cheek with the weapon while eyeing the way you quake with grinning eyes. “Pretty little body I’ve only just acquired.” 

BNHA – Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

BLLK – Reo

HxH – Illumi

[sutorus]

Hello! Can you do jjk men reaction when y/n said their safe word during sex? Only if you're not busy! Thank you! 😘

JJK MEN’S REACTIONS TO YOU USING YOUR SAFE WORD

FEATURED: gojo, geto, toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. fem reader, afab terms, use of safe word, descriptions of anxiety. please mind individual tws for each scene. proceed with caution and don’t read if it’ll make you feel bad! take care bbs

A/N: my first request i hate it but i hope you love it anon!!! 😊 also sorry i couldn’t do nanami or choso if i’m inspired another time i’ll add em to this LMAO

GOJO SATORU

warnings: reader is blindfolded and bound (wrists), use of safe word, unprotected sex, crying, descriptions of anxiety

you’ve done it a ton but it still makes you nervous. 

one sense is kind of a lot to lose when you only have five of them, as a non sorcerer. but the relinquishing of control, entrusting your safety and pleasure and entire body to someone else… it turns you on beyond belief. 

so here you are, tonight, blindfold tight over your eyes and hands bound behind your back as satoru fucks you, pace languid, fingers running all over your body. 

any other day, it would be just what you needed to relax. any other day you’d be squirming in pleasure, hips bucking wildly against him as your nails claw at your own palms. 

but today, for whatever reason, it’s uncomfortable. maybe you’ve had too much caffeine, maybe it’s the stress of his most recent mission, the first one to ever have you worrying your lip all night long thinking, maybe he’s not coming back this time. 

his wandering hands feel foreign, the pleasured moans coming from his mouth sounding distant and wrong. your arms tingle from the position you’re in, your sweaty skin itches and you can’t reach to scratch at it. 

you furrow your brows. 

“satoru…” you whine softly, still unsure of what to ask for. 

“mmm?,” he grips your waist, his strokes deep and precise. “my pretty baby looks so good like this. so mine.”

you whine, wriggling in search for comfort. satoru must mistake that for pleasure because he fucks you just a little bit harder, puffing out hot breaths into the crook of your neck. 

“kiss me,” you ask, hoping it’ll make it better, but it does nothing to calm you down. with no stimuli but touch, your brain starts to go into overdrive, and you feel tears begin to trickle down your face.

satoru notices, but not in the right way. 

“is it that good?” he teases, like he always does, but today it sends a chill down your spine. “i could do anything i wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t even know. wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

that does it for you, a wrecked sob leaving your lips along with your safe word. 

satoru stills immediately. you can feel him softening inside you and for some reason that only makes you cry harder. 

gently, he reaches behind your head to unhook the blindfold, his worried gaze searching your face for answers. 

he lifts your back and unties your wrists, rubbing them to soothe the friction from the ropes. 

“baby…” his tone is careful and guilty. “sweetheart, is everything okay? did i do something, what did i do?”

you sniff. the first words that come out of your mouth are, “i’m sorry.”

you’ve never had him so doting, so tense, all that confidence vanishing and it makes you chuckle, this big lanky man handling every limb of yours like they’re made out of snowflakes. 

“satoru, i’m okay. i just…” you inhale deeply. “i just got overwhelmed, is all.”

he lays down beside you, visibly unsure about touching you. you grip his hand firmly in yours, offering him a wavering smile. 

“i’m okay, i promise. you’re good,” you lean over to peck his lips.

satoru looks regretful, but he relaxes at the gesture, caressing the side of your face softly. 

“i love you so much. i’m sorry if i, like, went too far or something—“

“you did nothing wrong,” you assure him. “i think i’m just having a bad day. just wanted to see your face to feel better.”

at that, he smirks. he kisses you slowly, adoringly, unspoken apologies every time your lips touch. 

“i am sorry, by the way,” you say. satoru looks back at you with a confused expression on his face. you continue sheepishly, “for having to use the word.”

“huh?” he exclaims, his incredulity so earnest that it rips a hearty laugh from you. “nah, hell no. thank you for saying it, actually.”

“yeah? you’re not upset?”

“of course not. i completely understand,” he traces a line down your body. “not being able to see my handsome face would make anyone cry.”

you slap his hand away playfully and he pulls you into his chest, cuddling you.

you stay like that until you fall asleep, reassured that the most powerful sorcerer in the world is indeed fit to take care of you; heart, body and soul. 

GETO SUGURU

warnings: overstim, degradation/humiliation and dirty talk, use of safe word, reader’s discomfort is brief but descriptive

you don’t know how long it’s been. 

maybe ten minutes. maybe twenty. maybe ninety. 

you don’t know how many times you came. 

your entire body is covered in sweat, the top of your thighs and the bottom of your ass soaked in your own arousal. 

suguru holds the wand to your clit almost disinterestedly, eyes glazed over and locked on your cunt. 

he fucking loves it, making you cum over and over again, thrash against his body, make a mess on his sheets. and you love it just the same. 

the undivided attention, the devotion, the seconds right after when the stimulation doesn’t stop and it hurts so bad before it gets mind-numbingly good again. 

“hahh,” you breathe out, voice cracking. “i—i’m gonna—“

“oh, you’re gonna?” suguru mocks you. “shocking.”

you moan at his words, his tone. by now, your body barely has any energy left to react. all you can feel is the release of an unbelievable pressure in your core as wetness gushes out of you uncontrollably when you cum. 

your puffy clit is throbbing, thoroughly abused, your spread legs quivering in pleasure. you sigh in anticipatory relief at the incoming break suguru is bound to give you after your orgasm. 

except this time, the break doesn’t come. 

“ahh!” you scream — honest to god yell — as the buzzing continues, suguru pressing the wand down hard on your pussy. 

he chuckles, playing with the toy, lifting it up just slightly before bringing it back down on you, over and over again. 

“can’t—i can’t, suguru, i can’t cum right now—“

“of course you can, baby,” he says in a sickeningly sweet voice, getting off on your desperation. 

usually you’re just as much into it as he is, but this time it’s for real. it’s painful and not in the nice way, you’ve hit your limit but you can hardly talk, can’t do much more than try to wiggle away from your boyfriend’s ministrations. 

“how can you say that when you have such a slutty pussy?” he runs his fingers through your slick folds, and every clench of your cunt makes it hurt even more. “so greedy…”

you’re clawing at his hands, but he’s so much stronger than you, his forearms and thighs holding you down, leaving you entirely to his mercy — of which he has none. 

“please please fuck please no more—“

it’s something he’s heard you say a thousand times, in a thousand different scenarios, and never truly mean it, which is why you even have a safe word in the first place. 

oh right. the safe word. 

you pull it out from the depths of your fucked out, mushed up brain and blurt it, digging your heels into the mattress. 

it all happens so fast, after that.

suguru all but tosses the wand to the side, switching to lightly stroking your pussy. it makes you jolt; even a gush of air right now could probably make you cry in overstimulation. 

“oh fuck, shit,” he removes his hand and you whine. “what do you need baby, what can i do?”

“s-suguru…” you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs spasming erratically. 

“i’m here, i’m here,” suguru starts to move towards you but stops halfway. “do you want me to be here?”

you let out a croaky laugh, opening your arms because you’re too far gone to use words. 

hesitantly, he lays his head on your chest. when he feels how fast your heart is beating, his own sinks to his stomach. 

“i’m so sorry honey. i thought you were into it.”

you swallow, taking a few beats to regain your composure. 

“i was, it was just… a lot, all of a sudden.” 

suguru turns his head to look up at you. 

“i get it,” he wipes away a stray tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed. “i’m sorry. i love you, i'm so sorry—”

“it’s okay,” you offer him a weak smile. “it’s what the word is for, right?”

“right…” he sounds unsure. that makes you frown. 

you two lay there for a while, until your breathing has evened out, until your thighs have stopped shaking. 

you can practically hear the hear the cogs in his brain turning, certain that his brain chastising himself.

“hey, suguru?” your voice rips him right out of his thoughts.

“hmm?”

“can you promise me something?”

he sits up in attention, instinctively reaching for your hand. “of course.”

“promise me you’re never gonna stop fucking me like that," he gulps, audibly, visibly relaxing. "and i promise to always let you know if i need to stop.”

it takes a beat, but suguru finally loosens up, pressing his smile into your lips over and over again and mumbling all sorts of promises of his own against them.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

warnings: knifeplay, cnc (sort of), roleplaying, pretty graphic descriptions of anxiety and panic, oral (m! receiving)

“what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ here this late at night?”

you roll your eyes to yourself before putting on your best innocent look to turn around and face the man. 

he’s smirking down at you, the streetlight lamps casting dark shadows on his features. 

if you were being honest with yourself, you’d never really been interested in roleplaying in your previous relationships. it was always so awkward and you never truly felt any incentive to stick to the script no matter how much the scenario excited you. 

until you met toji, that is. 

he was always so into it, played his parts convincingly well, which should probably worry you considering he would always opt to play the sleazy delivery guy, the pervy doctor, the horny stranger in a bar. 

as for you, acting the part of the ditzy student or the clumsy maid or whatever the fuck toji wanted you to be that particular day… yeah, that was embarrassingly hot too. 

tonight, he’s playing creepy guy in a dark alleyway. he’d texted you in advance, a very romantic meet me in that alley between the tracks and the highway. dress slutty. 

“i was just looking for the station and got lost…” you mumble, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he pouts in a fake display of pity, twirling something inside his jacket pocket. 

“oh, what a coincidence! i was just on my way there. care to accompany me?”

you smile sweetly, linking arms with him. 

soon enough, you find yourself being shoved past toji’s apartment door, his pocketknife prodding at the small of your back. 

you have to contain your giggles to stay in character, letting him toss you onto his bed. you also have to fight your anger when he slashes through your top, a sleazy smile on his face as he breaks character to say he’ll get you a new one. 

he’s so goddamn hard that it should concern you, holding your jaw open while he feeds you his cock. 

“god—shit, that’s right, such a slutty little mouth,” you moan around his length, hands resting primly on top of your thighs. “you were just begging for it, weren’t you, slut?”

you bob your head up and down, putting on a fake grimace while squeezing your legs together at the same time. 

you hear something click in the distance, the sound barely registering in your brain as you get lost in the scent of him. he’s beginning to push into your throat now, laughing like a maniac when you choke on it. 

“c’mon now, open up that throat for me, girl,” you inhale in preparation. but your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel something cold and sharp poke you. “or maybe i’ll just to do it for ya with this.”

toji’s pressing his switchblade to your neck, grazing it delicately up and down. 

he’s not going to hurt you. you know that.

the blade is probably too dull to pierce skin even if he tried, but he would never, you know this, you know he won’t. 

and yet despite that, your heart is jackhammering in your ribcage, uncontrolled and wild as your eyes widen around tears. 

toji takes your inaction as a sign to just start fucking your mouth a little more, but your attention is zeroed in on that pocketknife. 

suddenly colors are sharper, like it’s bright as day inside his dimly lit bedroom. a headache begins to bloom and you start choking in earnest now, not because toji’s going too hard but because you can’t coordinate your breaths. 

he starts tracing your throat with the blade. “feel me right here sweetheart? fuck.”

you’re clearly struggling but it’s hard to distinguish your real reactions to the character you’re supposed to be playing. that only serves to make you panic even further, hands coming up to push on toji’s thighs. 

“hands to yourself, whore,” he grunts, pressing the knife a little too hard, a little too close for comfort, and you hit your breaking point.

you start garbling wildly around his dick, repeating your safe word over and over again until a very confused toji finally makes out what you’re saying. 

he rips himself out of your mouth, instantly dropping to his knees and grabbing your chin in his hand. 

“oh fuck, did i cut ya sweetheart?” he moves your face from side to side, examining you. 

you swallow around the lump in your throat, willing your heart to calm down. 

“uh, n-no. just got a bit too real there, for a moment.”

he sighs, partially relieved, reassessing the situation. you’re gulping in air, blowing it out of your mouth in calculated puffs. 

toji waits until you're visibly calmer before he gets up. 

“wait here,” he orders. 

you sit down on the floor, hands wrapped around your knees and mentally repeating to yourself that you’re okay, it wasn’t real, you’re not in danger. 

toji returns with a glass of water, sitting down in front of you and waiting until you’ve drank most of it. 

“you okay?” he asks. 

you take a beat before you can honestly say you are. you nod. 

“that knife on your throat was a bit too far, huh, babe?”

“yeah,” you garble out, tracing circles on his knees. “could’ve warned me of that particular detail. asshole.”

he laughs but his body language isn't nearly as carefree. 

there’s a long drag of silence before he speaks again. 

“i’m sorry, honey. really.”

and toji, as amazing as he can be, is usually way too prideful to admit guilt. so the fact that he apologizes is what finally gets you to fully relax, knowing he does realize the situation you were in and feels bad about it. 

“honestly we can stop with all the roleplaying bullshit, it’s getting kinda old anyways. you know i don't need you playing a slut to get you acting like one on my co—“

“toji,” you hiss, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “it’s fine. i think i have a better idea, anyway.”

that seems to spark his interest. he rises his eyebrows, prompting you to go on. 

“because there’s a few roleplays we haven’t tried yet. and if you genuinely feel so bad—“ he says your name sternly but just you ignore him, “then i know the perfect thing you can do to make it up to me.”

“babe…” he bemoans like a chastised child, with a hint of resignation at what awaits him. 

when he sees that you’re beaming he just takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 

“when?” is all he asks. 

impossibly, your smile grows even wider. 

