first time + birthday sex w megumi ♡
pairing: megumi x virgin!reader (fem)
fluff to suggestive to 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 (nsfw: piv, cunnilingus) | dividers from @nynem and @enchanthings |
wc: 1.8k
it's your twentieth birthday!
megumi asked you out on a dinner date to a fancy restaurant out of town and you agreed. you were so excited to finally spend your birthday with someone! you haven't spent a birthday with friends ever since your thirteenth birthday party.
you were now in your megumi's car on the way to the restaurant. tonight was one of the few nights you actually decided to do your makeup and hair properly. you always wear cute outfits though, so tonight you wore a white frilly skirt with an extra cute pink babydoll top. the first thing megumi said to you when he picked you up was not happy birthday but,
"holy shit...you look like an angel."
he said happy birthday right after though. and gave you a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he's so sweet!
you fear that if he wasn't driving his eyes would be glued to you. every time he stops at a light or a sign he immediately turns to stare at you. it's really flattering. you've never seen megumi in such a state. he seems extra intense for some reason...he isn't really speaking at all.
you turn down the music you have playing on aux.
"how far are we?"
megumi glanced at you and did a double take before looking back at the road.
"we'll be there in about fifteen minutes."
"do you know if they have cakes there?"
"i wouldn't bring you if they didn't."
he chuckled and you smiled with him.
────﹒♡﹒────
megumi stared at you from across the table.
fuck. you look so gorgeous tonight.
every time you smiled at him, exclaiming how good the food was, he felt himself get harder.
he must be going feral.
no woman, (or man), has ever gotten megumi so hard so fast.
"megumi! this cake is so good!'
he's sure yours would be too.
"here, try it!"
next thing he knew, you were leaning over the table, trying to feed him a piece of cake.
he could see your tits perfectly from how you were leaning towards him.
it's her birthday. chill the fuck out.
megumi was starting to feel a little guilty for having such dirty thoughts. you looked so happy tonight. he didn't want to accidentally ruin your mood—especially by offering sex.
he took the bite of cake and dragged his eyes back up to your face.
"is it good megs?"
you asked and batted your lashes. he nodded and continued to listen to your rant about some tv show as you finished eating.
────﹒♡﹒────
why?
why did he agree to this??
megumi had just come out of the shower and you'd asked him to let you do his skincare with the excuse that it's your birthday—which was unnecessary because he would have agreed even if it wasn't. now, you were straddling megumi's lap on your bed while you rubbed a serum into his forehead.
"awwww!"
you cooed,
"megumi you look so cute!"
he scoffed and pushed up the hello kitty headband like he wasn't rock hard.
you frowned at his reaction.
"you've been quiet all night megs..."
you then pouted.
fuck. he made you upset on your birthday.
so much for keeping you happy.
"ah—no, it's not you y/n..."
"then what is it..? you keep looking at me but you won't say anything!"
he groaned. how was he supposed to tell you what he wanted to do with you?
"okay...baby"
"yes megumi?"
you looked at him with your stupidly pretty doe eyes and he felt his cock heart throb. he sighed and shifted you on his lap by your hips.
"you feel that?"
"feel what?"
god. of course you wouldn't notice, every time since the two of you started dating, when you sat on his lap he'd get hard immediately. you probably thought it was normal for him to be like this!
fuck it.
"i want to have sex with you y/n."
.
..
...
"huh?"
"sex."
"with me?"
he nodded and looked at you too seriously to be lying.
"megumi..."
"yes?"
he saw your ears flush before you mumbled out a quiet confession.
"i'm a virgin..."
"i know baby...that's why i waited so long before asking...do you not want to?"
"no! i do! i do... but...i'm like...a super virgin..."
"meaning..?"
"i've never put anything up...there."
"ever?"
"ever."
"not even your fingers?"
you felt your face heat up even more from the embarrassment when you shook your head.
megumi suddenly groaned, and then he was kissing you.
the thought of being the first to ever stretch you out nearly made megumi cum in his pants.
you broke the kiss that was heating up way too quickly and wiped the corner of your mouth.
