XxBethChurchxX @bethchurch - Tumblr Blog

Save a horse Ride a cowboy- Carter Dutton

Summary: She saw him walk into class for the first time with a hat on, a button up flannel and cow boy boots with a matching belt buckle and she knew she was going to do whatever she could to make sure she rode him with that hat on top of her pretty little head. But the poor thing was so afraid of the constant rejection that he thought she was in his house on his bed asking him to have sex with her as a ruse to humiliate him even more than they do at school. Little did he know she was so desperate she would go to extreme measures just to have him.

warnings: cursing, ⋆˙⟡ warnings sex 18+, p in v, riding, possessive and jealous, dirty talk, pussy eating, implications of a unprotected sex

redmoononvenus222

𝐒𝐢𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓, 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 18+

Dinner in the Great Hall is as usual; the boys are cracking all kinds of jokes and snickering, whereas the girls keep up with the latest gossip roaming the corridors. Every so often, the conversation between the girls and the boys intertwines.

“Oi, ever wonder if Trelawney keeps those jam jar frames on her face while visiting down under?”

Lorenzo Berkshire speaks lowly to the lot with a smirk on his face— his elbows resting on top of the wooden table. A few snickers could be heard from Mattheo and Blaise— whereas the girls looked at Enzo with pure horror and disgust. Pansy’s fork dropped on the ceramic plate beneath her with a sharp clutter, and Daphne’s face scrunching up with repulsion.

“Don’t be so lewd, Berkshire.”

You spoke coolly with a scoff as you shook your head at his comment. This just made Enzo’s smirk widen— he was the prince of shocking the lot with his comments.

“Basta, Berkshire.” (Enough, Berkshire.)

Theodore Nott intercepted the conversation lowly as he cut a piece of roast with his silverware. Lorenzo just smirked as the conversation diverted to an entirely different and unrelated topic.

As dinner concluded, you were first to stalk off and out of the Great Hall with unwavering poise as the girls followed behind you, leaving the boys at the table as the rest of the hall filed out and headed to their common rooms.

“And off she goes…dazzling as always. Wouldn’t you agree, Nott?

Mattheo spoke up abruptly as he watched you leaving the Hall with predatory eyes. Theodore let out a scoff. The tension between you and Theodore was absolute— no one understood why you two couldn’t get along, though the lot always suspected a hint of…sexual tension between you two, even if it wasn’t spoken of as fact— it was definitely obvious.

“Vaffanculo.” (Go fuck yourself.)

Theodore retorted sharply— Mattheo, Lorenzo, and Blaise all shared amused glances.

“Touchy, touchy.”

Blaise purred out with a grin that flashed his teeth in the golden light of the Great Hall.

The corridors were bustling with students who exited the Great Hall. You, Pansy, and Daphne walked in the direction of the dungeons with an unwavering grace.

In the dim Slytherin common room, the boys sat in their usual claimed seats; Blaise on the leather sofa between Pansy and Mattheo. Lorenzo, sitting in a secluded corner of the room with a book in hand—the words on the pages not being absorbed —was solemnly there for the ‘show’. And Daphne off with her sister Astoria.

Theodore sat at a study table beside the window as he completed an essay for Charms class— your notes beside the parchment he worked on. It wasn’t abnormal for him, or anyone else for that matter, to borrow your notes. You excelled highly in your studies, and always let your peers use your notes for their benefit. A couple of minutes of utter silence followed, but was suddenly broken when you descended from the girls’ dormitories and into the common room.

You gracefully made your way towards Theodore—your steps carefully, and poise, as usual.

“I assume you haven't completed your essay, Nott?”

You spoke calmly as you stood beside him, your eyes watching as his hands gripped the self-inking quill he used to take precise notes. His hand stilled for a moment— his large and strong grip on the quill tightening a fraction.

“Obviously.”

He spoke in a low, husky tone. His Italian accent hits you with a jolt of heat.

“I didn’t ask for your attitude. Remember, those are my notes, which I don’t have to lend to you.”

You spoke lowly with a scoff, as you then turned on your heel and made your way over towards the staircase.

“I expect them back tonight, Nott.”

You spoke over your shoulder with finality as you then ascended the steps.

“Stronza” (bitch)

Theodore muttered under his breath, his eyes kept firmly on his parchment as he continued his essay. His fingers gripped tightly around the quill, and his knuckles were white from the grip.

“Asshole.”

You muttered under your own breath as you ascended the steps. As you reached your empty dormitory, you changed into a simple, muted olive-green silk short nightgown—with a matching sheer robe as a cover-up. You tied your hair up, preparing for bed, and then began massaging your signature scented body oil onto your smooth arms and legs.

As you worked through the muscles of your calf, a low, almost hesitant knock was heard from the oak-wood door.

“You decent?”

The familiar Italian accent was even deeper as it carried through the wood. You stood up gracefully and made your way towards the door.

There he stood— Theodore Nott. His chocolate colored hair rumpled over his forehead as his eyes sized you up and down, your notes in hand.

“You’re getting drool on my notes, Nott.”

You spoke with a small knowing smirk as he snapped back to reality and rolled his beautiful blue irises with a scoff. He then held out your notes towards you.

“Take them before I change my mind and use them for the upcoming exam.”

He spoke, trying to ease the tension in the air. Theodore watched as your soft, delicate hand— or so he’s imagined countless times— came to take the small pile of elegantly scripted notes.

“You can leave now.”

You spoke casually as you took a singular step back inside your dormitory. The only light comes from a singular candle beside your four-poster bed. The silk Slytherin-colored sheets and the curtains that hung over the mattress, tied back with a velvet black bow on either side.

“Are you listening? Nott?”

Your voice, which came out naturally soft and cool, made Theodore take a step forward into your dormitory. He nodded slowly as his eyes roamed your body up and down— his head tilting ever so slightly. The look in his eyes makes the heat between your thighs grow hotter.

“You always wear something like that for bed, hm?”

He asked lowly, his tone dark and filled with noticeable desire. He took an uninvited step into your dormitory, the door behind him shutting as if it felt the tension in the room fill.

“Theodore. You’re being completely unethical.”

You spoke softly as you took another step back. He knew exactly what he was doing to you— every look he gave you was more and more revealing of his intentions.

“Forse lo sono.” (Maybe I am.)

He responded with a low rumble of a chuckle that came deeply from his chest. His hand gently came up to take your chin— his touch warm and soft as his fingers caressed your jawline.

“Nott…you’re touching me.”

You spoke under your breath as your body involuntarily began to give into his touch. He hummed out deeply as his eyes devoured your lips, followed by his hand that roamed lower— wrapping around your throat. His thumb pressing ever so slightly against your pulse point—now he definitely had a clear idea of how much you anticipated this touch.