“i already ordered the costume! and the cat ears should be here next week,” you kiss his forehead, propping yourself on his shoulders to stand up. 

you hear him groan in the distance as you skip to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. 

he stalks after you almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and honest to god pouting at you in the mirror. 

“are ya really going to do this to me now?”

you grin. 

“don’t you mean meow, kitty?”

a/n: yayyy my first somewhat wholesome post i am so bad at this but i hope it was readable! bye now!

[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2

Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off

Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, spanking, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!

Part 1

It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.

Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.

You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…

“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”

You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.

“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.

“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”

You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.

Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.

“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”

He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.

“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.

“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”

“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”

That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!

You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.

Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.

You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.

“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.

“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.

“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”

They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.

You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.

Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.

“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”

You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.

“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?

“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.

“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”

A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.

“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.

“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”

You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”

You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.

“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”

“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.

“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”

Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.

“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”

He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.

“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”

He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.

“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.

“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”

You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.

“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?

You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.

“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.

“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”

“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.

“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”

“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.

Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.

“I love you, Miguel”

Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.

[moonstruckme]

can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)

Thank you for requesting gorgeous!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse. 

“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?” 

“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.” 

“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?” 

Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.” 

“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?” 

Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.” 

Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.” 

“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.” 

“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.” 

“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.” 

A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.” 

“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.” 

“You were angry last night. Not me.” 

“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.” 

You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late. 

But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you. 

He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed. 

“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?” 

“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails. 

“I just want a chance to apologize.” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.” 

“Why can’t you just admit it?” 

“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.” 

There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.” 

“I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“Sure you do.” 

“Why do you want to fight so bad?” 

“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.” 

You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?” 

A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.” 

“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.” 

“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.” 

“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.” 

You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.” 

You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle. 

“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?” 

You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.” 

“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.” 

You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer. 

You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.

[bbydoll18xx]

I'll Be Your Temporary Fix (Pt 2)

Paige Bueckers x Media Team Reader

Part 2 based on this request: 

Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).

Word Count: 2.3k

You can read part 1 here

Thank you all so much for all the love on part 1! I was actually surprised how much everyone seemed to be enjoying this. That said, there will be another part (and maybe more) to this!

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

You wake up the next morning to your phone blowing up. Yawning and squinting, you look over at the myriad of notifications. Confusion overtakes you, but you quickly deduce that your stunt with Paige had finally gotten some real attention. 

You spend the morning scrolling every app, trying to hide the worry bubbling up inside of you. Most people seemed to be satisfied with your performance; others were comparing you to Azzi in a cruel way. The general consensus was that you and Paige couldn’t possibly be dating; apparently it was because you hadn’t kissed.

You typically did not give a shit what people thought of you, but the idea of being compared to someone as effortlessly charismatic as Azzi made you want to crawl into a hole and hide forever. You could spend your entire life trying to emulate her success and beauty. 

Despite your self-esteem crumbling around you, you still wanted to finish what you started. People were counting on you, and your damn people-pleasing self needed to prove a point. You decide your moping would have to wait. Grabbing your camera and iPad, you head out to the arena where you knew the girls would be practicing. 

You feel shy walking in on the basketball team. Your hands are clammy, and you wipe them on your pants before giving a small wave to a hungover-looking Paige. Her eyes are tired and ringed with a bruise-colored tinge. Usually she glowed at practice, hogging your camera and deliberately showing off. Today, though, you can see the exhaustion rolling off of her. 

For a minuscule second, you allow yourself to wonder if maybe she was up all night thinking about you, just as you thought about her. You internally scold yourself. Getting your hopes up was the last thing you needed. 

For once, you are relieved to be focusing on some of the other basketball players, trying to avoid Paige until you get your emotions in order. Your mood shifted as you observed the girls’ antics. They took turns shooting difficult shots in your honor, pointing to you when a ball landed through the net with a satisfying swish. 

Once Geno concludes the practice, a handful of the girls run up to you, wanting to hear the details of your and Paige’s night. You shrug, trying to downplay what had happened, when you feel Paige’s presence behind you. Her hand slides down your back, resting on your waist with a weight that feels so damn good. 

A look of surprise graces your face, along with multiple of Paige’s teammates. 

“Uh, is this a real thing now, or what?” Nika questions. 

“Guess we’ll have to see,” Paige smirks in response, causing your mouth to drop open ineptly. 

Ignoring the blonde’s shocking retort, Azzi clears her throat and explains that the girls were going out drinking tonight. “Please join us! It’ll be so fun, all you gotta do is kiss Paige. That’ll be enough proof for everyone, and then you can be done,” she follows quickly. The words spill out, and she rouses the rest of the team to convince you that it would be so, so fun.

You turn your head up towards Paige, searching her face for any clue that this was crossing a line. Her familiar smirk was still resting on her lips. It widens as she realizes you’re staring at them. 

Fuck. So much for attempting to be subtle.

Hiding your embarrassment, you acquiesce, swearing to yourself that you would keep your feelings under wraps.

It was decided that you and Paige would meet the rest of the team at the bar at 11:00. As Paige knocks on your dorm door, you want to do everything possible to get yourself out of this situation. The idea of kissing Paige made every nerve feel like it was on fire. You weren’t sure if you’d survive the build up of it. 

“Hi, pretty girl,” Paige says softly, looking you up and down once the door tentatively opens. 

“Hey, P,” you whisper, hoping she couldn’t hear the shakiness of your voice. Paige takes your hand, something that was beginning to feel so natural and so domestic; she leads you out the door and into her car. With one hand on the wheel and one delicately placed on your upper thigh, you chat about the roles you had to play one final time tonight. You sense a tone of hesitancy in her voice, but you ignore it in favor of attempting to suppress your own.

Paige’s car turns into the parking lot of the bar, and once it's parked, she turns to you, saying “Are you sure you’re okay with all this? Azzi can get over it if you’re not.”

“I'm sure, P. As long as you are comfortable, I am, too,” you respond sincerely. She nods, satisfied with your answer, and with deep breaths, you head inside. 

The bar was packed with throngs of drunk students enjoying the weekend. You wish you could enjoy yourself, but your anxiety was threatening to make you vomit. 

Your head is reeling with all the negative thoughts you could possibly conjure.

‘What if Paige thinks I’m a bad kisser?’

‘What if I accidentally bite her?’

‘What if Paige is dreading this?’

The hypothetical questions were going to be the actual death of you, and you attempt to quiet them with a drink.

Or five. 

The first couple of shots you take don’t hit you until 30 minutes later. The familiar feeling of intoxication is welcomed like an old friend. You really weren’t the type to go wild, but your desire to just forget took over. The third and fourth go down like water, sliding through your veins and into the heat of your core. 

You're swaying your hips sensually with the beat of the blaring music, arms loose at your sides, occasionally sloshing around the pink beverage in your cup. 

You don't even care how stupid you looked because you felt so damn free, finally unchained from the anxieties of the past few days. 

A touch on your waist breaks through your drunken haze, pulling you back to reality. 

Shit, your waist is getting a lot of attention these days. 

You turn around quickly, hair whipping theatrically, expecting to see Paige. Boy were you mistaken. 

Your glossy eyes are met with the brown eyes of a man you had never seen before. You don’t miss the pang of disappointment you feel once you realize it’s not the tall blonde you were hoping to see. 

Rolling your eyes and huffing, you turn back around, once more trying to figure out where Paige had ended up. Short, drunken boys were the least of your concerns right now. 

Seeing that Azzi was close by, you stumble towards her, slurring out “Where’d my Paigey go?” 

Her eyes light up at your use of the pet name, and she grins. “She just went to get you water, remember? You drank a shit ton.” 

Suddenly remembering the way she had whispered into your ear to stay close to the girls of the basketball team, you blush at your own forgetfulness. 

Maybe you really did need that water. 

Paige is back a minute later. Foregoing handing you the bottle, she is already unscrewing it and placing it against your lips. 

Fuck. It reminds you of the night before; the cup placed against your lips, and the way her wide, blue eyes had watched you protectively. 

You welcome the way the cool water slides down your throat, already sore from singing loudly and attempting to talk over the pumping of the music. 

You drank until Paige was satisfied, never breaking eye contact with her. She pulls the bottle away from you, wiping the excess water from your lips with her thumb and then bringing it to her own lips, sucking the liquid off. 

Your head spins at the contact. Maybe that was just the alcohol, but you doubted it. 

Tucking you into her side, Paige plays with a strand of your hair, swirling her fingers around it in a way that was almost sinful. She looks down at you as you make a guttural noise, attempting to play it off as a cough. Her long fingers continue their assault on your hair, before they dance along your shoulder to your collarbones. Goosebumps trail after her digits, eliciting a shiver to run down your spine and straight between your legs. 

She had you completely and irrevocably fucked. 

It was getting late, and you knew that with the time slipping away, your moment to kiss Paige was soon approaching. Your brain battled between wanting to get the deed over with and drawing everything out for as long as possible. You didn’t want this to end. 

You tug Paige over to sit in a tall bar stool, attempting to alleviate the pain in your feet. She helps you climb up, holding the chair steady as you perch, sighing in relief. 

Paige stands in between your spread legs, meeting your eyes with an inquisitive expression. She was feeling you out, trying to deduce your own thoughts. 

If only she knew what you were actually thinking. 

Before you can bow out under the heat of her intense stare, you lean in to her. The look she gives you, one of longing and desperation, is the only confirmation you need. 

And you kiss her as if she was air, and you had been drowning for a thousand years. 

Your lips meet in a passionate embrace. Paige’s lips were as soft as they looked; you would know. You had spent a considerable amount of time staring at them, wondering how they felt and how they tasted. 

As you find a rhythm, Paige’s tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, coaxing a lustful moan from your mouth. It goes straight to Paige’s core. You are lost in each other’s presence, the chaos around you slipping away until hoots of laughter and gasps of surprise slam you back into reality. 

You reluctantly pull away from the blonde, surveying the damage of the kiss. People had their phones out, directly pointed at the two of you.

Perfect. Azzi would be happy. 

Looking back to Paige, you see the impact of your affections; her lips swollen and cheeks flushed in a way that had you smirking proudly. 

“I think that’s our cue” Paige mumbles, her warm breath hitting the sensitive flesh of your earlobe once again. You nod quickly, trying to avoid looking over eager, but that was most likely null and void at this point. 

In a dramatic display, Paige picks you up off the tall chair and sets you back on to your feet, steadying you as you sway. You wave to the onlookers, a cheesy grin engulfing your face. Paige shakes her head fondly, winking to those still watching, and pulls you out of the bar and into the parking lot. 

She all but lifts you into the passenger seat of her car, handing you another bottle of water. She softly urges you to drink, which you do without fail. You want to cut through the remnants of your drunkenness, desperate to fixate on every part of Paige. 

You were terrified you’d forget what she tasted like and the way her lips slid against yours. 

You look over at the blonde, her face illuminated from the streetlights, and her hand once more splayed across your thigh. 

She was so beautiful. 

But was she yours? You had no fucking idea. 

Your thoughts send you reeling as you sip your water, but you take solace in the fact that your worrying meant you were sobering up. The car smoothly turns into the parking lot of Paige’s apartment, and once you are parked, she looks over at you expectantly. You meet Paige’s eyes with a confused look of your own.

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” She asks with an air of shyness you weren’t used to. 

You bite your lip in response, pretending to ponder, before choking out a response in agreement. 

Of course, you wanted to stay over. 

You followed her up to her door, feeling more steady than you were at the bar and waited as she unlocked it. Your nerves were starting to rile you up again, and your heartbeat pounded in your ears, temporarily silencing the vexatious doubts your brain was throwing at you. 

Paige wastes no time throwing off her uncomfortable clothes, replacing them with her usual sweats. Somehow, she looked even better. 

Grabbing a pair for you, she ushers you to the bathroom, pointing out everything you needed to get ready for bed. Thanking her with a small smile, you close the door and prepare. 

‘It’s just another sleepover,’ you think. ‘You’ve done this dozens of times before. You can do it again.’ The self assurance calms you, giving you enough confidence to walk back into Paige’s room and lay down on her bed next to her. 

The room was dark already, but the glow of her computer cast a gleam over the two of you. There was no hiding from her. Not anymore. 

“Have you seen what people are saying?” You ask, in a not so subtle attempt to see where her head was at. 

“Yeah, I have,” Paige responds. “I think they believe it now. Don’t really blame them. That kiss was…” She trails off, unable to sum up the words of how that kiss made her feel. 

“Intense,” you finish, sleep starting to creep into your body. 

Paige hums in agreement, and wraps her arms around you, pulling her close to you. 

You shut your eyes, the blissful warmth radiating off of Paige pulling you into the oblivion of unconsciousness. 

And once more, your dreams are filled with images of Paige’s lips and the overwhelming need to be hers. 

*You can now read Part 3 here

Thanks for reading!

[lokis-army-77]

A New Purchase

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.6k

When you come home only to discover your boyfriend has bought something completely ridiculous.

Warning: 18+. p in v, riding.

Here's the little thing we talked about the other day @munson-blurbs @lofaewrites @chrissymjstan @hellfire--cult (it isn't as good as I think it could be but oh well)

Masterlist

Eddie was almost giddy with excitement when he saw the Facebook marketplace posting. The aluminum body was a bit rusted and the inside fabric was also questionably stained but hey it was a decoration for three hundred dollars and local pickup, hell yes, he was buying it. 