"wait- you don't mind?"
"no i don't. honestly, it just makes me want you more."
"really?"
he nodded.
"to be clear...you want this right?"
"yes."
you probably answered too quickly, but fuck that. you've been dating megumi for a year and the furthest you two have ever gone were really heavy make-outs.
megumi started kissing you again.
"i've wanted this for so long..."
he leaned into your neck and pressed up into you and you felt the print of his cock in his pants.
he did it again after he heard you quietly moan.
"you like that baby? i can make you feel better if you want..."
you didn't know what he was suggesting but you trusted him.
"please..."
he bit his lip at that.
"lie down for me."
you immediately obeyed. it's like you weren't in control of your body. you felt so tingly right now.
oh.
now you were looking down at megumi between your legs.
"can i take these off..?"
your brain stuttered.
well? can he?
he looked up at you with hooded eyes as he toyed with the waistband of your shorts.
"y-yes..."
"you sound nervous—"
he pulled your shorts down to your ankles and then off.
"—don't be nervous baby, i've got you."
you felt wet kisses up your thighs.
"you're so fucking gorgeous baby, y'know that?"
oh god. oh god. it's actually happening.
"keep your eyes on me."
you then feel something warm and foreign on your clit—you think you hear megumi muttering, "you're so wet" or something like that—you immediately flinched and closed your eyes. megumi rubbed your hips as if trying to say, "relax."
it wasn't long before the unfamiliarity became pleasantly overwhelming, and pressure started to quickly build up deep in your stomach.
"mmm— m-megumi! w-wait! megumi i feel weird—"
at that, he gripped your hips and dragged you down closer to his mouth.
"it's okay baby..."
he pushed a finger into your slick heat and you moaned.
"cum around my fingers y/n."
fuck he sounded so hot.
a loud moan left your lips and you squeezed the pillow beneath your head. a strange, but oh so delicious feeling washed over you, it was unlike anything you've ever felt.
is this what an orgasm feels like? you wanted to feel this for the rest of your life.
after you felt the trembling in your legs diminish, you opened your eyes and looked down at megumi.
holy shit.
his hair was starting to stick to his forehead from sweat, his lips were swollen and red, and his chin was covered in what you assumed was your cum. but his eyes.
they were usually a pretty, dark blue, but that blue was nowhere to be seen now. a perverted darkness replaced the usual blue.
"fuck y/n. you squirted."
"u-uhm...is that bad...?"
"absolutely not."
he snaked his way up your body and kissed you. it was weird tasting yourself on his tongue.
"did that feel good?"
you nodded shyly.
"good. because i'm going to be doing that a lot more often now."
you loved the idea of that.
"is...is that it then..?"
"hell no. well- unless you want to stop now."
"please don't."
he moaned so innately, you didn't believe the sound came from megumi.
"say you mean it."
"i mean it megs...i want to keep going..."
"fuck. okay... hold on."
you sat on your bed and watched him dig in his wallet on your dresser before he fished out a condom and stripped off his pyjama pants, leaving him in his boxers. you could see how much he wanted this by how his cock was straining proudly against his boxers.
he laughed,
"you're staring"
"uh...yeah.."
you mumbled and watched in awe as he took off his boxers and rolled the condom on.
"you sure you want this?"
"uh huh."
you looked up as he climbed on top of you.
"okay then, i'll be gentle okay?"
you shakily nodded and clutched his forearm.
"this won't work if you're tense baby. relax."
you exhaled, loosened your grip on his arm, and closed your eyes.
"none of that. look at me y/n."
forcing open one eye, you glanced at megumi, and then where your bodies met. the tip of his slender cock was pressed against your entrance, you never imagined yourself in a position like this in a thousand years.
"breathe with me."
as the two of you inhaled he slowly pushed in and you felt a sharp sting along with the pressure of being filled.
by the time you both exhaled, megumi tentatively asked,
"okay, it's in...can i move now?"
he's all the way in?
you looked down to see his pelvis flush against your spread legs.
"don't look there. just feel.."
he tilted your chin up to look at him again.