“This could be utterly disastrous…”

You murmured as you watched his eyes roam down to your silk-covered breasts— your peaks pebbling under his gaze.

“disastrosa…”

He repeated your words under his breath in his native language. His grip on your throat was losing its hold as it began to trail lower— his finger tips running over your collar bones.

“Your advances are abysmal, Nott.”

You spoke breathlessly as your head tilted to the side— allowing him better access to your naked neck. In that very moment, his lips found their way against the cervical region of your neck.

“Is that so?”

He spoke softly against your warm and pulsing skin as he kissed gently — his fingers working their way to drop the sheer robe from off your shoulders and pooling to the ground around your feet. You hummed quietly in agreement— the clean and neatly organized notes that were in your hand fluttering to the wooden floors of your dormitory and scattering around both of you. Your hands are now free of anything grounding you from making any rational decisions, and now, you are pulling him closer by his soft curls.

“Nott…”

Your words were hitched and broken as he nipped slightly against your sensitive skin— causing a soft hiss to escape between your teeth.

“Sì, Principessa. Continua a parlare.” (Yes, princess. Keep talking.)

He spoke against you as a low rumble escaped him. His unfamiliar words make your body grow hotter, and your knees feel weak. The back of your knees hit the edge of the silk-covered mattress.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Nott.”

Your words came out in a soft moan as he slowly and gently leaned you back against your mattress.

“Mmm…”

He hummed lowly as one hand of his ran up your smooth and sleek leg— pulling it up onto the bed as the other massaged your left breast through the silk of your nightgown. Your other leg followed the first onto the bed as Theodore settled his body over and between your hips. His erection presses firmly against your now sopping core.

“Sei così bella.” (You are beautiful.)

Theodore’s fingers moved from your breast to the thin strap of your nightgown— pulling the strap lower to expose your shoulder before doing the same to the opposite side. Your hands released the grasp from his curls as they gently brought his face higher from your neck to your lips.

“You’re mental…absolutely…and utterly mental.”

You breathed out as you pulled his lips onto yours—the room filled with the sound of your lips perfectly fitting against his. The kiss was nothing but filthy— sloppy, rough, and with pent-up starvation. A low groan from him vibrated against your lips as he pressed harsher against you.

Theodore arose from the mattress— his lips still attached to yours as his fingers fumbled over the buttons of his uniform. Theodore groaned in frustration as one of the stray buttons refused to come undone. But you were just as eager as he himself— your hands moved from his face down to the fly front of his shirt, hooking your fingers on the half-button tailored shirt. The four remaining perfectly fitted buttons were now scattered around the room— flying only Merlin knows where.

This action of yours only made the desire in Theodore’s eyes grow stronger. His dilated pupils now swallow his blue irises. He pulled away from the kiss momentarily as he looked down at you— the string of saliva from the kiss was the only thing keeping you two connected. He slipped the remains of the white fabric from his shoulders—leaving his upper body completely bare. As his hands traveled down to work on his belt, your hand halted this action without hesitation.

“Is this okay?”

He asked in a low whisper as he looked down at you. And judging by the way you looked up at him, it was more than okay. You looked up at him through your eyelashes with an innocent nod.

“More than.”

You whispered as you propped yourself up and knelt before him at the edge of the bed. You gently moved his hand from where they planted over his belt buckle, your movements slow as you lowered your head before his clothed erection. You leaned forward— your eyes looking up at his doe-like and through your eyelashes. Your lips pressed softly against his lower abdomen before you kissed lower.

Your lips were now met with the cold metal of his belt buckle, your teeth grazing against the leather of his belt as you bit it undone.

“Cazzo” (fuck)

Theodore groaned lowly as he watched from above you. With ease, the leather slipped from the buckle, and then you pulled it through the loops of his trousers. Your fingers gently pulling the button open— his black trousers now slipping down, leaving him in his fitted boxer shorts that made his erection more pronounced before you.

You feel your mouth instantly water at the sight— your lips kissing his clothed erection. From above, you heard all sorts of whimpers and hisses from Theodore, his body tensing up from the soft and delicate pressure of your lips.

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxer shorts— pulling them down slowly—the sight and sound of him springing out and hitting the spot where his navel laid was enough to make your eyes roll back. Your tongue tracing a long lick along his vein-covered pink shaft— Theodore let out a low grumble that came deep from his chest, his hand coming up to hold himself against one of the posts of your bed frame.

“Sì, sì. Proprio così.” (Yes, yes. Like that.)

The sounds of his breathless praise gave you more confidence as you flicked your tongue against his frenulum— this action caused Theodore’s knees to buckle. After a few teasing licks, you finally took him deeply into your mouth—the taste uniquely him— clean, salty, and absolutely delicious.

You quickened your pace— your throat taking him deeper as his free hand came to tangle itself into your tied back hair— not to guide nor push deeper, but more so, to ground himself, to remind him that this was real. That you were real.

“Dio mio…” (my God)

“You’re perfect.”

“You take me so fucking deep…so fucking well…”

His words jumbled together as your nose pressed against his abdomen. Your mouth was a wet and sopping mess as your hand came up to massage his lonely testicles. His groans and words grew louder as his hips involuntarily buckled forward, going deeper and deeper.

“Cristo…Ci sono quasi…” (Christ…I’m almost there)

Theodore’s hands came to brace himself on your shoulders as a sharp intake of breath entered his lungs— his warm and bitter— but oh so delicious taste filled your mouth. You didn’t need to be told twice- or even once to drink him up.

“Perfect…you’re perfect…”

He panted out softly as his knees dropped to the edge of the bed and his hands cradled your face— his eyes seeing the water that had formed in your eyes.

“Please…please let me have you…”

He pleaded with a pained whisper— your breathing ragged as you opened your mouth to speak, when suddenly his lips pressed harshly against yours. His hands were now in your hair, as he leaned you back against the cool silk-covered mattress.

“bellissima” (beautiful)

His words were a soft murmur against your lips as your hands reached between your bodies to pump his size back to life, which didn’t need much help.

“Have me. Have all of me, Theodore.”

You whispered as you graciously widened your thighs— an invitation that made Theodore’s eyes roll back with triumph. He looked down at you as if you were the best gift he had ever received— if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under.

Your hand that pumped him back to life softly came up to cup his cheek— his sensitive throbbing tip grazing over the damp thin fabric of your lace panties. His breathing hitched with every soft and electric graze.

“Please…”

He panted out— his eyes squeezed tight as his grasp in your hair tightened in an euphoric and deliciously painful hold.