The only thing Eddie didn’t realize was that it wasn’t a small decoration. No…  it was real and he had no clue where he was going to store it until Halloween. Then came the brilliant idea of testing it out. He only wanted to know what it would be like to lie there, how comfortable would it be?

That’s how you came to find Eddie lying in a casket in the middle of your living room.

Walking through the door you stop suddenly, as the small walkway between the wall and the back of the couch is blocked. Eddie is lying there, eyes closed and hands crossed over his chest. 

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?” 

He can’t help the grin that paints his once stoic features. He squints open his eyes as he begins to laugh. “I’m testing out my new purchase. Do you like it?”

You sigh and whip your hand over your face, shaking your head. “What on Earth possessed you to buy a casket? Wait, hang on, where did you buy a casket?”

He sits up, resting an arm on the side, and goes into his explanation. “You are never gonna believe it, fucking Facebook Marketplace. It was so cheap and to be honest I thought it was a fake one that would have been maybe a foot or two tall but nope. Imagine my surprise when I get to this guy's house and he rolls this baby out. He slaps the side panel for emphasis. He even threw in the church trucks for free so it would be really easy to move around.”

You just chuckle and shake your head. “Okay, then why did you buy it?”

“I figured we could use it to decorate for Halloween and also because when I saw it was actually real I just had to test it out. Take it for a test drive before I actually do kick the bucket.” He said it so seriously like it was the most obvious reason in the world.

“Eddie, really?”

“Oh, come on babe, like you’ve never thought about laying down in one of these bad boys.” 

“Contrary to what you might believe, no, no I haven't.” 

Eddie reaches out then, making a child-like gesture of opening and closing his hand. You walk forward and curl your fingers around his. “Switch places with me, see how it feels.”

“No, I’m not getting in there.” You laugh.

“Why not? Do you really want the first time you experience this to be when you’re dead? You won’t even know if it's uncomfortable or not.” He pulls you forward even more. 

“Eddie no-”

“Come on… If you won’t switch then get in with me.” 

You give in, sighing playfully as you bend down and crawl into the cramped casket. Eddie tries his best to shift over so you have space, but the area inside is only so big and definitely was never intended for two.

You both are laughing when your knee suddenly loses its steadiness, atop the thin, almost non-existent padding layered over the metal bottom, and slides out from under you and you fall on top of Eddie’s chest with an “oomph”.  You look up and you catch a glint in his eye as they darken just a bit. 

It’s a familiar look, one that he has given you so many times no matter the situation or surroundings. A look that he knows you will give into. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You plead with him, knowing where this will end. 

Eddie looks at you, eyebrows raised in faux confusion. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way, Sweetheart.”

You slap his chest playfully. “Eddie you are giving me your ‘I want sex’ eyes and I am not going to, not here.”

“Baby,” He wines. “Come on. It’ll be sexy. We could even role-play as vampires.” 

“No-”

“Please.” Eddie reaches his hand to cup your cheek, pleading softly as he brings his face closer to yours. You are trying to fight it but you know you can’t and Eddie knows too. As soon as he looked at you with those sultry brown eyes, you were plyant in his grasp.

When his lips press into yours, you sigh, relaxing into him. Your fingers curl into his shirt and you inch up, caging his hips between your thighs. It hasn’t even been thirty seconds from when the kiss started and you can already feel him hardening under you. 

Pulling away, you mumble into him, lips barely touching. “Does it really turn you on thinking of fucking here?” 

Eddie nods and surges forward to reconnect your mouths. His tongue flits past your lips and finds its way inside, caressing your own. 

You're barely-there resolve crumbles as you begin to roll your hips into him. You can feel his hard length as you grind, his breath catches in his throat. 

"Fuck baby," he mumbles against your lips.  "Need to feel you around me."

There is a heat coursing through you, clouding your mind as your fingers begin to unbutton his pants. 

Eddie is eager, his hips press up into your hands, pushing you to free him faster. The blue cotton of his boxers has turned a deeper color in a small spot where the head of his cock rests, the precum there being soaked up by the cloth. 

You slide a nail up his covered shaft and a great shiver overtakes his body under you. "Don't tease me- please."

A chuckle bubbles out of you. "But that's the fun part." 

Eddie just whimpers in response. 

You begin pushing your fingers past the elastic waistband. You pull the fabric down and bring your other hand up to help situate both his pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh.

His cock springs forward and you can't help the feeling of absolute lust coursing through your veins. You need him inside you, now. 

You silently thank your past self for deciding to wear a dress today. In your need, you don't think you would be able to wrangle yourself out of a pair of pants. 

Firmly you take Eddie's cock into your hand. He hisses at the new pressure you ar editing him. 

"Fuck baby, just like that." His hips jump into your touch. 

"Gonna let me fuck myself on you? Gonna let me take what I want?"

Eddie only nods. Words have left him as he stares into your sultry gaze. 

You begin to stroke him, up and down, spreading the stickiness leaking from his tip with your thumb. 

Then, you begin to scoot up his body. Hovering over him. Eddie watches in awe as you take him up in one hand and move your panties over with the other. A slow moan releases itself from your as you begin to sink down on him.

Eddie's cock was perfect. It always felt so good to be wearied around him, his head pushing deeper into you. 

Both of your breathing is labored. You try to keep yourself calm, you don't want to rush into riding him, you want to take your time making each of you feel wonderful. Eddie. On the other hand, is trying not to combust as he lays there and watches.

The way your dress is hiked up around your beautifully, thick thighs, how his cock disappears into you, surrounded by a curly thatch of hair. 

God he loved you. It was the only way to explain why his heart was beating out his chest. 

You groan as you feel him entering you. There is a slight burn as you stretch around him. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. Eddie starts to make choked noises and his hands reach out to grab you. His fingers grip your hips, helping you grind into him. Your own hands grasp at his covered stomach. 

There was an ache building as you moved. Low in the depth of your stomach and it began to grow. The more you fucked yourself onto Eddie the more the ache was felt. IT had you clenching down around him. You cunt milking his cock of everything he could give you.  

Eddie’s hands caress your body. When his fingertips touch skin, it's like an electric shock goes through you. 

“Eddie-” You moan.

“I know, love.” He mummers. 

“Can feel you so deep.” You grind harder, shivering as your clit rubs against his pubic bone. “Need more.”

“Yeah? Take it, baby, take anything you want.” 

You catch Eddie’s hands and guide them up under your dress and to your breasts. 

He hums in approval as he pushes your bra down and begins to play with your nipples, pinching and pulling them slightly.

Your head lolls to the side, hair falling down around you. It’s taking so much energy for you to keep moving. Your legs are beginning to tire out, there is a sting in your muscles. Your knees are screaming at you as they dig into the not-so-comfortable foam at the bottom of the casket. 

Body becoming rigid, you cry out, moaning Eddie’s name loudly into the living room. Your fingers cling to him as your body caves into him. You can no longer keep moving so Eddie begins bucking his hips into yours, helping you to ride out this high and bring him to his own. 

Eddie lets you fall almost completely on top of him once he’s finished. His arms wrap around you, your breaths in sync with the other. 

As you rest your forehead on Eddie’s chest, you feel the tiny movement of him jerking. He’s trying not to laugh. 

You crane your neck to look up at him. “What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Eddie.” 

“Nothing, just that we fucked in a casket.” His smile was as wide as could be,

You let your head fall and you laugh into his chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Let's play a little game | Ethan Landry x Reader

Summary: You get a phone call from a masked ID when you’re home alone…

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smut, fingering, p + v action, ambiguous consent, home invasion, cheating,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You looked at your reflection in the mirror as you brushed your hair, admiring how hot your body looked in those small shorts and cami. The rumors were true, you really looked your best in your early adulthood. You posed, making sure all your curves were in a flattering angle, and sent a picture to your boyfriend. It was a bummer Chad was away in Woodsboro for the weekend when you looked that good.

After exchanging some naughty texts with Chad, you called Tara if she wanted to come over and watch horror movies. The weather had been gloomy and cold all day, which was perfect for the occasion.

‘’If you had called me two hours ago, I would be running over in my pajamas and bringing along my fuzzy blanket, but I may have gotten a call from a certain brunet from my film class and agreed to go on a date…tonight.’’ Tara covered her mouth to stifle her excitement, but you could hear it in her voice.

A smile bloomed on your lips, excited for your friend. ‘’Oh my god! He did?’’

‘’Yes.’’ On the other side of the line, Tara paused, her head full of Tyler. ‘’I’m so nervous. It’s my first date ever.’’

‘’It’ll be okay, T,’’ you reassured her. ‘’And if he turns out to be a jerk, excuse yourself to the bathroom and send me a text. I’ll call you and fake an emergency.’’

Tara promised, then hung up to finish getting ready for her date. She needed to leave before Sam got home and asked a plethora of questions. Maybe she’ll do a full search on Tyler to make sure he’s not a crazy Stab fanatic like her own ex-boyfriend.

You were about to shoot a text to Anika, but your phone rang again. This time, the caller ID was masked.

You answered with a frown.

‘’Hello?’’ a distorted male voice said.

Your frown deepened. ‘’Eh, shouldn’t I be the one saying ‘hello’?’’

‘’Who is this?’’

‘’Who are you trying to reach?’’

‘’I don’t know.’’ There was a short silence, then the man spoke again. ‘’Do you like scary movies?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ You took a body-spray from your vanity desk and spritzed a little on you, smiling when the sweet caramel scent filled the air.

‘’What’s your favorite scary movie?’’

You took a moment to think. ‘’Probably Jennifer’s Body. Does that count? It’s more of a horror comedy, but I’ve watched it a thousand times.’’

The stranger hummed. ‘’The one with the hot chick that eats her best friend’s boyfriend?’’

‘’Yes!’’

‘’Speaking of boyfriend, do you have a boyfriend?’’

‘’Why? You want to ask me out on a date?’’ you joked, fixing the pendant of your necklace that had flipped over.

‘’Maybe.’’

‘’If you want to ask someone out on a date, calling on a masked ID is not the best way. It gives off stalker vibes.’’

‘’I’m not a stalker.’’

‘’How can I know you’re not?’’

‘’If I were a stalker, I would tell you how hard my cock is just from looking at you in those pajamas.’’

You gulped uncomfortably, standing from your vanity chair and going to your window to peer through the curtains to see if anyone was outside. You were on the tenth floor. How would anyone get up there from the outside? It didn’t make sense.

But it was the only window in your bedroom…

‘’I…I’m gonna hang up. I need to take my dog out.’’

It was a lie. You didn’t have a dog, but the stranger on the other end didn’t know that.

‘’Don’t hang up on me!’’ he yelled at you.

You did anyway.

Seconds later, the phone rang again. Fuck.

‘’Why are you calling again?’’ you snapped at the caller, not bothering to check the ID. You knew it was him.

‘’To apologize, of course.’’

‘’Okay. You did. Now bye.’’ You pulled the phone away from your ear, but the man yelled at you.

‘’If you hang up again, I’ll come inside and gut you!’’

The threat was stronger and starting to scare you, but you couldn’t let him know.

‘’You’re bluffing,’’ you said, praying your voice wouldn’t falter. ‘’I’m on a high floor. You can’t get to me.’’

‘’From the outside, no. But who said I’m not already inside.’’

Fear settled in your guts as your phone buzzed with a text message. A picture. Someone in a Ghostface mask standing in your bedroom. He had a knife in his hand and you had a feeling it wasn’t a fake one.

When was this taken? And where was he now?

You searched your vanity for something to use as a weapon. There was a ton of makeup, a few perfume bottles, your hairbrush — all useless. Then your eyes fell on your manicure scissors. You used them a few nights ago to cut a thread from a shirt. They were small but pointy. It could injure your stalker.

Scissors tight in your hand, you stood from your chair and ventured to your living area. It was a very small apartment. The living room and kitchen were merged into the same room and all the lights were off. You turned the main light on, illuminating the whole room, but saw no one.

The curtains were closed. They were tall and thick enough for someone to hide behind.

Putting your fictive big-girl pants on, you walked to the window to check, but jumped and when you heard the distorted voice in your ear.

‘’Let’s play a little game. I say something and you do as I say….or else I’ll use that sharp knife on you. Got it?’’

You gulped and nodded. A part of you wanted to call the cops and signal a home invasion, but if your intruder was already inside, they would never get to you on time. Even at night, New York traffic was a nightmare.

‘’Take those little shorts off. I want to see those lacey panties you have on underneath.’’

You didn’t want to, but you reached for your small dolphin shorts anyway. You weren’t shy with your body, but getting undressed for a stranger to jerk off to you made you stomach churn. Your fingers touched your waistband, about to pull your shorts down, but stopped when you remembered you were not wearing anything under.

‘’I-I'm not wearing any.’’

‘’Don't lie to me. I can see those tiny shorts from here.’’

You looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was hiding. Your bedroom window was already out of the options. Your bed was a box and your closet and the bathroom door were shut. Where the hell was he hiding?

‘’Not the shorts,’’ you corrected. ‘’The panties.’’

‘’Naughty girl.’’

You should be disgusted, but you found yourself blushing — and slightly turned on — at the creepy stranger's words. Was it the Ghostface mask that was suddenly having this effect on you? You did feel a strange liking to the masked killers when you watched horror movies.

‘’Strip.’’

You fumbled to push your dolphin shorts down and out of the way, exposing yourself bare.

‘’Now go back to your room, get on the bed and sit against the pillows.’’

You did as told and leaned back into your pillows, but kept your knees closed. You could sense where this was going. Men loved to watch a girl touch herself. If you look at their internet history, you’ll find a ton of porn videos of women touching themselves.