"oka-"
megumi didn't wait for an answer when he slowly started thrusting into you.
you whimpered at the intrusion but toughened it out for his sake. he looked so handsome right now. his eyebrows were slightly furrowed like he was holding back the moon and stars, his teeth were bullying his bottom lip, he was flushed up to his ears, and his beautiful long lashes fanned against his cheekbones.
by the time he started fucking into you faster the pain dissolved into a sweet bliss. he felt so good inside you. you suddenly felt a strong need to be closer to him.
"megs...kiss me please?"
you didn't get to finish the request before his lips were melded with yours.
he lifted both your thighs to the side and groaned into your mouth as his hips snapped to meet yours.
he didn't think you'd feel so good. holding out for a year was definitely starting to feel worth it now. your pussy was the sweetest he'd ever had, your moans the sweetest he'd ever heard. god. he'd never let you go.
"fuck baby, i'm gonna cum—"
"mmm, me too megumi- feels soooo good!"
you whined against his lips and he lost it.
he spilled inside the condom, but didn't stop thrusting into you until he felt you clench around him and cum as well.
he reluctantly pulled out and looked at you.
you looked fucked. (haha literally)
"that was....i liked that.."
you whispered the last three words like a secret.
"im glad. i liked it too. now let's get you cleaned up."
"wait- can we stay like this a little longer? please?"
"okay,"
he smiled.
"whatever you want, birthday girl."
you rolled over on top of him and kissed his cheek.
"then...can we do it again?"
if you liked ts you might like my other megumi works !
kawaiiladygirl's note: hihihihi this is my first time writing smut and its probably ass lolol. i've read so much smut so i hope this is a least a little goon-able. AND i think there's some inconsistencies in the past/present tense throughout, please dihsregard those if you peeped them <3
HELLOOOOO!!! HOW HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? GREAT I HOPE! ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
I want to make a request of the housewardens reactions (+Jamil cuz why not♡) of them reacting to their S/O (A lady S/O if u please, or GN is fine!) having a fancy, yk chic type of fashion—her entire energy screams model! Like these pictures below!
And shesbalso the type to call people "darling" or "cutie"! SOME OF THEM WOULD SHORT CIRCUIT LMFAO
THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE UR CONTENT XX♡♡♡♡♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆. 𐙚 ˚
" DARLING~ " ── HOUSEWARDENS + JAMIL
ㅤ ׅ 𝄂𝄚𝅦𝄚𝄞𝅄ㅤ
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗. " sfw, established relationship, chic and elegant fashion s/o reader, headcanons + small fic, tooth-rotting fluff, possibly ooc, grammatical mistakes, not beta-reader !! " ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
── author's note: this was so fun to write, hope this was what you were looking for ! thank you for the compliment and the request !! hope you enjoy ( ◜‿◝ )♡ edit: man i kinda got lazy :((
ℛiddle
⟢ at first, you can definitely see he's trying is best to maintain composure. the sudden nicknames and close proximity always leaves him flustered, he can't stand it ! but at the same time ... he's so fond to it ?
⟢ you stroll up to him once during a unbirthday party―posture prefect, heels clicking elegantly and you softly spoke .. " good afternoon, darling~ i must say, the tea is especially sweet today, hm ? "
⟢ he almost drops his teacup, freezing in the spot the housewarden of heartslabyul actually having to take a moment to remember where he is.
⟢ his brain is going off, multiple scenarios running through his head on how he can get out of this moment―does this violate a rule? no, you're simply being yourself ... can his blush get any redder ?
⟢ he clears his throat, appreciating your compliment and can't take his eyes off your for the rest of the afternoon.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
the tea up in his hand trembles slightly, but he hides it well. riddle pauses mid-sentence and blinks at you.
you haven't even done anything outrageous to get him worked up, sure he was red in the face, but this time it wasn't to scream at the first years or punish a student for violating the rules.
no, it was because ... you called him that nickname.
you simply step into the garden, tart on a saucer in hand and posture so elegant you put actual models to shame. your outfit was immaculate, riddle thought he was seeing things.