You, at a complete loss for words, nodded your head gently. Your hands gently and slowly holding his shoulders. When his eyes opened and were met with your gentle nods, he moved one of his hands from your hair to pull the damp lace aside. Before pushing in, he made sure to pull your nightgown up— revealing your lower body. His eyes practically devouring the way you looked beneath him.

He looked down between your bodies— where his tip practically vibrated with need and your core clenching, trying to receive pleasure from anything and nothing in this excruciatingly empty moment. A choke— almost sob escaped Theodore as he pressed himself against you, not yet burrowing into you but savoring the moment.

“Theo…”

You spoke breathlessly as you felt the pressure of his thickness push into your tightness— a gasp escaped your lips as a wince escaped his. His fingers curling into your hair, whereas the other hand fisted into the silk fabric that clung to your upper body.

His movements start slow and soft— your back arching from up the mattress beneath you.

“Cazzo…cazzo…”

He panted out as he fought back the urge to take you completely and utterly. After a second of adjusting to the sudden fullness inside of you, his pace began to quicken—the room filled by the sounds of your meeting, and filthy words.

“Così stretto” (so tight)

His voice was a mix between a growl and whimpers that were nothing but music to your ears. Your hands holding onto his shoulders for stability as your legs wrapped around his waist— pulling him deeper, and deeper.

Your climax was approaching— you could feel it by the way your stomach was now churning, the soles of your feet burning with heat as his hips snapping forward with every punishing thrust. A soundless moan tore from your vocal cords as your nails dug into the soft skin of his broad shoulders.

A hiss escaped his teeth as the mix of pain and pleasure from your nails made his body shiver completely— but what was completely undoing for Theodore was the feeling of the way your core tightened around him like a vice— milking every last drop of him inside of your warm, wet, and spongy walls.

“Have I succeeded in my advances?”

He spoke softly after minutes of shared ragged breaths, his broad and husky Italian accent that could easily push you over another climax pulled you from a dazed trance like state as he looked up at you with those dazzling blue eyes— a faint smug smirk on his lips.

“You’re a real piece of art, Theodore. Truly.”

You responded lowly, with a faint grin, that you refused—but ultimately gave him, as he then pressed a gentle kiss upon your slick forehead.

Hello my little lambs, I sincerely apologize for the late story— but hey, better late than never. I do hope you enjoy my very first smut post, honestly I was putting this off for sometime and proofreading it countless of times for you all. Thus, I do want to thank you all so much for the love on my last story! I truly appreciate it! I hope you all have the most fantastic rest of your week, and if you have any suggestions, and or themes (such as characters, tropes, ect.) I’d be more than happy to deliver.

With much love,

Xoxo- redmoononvenus

gigichbx

how about percy and reader getting caught by the others while fucking on the argo? 👀

Caught (Oh gods)

Pairing!: Percy Jackson x F!reader TW: Explicit Sexual Content/ Degradation/ Overstimulation / Public Indecency / Humiliation (accidental) A/N: I mean ofc it had to be him.

The air in the cramped cabin was thick enough to choke on, heavy with the scent of salt air, sweat, and the unmistakable, musk-heavy tang of a long, desperate session of sex.

On the narrow bunk, the only sound was the rhythmic, wet slap of skin meeting skin and the jagged, hitching breaths of two people completely lost in a primal rhythm.

Percy had you pinned against the mattress, his hands locked like iron shackles under your thighs to hold you wide for him.

His knuckles were white, his biceps bulging with the effort of keeping his massive frame steady as he worked you. Every thrust was deep and deliberate, a punishingly slow grind that forced you to arch your back until your spine nearly snapped. He was a force of nature, all hard muscle and tan skin, his hair a wild mess that tickled your forehead every time he leaned down to growl into your ear.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that made your bones ache. "Stretching for me. Taking every fucking inch like you were made for it."

He wasn't being gentle; the soft-spoken hero was gone, replaced by something ancient and hungry. He shifted his grip, one hand moving from your leg to your hair, winding the strands around his fist and tugging your head back to expose your throat.

diorchids

1. YOU’RE WELCOME.

✶ warnings › bullying, pity sex, degradation, dubcon-ish ✶

✶ pairing › lukecastellan x loser!reader ✶

✶ a/n › starting k-tober off light! he’s kinda mean in this!!! also, i’ve never written for this concept before, be kinddd (｡﹏｡") ✶

kinktober masterlist.

it’s truly a pity, the way you are.

at camp, it'd be better for you to just stay hidden. the way you dressed, your hair, how you hadn’t even had your first kiss. even with all the summers you’d come back to camp, nobody wanted to be caught dead with you.

“it’s just unfortunate,” you hear a high voice say through the wooden door. you’d been sitting on your bunk all day after making a fool of yourself down at the lake. “look at the girl! she can barely come out of her cabin without breaking down and sobbing. what a shame. luke?” she asks him, who you didn’t know was there.

he was kind, though. the kinda boy who you’d feel comfortable alone in an elevator with. he waved at you once, like, two summers ago. he also asked if you knew where he could get a blunt. so charming, that one!

“no, yeah… she’s—she’s a fuckin’ freak…” his mouth dried up. you weren’t that bad.

the rotten wooden floors creaked underneath your feet as you stood and softly walked toward the door, making sure neither of them heard you. the girl talking to luke shushed him, who wasn’t speaking at all, and leaned closer to the door, maybe pushing her ear up against it. “i think the bitch is listening right now!” and an obnoxious giggle followed right after. “hey, bitch, we can hear you!” she pounded her fists against the door before you stumbled back, tripping on a boot behind you.

you land flat on your ass. it throbs when you stand and run to the part of the cabin furthest from the door, barely holding back tears. “luke, i’m telling you, she’s nothing. quite literally nothing.” you can just barely make out her voice. footsteps trail away from your door, you stay glued to the wall.

and for days you sobbed at the thought of luke hating you. the one person you take a liking to happens to hate you. he probably likes whoever was with him on the other side of the door. they probably bond over their shared hatred for you. you hadn’t even come out of your cabin in fear of seeing luke after what happened! he’d know you as the girl who bust her ass after eavesdropping on a conversation with his girlfriend. or whoever that was. point still stands, he hates you.

didn’t take away from the fact you liked him a lot. his biceps, calves, thighs. anything about him, you liked. you slipped your fingers between your slick folds, lying flat on your bunk while everyone else laughed and socialized down at the bonfire by the lake. your fingers ran over your puffy clit, pushing on it, making your hips buck up. luke would push your hands out of the way and whisper, “l’me do it,” and his fingers would circle your sopping hole, threatening to push inside if you promised to be quiet. to not let anyone know what you two were doing. not because he was ashamed, because he wanted you to himself.

or maybe he’d stretch his arm out to your lips, a blunt held between his index and middle finger, “c’mon,” he’d say. “you’ll feel better, baby.”

that was romantic. him wanting you.

you screwed your eyes shut to the thought of that beautiful image. maybe he’d rut his cock against your ass at night after sneaking into your cabin. his fingers dig into your fleshy thighs as he gets himself off, inhaling your scent and moaning in your ear, letting you know you’re enough for him. “so beautiful. all i need… this right here,” voice all muffled from his face digging into your neck. “perfect.”

then you woke up.

you finally worked up the courage to do something about this. you ached for him to be as close as you imagined. you found him lingering by the lake, lighting an expertly-rolled blunt with a matchstick. your eyes run over his form, biceps toned and all perfect right in front of you. “you need somethin’?” a plume of smoke escaped through his teeth as he spoke. “no—no, i wa—i needed a rock,” your fingers tangled behind your back as you looked at anything but him.