He tutted you. ‘’Don't try to hide. Spread your legs. I want to see.’’

You knew you shouldn’t part your legs, but your arousal was getting stronger at every instruction. It’s like he had casted a spell on you and you were helpless to disobey him.

God, you should be disgusted with yourself. How could you be turned on by a masked intruder in a Ghostface mask asking you to strip and give him a free view of your intimate parts?

Shutting your subconscious, you parted your legs and exposed yourself, shivering when you felt the cool air of the room.

You heard a groan in your ear. ‘’That’s a beautiful pussy. Show me how wet you are for me.’’

Your free hand slid down your body and to your mound, then lower. You sighed as you reached your folds, spreading them and showing the way your lips glistened with wetness.

‘’Am I wet enough for you, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked into the room, sliding your finger up and down your folds a couple of times.

‘’Why don’t you stick a finger inside? Play with yourself for me.’’

A soft moan slipped from your lips as you did, your finger sliding easily. You thrusted in slowly, then out, and repeated. The pace was too slow for your personal liking, but you knew how to tease and turn on a partner. Watching a video of your fingers sinking in and out of yourself, coated with your arousal had made your boyfriend cum in his dorm bed many times.

But let’s not talk about Chad now.

You added a second finger and caught your bottom lip between your teeth when you curled them. You wish you had your pink vibrator for your clit, but your other hand was occupied holding your phone.

‘’Mmh, you’re making me so fucking hard right now.’’

‘’Are you touching yourself to the sight of me, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked, bringing your thumb to your clit and rubbing.

A distorted whimper came from the other side of the line. He was.

The sensations from your touches were sending fuzzy tingles from your neck to your dripping pussy, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

‘’Is that all you’re going to do? Are you going to just watch me fuck myself for your own pleasure like a selfish asshole…or are you going to come and fuck me?’’

The line went dead and all the lights went off, sending chills down your spine. You removed your fingers, unsure if this was part of the game or not.

‘’Hello?’’ you called into the darkness of your bedroom. ‘’Is someone there?’’

It was stupid to ask, having seen enough horror movies to know what happens to characters who ask that very question.

The light returned with a static noise and you jumped when seeing a tall Ghostface figure standing at the end of your bed, watching you intently. He pounced on your bed like a lion on his prey, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you toward him.

A deafening scream left your throat, thinking he was going to kill you. Instead, he parted your thighs and lifted his robe, his pants already down to his thighs and his hard cock out. He wasted no time, thrusting himself between your wet folds and splitting your cunt open as you moaned out loud.

‘’You like being filled with my cock, uh? You unfaithful little whore!’’ the distorted voice said, grabbing your hips and pounding into you. ‘’Getting fucked by someone else while her boyfrined is away in California.’’

Unfortunately, you couldn't deny it. This cock felt fucking amazing.

You pushed all thoughts of Chad to the back of your head. You’ll figure this out later.

Right now, all you wanted to focus on was the man between your legs.

The sounds that rang from your throat were nothing short of obscene, mouth hanging open helplessly while he wrecked your pussy, his cock slick with the evidence of your arousal. You clawed at your sheets, your back arching from the bed from the intense pleasure filling your whole body.

Moans and grunts mixed with wheezings came from underneath the mask. Breathing must not be easy under the rubber mask. You reached out and took it off, gasping in shock when seeing who was underneath.

Ethan?!

You opened your mouth to speak, but he threw your legs over his shoulders and you cried out at the change of angle, not caring that your boyfriend’s roommate was fucking you.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly

[atlabeth]

Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight 

and thankfully, that all goes okay. 

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals. 

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect. 

But post-ball is rough on both of you. 

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs. 

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses. 

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again) 

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed. 

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you. 

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat. 

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head. 

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck) 

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao 

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted 

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.) 

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down. 

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?” 

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.” 

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well. 

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.” 

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered. 

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.” 

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?” 

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.” 

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.” 

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.” 

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.” 

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.” 

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.” 

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand. 

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.” 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked. 

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped. 

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again. 

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.” 

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.” 

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?” 

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded. 

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.” 

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp. 

yeah girlie I wonder why 

Luke is. not a great dancer 

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol 

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol 

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way. 

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.” 

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.” 

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao 

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together. 

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it. 

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda. 

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him. 

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand. 

“Trust me.” 

And he does, somehow. 

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy. 

“And lift!” 

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him. 

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him. 

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?” 

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?” 

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.” 

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose. 

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.” 

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.” 

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.” 

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.” 

“It truly is.” 

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you. 

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said. 

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.” 

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?” 

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.” 

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.” 

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.” 

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.” 

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so. 

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.” 

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach. 

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room. 

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.” 

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything. 

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins. 

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.” 

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester. 

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.” 

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?” 

“Certainly.” 

“And you are my knight.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed. 

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes. 

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…” 

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile. 

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly. 

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him. 

[worldlxvlys]

i just read part 15 AND NOW I NEED PART 16. here's an idea (if you want). here it goes: fluff. LMAO (it wasn't funny) okay so my idea is that reader finds out chris has been to a party and fucked a girl there (love me some angsty shit)

texts w/ dwb! chris (part 16)

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, cursing, angst to fluffy ending

dwb! chris masterlist

a/n: ok so these two requests are very similar so i kinda combined them, so basically reader finds out about his supplier being flirty and assumes that chris cheats but he doesn’t actually cheat. i think it works better with the storyline cause if he had cheated i wouldn’t have reader go back to him.

hope you still like it, i promise it’s still angsty <333

when i opened my door, chris stood there with flowers in his hand, in the pouring rain.

before i could even get a word out he started talking.

“you are way more than a business transaction to me. i’m not using you for sex, and i’m definitely not cheating on you. i would never do anything to hurt you. i can’t lose you. i won’t lose you. you could curse me out and yell at me for the rest of my life and i still wouldn’t leave you alone. i’d rather have you hate me for the rest of your life than not be a part of it. “

i just stood there staring and listening, taking in the fact that he was standing at my door, soaking wet, with my favorite kind of flowers in his hand. he looked desperate, like he wouldn’t be able to live if i didn’t believe him. i searched his eyes as he spoke, looking and failing to see any signs of dishonesty.

“and i swear i did not cheat on you with my supplier. i know she’s a very touchy person, but i really didn’t think anything of it. i will call her right now and tell her that she needs to tone it down and that i am happily taken and unavailable. i honestly should have done that from the start, but i didn’t think she was flirting with me. “

when i heard that his supplier was being touchy and laughing with him, i just jumped to conclusions. he never actually gave me any reason to believe he would cheat on me.

“the last thing i ever want to do is make you uncomfortable or think, for even a second, that i would cheat on you. i am so so sorry, baby. i will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if that’s what it takes. there is no one else for me, it’s just you. it’ll only ever be you. if you don’t believe anything else that i’ve said, believe that. “

“look-“ he started. i stepped outside, into the rain, interrupting him “stop talking”.

i pulled his face to mine by his shirt, placing my lips on his. our lips moved against each others in perfect sync, as the water droplets continued to fall down our bodies.

as i pulled away to talk, his lips chased mine.

“i’m sorry chris. i shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and made assumptions. i’ve been cheated on and lied to in the past, but i should’ve known that you aren’t like that. i trust you with my life, chris. “ he grinned at that.

“so we agree that we were both in the wrong, then ?” he asked, pressing his forehead to mine.

“definitely” i agreed.

“ok good. can we go inside then? it’s freezing out here” he said, making us both laugh.

“yeah, sorry. i just couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a rain kiss” we continued to laugh as we went inside to warm up.

————————-

hehehe rain kisssss :)

<33333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chanelsturn @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @sosmatt @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @wh0szjoanna

[dearly-somber]

It’s An Affectionate Thing | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, unrequited love, eventual romance

-> w/c. 2183

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. this one was an excuse to write biting because 🤭

-> warnings. N/A

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:21

-> fin. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 22:23

-> edited. Jul. 5th, 2022 @ 00:46

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Jungkook is… weird, to say the least.

He just randomly came up to you in class one day, sat his ass down on the edge of your desk, and started talking to you like it was a normal, everyday routine. Which it was not.

As you got to know him, he only got weirder.

If not for his clinginess (which was admittedly strange considering you’d never met a guy so touchy with a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend), you’d say his strange habit of rubbing his head against you was probably one of his weirder characteristics.

And it wasn’t even in a creepy If-you-don’t-get-away-from-me-immediately-I’m-going-to-call-the-cops kinda way, but more so a confused, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kinda way. He’d hug you and not so subtly rub his cheek against yours, or he’d hold your hand and make up some dumb excuse to nose your wrist (he kept insisting that you were wearing perfume when he knew you didn’t).

One time—while hugging you—he pressed his face into your neck and just… inhaled. He hasn’t done it again after you unceremoniously shoved his face away with a warning not to do it again unless he wanted to keep both his eyes, but it was beyond weird and (dare I say) creepy (at the time)

He also quite literally growled at one of your classmates when he was being a misogynistic, sexist piece of shit and wouldn’t leave you alone. And sometimes, when he’s being a brat and moaning about how you pull away too quickly after giving him a hug, he whines. Like, back of his throat, puppy-begging-for-food kind of whine.

This in of itself would be somewhat bearable, if not for his friends. They were equally as weird, if not weirder.

There were eleven of them total, seven guys and four girls—all living in the same house near the edge of town. And despite already having such a large group, they were completely unwelcoming of outsiders, too tight-knit to allow others into their ranks. People had suspected that they were in a polyamorous relationship, or that it was some weird sex cult. They hadn’t ever specifically said that they were dating amongst themselves, and being the secretive group they were, they didn’t bother acknowledging nor denying any of the crazy school rumors.

You didn’t wanna bring the rumors up with Jungkook and make him uncomfortable, so instead you chose to ignore them and pretend they weren’t there. Jungkook tried to introduce you once, but you’d seen the way they looked at you—how they glared when you walked into the cafeteria with Jungkook glued to your hip. You’d come to the nifty conclusion that they did not like you, and as much as you wanted to make Jungkook happy by letting him introduce you to his inner circle, you didn’t wanna crush his little heart by being immediately rejected.

Coming up with excuses to avoid them was hard, but if they were anything like their youngest, it was probably for the best if you kept your distance, anyway.

How you wished you’d been able to stay away for longer.

“Jungkook, I really don’t wanna go to your house.”

“But we have to go somewhere, and you already told me that your parents don’t like me.” He whines, his big bambi eyes and pouty lips making you internally groan.

“That’s because they think you’re too clingy.” You state matter of factly, deadpanning your gaze to his arm, tightly wrapped around yours.

Grinning sheepishly, he tugs you in the direction of his housemates. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” They walk a few meters ahead of you, shoving and pushing each other while talking, rowdy laughter echoing behind them. Your heart aches for a moment, watching them enviously. They look close…

“Are we gonna be able to get anything done? There’s like. Twelve of you in one house, thirteen plus myself.” You watch them retreat further and further ahead of you, your and Jungkook’s feet dragging as you fall behind. “They don’t exactly seem like the quiet type…”

Jungkook frowns at the (hopefully) unintentional dig, clearing his throat and hesitantly intertwining your hands. When you don’t pull away, he continues. “Just give them a chance. I know the rumors are weird, but they couldn’t be farther from the truth. I promise you you’ll like them once you get to know them,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy eyes. “Please?”

You sigh, nodding concededly and reluctantly letting him pull you along. “Okay. Can we at least do the assignment somewhere private? I don’t really think your friends—”

“Family.”

The correction throws you off guard, and you stare at him. Your voice betrays you, eyes soft. “Right, your family. I don’t… I don’t think they like me very much.”

He tsks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. But,” he turns to you and boops your nose playfully. “If it really makes you feel better, we can do the project in my room.”

His room? Why his room? Why not outside, or in the kitchen, or anywhere else but his room?

You squint your eyes at him suspiciously. “What are you planning, Jungkook?”

He grins mischievously, batting his eyelashes in an effort to make himself look more innocent than you know he is. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You scoff. “Pervert.”

Jungkook giggles in response, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and leaning into you while not so subtly sniffing your hair.

…Brat.

Jungkook drags you upstairs to his room before any of his housemates can snatch you away from him, not bothering to listen to their rowdy complaints. He knows that they’ll overwhelm you the second they get their claws on you, and he’d preferably not scare you away just when you’re getting more comfortable around him.

He practically throws you onto his bed, followed directly by his overexcited body knocking the breath out of you. Jungkook huffs weirdly before pressing his forehead against your shoulder, hands laying curled up into your sides. Groaning, your hands shoot out to his shoulders, trying to push him off. “Can’t— can’t breathe—“

“Sorry,” he sheepishly grins, pushing himself up by his hands to look down at you with his hair flopping over his head. You catch your breath, feeling the immense relief at not having his full weight on top of you, too preoccupied to notice the compromising position you’re in—him hovering over you with his knees slotted on either side of your waist. Jungkook looks concerned when he asks, “Can you breathe yet?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can breathe. Can you uh,” your cheeks burn and you avoid meeting his eyes, your hands sliding from his shoulders. “Can you get off, please?”

“Oh, I— sorry, I’m sorry.” He gets off of you faster than you expected him to, sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the bed to give you some space. You copy him, staring at one another awkwardly. It’s your first time being in his house, let alone his room, and your heart stutters when you realize he closed the door behind you on your way in. Just great. You look at him, biting the inside of your lip. Jungkook has proven to be a very sweet boy, but he is still a boy—and you are a girl. Alone. In his bedroom.