" my, what a lovely set up. the white tabletops certainly contrast with the red roses beautifully~ you've outdone yourself, darling~ "
the word hits him harder than any rule violation ever could.
" d-darling ? " riddle repeats in a hushed whisper, honestly just needing to hear it again.
you simply look at him with an innocent face, lips pouty and eyes shining with delight, when you notice his sudden change of aura. " was it something i said ? " you ask, your voice so soft it could put a pile of feathers to shame.
riddle's face turns rosey red, teacup rattling against the white saucer as he places it down.
" my rose, you can't―say things like that so casually! "
you tilt your head, hair falling perfectly at your shoulder as you smile gently. "does it ... bother you ?"
" yes. "
you blink, lashes fluttering with a hint of sadness.
he immediately regrets his words.
" no―it's just..." he grumbles under his breath, adjusting his collar to hide his embarrassment. a housewarden who can't even handle the nickname darling, what a joke. " please, not around others... "
you pause for a moment until he's met with bubbly giggles, once he can recognize blindfolded. you lean in slightly, taking his gloved hand to adjust the cuffs with gentle precision―you whisper under your breath, " you look prefect, riddle. that's all i wanted you to know~ "
riddle exhales, cheeks still hot but not as red anymore, gesturing you the chair next to him. " sit, my rose. " he takes another moment to let his fingers linger on yours for a second longer, " next to me. "
ℒeona
⟢ first glance, doesn't care―LOOKS AGAIN―he stared longer then he will admit. he wasn't the type of judge people based of their outfits, unless it's obvious they are trying to look ridiculous, so seeing you walk down the halls with your hair tied in a pretty ribbon and draped in pretty fabric .. yah he's staring.
⟢ you walk up to him, looking like you stepped straight out of a magazine cover and smile up at him , " hey, darling, you free later today ? "
⟢ you push his hair back to fix his collar, all while leona is staring down at you with a grin on his lips. " darling, huh ? you sound like you want something from me. " he teases to cover the tint of pink on his face.
⟢ it takes a lot to fluster him, but when it comes to you and your way with words, you have him wrapped around your finger.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
he hears you before he sees you, heels clicking against the school halls―slow and confident. leona cracks one eye open from where he stood, leaning against the wall with his tail swishing back and forth lazily.
he always notices your outfits, how you stand out between everyone else.
" well, damn ... " he would tell himself with a sly smirk, as you stepped into reach he tucks your hair behind your ear as you smile up at him.
you look like someone who walked straight out of some high-end magazine―flawless and untouchable.
" hi, darling~ you waiting for someone ? " you asked, voice gentle and steady.
he huffs, but lets you play with his hair as you lean closer to him, practically taking up his personal space.
" what if i am ? " he mused, " jealous ? "
you chuckle, noticing the soft tint of pink on his cheeks and combed your fingers between his hair, " hardly~ "
you kiss him cheek, interlocking your hands with his and flutter your lashes at him. " you like it when i call you darling, hm ? "
his tail flicks. leona looks away with a huff and turns to walk, not once loosening his grip on you―instead, it tighten.
" i like what's mine, what's so wrong with that ? "
𝓐zul
⟢ honestly, ego boost>> he is down bad. horribly bad, it's embarrassing. for him, it's fun to see his glasses almost fall off his face when he takes one look at you.
⟢ it's the way you say the words, it gets him all mushy and he forgets everything he was going to say. yes, it affects him that bad.
⟢ your heels click like warning to others around you, but deaf upon azul's ears. finding your boyfriend surrounded by different papers and contracts it makes your brain hurt just staring at him.
⟢ " azul, darling~ you've been working so hard. don't you think it's time for a break ? "
⟢ he nearly drops his pen, when did you walk in ?
⟢ " i can assure you, my pearl ― " you immediately cut him off, leaning close your lips almost touch. " i just don't want you to overwork yourself, hun~ "
⟢ he's trying to find the words, he is NOT COMPOSED.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
azul prides himself on control, proper schedules and composure.
on rarely letting anything make him feel small and being caught off guard. so why are you making it so difficult for him ?
you walk down the lounge with confident steps, a soft smile on your lips that can strike any man. outfit sparkling when you walk, hair combed and styled.