“you needed a rock?” a tinge of disbelief in his voice. he furrowed his eyebrows at you before bursting into laughter. a soft smile takes over your face as it warms with embarrassment. he found you funny. he wasn’t laughing with you, but you didn’t think he was fully laughing at you.

and so, you both sat and spoke for hours down at that lake. he made dumb jokes to you in an attempt to open you up, to get you to say something. you went back and forth asking each other questions about college and your lives outside of camp. his stories of parties and sex made you cringe but not for him, but for you.

he gave you the floor to talk about anything. you told him about school and how you’d done quite well this past year, but he wasn’t phased. “anything but that shit. no parties? drinking? have you even had sex? huh?” he expected you to admit it was all a joke and for you to share stories that were better left unsaid. nothing. did he not know? you were sure he hated you and knew about your isolationist tendencies, the same ones that barred you from forming any meaningful relationships in and outside of camp.

he took a drag from the blunt and threw his head back, exhaling. “no parties, drinking, weed, or sex?” he really stressed that last word, pulling his head back up and staring at you. waiting. you shook your head with your lips pressed into a line as his teeth dug into his bottom lip, examining your form. knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, foot tapping the small pebbles settled underneath your ass.

“i should go.”

weeks go by and you pass glances at one another from time to time. he lingers at the lake while you stay back, lying on your bunk. thinking.

there’s a slight knock at the front door of your cabin, like it’s meant to be quiet. to not draw attention. your other mates are out because they’d rather let you sulk in peace. whoever’s outside is growing impatient because they knock again, this time a little more aggressive. “coming! sorry!” you awkwardly shuffle to the door before swinging it open, only to be met with the face of luke. you’re unable to get a word out, your feet stay planted as you stare up at him.

“gonna let me in or just look all stupid?” he took a step closer, his arm grazing your chest. you let him in and asked him why he’d even set foot in your cabin. you told him you thought he didn’t want to be seen with you, he didn’t confirm or deny that. “you’re in college and you haven’t fucked, i wanted to help you. it’s honestly fuckin’ sad.”

your nails dig into your arm. “help me?”

“help you, yeah, help,” fingers running through his hair, “like i just said,” he exhales. “i’ll fuck you.”

your breath gets caught in your throat when he says it like that. you try your best to get him to leave by explaining you’ll live without sex, and how it can actually benefit some people to be left alone, and how you’re fine. you’re lying, obviously, you need it.

both of his hands are holding your waist as he kisses your neck and suckles at it, they massage underneath your stomach and hips as he groans deeply in your ear. “poor girl,” he whispers as he tugs at your loose shorts. “lie down f’me.”

“don’t get used to this, alright? i’m only doing it ‘cause you’ve been so pathetic about it.”

you lie back with your thin, cotton underwear barely covering your wet cunt that throbs at the sight of the man before you. his thumb rests on your chubby clit and rubs circles on it with his other hand holding onto your thigh. “first time ever doin’ this and you’re already so ready, right? nobody’s touched you here at all, huh?” he teases as your back arches off of the bed involuntarily. “so fucking sad,” you rubbed your cunt onto his thumb now, it’s all slick through your underwear.

he can tell you’re getting desperate, so he peels your underwear off and pulls you closer to him. cock’s all hard and sensitive, just having to rub against the fabric of his boxers while he ruins you. oh, how badly he wants to cum. he smirks to himself at the thought of cumming in a virgin, all tight and warm. “pretty pussy hasn’t been touched at all… you’re so lucky i’m here,” he leans into your cunt, the warmth of his face near it makes you sigh softly. “m’so lucky, yeah—my first,” you nod profusely.

his lips latch onto your pretty cunt which make your thighs tremble softly. he holds onto your thighs once again, keeping you still as he tastes you real good. his warm tongue dips into your cunt perfectly, just pushing past that spongy, soft spot in your gummy walls. “c-can’t do it, luke!” you buck your hips into his mouth and your juices mixed with his saliva run down his chin disgustingly.

he pulls off for a second, just to speak, “she’s been waiting for this, gotta give it to ‘er. don’t move,” his nails dig into your plush thighs even more when he starts sucking your clit again, one thigh feeling a bit of relief when his hand pulls off and he dips his middle finger into your pussy.

“shit, you’re really this tight? guess bein’ ignored all this time did somethin’ to you.”

you thrash and cry out while he fucks your glistening cunt with one finger, “t-too much, luke!” you try and pull off his finger, but he just digs deeper into you, making sure to curl up into your hole. “y’know, maybe this is why nobody fucks you—you can’t take it,” laughing.

“jus’ let me have it now, luke,” you whine, “don’t want it to hurt, put it in n-now…” his finger still deep in you. his eyes are trained on your face, the way your hair sticks to your forehead and how your teeth tear into your bottom lip, drawing blood. your eyebrows knitted as he hits that good spot. “since you want it so badly,” he sits up and pulls his sweatpants off, his boxers follow.

your jaw goes slack at the sight of it and you crane your neck to get a better look. he notices your face and grins seeing you all nervous and shit. “relax. i’ll help you through it, we both know no one else will,” he spit on his hand and started stroking his cock while you watch, legs spread, a lump in your throat, hands gripping your bedsheets so you don’t faint.

it’s so thick, and the tip of it’s all red, puffy and angry. he rubs it against your clit, hands wrapped around your thighs once again to really make sure you don’t run. you wanted this, it’s clear. “f-first time feelin’ a cock against you, right?” he could barely get the words out without stuttering, you feel too good!

his cock slipped into you in a way that screamed "i'm so sorry for you,” like he wanted you to know this was a favor, that he wouldn’t do this any other time. he’s helping a loser. he fucks his cock into you, pulling in and out with your shared juices at the base of his cock. “fuckin’ tight,” your nails dig into his arms that are planted on either side of your head, sheets in his fist as he pushes into you. the way your gummy hole squeezes him, practically beckoning him inside, it’s inviting.

you can’t take it, to be honest! your thighs shaking and back arching off the bed as luke gives you what you wanted. “need this experience if you want a man, y’know?” he thrusts, “e-experience is required.”

you unravel underneath him with that knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust he gives you, “g-gonna cum, luke, please!” you pleaded with him to get off of you, to not make you cum around him, to save you the embarrassment of letting go all over him.