You don’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“Listen, Kook…” He perks up, listening to you attentively. Taking an encouraging breath, you continue. “I hope you didn’t choose your room for ulterior motives, because I came here for school. I’m not going to have sex with you—“

Jungkook’s whole face turns red, frantically shaking his hands in front of you. “No no no! No, I’d never—I don’t, I don’t see you that way, I promise!” He rambles, scooting away from you in an effort to convince you that that’s not why he chose this location. Grinning stupidly, you reach over and pat his knee.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Relax.” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking. He just wanted to make you feel more comfortable… he didn’t think you’d take it the wrong way. Rolling your eyes at the cute pout on his lips, you ruffle his hair playfully. “Let’s get started, hm?”

You turn your back to him so that you can reach into your bag and grab your things, rifling through the books inside to look for your laptop. What you don’t notice is the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on your back—watching you and admiring the annoyed pout on your lips with a soft smile.

“Found it! So,” you cross your legs and situate the keyboard in your lap. “What do you wanna start with first? I was thinking we could start with, uhm…” Your voice dies in the back of your throat when you catch sight of Jungkook’s dazed, strangely affectionate half-smile. You clear your throat, cheeks heating up because why the fuck is he looking at you like you’ve hung the stars?

“Uhm… Jungkook?”

“Right, sorry,” he shakes his head as if to bring himself back to reality. “Why don’t we start with research first?” He’s hesitant, and you feel bad. He must think you’re going to say no.

“Sounds good. My screen is pretty small, though.” You bite your lip, thinking about how you could share the screen in a way that he wouldn’t hurt his neck.

“Uhm. I—I have… can you scoot a bit closer to the headboard?”

You look at him questioningly but give in to his hopeful puppy eyes. Sighing, you scoot back until he places a gentle hand on your knee to halt your movements. You try and look at his face but he looks down so that it’s hidden by his hair. “Jungkook?” You whisper, hesitant to increase your volume.

Jungkook either doesn’t hear you or he ignores you, clambering toward you distractedly and shifting in behind you. You suck in a breath, the hair on your arms raising. He slots his legs on either side of you, pulling you to his chest by your waist and hesitantly resting his chin on your shoulder. The closeness freezes you to the spot, and you swear you can feel him eyeing the side of your face for a reaction.

You exhale through your teeth and will yourself to relax in his arms despite your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook smiles, locking his hands around your waist and inhaling your scent as subtly as possible. You ignore him and clear your throat. “Shall we start with origin?” You whisper, unable to raise your voice due to the suffocating closeness, cheeks red and heart beating ten times too quickly.

Jungkook hums next to your ear. If he notices your racing heartbeat, he doesn’t comment on it.

Y/N yawns tiredly, apologizing in a half-asleep voice.

“Just take a break,” Jungkook pleads, trying to move her arms out of the way and biting back a growl of frustration when she swats his hands away from the screen.

“I’m fine.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open!” He reasons, pulling away to look at the back of her head. Stupid, stubborn girl. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve been working on this for hours. Let’s just take a quick break. Please?”

“We’re so close to finishing…” She sounds dejected, another yawn leaving her lips. Jungkook frowns at her, trying to figure out how to get her to put away her stupid computer and just take a nap, for gods sake. Knowing that this is the only course of action that’ll direct her attention to something other than this stupid class assignment, he determinedly leans forward.

You yelp in surprise, turning to Jungkook with wide eyes. Did he just—

“Did you just fucking bite me?” Your voice is filled with newfound life and energy, jaw hanging as you look down at your shoulder. Looking at him, you find no remorse in those chocolate brown eyes… only a smug, satisfied expression.

“Yes.” He laughs at the horror on your face, shaking his head as if he knows something you don’t. “It’s an affectionate thing, I promise.”

“How is you biting me an ‘affectionate thing’?” You hiss, watching as he shakes his head, hair flopping around his face cutely.

“It just is,” he shrugs. You squint suspiciously, setting the laptop down next to you while silently planning his demise.

Jungkook eyes you warily and yells when you punch his arm, rubbing the spot furiously. “What was that for!”

“Would you rather I bite you back?” You snap threateningly, sitting on your knees to look down at him. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the threat, his cheeks and the top of his ears going beet red. You grin to yourself evilly, crawling towards him. Your eyes squint in a silent threat, prowling like a bloodthirsty animal. “Just wait until I sink my teeth into you… c’mere!”

Jungkook yelps, jumping up from the bed and running away from you while incoherently yelling that no, only he’s allowed to bite you.

“Why?”

“I— I can’t tell you!”

“Guess I’m gonna bite you, then—“

“—Y/N NO!”

[its-time-to-write]

Final one for today

This one is a little odder but I feel like a single parent story would be great for Jamie

Like maybe reader is a single parent and is out in the park where the child is playing alone with a football (maybe trying to do some tricks) and accidentally kicks it to far and it hits Jamie (Who maybe is jogging by) jamie brings it over and does some tricks and the kid is like omg can you show me how to do that! reader is like embarrassed but Jamie is like sure so they spend a bunch of time playing football. The kid is a fan of Richmond but tickets are expensive so Jamie invites them to a game (Free) and they get to meet the team and it becomes a regular thing

Jamie is trying to work up the nerve to ask out Reader (He has never dated someone with kids before) and he doesn't want to mess up the relationship finally the child is like please ask my parent out!

I can't wait to see what you do with these!!

Here’s another one that I’ve been sitting on forever! Finally got around to it. And in case you couldn’t tell, I freakin love Keeley Jones. I think she’s great. Enjoy!

if only love were true

Thank god that Keeley Jones is your friend and she promised you’d never have to go stag to a work function.

“Keeley,” you say over the phone, “I need you to be my date for this fancy dinner/gala/thing I have for work next Sunday. I absolutely cannot go alone.”

“Next Sunday?” she says. “Let me check my calendar.”

You wait a moment as she presumably scrolls through her phone, checking her availability.

“Sorry babes,” she says after a long moment, “I’ve got a work thing too. Otherwise I’d totally be down to go as your hot trophy date.”

You groan. “Is there any way you can get out of it? Out of all the things I’ve taken you to, this is the one I need you at the most.” 

Keeley’s silent. You can tell she’s thinking. She knows why this one is important.

“Alright,” she says finally. “I can’t go, but what if I sent you with a friend of mine?” She continues loudly over your beginning protests. “He’s really sweet and fit and funny, and he owes me favors pretty much for the rest of his life. You’d have a great time I SWEAR.”

“I don’t know,” you say. “Do you think he can go along with everything? There’s a 50/50 chance it’ll be a shitshow.”

“Absolutely,” Keeley replies without hesitation. “He’s fucking great. Can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but he’s learned how to use those skills for the greater good.”

“Uh huh,” you say. “Right. I’m trusting you on this one, Keels. If he’s as good as you say, I’ll take him. But I really, really need this to be good.”

“Trust me,” she says, “You won’t regret it.”

—

Jamie Tartt arrives at your doorstep, fully briefed by Keeley as to his responsibilities. 

Be a gentleman, make her laugh, don’t fucking leave her with Harry.

Keeley showed him pictures of Harry’s instagram so Jamie would know exactly who he is on the lookout for.

It’s funny and it’s weird, but he’s not uncomfortable standing at the door, waiting for some woman he doesn’t even know. He’d do anything for Keeley, well aware that if she’s asking a favor, it’s for a good cause.

This is far out of his usual realm of expertise, but he reminds himself that he’s a person outside of being a footballer. A regular person would be a blind date for a friend of a friend at an awful work function.

Right?

Jamie doesn’t have time to dwell on the normality of this situation because the door is opening and you’re standing in front of him in some long gown that he swears outshines the stars.

“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about this.”

You call a goodbye down the hall before shutting the door. Jamie assumes it’s to a flatmate or something, whoever the owner of the other car in the driveway is. He just smiles. 

“I’ve had weirder dates,” he says. “Don’t worry about a thing, love. Tonight’s gonna be fucking mint.” He offers you his arm.

You take it and feel yourself relax. It’ll be fine.

—

It is not fine.

Harry’s there, and god help you if you don’t want to kick him where it hurts. He’s surrounded by girls, shining that far-too dazzling smile and you’re pretty sure you’re going to throw up. Your grip on Jamie’s arm tightens, and he follows your gaze to your ex-flame.

“He’s fucking old,” Jamie comments.

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of how he gets you,” you reply. “Acts all charming and smart and shit and then next thing you know, you’re in his bed. Soon as that’s over, you’re done.”

“Twat,” Jamie responds with such conviction that you chuckle a little, despite yourself. That is, until Harry sees you and sheds his little entourage as he makes his way over.

“Shit,” you whisper. “How do I look?”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Jamie replies without missing a beat.

The words are barely out of his mouth when Harry is upon you, leaning in for a hug that Jamie doesn’t allow. You’re grateful for his block as he pretends he was going for a handshake. You don’t want Harry touching you and the sentiment is reinforced as he gives you a once-over and says, “Didn’t expect to see you here, darling. What, are you neglecting your duties for the evening?”

That sentence must have some hidden meaning, because your teeth are bared and it’s gone over Jamie’s head.

“My duties,” you say through clenched teeth, “include being here at this gala because we both work for the same company.”

Harry tilts his head in mock sympathy. “Yes, but if I recall your priorities have… shifted.”

Jamie might be losing circulation in his arm and he may not know exactly what is happening here, but he knows enough. Keeley told him Harry was a right git without really saying why, but he is in no need of an explanation. In fact, he thinks that “a right git,” is too much of a compliment.

Harry turns his attention toward Jamie. “Has she told you?”

Jamie doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he’ll be damned if he lets this prick win.

“Yes,” he replies forcefully.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Ah, and that’s not a dealbreaker?”

Jamie shakes his head. 

“How…progressive of you,” Harry replies, meaning the exact opposite. “You see, I wouldn’t want someone who… well, you know.”

Jamie’s about to say, “No, I don’t know,” and also maybe punch Harry when more people come up, demanding your attention. As you both turn away, Harry calls, “Let me know when you get tired of the immaturity and need a real man. My bed is always open to you.”

Your face is bright red and you think you’re going to bolt. Jamie starts like he’s going to fight Harry and for a moment you wonder if Keeley sent him because he’s a little bit feral. 

Unfortunately for Harry and fortunately for you, he spoke a bit too loudly. 

You’ll find out later that he was heard by some higher-ups and removed from the premises. However, since that information is not made available to you until the next day, you spend the rest of the evening looking over your shoulder for Harry’s reappearance.

Jamie, god bless him, is a wonderful date. He goes the whole nine-yards, holding your hand, tucking your hair behind your ear, cracking jokes with you and others at your table. He’s making you look good, and feel relaxed in the process. By the end of the night you’re feeling confident and have made a good impression on several people on the board. 

You have new opportunities at your disposal, as well as a potential promotion. You put a reminder in your phone to send Keeley some daisies as a thank-you. You’ll send something for Jamie as well.

—

He walks you to your door, ever the gentleman. You thank him profusely for the night, and tell him you’ll be rooting for him next time Richmond has a match. He grins. “You a fan?” he asks.

You laugh. “Yeah, I am. Used to go to every match till… well, I just don’t get out much anymore.”

Jamie grins. “We’ll have to change that, darling.”

Darling. 

He says it so differently than Harry. It’s all… bubbly. Not condescending, not designed to make you feel small. 

“Good night, Jamie,” you say. 

—

You don’t really expect to see (or hear from) Jamie again, except you do. Because he’s texting you.

The content varies, from messages passed on from Keeley to gifs to memes to weird little stories from training. You think you’d like his coaches, even Roy. It already felt like you knew them from all their interviews that you’ve seen, but hearing the behind-the-scenes snippets solidifies the feeling even more. Your chatting is regulated to the early morning and your lunch breaks, as you’re not much of an evening person anymore.

Jamie doesn’t seem to mind, he’s up early to do extra training with Roy and you’re up early to prepare for the day. You enjoy hearing from him at 6am on the dot every morning.

Saturdays are nice, because you don’t have work. Keeley comes over sometimes, but today you’re on the Richmond Green. You’re sitting on a bench, watching a boy kick a small football. You’re so completely absorbed in the way he’s running back and forth that you are startled when a shadow casts over your face.

“Fancy seeing you here,” says a distinctly Mancunian voice.

“Jamie!” you exclaim. “What’re you doing here?”

Jamie points to his trainers. “Going for a quick run. Roy’s out of town, but he still makes me take laps. Fucking mental.” He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to reply when the boy with the tiny football comes flying over. “Are you Jamie Tartt?” he asks.

Jamie crouches to his level. “I am. What’s your name, mate?”

“Liam!” he replies. “I have a football like you!”

Jamie smiles. “Good lad. Keep up with the practice, and you’ll be better than me someday.”

Liam’s bouncing up and down, so excited that he throws his ball in the air. Jamie catches it and does a trick. At this point Liam is completely enamored with Jamie, and you are as well. He’s giving this kid his complete attention, making his whole day. Anyone else would have just shooed him off, but not Jamie.

He’s good with kids, your brain yells. 

You tell your brain to shut up.

Jamie tosses the ball back to Liam. “Where’s your mum?” he asks. “Might have tickets to a match for you.”

Liam points. Jamie turns to look behind the bench where you’re sitting, as that’s where Liam is pointing. There’s no one.

“Which one?” he asks, turning back to Liam.

“Me,” you say. “I’m his mum.”

Liam climbs into your lap and holds your face in his tiny hands. “Mum, Jamie Tartt says we can go to a match!” he says.

You laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up, love, Jamie hasn’t made any promises.”

Liam settles into your lap, facing Jamie. He can’t see your face or the pleading look you’re giving Jamie.

Please don’t mess this up, you try to say with your eyes. Jamie must get the message because he keeps smiling and asks Liam if he wants to kick the ball around for a bit. You watch them go, dreading the imminent conversation.

—

Liam’s asleep in his little Richmond pajamas. He loves football, and you watch every single match the Greyhounds play. Tickets are expensive, and you promised you’d take him to a real game one day. Truth is, you aren’t sure when that will be. It’s not easy being a single mum, but as you watch Liam’s sleeping face, you know you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

You sigh and get out of the rocking chair. Might as well call Jamie and get it over with.

Please pick up, you pray, and he does; you’re in the dim kitchen lights, poking at a cup of tea.

“Hey!” comes Jamie’s surprised voice. “You alright? Need anything?”

You shake your head even though he can’t see. “No, I wanted to talk about today. And Liam. Harry’s his dad.”

“Figured,” Jamie replies. “Made his comments at the gala make more fucking sense.”

“Yeah,” you say. Harry is a fucking prick. “Harry… he doesn’t have any custody. He’s not allowed near Liam. He also doesn’t pay child support. Or want a child. Or anything, really. He just wants to fuck around and do what he wants with no consequences. I should’ve known better honestly, I’m not even one to go around like that. Figures the one time I do it ends up like this. Not that I’m complaining,” you continue, “Liam is the best part of my life. It’s just hard when I keep losing people because they don’t want him too. Keeley’s the only one who stuck around. Did you know she’s a surprisingly great babysitter? Even kicks around a football in the yard with him.” 

Jamie makes a surprised noise. It’s hard to picture Keeley in that exact situation, but not hard to imagine her doing anything that her friends needed.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I get if this makes things weird. You don’t have to get us tickets to the match. Liam’s still pretty little anyway… always taking bathroom breaks and needing snacks.”

“The owner’s box would be perfect,” Jamie blurts.

That isn’t the reply you were expecting, so you’re silent for a moment as he continues, “I mean… It’s easy to get in and out of, Rebecca’s got a fridge and a restroom…People bring their kids all the time. He’d love it. I’d love it,” he finishes.

You’re not sure. This is the longest anyone has ever stuck around when it comes to Liam, and you don’t really want to go to jail for murder if Jamie breaks his heart. All he could talk about for the rest of the day was how Jamie Tartt played football with him. Isaac McAdoo is is number one favorite, but you think Jamie is now a close second. 

“Alright,” you say finally. “We’ll be there.”

—

It’s past Liam’s bedtime, like way past, and he’s asleep with his head on your shoulder. Your arms are tired from holding him and your throat is sore from screaming at the Richmond match. Jamie was right, Liam loved it. He wore his McAdoo jersey and got to meet the whole team before the game. You have a picture of him on Isaac’s shoulders, smiling so big. It’s weird to think that he probably won’t remember any of this when he’s older. 

You’re waiting in a lobby of some kind for Jamie to come out. You’re leaning against a wall, feeling Liam’s steady breathing as he dreams. 

Meanwhile, Jamie’s in the locker room, freaking out. 

“Coach,” he says, wearing a hole in the floor, “how do you ask out a girl who’s got a kid?” 

“Well Jamie-” Ted says. 

“Are there some kind of rules I’m supposed to follow?” Jamie continues, oblivious. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to say?”

“I think-” Ted tries again. 

“Nah fuck it, I’m just going to ask,” Jamie says.

Ted grins. “That sounds like a good plan, son.”

Jamie smiles back. “Thanks, coach. You always have the best advice.”

Ted shakes his head, still smiling as Jamie leaves the locker room.

—

Jamie rounds the corner to find you half-asleep against a wall near some trophy case, with Liam breathing out tiny snores. He swears that he’s never seen anything more beautiful, and it freaks him out for a moment. It’s…domestic in a way he didn’t ever expect his life to be. 

He shakes off the weirdness and walks over. 

“Hi,” he says, unable to contain a smile. “D’you want me to hold him for you?”

“That would actually be amazing,” you reply. “My arms are killing me.”

The sight of Liam asleep in Jamie’s arms is enough to make your brain go oh shit. Because, oh. Shit. This boy is going to break your heart if you’re not careful.

“How’d you like the game?” Jamie asks as you begin to walk to the car park.

“I loved it,” you reply sincerely. “Haven’t actually been to a match since this one.” You pat Liam’s back affectionately. “Kid had a great time too. Talked about meeting Isaac McAdoo the entire match. He’s like some football aficionado in a four-year-old’s body, swear down.”

Jamie’s still smiling as he helps you get Liam into his car seat. “What’re you doing the rest of the night?”

You laugh. “Oh god, I wish I could say going to sleep. But I have to meal prep for the week while Liam’s asleep. Otherwise he gets his sticky fingers in everything. Gonna take a solid two hours, at least.”

Jamie hesitates. It’s now or never. “Could I come over?” he asks. “Can’t cook for shit, but I could keep you company.”

You pause. “Jamie- I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

But god, you want it so bad.

“I’m being serious,” Jamie says. “Not trying to mess with you. I like you. Think you’re fucking fit. I like being around you and I liked kicking the football around with Liam. He’s a good lad. I think it’s worth giving a try.”

You look at Liam. He’s still fast asleep, oblivious to his mum’s turmoil.

“Alright,” you say, still not looking at Jamie. “Let’s give it a try.”

Jamie grins and ghosts his thumb across your cheek, making you look at him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So now’s your moment to tell me to fuck off.”

You smile. “Can’t say that in front of Liam anyway,” you say as you crash your lips into his.

[writefightandflightclub]

Blurb request?

What if you stole Santiago's favorite hat, and he caught you wearing it, very casual, nothing to see here, nothing at all.

Make you mine: Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN!reader

Thanks so much for sending this, Rally! 🧡☺️ I wrote a hat-based thing with Frankie x reader, but I gave this a bash too as I love the concept with Santiago (my beloved) too! I hope you like it!

Warnings: fluff, steam, lots of mentions of erections, cum kink sorta (brief), light-hearted. 🧢 🍆

A hard swallow trails down Santiago’s neck as he clocks you. Wearing his hat.

He’s arrested by the sight of you, an instant flare of heat blooming across his skin as he realises, in no time at all, that he likes it. Likes seeing you in something of his. Or more so, looking like you’re his by association.

The attached and very intrusive thought is powerful and sudden on the heels of that realisation.

He’d love to see how you’d look wearing his hat and nothing else.

He quirks a brow in interest. He didn’t know that, specifically, would do it for him, but in fairness, he’s pretty sure you are the common denominator here. With you, he’s always discovering new ways that you turn him on.

Shame he can’t act on it though. You and he have been flirting back and forth, sure. But, you’d told him, not long after you’d met that… things were complicated for you. You and him? Maybe there was an instant spark, but you’d been clear the two of you would be nothing outside of friends.

So, he tries to compose himself as you walk over to him. A glass in each hand - one for him. “Thank you,” he smiles smoothly, clinking his glass with yours in a “cheers”.

The other boys have retired inside, after a poker night out on the deck. But you and he have lingered. For some air.

He lets his gaze linger on you, confident enough to drink you in for a stretched moment, your coy gaze even more alluring than usual from beneath the brim of his hat. He tries his best to ignore the blood thudding to his crotch. But you make that difficult to do - no-one else could ever.

“I’m cosplaying you.” You tease, brazenly acknowledging your blatant and unforgivable theft. “Pass me a stick of Wrigleys, Santi? It’ll really up my authenticity.”

He chuckles. Unable to take his eyes off of your bright smile. Your gaze flits gently over his face in return. Lingers on the creases radiating out around his eyes. Dips to his mouth. It makes him self-conscious - which he isn’t used to. Then again, he’s never met anyone who has quite the effect on him that you do.

He perches himself on top of the wooden porch rail. Gestures for you to join him and you seat yourself there too, body angled in towards him.

He can’t help it now. Looks up at his cap perched on your pretty head. He spreads his thighs a little to accommodate his growing bulge between his legs. “-You know. If any of the boys touched my hat…”

“Oh, I know,” you pout comically, shaking your head side-to-side. “Dead to you.” So you know his hat is famously off-limits then? In that case, either you must have put together that he’s a soft-touch for you; or, you’re trying to provoke him. But hey. He doesn’t exactly mind either option. “So.” You take a casual sip of your drink, your eyes flashing with mischief from over the brim. “The boys would be in for it. But what will my punishment be?”

Santiago takes a deep, steadying breath he dearly hopes is subtle as the bulge between his legs grows uncomfortably swollen, pressing up against the seam of his jeans in a way that makes his eyes prick with tears.

Fuck, he doesn’t normally have this much trouble controlling himself; but there’s something about you. Lord knows, he’s trying to keep his internal monologue clean but all he can think is: mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Undoubtedly, he can think of a few (hundred) ways he could “discipline” you, if that’s what you’re into. His palm itches where it rests against his thigh, becoming suddenly tacky.

“Well. First of all. Here,” he offers, pulling a pack of gum from his pocket. “You’re not really nailing ‘me’ yet. Needs more work.”

Nailing him? Fuck, that’s an unfortunate choice of words when he’s trying to take his mind off of ravaging you.

“No?”

“Not seeing the resemblance, cariño.”

“Well. That checks out.” You tug performatively on the brim of his cap as though you know exactly what you’re doing to him, actually. “I am a hell of a lot cuter.”

Fuck, you’re not wrong. You’re fucking adorable.

You take a piece of the offered gum, beginning to chew rather obnoxiously on it. “How about now?”

An easy laugh bobs in his neck. “Holy shit. Now it’s like looking in a mirror.”

You slide closer to him, shimmying yourself along the porch rail. An urgent heat prickles at his skin. Your proximity slips a warm snake down his spine.

“So, you approve, Santi?” Santiago could swear your voice has taken on a lusty quality. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on his part. “You like me wearing your hat?”

He almost chokes on his masking swig of his drink. Christ, if you only knew how much he approves. If you could see the sordid images playing on a loop in his head right now? Well, you’d probably throw your drink in his face, to be honest. Actually - he could do with it, to cool off. Maybe he can pour his own drink over himself if things get really dire.

“You think Frankie’s cap would suit me too? Or do I look better in yours?”

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Even the drum of his heartbeat feels like it’s trying to claim you. Trying to bust out of his chest to reach out for you.

Fuck. Are you trying to kill him? He doesn’t have a gasket, but he’s pretty sure he’s about to blow one all the same. “You know you look good,” he assures huskily, voice hollowed out by want, though still trying his damn best to toe the line.

Friends. You don’t want him to do the things he’s doing to you in his head right now. Right?

You smirk, looking all too pleased with yourself before taking a swig of your drink. His gaze is fixated on you as you wrap your plush lips around the mouth of the bottle, your fleet of pink tongue poking into the rim. The image certainly is… inspiring.

Fuck, he’s sweating. Swipes the back off his hand across his forehead, catching the moisture gathering inexplicably at his temples.

Then, to his horror, you stand, slinking towards him and slotting your hips in between his spread thighs. You crane around his form, careful that the brim of his own hat doesn’t poke his eyes out, and you dip your plush mouth towards this shell of his ear. Your whisper beds down right under his skin. “How do you think I’d look wearing this and nothing else, Santi? Would I look like I was…yours?”

Wearing my hat. Wearing my hat. Wearing my cum.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Santiago’s brain fully short circuits. He blinks dumbly at you, mouth slightly agape, as you simply look on in amusement, biting down on your lip.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to jump at the chance to find out, but…

He sniffs. Shoots for non-chalant and doesn’t pull it off. “I thought we… I thought. Just friends?”

“Santiago,” you purr. “I stole your hat. Catch-up.”

Catch-up? Holy shit. Maybe he’d have a clue what you were up to if he could think straight. His erection is straining against his pants so hard now he has to shift his hands to cover it. Has to bite back a strangled whimper at the painful pinch.

Your mouth twitches around a delicious self-satisfied smirk as you clock the state he’s in. You giggle, brazenly eyeing his bulge with interest. “Benny told me this might do the trick.”

Santiago’s eyes tighten then. He pouts up at you, eyes twinkling, almost wistful. “Honey.” He lifts the hat from off of your head, setting it down on his own instead. “You? You don’t need any tricks.”

“No?”

Fuck, the way you’re both so devious and so shy at the same time is killing him. “Nuh uh. I’ve wanted you for a long time. You’re gorgeous.”

He boxes you in a little more tightly with his sturdy thighs. Slips his hands on to your waist. Your breath hitches, and he likes the fact he’s finally managing to turn the tables. He dips his mouth towards you, and you manoeuvre around the brim of his cap until your mouth is a whisper away from his kiss. “Wait,” you urge. “I have gum.”

He can’t help but laugh - a resonant chuckle shucking in his throat- as you take a moment to toss it aside, and then he’s just looking at you again. Gaze flitting softly over your face. Arms drawing you close to him once more until his lips brush yours. The contact sends tingles all the way down to his toes; he’s waited so long for this.

He deepens the kiss, soft and more tentative than he’d usually pitch it, his tongue probing into your mouth, but you return his growing fervour. Your palms brace against his sturdy thighs, and he swallows the smooth moan which blooms from your mouth as he clasps you to him.