“let it go,” he thrusts with each word. his thick cock hit that spot too much for you to handle. so you do let it go and your cunt flutters around his shaft. you milk him with each time it restricts around him, choking him. “cummin’! i’m cummin’!” you cry out, every part of your body trembling as your orgasm takes over your entire body. he finds this hilarious, laughing as your body contorts just from the feeling of his cock.

your cunt is still so much tighter than anyone he’s had before, somehow! even with all of this, you’re just squeezing him so good. he has to cum. he feels his balls tightening as he approaches his orgasm. “put my babies n’ you,” groaning out, arms bending for his elbows to rest beside your head when he gives you his all. “poor fuckin’ girl needed my cock to c-cum!” before his warm load spills deep inside of you. his cock twitches as he fucks it into you, holding your face in his hands while is cum spills out of you with each thrust.

the aftershocks of your orgasm were still hitting you as he quickly pulled out of you, pulling his boxers and sweatpants back on.

“y’know, you should be grateful. nobody else would waste their time,” he ran his fingers through his damp curls as he spoke. “you’re welcome.”

✶ › @lindsay00000008 @ptolomia @his-sweet-angel @spookypeacesandwich @francesababyd0ll @pesto777 @loverangels @boldlyenchantingfox22 @patientnumber13 @luvvforliaa @floatinginthecosmo @bubbly0 @bigmeangiant @mayo-n-ketchup @sisyqhus @breisgold-blog @olderguysworld @x-fanaccount1-x @xombied @tribbisweetdear @livlocus

if you commented and weren’t tagged, i unfortunately wasn’t able to tag you!

beardedmrbean

theman

I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF

tattooedzombigirl

This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.

secondlina

Reblogging because it’s a damn potato and I want to encourage people to assume potatoes are magical.

omegansamurai

Let’s do this.

slutdge

i love being a pervert online with all of you

escuerzoresucitado

brionysea

we need to keep this circulating so it can find the people who are about to stay up for 3 to 4 hours

warnersister

Put your shoes on, love

Finn Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smut (choking, name calling)

Summary: Finn’s got flowers, you have needs, his brothers don’t help.

Request here

“Where you going with them Finn?” Arthur asked his brother, eyeing the comically large bouquet of flowers that the former was now attempting to hide behind his slender frame. “No where” he quickly blurts “with what?” “Yeah yeah sure” Arthur narrows his eyes with a smirk as the boy scurries off, nearly falling over his own feet.

Finn checks over his shoulders few times before throwing little pebbles at the top window of a terrace house. *tap* *tap* *tap* “OW” “shit sorry darling” you rubbed your forehead as you peeked outside your window. “I am sorry my love” he said, hand holding the bouquet with one hand and the other scratching the back of his neck guiltily. “You’re lucky you’re attractive Shelby or I’d be lobbing something at your head.” You said with a faux angry look on your face as he grins up at you.

“They better be for me” you say, nodding at the flowers behind his back “maybe. Guess you better come and see” he hums, pivoting from heel to toe as you shake your head with a grin. “Give me a minute” you say, shutting your window and padding your way down the stairs.

You open the door and jump into his arms as he drops the flowers to catch you, spinning you around and holding you in the air, hovering just above the cobbles as he looks at you lovingly. “You haven’t got shoes on” he says, matter of factly. And you squeak “can you carry me back in” “ah that’s gonna cost you” he says with a straight face and you get closer and whisper “Finn I have no money” he grins “lucky I don’t accept money, ain’t it?” He rests his forehead against yours “only kisses” and kisses your lips sweetly.

He takes wide steps into the doorway of your house as you comment “hope you don’t take kisses off anyone else” “course not sweetheart.” “Get my flowers.” “Yes, love” he steps back and grabs the bouquet, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t slam my bloody door” “sorry, love”

“Should I get my shoes?” You ask after decanting and repotting the, now slightly squished, flowers. “I have something I’d rather do” he said, walking you backward as you raise your brow with a giggle “what’s that, Shelby?” “You” he exclaims, throwing you over his shoulder as a squeal emits from your mouth.

Finn’s suspenders are slackened and his trousers are at his ankles; your skirt hitched above your waist as he grips at the pooling material to keep it out of his way “do you..” you take a gulping breath to keep up with his pace “want me..” “to get on top?” You ask and he smirks at you, shaking his head smugly “nah you just lay there and look pretty.. let me do all the work darlin” he tells you “actually, hold this for me” he passes the bunched up dress from his hands to yours to free his up, his hands going to your hips to angle them further upwards, prompting a groan from deep in your chest. He passed a hand around your throat to feel the vibrations of your sounds but his fingers tightening around the skin forced a deep, guttural moan out of your lips; an immeasurable pleasure stimulating at your core “Jesus you do like to be fucked like a slut.” He hisses “thought you were supposed to be all innocent, my innocent good girl” his words and deep thrusts overstimulated your mind and body, your chest arch upwards into him and off the bed “that’s it, cmon show me how much you want me-” *knock, knock, knock* his movements faltered and you whined “don’t stop for fucks sake-” *knock, knock, knock* “I think there’s someone at the door” Finn said “no shit” you reply with an angered snarl. “Get off me” you huff, pushing him off of you as he rolls onto the bed and you stand on wobbly legs. He grins victoriously and folds his fingers together and slots them behind his head to rest on as you stomp down the stairs.

“What?” You open the door angrily to see John and Arthur Shelby stood shoulder to shoulder in the frame. They raise their eyebrows in surprise at your angered and messed appearance and sharp tone, a hint of a smile on John’s lips. “Just wanted to let Finn know we’re all heading to the Garrison, love” Arthur said “and?” “Can you tell him, flower?” John asked nicely, “no, fuck off” you say as you try to shut the door but John places a foot in the way. “What’s got you so worked up, darling?” “We were a bit busy. I’ll send him later-” “send me where?” You all heard as he sauntered down the stairs “pub” you say in a sulk. They looked Finn up and down as his eyes widened at who the visitors at the door were. They shared a look as they took in his and your’s appearances. Your messed up hair and crinkled clothes that only seemed to iron out at the waist, Finn’s bare chest, suspenders around his waist, button done on his trousers but the zip down, a tent evident in his trousers - even missing a sock. “Oh!” Arthur said “our apologies” he said, but couldn’t form it completely due to his and John’s eruption of laughter. “You’re busy Finn, clearly.” John nodded, still chuckling. “So those flowers were for someone” Arthur suggested, on his tiptoes as he peered nosily into the house. “Look I was doing something-” Finn said, but you interrupted. “He was doing someone. Fuck off” you slammed the door “ruined my fucking orgasm” you cursed, grabbing the elastic of his loose suspender and dragging him back up the stairs as if on a leash.