You pull back for air, looking slightly giddy, and you survey him, a cheeky, devilish glint in your eyes. “You know. You look really fucking good in my hat, Santiago.” Your dark, teasing voice is like honey poured into his middle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You look like you’re mine.”

He shucks air from between his teeth in surprise, his face splitting into a lopsided, awed smile. His eyes turn dark with hunger, pupils eating away at warm umber.

He is. He is yours, if you want him.

He decides then, that he can push this a little further. You seem keen - and Lord knows he is. And so, with a knowing, playful smirk, he dips his lips forward towards the shell of your ear. Whispers to you. “So, how about I wear this and nothing else for you?”

You visibly shiver as his words wind their way into you, your smooth facade cracking apart. “Santiago. Fuck. Are you trying to kill me?”

With his erection continuing to throb against the seam of his pants, he really thinks it’s the other way around.

“No,” he promises. “Only trying to make you mine.”

Mine. Mine. Mine.

That’s all he’s wanted since he met you.

He devours your mouth in another hungry kiss, tongue shoving against yours, opening you up. Stubble raking over your skin.

And, before your delicious kiss knocks every other thought - and word and concept - right out of his head, he logs the fact he definitely owes Benny a favour.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He always wanted to be more than friends.

[milf-murdock]

Your writing is literally phenomenal - sincerely, someone who just binged your entire masterlist!! 💗 If you’re interested in this, I’d love to see dark!simon doting on reader when she’s finally pregnant 🤭 I’m sure he’d wait on her hand and foot, soothing and comforting her, but also being so smug because he’s literally a mastermind who’s been planning this for ages

Thank you so much for the kind words, love 🥹🥹 Comments like this mean the world to me and inspire me so much to keep writing 🖤

I fucking loooooooved this ask. When I tell you my brain was instantly just braining. However, I must be fully honest with you 😔 This is so fucking soft. Just. Wildly. Absurdly. Tooth-rottingly sweet. It turns out once dark!Simon actually gets her pregnant he just melts into the sweetest softie ever (shh don't tell anyone). Thinking about writing another part that's filthy smut with dark!Simon and his pregnant girl but I was just so excited about this fluff I wanted to share it lemme know if anyone would want to see that tho

Anyways, here's Simon helping her with morning sickness, Simon hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and Simon feeling them kick for the first time 🥺

Warnings: pregnancy, female reader, mentions of doctors offices, morning sickness, vomiting

Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 (NSFW) can be found here

Simon’s eyes blinked open as he registered your movements. The sound of your footsteps on the floor echoed through the room as you raced to the bathroom. His response was automatic as he rose out of bed, blinking the last dregs of sleep away as he followed your steps to find you kneeling on the cool tile in front of the toilet, dry heaving into the porcelain bowl. It seemed more often than not your mornings started this way. With no hesitation he knelt down on one knee beside you, pulling your hair up and away from your face into a loose pony tail held in his hand. His other hand rubbed soothing circled on your back, gently stroking up and down as he murmured soothing words. 

“I’m sorry, love. ’M sure this bit’s almost over.” 

As if on cue, you wretched once more into the bowl and Simon grimaced at his own poor timing. With a gasp you laid your head on your forearm against the toilet seat, eyes closed while you struggled to catch your breath, one hand rising up to flush the contents down the drain. Simon released your hair and rose to grab a cloth from the cupboard, running it under cool water and wringing it out. 

“Remember, doc said this was all completely normal. Good even, really.” Simon’s voice was nearly as comforting as the cool washcloth he pressed against the back of your neck. “Means the baby is developing and your body’s changing and whatnot.” You finally raised your head up, taking the cloth from Simon and running it over your face. 

“Yeah, still fucking sucks though,” you muttered before leaning back into Simon, his strong arms wrapping around you to pull you into him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as one hand snaked down to rest against your abdomen. 

“It’ll pass, babe.” Simon pressed another kiss to your temple. “Besides, you’re still stunning.” 

You raised your head off his chest, shooting him the most menacing glare you could muster. “Not in the mood for your sarcasm, Si,” you grumbled. 

Simon brushed a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Not sarcasm, babe. I mean it. You’re glowing.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the soft smile that tugged at the edges of your lips. “Whatever, you’re gettin’ soft.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Simon agreed, pressing another kiss to your cheek before rising and helping you off the floor. “Come on, I’ll go make us a tea.”

___________

It was a well known fact that Simon hated hospitals. And doctors. And, well, really any kind of medical setting. Simon shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to your exam bed. The sterile smell of medical suite was practically burning his nostrils. His leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace, one hand gripped tight on his knee and the other gripping yours in a similar hold. He looked around the room, taking in all the infographic posters explaining the various stages of pregnancy, health adverts, and more.

“Si.” Your gentle tone pulled Simon from his thoughts, his eyes drifting back to your face. “Relax,” you reminded him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here with you.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes drift from yours down to your abdomen. He swore you were beginning to show, just the barest hint of a swell to your belly. 

There was a knock at the door and then the friendly technician entered, introducing herself to you and Simon before placing a paper drape over your lap and having you lay back. You shifted your shirt up whilst she set up for the ultrasound, giving Simon an excited smile as you settled in.

“Oh that’s warm,” you commented as the tech squeezed a light gel onto your bare skin. 

“Yeah, we have a little warmer we keep it in, just something to help make the mum’s a bit more comfortable,” she commented as she started pressing the wand to your belly. 

Simon’s eyes flicked to the screen, the waves of black and grey indecipherable as the tech  moved around your stomach. 

“Ah, there we go. See? Right….here.” The nurse tapped to a black shape on the screen as she pressed the wand a little deeper into your skin. “There’s your baby.” She tapped a few buttons on her keyboard, taking a picture. “Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, but Simon couldn’t even get a word out. His own heart was racing so fast, his eyes staring at the screen, taking it all in. His baby. There were no words to adequately describe the pure joy, excitement, and absolute terror he was feeling. Y

You and Simon clung to each other, your joined hands serving as a lifeline for you both, tethering you to this moment. You and Simon each hold your breath, unsure what you’re waiting for. 

And then there’s a whoosh, and the sound of a steady heartbeat fills the room. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh my god, Si,” you whispered. “That’s their heartbeat.” 

Simon’s own eyes were misty as he took it all in. “Yeah, babe. That’s our baby.” He blinked the tears away, internally urging himself to keep it together. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “There they are.” 

______

Simon was upstairs tackling the crib that he had been so fucking sure he didn’t need the fucking instructions for, only to find out that the damn pieces weren’t locking into place the way they were supposed to. “Bloody hell,” he growled, tearing through the mess of cardboard and styrofoam to find where he had tossed aside that bloody manual. 

A shout from downstairs had him freezing in place, his blood running cold as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. 

“Simon! Come here! Quick!” You shouted from your place on the couch, urgency in your voice. 

Simon dropped the drill to the floor, racing down the hall and flying down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. His mind spiraled, thinking through doctor’s numbers, fastest route to the hospital, or should he call an ambulance? No, he was positive he could drive faster. He rounded the corner, eyes wide and fixed on you. 

“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” His questions rushed out like word vomit as he strode to your side. He dropped to one knee, a protective hand resting on your pronounced bump, eyes flitting from you to your stomach. 

“What?” You asked, brows furrowing in confusion at the panic-stricken man panting before you. “No, I’m fine Si, just…here…feel,” you commanded, grabbing his hand and moving it to the lower left side of your stomach. “Wait for it…” you muttered. Simon was still trying to calm his racing heart, trying to take in the fact that you seemed perfectly fine. In fact, if anything, you seemed slightly annoyed. 

“Darling, what—” 

“Shhh!” You snapped. “Wait for it.” 

And then Simon felt it. A little force pressing against his hand, a fleeting sensation that was over as soon as it started. 

Simon’s eyes widened. “Was that?” 

“Mmhmm,” you squealed with a smile. 

“They kicked,” Simon laughed, pure awe on his face. He pressed his hand a little harder against your swollen mound, moving his hand just slightly to the right. He lowered his face to your stomach. “Come on, love, let’s see that again.” As if on cue, he felt a swift kick to his palm. Your laugh mingled with Simon’s as the radiant joy overtook you both. 

“He likes your voice,” you commented, smiling down at your bump and placing your hand atop Simon’s. 

“Of course she does,” Simon teased back. You weren’t finding out the gender in advance, wanting to be surprised. You each had your own suspicions though. At the sound of his voice, another kick hit his palm, harder than both the previous ones, causing you to wince. “Oi,” Simon jokingly chided, giving a stern look to your bump. “Take it easy on your mum. She’s working hard to grow you nice and strong.” Another strong kick. 

“Looks like we have a future football star on our hands,” you commented was you rubbed a hand against your sore swollen side. 

“Maybe they’ll play for Man U.” Simon pressed a kiss to your bump, right where the last kick was before rising off the floor to sit next to you on the couch. His lips found yours, kissing you with a fierceness that took your breath away. “Thank you, love.” His voice was soft as he pulled back from the kiss. “For this. For all of it. This is the greatest gift.” 

[lemonlover1110]

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo NSFW Week 2023 Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Day 6: Rimming

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Oral Sex (f. Receiving), Rimming, Car Sex, Age Gap (Gojo almost 40, reader in 20s)

Summary: Satoru loves being intimate with his girlfriend. Problem is, he'll ruin each and every plan just to be with her.

❤︎ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❤︎

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Satoru, now?” You ask him between kisses. The way his lips feel on yours drive you wild, especially when he kisses you with such desperation. You just got in the car to go out, you have a very special dinner reservation. Tonight is the only night that you’re able to go out like this since your boyfriend’s daughter is staying with her mother. 

He doesn’t answer, instead his lips land on yours again and he deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip before entering your mouth. You never expected for him to have such a high sex drive, especially since he’s slightly older than you. The man is almost forty and he tries to fuck you every chance he gets. The honeymoon stage in your relationship is way past over, so it’s nice to see that he still wants you so badly, however it’s a little much sometimes. 

His tongue presses against yours, while his hands trail down your silk dress. His fingers reach the hem of your dress, and you feel his touch under your dress. His tongue rolls around yours as you feel his finger hook under your panty. When you pull away, a string of saliva connects your lips. You feel your face hot, matching the temperature of your body, “We have a reservation. We can do this after.”

“Need you so bad right now, baby. Need my dessert.” He says, and you’re trying your best to remain your composure. You won’t be able to go to this restaurant if you miss your reservation. It’s rare the nights that you have off, whether it’d be from work or from his kid. Maybe that’s why he’s trying to seize this opportunity. Neither of you are too tired, and he’s so fucking horny.

“Can’t ruin my makeup, Satoru.” You tell him, hoping that it’ll get him to stop. He keeps kissing you though, his fingers toying with your cunt over your panties. He looks so good, your lipstick all over his face and you can only imagine the mess that’s on your face right at this second.

“Let me eat you out, baby. Won’t make a mess, I promise.” He says, and you bite down on your lip. You’re not sure how he wants to do it, considering how uncomfortable it’d be in the front of the car. 

“It’s uncomfortable here, baby.” You respond, hoping that he’ll drop it. He’s gotten you riled up but you try to think of your reservation. He grabs your thighs, and he’s moving your legs over the console, spreading them apart. He’s licking his lips as he lifts up your dress.

“Just a quick taste, promise.” He says, dipping his head to kiss your thighs up to your panties. He pushes your panties to the side and begins to kiss your folds.

His tongue licks up your cunt, and he looks up at you with mischievous eyes. You’re thinking about your reservation, but his mouth begins to suck on your clit and your mind definitely forgets about any other worry. Your hand begins to run through his white hair while you begin to enjoy what’s happening. It’s his dessert but you enjoy it more than he does.

You swear you’re in heaven when he stops sucking on your clit, his tongue running through your folds. His thumb begins to play with your clit while his tongue teases your hole. You’re trying your best to not encourage him, and to not moan in the car since you’re in the driveway– You don’t want to risk the neighbors looking out and watching as your boyfriend eats you out.

“Fuck, Satoru–” You moan. His tongue enters your hole, his thumb playing with your clit. He swirls his tongue around, and his thumb begins to play with your clit. Oh it’s too much. He’s humming, showing you how much he’s enjoying this, and the vibrations that translate through his tongue are adding more to the pleasure.

You never thought that dating an older man would be this enjoyable. Satoru loves having his tongue on you at all times, giving you as much pleasure as he can give you. When you’re alone, you find yourself screaming his name from the top of your lungs.

You’re so close to finishing, and you want to make this fast. You’re so close, his name leaving your lips over and over again in a soft whisper. And then he stops. He takes his tongue out and stops playing with your clit. You whine, and you hear him chuckle,

“Thought you were in a rush to get to the restaurant.” And before you can tell him off, you feel his tongue back on your cunt, but it goes down to your other hole. His tongue is flat on your asshole and he’s moving back and forth. 

Of course he wants to do this now of all times. His thumb goes back to toying with your clit. His lips kiss your asshole a couple of times before he points his tongue and softly penetrates the hole, and you slap your hand over your mouth. 

Your orgasm is slowly taking over you as the tip of his tongue moves in and out of you. He finally takes it out and he focuses on licking your hole. He hears his name muffled as your thighs begin to come together as your orgasm slowly takes over you.

Your legs spasm as you finally reach your climax. His lips kiss your asshole a couple more times before his head appears again. There’s a smile on his face as you adjust yourself in your seat. He tries to lean in for a kiss but you put your hand up to stop him. 

“You just ate my ass, Satoru. Have some decorum.”

[milla-frenchy]

Thunder (SMBU part 4)

2k9 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tess Servopoulos Chapt summary: you’re threatened and rebel against Joel Warnings: 18+ mdni. Noncon/dubcon (captivity, threats), dark FF, threesome (FFM), oral (m/f), fisting, degradation, spanking, spitting, slapping, squirting, light rimming, piv, facials, angst, mentions of dvp, anal and gangbang Writer chose not to use all warnings. If you need to know before you read, DM me a/n: reader's girlfriend is described as “she/her” in italics Heed the warnings. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. This fic isn't for everyone, and that's ok. I don't condone any of this. Thank you @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for beta-ing and listening to me whine 😄💕🫶 The Prodigy - Thunder | playlist | ao3 | series masterlist

Main masterlist - Part 3

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You woke up in the middle of the night, hearing moans. Thinking Joel, Tommy or one of the guards was with her. You went to the bathroom to get a glass of water but froze when you heard a moan you didn't recognize. Feminine. Your throat tightened. No other women from the camp had come to your house since you arrived. You moved closer to the half-open bedroom door. The light of the moon allowed you to discern their bodies. Her face was between a woman’s thighs and this woman was holding her head against her pussy. Her back was arched with pleasure. 

Before you had time to figure out what to do, a hand covered your mouth to stop you from screaming in surprise. Joel. You didn't even hear him come up the stairs. He nodded towards your bedroom and closed the door behind you two once you entered. Your heart was beating way too fast, because of…jealousy? Fuck.

“Who is she?” you managed to ask, trying to keep your feelings to yourself.

“Her name’s Tess. She’s not so much into dicks. She loves cunts. And she loves your girlfriend’s cunt,” he added, “sorry baby, you should get used to it. She’ll fuck you too.”

You tried to remain impassive again. Even if he gave you too much information. Much more than you wanted to hear and could handle.

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“She runs another camp for me. She's like Tommy, let's say. And she loves pussy as much as he does”, he smirked.

You felt a spike sink into your heart.

“Looks like someone’s jealous” he chuckled, before saying “come suck my dick, it’ll change your mind.”

You knelt down and took his cock in your mouth, trying to forget. But even when he shot his cum all over your face, you couldn't think of anything else.

The next day, you tried to behave as usual with her. It wasn’t a normal world, nor a normal life. You were just bodies available to raiders. You had just never imagined that women could be raiders, too. 

So when she placed her hand on yours in the kitchen, you tried not to tense up. Not to remove yours. You knew that you were unfair in your feelings, but you had the impression that the only thing that brought sweetness in your life no longer belonged to you.

A guard came to take you to the fuckhouse, as you called it now. You didn't expect to see Joel and Tess there.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered. You didn't move, your eyes fixed on Tess.

“The fuck are you waiting for?  Get undressed.”

“I can’t…I can’t fuck her.”

And for the first time, she spoke to you, but you wished she hadn't when you heard her response.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be in charge. I'm gonna fuck you, you'll just have to take it. See if you’re worth it.”

They both were looking at you like you were a piece of meat, and you resigned yourself to undress.

“Come on baby. A mouth is a mouth, right?” he said. At that moment, you hated him.

You lay down on your back and she came to settle between your thighs. Your body and mind were closed, and you were mechanically waiting for her to do what she wanted. Joel was leaning against the window sill. That guy had immense self control. You thought about it every time he watched you being fucked by his men, usually coming last to rail you and mix his cum with the spend of those who’d used you before him.

Tess’s tongue along your folds made you forget about Joel. You didn't want to cum. You didn't want to give her that part of you. But her tongue was soft and precise, she knew exactly where to slide, where to linger. When she added a finger and started sucking your clit, you almost forgot your convictions. Two fingers slid into your now sopping pussy, fucking you gently. She had already found the right spot and you were struggling to hold back your moans. Her tongue swirled delicately on your clit, sometimes giving way to her lips which came to suck it. Within minutes, you were drooling on the bed. When she added a third finger, you muttered a “fuck…” and heard Joel chuckle. You were so focused on your sensations that you didn't even react to him, finally accepting the pleasure your body felt building. Your lower abdomen was hotter than ever.

“Make that slut squirt,” Joel said. You heard her laugh against your pussy. A laugh that meant “of course she’s going to squirt.” She showed such confidence. You saw her as a female version of Joel, and you might have feared her almost more than him.

She had barely started licking your clit again when you felt like you were losing all control over your body, and you squirted for the first time in your life, feeling like you were drowning the mattress. Your cheeks were hot, ashamed of having given her more than anyone else.

Tess didn't stop her movements and pushed a fourth finger into your pussy.

“Wait, what…what are you doing?”

“Oh, you’re gonna give me more than that, baby.”

You saw Joel take off his clothes and position himself behind her, spanking her to make her put her ass up.

When he was sliding his cock into her pussy, he didn't take his eyes off you. She raised her face for a few seconds and stopped licking your clit, getting used to Joel's cock. You saw her face, her eyes closed in pleasure. Joel’s gaze was still fixed on you. It was the first time you saw him from that angle, buried in a pussy. His broad shoulders, his biceps, all his muscles tightened. 

Instantly, she followed the same rhythm with her fingers in your pussy as his dick in hers. ​

“I thought you weren’t into dicks?” you dared to ask. Joel froze inside her to let her respond, hands on her hips. You knew he was buried deep inside her. You knew he loved that, these moments where he displayed his dominance by being buried in a cunt, the woman full of his cock. 

She smiled when he stopped, fully aware of what he was doing, too.

“Not so much. But sometimes I like to get fucked, and well…he’s the boss, right? By the way, your roommate has a really nice pussy. And she knows how to eat one, too.”

She fucking winked at you just before Joel started fucking her again, slowly. He kept looking at you, and you hated the smug look on their faces, the way they didn't care about you or your feelings.

When she rested her lips against your clit, her moans made you vibrate and a second orgasm swept through you, without you feeling it coming. You felt physically exhausted. Emptied. But she still didn't stop, and Joel fucked her gently so as not to hinder her movements. You felt spread apart like never before, and she pushed four of her fingers deeper. You couldn't believe it when you squirted again. 

“Fuck, did you see that, Joel?” she chuckled. “The bitch is wrecked.”

She spat on your pussy even though the sounds of her four digits sliding inside you left no doubt that you were wet. Soaked. And she added her thumb to the other fingers, squeezing them together as closely as possible, to let you get used to it. Then moving deeper.

“What are you doing? Stop it, please, you’re gonna hurt me. Please…”

But she didn't stop, and even added “told you, you’re gonna take it.”

You realized finally what she was talking about. And you thought that you could never take her whole hand.

“Don’t worry, you’ll take it”, Joel said. “We fucked your cunt with two dicks, multiple times. If you had been a whore, you’d have earned a lot of money with that pussy, baby.” He was reveling in the situation, you could see it in his eyes.

She spat again, twice. On your pussy and on her hand. Continuing to push. You felt your folds spread apart painfully, until the knuckle of her outstretched hand bumped against your pussy. She leaned down, sucking on your clit, then swirling the tip of her tongue over it. While continuing to lightly push her hand in you.

“Give her another one, baby. Come on her hand. Be a good girl, give it to her. And give it to me. Come on, baby.”

His praise was turning you on. You thought about all those times they fucked you with two cocks. Joel and Tommy's dicks opening you up, and your pussy accepting them. You came again, your moans almost becoming screams. And she pushed more, making your pussy give way. You felt torn apart. She didn't stop until her hand was down to her wrist. “Oh fuck, fuck!” you shouted. 

You felt full. Fuller than with two cocks in your pussy. And you hoped none of the men would think about fisting you, because her slender hand was already spreading you apart more than you thought was possible.

Although you were getting used to it and the sensation was now giving you way too much pleasure for your liking.

You started to moan again, and her hand began sliding in more easily. 

“Shit that’s hot”, growled Joel. “I’m gonna fuck her now. Not sure I’ll feel something though”. Your cheeks heated at his degrading words.

She withdrew her hand gently and brought it back to Joel's mouth while he was still buried inside her. He licked her fingers as he was looking at you.

“Get on all fours”, he told you.

You got on your hands and knees and she laid down in front of you, her pussy level with your face. Joel spanked you, sensing your reluctance. “Better make her come,” he said, menacingly. He pressed down on your head to put your face against her pussy. You submitted, ass in the air. He spread your ass cheeks with his hands and licked you, from your pussy to your ass. When he took his cock in his hand to thrust into you, hands clinging to your hips, your tongue was buried in her pussy. Her hands held your face against her.

“Fuck, should have told Tommy to join us to feel something. Seems like the whole camp banged you.” You held back your tears when you heard him. Thinking about what your life had become since he’d captured you. Even though you knew it could have been worse. It can always be worse, right? But that time, his words hit you right in the heart. He wanted to hurt you, and you didn't know why. Was he jealous of your relationship with her?

He pulled out, and tugged on your legs so you lay down. He placed all his weight on you, crashing you under his weight without mercy, leaving only his legs on the bed against your tightened thighs. He pressed your face against her pussy again, growling in your ear as he thrusted.

“Spread wider”, he told Tess. And he stuck his fingers in her pussy while you licked her clit. She moaned, louder and louder.

“Come for us, baby”, he told her. He spoke in a softer tone when he addressed her. And once again your heart was pricked. He was trying to hurt you.

When she came, she held your face against her, and her pussy jerked against Joel's fingers.

“On your knees, both of you. Open up, tongues out.”

You knelt as he physically dominated both of you, jerking his cock with his hand until he came all over your tongues.

You came home, and when you entered her bedroom, her things were gone. You ran down the stairs wanting to go back to the fuckhouse, but Joel was already coming.

“Inside”, he ordered you, grabbing your elbow.

“Where is she?”

“She’s moving to Tess’s camp. Tonight.” 

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe he was acting like this, when he had always been, if not affectionate, at least never cruel.

“Why are you doing this? You think it’s easy for us here? Or you don’t even care for a fucking second?”

“Tess needs a new toy. I don't think your girlfriend is upset about going there, anyway.”

And you felt something switch inside you. You couldn't let him and Tess take her away from you. You couldn't imagine living here anymore, without her. Without her arms and lips to warm your body and soul at night. A cold anger gripped you, and you let it possess your entire mind.

“If it’s her wish to leave with Tess, fine. But if you force her...I swear to God I’ll turn this place to ashes and when you come to this house, you’ll find me dead in her bed. As a reminder that you lost everything because of your actions."

You saw his face tighten in surprise, and his breath stopped for a moment.

“You’re just a bitch. And you know where those who misbehave end up.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really. ‘Cos you love my cunt too much to put me in the shithouse. There aren't many women here. In this house, it’ll be just me, if you make her leave. I saw two women the day I arrived. There are two women in the shithouse. So five women. Maybe a couple more that had kids and I don’t know them. What are you gonna do when you have only three women? two women? zero? Fuck your guards? Oh yeah, well… a mouth is a mouth right? So are holes.”

He slapped you. Stronger than he had ever done the other times, where it was more like a dominance sex game than anything else. You brought your hand to your hot cheek, and you couldn't help but smirk.

“Finally”, you said. “Finally, Joel the cold-blooded raider, is losing his cool.”

A second slap hit you, even harder than the first one, proving you were right. He called one of his guards through the window to watch over you, and left.

She didn't leave the camp. That evening, she returned to your house. You saw her coming back, when you were in the warehouse where he had locked you. 

You knew your rebellion would have consequences. You didn't wait long to find out which one exactly. When a machete hit the wooden table, you were relieved that Joel only cut your little finger off.

After cauterizing your wound, he left you there until the next day. 

When he picked you up and brought you to the fuckhouse, your throat tightened. Your little finger wouldn’t be the only punishment. She was there, sitting on a chair. A guard had a gun pointed at her head, and several of his men were there.

“Fuck her”, Joel told his men pointing at you. “You don’t have to make her cum. If she does, good for her, but it’s not your problem today. Don't fuck her ass. I want at least one hole still tight for me tonight.”

He turned to you “If you misbehave, you'll regret not having let her go with Tess.” He nodded to the armed guard.

Finally, he told her “enjoy watching her getting fucked hard. This is the consequence of what she did for you.”

When you got home, the sun had set. You went to lie down on your bed and she held you close, healing your wounds as she held you against her. More psychological than physical. Even though they were usually the worst.

“I’m so sorry”, she said. 

“Don’t. I regret nothing.”

She kissed your forehead and said “thank you. For everything.” She paused before adding “my name is Victoria. I've never told my real name to anyone here. I didn't want them to have that part of me. I don’t care if they know it now. You’re the first one to know, it’s all that matters. You can call me Vic.”

“Vic” you repeated. “You’re mine, Vic. And I’m yours”, you told her, caressing her cheek with your bandaged hand and smiling gently at her. You kissed, and you already knew that your heart was healing.

She held you against her for a few minutes, before saying “Joel is gonna come tonight.”

“I know. I will be ok.”

You knew it deep down. Joel knew that you’d be obedient again. You just wanted him not to take her away from you. He could have punished you much harsher, but you were apparently right in your reasoning. Women were a rare resource, as Tommy had told you the first day. Joel needed his soldiers to be calm and trustable. As long as they would have enough food and cunts to fuck, everything would be fine.

When he entered your bedroom, he gestured for her to go to hers.

As he unzipped his jeans and approached the bed, he warned you, “If you do something like that again, not even your pussy will save you.”

You nodded.

He made sure to make you cum, before and while fucking your ass.

****

“I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything” F. Scott Fitzgerald

****

Part 5

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