“You’re gonna make me cum then you can go out. Do exactly what you were doing” you instruct, flopping dramatically onto the messed up bead spread with a bothered huff. He crossed his arms and leant against the door frame “and what exactly was I doing, Mrs?” He hums “choking me and calling me a slut.” He licks his lips at your bluntness, rushing over and climbing back on top of you. You look up at him with angry, wide, doe eyes as he teases you with the tip and ghostly his hand around your neck, tracing your jaw line as if the essence of a sketch “Fuck me Finn”.

About fifteen minutes later, Finn opened the door to see his brothers leant against the wall, smoking, clearly waiting for him. They looked at him, neck purple with kiss-infused bruises and licking his palm to flatten his hair, tucking his shirt into his trousers. “Want to tie your shoelace?” Arthur asked and Finn rolled his eyes and squatted to do so, as John peered into the house to see you, much calmer, at the foot of the stairs. “You coming love?” Arthur asked “am I invited?” You asked, slightly surprised.

“Get your shoes on, love”

bad268

Hi could I please request Finn getting with a girl who already has a son from a different relationship . And his family see him basically being a father to the child.

Maybe they corner him at the next meeting asking why he has a son he never told them about.

I absolutely love Finn so much he’s the best Shelby !

Thank you Xx

Man Up (Finn Shelby X Single Mom! Reader)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Requested: Clearly (I just love him. Took me a minute to get it done but I can never say no to Finn)

Warnings: Being a mother? idk (being called mummy and the use of daddy at the end (non sexual))

POV: Second Person (You/your/she/her)

W.C. 1712

Summary: The Shelbys think it's time for Finn to man up, but they don't know the whole truth.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest/i ran out of show pictures, sue me)

aureateink

i would love to see 1000 secrets with barty crouch or regulus 😏

combining this with another reg request!! I have one coming for Barty soon too dw 🫶

1000 secret kisses | R.B.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut mentioned, secret relationships, fwb, drinkin

masterlist

Alright, Barty. Truth, dare, or shot,” Dorcas said, still coughing after the gulp of firewhisky she just took.

“Truth,” Barty replied.

“What's your most controversial opinion about someone in the group?” Dorcas challenged, and everyone ooooh’d.

Barty took a contemplative drag of his joint, then—“I would bet my left nut that Regulus is a virgin,” Barty said through a cloud of smoke.

“No way, look at him!” Pandora argued. “He fucks, guarantee it.”

natti-ice

colouredbyd

"If you look closely, you'll see them!"

Regulus Black x fem!reader

synopsis: you swear regulus has dimples but no one believes you, until he walks in and proves everyone wrong.

warnings: pure fluff, mentions of cold demeanor, some mild language, grumpy x sunshine kinda?

w/c: 3k

a/n: my headcanon is that regulus has dimples!!! i said what i said guys, argue with me !! also this has been in my drafts for a good 7 months </3

masterlist

"Regulus Black does not have dimples!"

Sirius declares for the third time that afternoon, sprawled across the common room sofa with his legs thrown carelessly over James’s lap, his voice carrying that unbothered arrogance he wielded like a second skin.

"You’re hallucinating."

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand firm before the Marauders, unyielding in your defiance. Mary is nestled against Remus’s shoulder, her eyes glimmering with barely-contained amusement as if she knows something the others don’t.

"I am not hallucinating," you retort, voice dripping with indignation, hands finding your hips in a stance that borders on stubbornness. "I’ve seen them! They’re right here."

noblehouseofgay

[An average day in class with the skittles]

Regulus, raising his hand: I know the answer

Barty, mocking him: I KnOw ThE aNsWeR

Regulus: shut up, moron

Barty: oi! Don't call me a moron you fuckin arsehole

Professor: Mr Crouch! Did you just say the f word?

Barty: arse?

Regulus: he's talking about fuck. You can't say fuck in class you fucking idiot

Professor: Mr Black!

Barty: well why the fuck not?

Professor: Mr Crouch!

Evan: dude you just said fuck again

Professor: Mr Rosier!

Pandora: fuck !!

Professor: Ms Rosier!

Barty: what's the big deal? It doesn't hurt anybody. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck

Professor: How would you like to have a month's detention?

Barty: how would you like to suck my prick, professor

[Gasps around the room, Reg is trying not to laugh, Evan is proud, pandora is entertained]

Professor: what did you say?!

Barty, standing on his desk: I said how would you like to suck my prick, professor

fromrory

𐔌 ⋮ “inked in devotion”

''You're so blind sweetheart'' ''I was just playing along,habibati'' feat. d.wayne x f.reader wc: 946 words

✶—Masterlist

Your hands were still warm when the artist finally finished the last swirl of henna. Deep brown paste curled along your palms, weaving across your fingers, wrapping your wrists like delicate vines. The design was intricate, traditional, and stunning — little flowers, drops, constellations of dots, and fine-lined details that looked like they were drawn by a goddess herself.

Diana had insisted you get your henna done for the embassy gala. You had insisted on hiding one very specific letter in it.

The Arabic د — dāl. Damian’s initial. Hidden where skin met pulse. A secret stitched into your bloodstream.

Your mom had only smiled knowingly. “She’s in love,” she told the henna artist, who nodded as if she could see it in the way you kept giggling and kicking your feet.

By the time you made it back to the Manor, the paste on your hands had dried into rich dark shapes that clung to your skin like lace. You kept staring at your palms, smiling like a girl with a crush and a secret.

You didn’t even hear Damian enter your room.

He appeared silently — like usual — his presence slipping in like shadow, like smoke, like breath. His voice was low, soft, teasing:

“Habibti.”

You jumped so hard you almost hit the ceiling.

Damian sighed. “You must grow accustomed to my footsteps. I am not trying to assassinate you.”

“You move like you are!” you snapped, pressing a hand to your chest. “My soul left my body—”

Your hand froze.

Damian saw.

And his brows knit.

“You got henna.”

You brightened immediately. “Do you like it?”

He reached for your wrist — carefully, reverently — turning your hand over in his own. His gaze traced every curve and swirl with serious, almost analytical focus.

“It is beautiful,” he murmured. “It suits you.”

You tried not to smile too hard.

He kept looking, eyes sharp. Studying. Scanning. Searching.

Oh no.

You swallowed. Don’t find it. Don’t find it yet. You’ll combust—

“There is something…” Damian muttered.

He lifted your palm closer to his face. His frown deepened. His eyes narrowed. He tilted your hand toward the light.

You held your breath.

“…wrong with this section,” he said finally, tapping his thumb on the patch of patterns above your pulse. “The symmetry is off. Perhaps the artist—”

“NO!” you yelped, way too fast, way too high-pitched. “Nothing is wrong! It’s perfect! Amazing! Gorgeous! Don’t you have to, like, go sharpen a sword or glare at someone?!”

Damian stared at you. Suspicious. Very suspicious.

“…Habibti.”

Your face burned.

“You’re hiding something.”

You squeaked.

He stepped closer, the tip of his nose nearly brushing your cheek as he angled your wrist again. This time, his tone dropped, soft and dangerous in that way only Damian could manage:

“Do you truly think you can hide anything from me?”

Your heartbeat could probably be heard from space.

He traced the inside of your palm with his thumb — slow, deliberate, warm. Goosebumps erupted up your arm.

He found it.

He froze.

Then— Very slowly— Damian whispered:

“د.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I can explain—”

But you didn’t get the chance.

Because he lifted your hand. And pressed his lips to the letter.

It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t shy. It was deliberate. Slow. A kiss meant to be felt.

Your knees nearly buckled.

Damian didn’t look up. His lips brushed the dried henna again, softer this time, a whisper of devotion.

“Mine,” he murmured against your skin. “Written on you.”

Your breath caught.

“And me?” you whispered. “Are you… are you going to pretend you didn’t spend five minutes pretending you couldn’t see it?”

His ears went red instantly.

“I was giving you time to confess,” he snapped.

You giggled.

“You couldn’t find it,” you said.

“That is false.”

“You were squinting.”

“I was analyzing the geometry of the design—”

“You put my hand under the lamp!”

“That is called thoroughness, habibti—”

You threw your arms around his neck, laughing as you pressed your forehead to his. He grumbled, but his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer.

“Habibti,” he muttered, annoyed but soft, “stop laughing at me.”

“I can’t!” you gasped. “You kissed the henna—!”

“That is what you wanted.”

You froze.

“…what?”

His voice lowered, becoming something warm, something serious, something that could melt bone:

“You wanted people to know you belonged with me.” A pause. “And I wanted to honor that.”

Your breath shook.

“You like it?” you whispered.

Damian didn’t answer with words.

He lifted your hand again and kissed the letter a third time — slower, lingering, like a vow.

“You carved my name into your skin,” he said quietly. “Of course I like it.”

Your heart felt too big for your body.

Then—

He suddenly stepped back, looking at you with the most serious expression in the world.

“We are going to take a photo.”

“What—”

“I want you to put your hand on my chest so the henna is visible.”

“Damian—”

“I am updating my lockscreen.”

You blinked.

“Your… lockscreen?”

“Yes,” he said, as if this were obvious. “People must know.”

“Know what?”

He kissed your wrist again.

“That you are mine,” he said softly. “And I am yours.”

Your whole face melted.

You lifted your other hand — the one without henna — and cupped his cheek.

“I love you,” you murmured.

He didn’t blink, didn’t hesitate, didn’t shy away.

“I love you more,” Damian Wayne said, and meant every syllable.

And when you took that picture — your hand on his chest, the د glowing dark over his heart — he stared at it like a treasure he’d kill for.

Which, knowing Damian, he would.

A/N:WE CAN TELL I FINISHED EXAMSSS 🔖 𓂃⋆.˚:: @simpingmyassoff @shootingstargirl2001 , @dreamerwhofell , @gothamwing , @amiratheangel , @virtaideen , @asterwriter221 , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore , @supahnohvaa , @vivian-555 , @piatosniathenie , @sonyboos , @beanxiv , @animegamerfox , (if you want to be added comment down below!!)

junipers-archive

✧ Princess *ੈ✩

Word Count: 900

Includes: SMUT, sub!reader x kinda soft!dom!lily, reader is obsessed with Lily's boobs- kinda perv!reader, dirty talk, teasing, reader has praise!kink & mommy!kink, multiple orgasms

A/N: Enjoy! First Lily smut I've done but I'm obsessed with her so let me know if you like it :]

Younger you would be freaking out right now. Because Lily Evans is straddled on your lap, talking about her day and playing with your hair.

silverdecepticon93-deactivated2

Secret Super Boyfriend

Request: “Can you make a Batfamily X batsis but she’s dating Connor Kent (superboy from Regin of the Superman) and she sneaks out to see him, not knowing that her brothers were following her”

A/N: I had no idea what to title this, still, I hope you enjoy!

(The thing he does with his jacket gets me feeling some kinda way, honestly)

Damian, who was currently following behind you like a shadow, leapt from wall-to-wall as you continued to walk through the darker alleyways of Gotham. You always had a good sense of direction and the layout of Gotham and maybe even a bit of Bludhaven was seared into your mind. You knew every street, every alleyway, and never got lost.

Much like the rest of your family, you were calculating and usually had a reason or ulterior motive in your actions, so when Tim had discovered your habit of sneaking out at night, your brothers knew that you had a reason for doing so and they were going to find out why. Mostly because they were curious as to see what was so tempting that you’d actually sneak out of a house filled with detectives, very skilled detectives.

“I have eyes on (Y/n), she’s travelling through the backstreets of Gotham.” Damian informed the rest of the family. Jason was the first to respond with comm he had recently installed in his helmet, “Alright, where are you guys at right now?”

Damian looked around before noting his surroundings, “The alleyway next to that arcade place she and Drake like going too so much.”

Tim only snickered at the information, “Don’t tell me she’s been sneaking out just to beat my highscores.”

You suddenly stopped walking and started looking over your shoulder and peering into the darkness suspiciously. Damian had utilized the dark fabric of his cloak to shield him from your gaze, leaving a little bit of space for him to see as you inspected the area before shrugging it off and turning the corner.

“She just entered the arcade.” Damian enlightened the rest of the family. Dick looked at the GPS on his bike before answering his own comm, “Right, sit tight, Damian, we’ll re-group there.”

Damian didn’t have to wait long as Tim had jumped from the arcade roof to the spot next to Damian. Meanwhile, Jason had arrived on his bike before Dick finally arrived. The four of them, all dressed in civilian clothes, curiously peeked into the window only to see that you had your phone out while occasionally sending a worried glance outside the window. The four of them ducked back into the alleyway before exchanging looks with each other.

“She’s obviously waiting for someone.” Jason notes, the other three nodding in agreement.

“But the question is who?” Dick frowned, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“Perhaps Garfield? The two have been pretty close the past year. Jaime, even…” Damian suggested, “or Raven, they both seem to like each other.”

“Or maybe Superboy.” Tim gasped.

Damian raised an eyebrow while the older bat brothers shook their heads dismissively.

“Why would (Y/n) be hanging around with that punk?” Jason scoffed at the very thought while crossing his arms over his chest. Tim only pointed at the sky, “Gee, maybe we could ask him ourselves.”

All three of the raven-haired brothers looked in the direction where Tim was pointing to be shocked by the sight in front of them. Descending from the sky was, indeed, Superboy and all his glory. All four of them were startled when they heard the arcade door suddenly swing open and saw that you walked over to the Superman clone, a bright smile on your face.

“It’s about time you showed up,” You mused as he flew in front of you, “I thought you were already here.”

He simply shrugged with a lazy grin and adjusted his sunglasses, “Just took a few minutes to look my best. After all, you Bats aren’t easy to impress.”

You rolled your eyes before walking closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Well, I appreciate the effort,” You said softly before puckering up your lips, he did so as well.

Much to your brother’s horror, you two began to kiss. You stood on your tippy-toes to deepen the kiss as well as tightening your arms gently around his neck. Connor only smiled mid-kiss before lifting you up slightly by your waist.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tim gagged.

Meanwhile, Dick stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of him as Jason clenched his fists and furrowed his brows as he imagined a thousand ways for the half-kryptonian to die. Damian, however, did not just stand around and watch.

“Enough of this!” He growled before taking out the katana he concealed in his outfit before charging towards you and your apparent secret boyfriend.

You and Connor broke the kiss, a look of confusion on both your faces as you heard a distant sound that sounded like it kept coming closer to you two.

“Do you hear…yelling?” Connor frowned, only to suddenly be pushed out of the way by you as Damian had swung his sword in the place where your boyfriend once stood.

“Damian?!” You exclaimed but he ignored you.

Instead, he once more lifted up his katana to attack your boyfriend, who flew up from the ground so quickly that his sunglasses had fallen off of his face. When he tried to retrieve them, he narrowly missed being cut by Damian’s sword as Damian purposely stepped on his sunglasses.

“How dare you defile my Ukht like that?” Damian growled as he once more lunged for the half-kryptonian.

“Damian! Stop!” Dick shouted, now revealing his hiding place and running over to stop the youngest bat family member.

“Dick?” You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Wait, I want to see where this goes!” Your second oldest brother shouted as he chased after to stop Dick from stopping Damian’s blind rage.

“Jason?!” You called out but he had already ran past you.

“Hey, (Y/n).” Tim greeted, his hands in his hoodie pockets as he watched his brothers clash and your boyfriend trying to dodge all of your younger brother’s attacks.

“Tim?” You groaned before gesturing to the three, “Were you guys following me?” “No, we all decided to have a nice stroll because we enjoy each other’s company,” Jason remarked sarcastically. You only rolled your eyes while Connor kept trying to dodge your youngest brother’s wrath, “Hey, babe, think you can call him off?”

“Damian, stop it!” You finally said, running in front of him and putting your hand on his shoulders.

When looking into your (e/c) eyes, Damian’s annoyed face soon softened as he lowered his katana, but you could still tell he was a bit peeved.

“You have some explaining to do.” Dick finally said.

“How long have you been going out with this- this-…him!” Jason stammered as he pointed at your boyfriend.

“Not that long!” You promised before crossing your arms over your chest, “Just…for…a year…maybe.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Tim frowned, tilting his head.

You stepped back as Connor flew next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. His blue eyes shined mischievously as he smirked at you brothers.

“We’ve been going out for a year.” He said loudly, now kissing the side of your cheek and making you raise an eyebrow at him.

“A year?!” Damian repeated as he looked from you to Connor. Dick stepped closer to you two as he narrowed his gaze at you, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I knew you would react like this!” You sighed.

“Does Bruce know about this?” Tim frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. You bit your lip and scratched the side of your arm nervously, “Not…particularly…”

“Did you ever plan on telling us?” Damian growled.

You gulped, now seeing the annoyed and hurt faces of your brothers, only to feel yourself being scooped up into a pair of arms and yelped when you were suddenly flying in the sky. The sounds of your brothers shouting after you was getting fainter and fainter as you looked into the blue eyes of your boyfriend who had a brazen grin on his face.

“What’d you do that for?” You asked, unsure if Connor knew that he had just sealed his fate with your brothers. He merely shrugged before looking at you, “It’s date night, isn’t it? Not even your brothers are gonna stop me from spending the night with my girl.”

You blinked dumbfoundedly before smiling and pressing a kiss to his cheek, making his grin widen and even made him chuckle slightly.

“Plus, what’re they gonna do? Tell our dads?” He mused, flying into the night sky with you.

No, they were probably going to do so much worse than that, but you didn’t pay attention to that at the moment. Instead, you were going to enjoy what was left of the night with your boyfriend before going home to your most likely upset brothers and even more upset father.

“Think Alfred might vouch for us?” Connor finally asked, now realizing the gravity of this situation.

“I really hope so.” You wished.

amnmesias

𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

chapter nine ✶ series masterlist

james potter x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

summary: When Regulus’ injury worsens, you take drastic measures to find your estranged brother, Sirius. The plan lands you in Godric’s royal guard, trained by none other than the crowned heir, James Potter. Chaos, secrets, and emotional entanglement ensue.

tags: fem!reader, black!reader. angst, hurt/comfort. slowburn. black siblings angst. modern royal au. violence expected from these themes. cross-dressing. reader has short hair given her disguise. background wolfstar and bartylus.

a/n: AAAAA here it is!!! the showdown!!! tbh i feel like it falls a bit flat at the end of the chapter but i promise its the set up for the next chapters!!! enjoy! xx

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James blinks, once, twice. Every image in front of him is unfocused until he’s not sure what he’s seeing, first Evan then… you. Then Evan again–he tries to take the name and put it in your face, to fit it into every moment he’s shared with the supposed person in front of him.

Every laugh, every training session, every moment he had started storing in his head for personal cherishing–all of them a lie. The words slipping past your lips don’t feel like a confession, only a shattering of fantasies he thought meant something.

He blinks again, unfocused eyes finding yours, they travel over the divot between your eyebrows, your tousled hair. Someone speaks, but your lips don’t move, only tremble. But all he can think of is how you’ve always been so painfully obvious in your disguise. And yet.

Not Evan.

“James,” you whisper, voice cracking cruelly. “Not here.”

“How long have you been lying to me?”

You wet your lips nervously. “James, not here. Please.” you repeat.

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