" azul, darling~ "
you called out to him from behind the bar, sitting on the high chair with ease, heels sitting at the bottom of the seat.
he adjusts his glasses upon hearing your arrival, that nickname causes him to slip up a sentence to his employee and shoos then back to the kitchen.
" pearl , " he almost sighs, standing directly in front of you now from the opposite side of the surface and stared back at you.
you simply smile at him, chin resting on your hand, scarily confident and unbothered.
" you work too hard, it's affecting your other employees "
he merely laughs it off, " they read the contract, it's all business. "
" oh, you're such a cutie when you talk all professional like that. "
azul felt his heart skip a beat.
you sigh, lashes fluttering as you tilt your head. he doesn't notice your hand snuck its way to hold it from the table. he pauses for a moment, but relaxes at your touch.
" you ... " he groaned, rubbing the bridge if his nose, " are going to be the death of me, " it comes out more of a whisper, your face innocent as you smile.
" you like it~ "
" because it's you, my dear~ "
𝒦alim
⟢ oh, he's obsessed with you. your gorgeous, he definitely wouldn't have it any other way!
⟢ the second he sees you all dressed up, fancy and chic, you can hear his gasp from hallway down
⟢ he doesn't hug you immediately because he doesn't want to mess up your outfit ノ makeup ― but of you give him the aok he's all over you, he's so proud to be your boyfriend.
⟢ when you call him darling, or cutie, he's so happy. like a puppy when they hear their favorite word.
⟢ " darling? " , " yes, baby!!? "
⟢ you would think he gets all flustered, and he does, but he's more smiliy and laughing then blushy.
⟢ he would show you off to anyone, he can talk about you for hours !
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
he spots you in the crowd of his party, a big one mind you, immediately charmed by your outfits. your bangles, earrings, your dress and heels―he's gushing over you.
" y/n ! you look amazing ! " he smiles, arms extended around you as if to hug you. you just smile at him, your drink in your hand you reach your other arm out to caress his cheek.
" why, thank you, cutie~ " you reply softly with a playful wink, it leaves kalim blinking once before smiling stupidly.
"cutie ? me !!? " it was the way you said it that made kalim happy.
" yes, you~ "
you adjust a small detail on his outfit, fingers gentle and precise. kalim lets you, a soft blush on his face with a happy smile while he tries his best to stand still. you dust off his vest and lean close to kiss his cheek,
" go enjoy your party, cutie~ " you tell him, knowing he's a blushy mess just looking at you and as much as it's adorable, he has a party to run.
he immediately takes your hand, not even having a second thought, and starts to drag you through the crowd. " but i wanna dance with you ! and show you off to people, your outfit can't go unnoticed ! you'll be the life of the party ! "
you just laugh, letting the music take over as you and him spend the rest of the evening together. he couldn't have it any other way.
𝒥amil
⟢ on the outside, he's composed and completely unbothered―on the inside ? it's a mess. trying to figure out how to react without looking completely obvious.
⟢ you walk up to him, effortlessly and stunning, heels clicking without a care in the world. he's minding his own business, cooking for kalim once again.
⟢ " jamil, darling, you look tense. "
⟢ he pauses mid-sip of his soup, stiffening ever so slightly he clears his throat and puts the spoon down.
⟢ " what did i say about calling me that so casually ? " he groans, eyes unreadable as he adjusts his hoodie to distract his thoughts.
⟢ it's one thing seeing you dress so beautiful, but also having to hear you call him those nicknames so casually? he's flushed.
⟢ he's usually composed and unbothered, but you ? you break those walls down so quickly.
⟢ he pretends to not like them, but he actually loves them―please calling him by these nicknames, he needs to hear someone else is looking after him.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
he spots you as you walk into the kitchen, how could he not. you outshine everyone with your outfits and bright confidence ―it's impossible not to notice you.
he keeps working, greeting you with a soft " hi, habibti" and continues to stir the soup in the big pot in front of him.
you him, heels clicking towards him. " hello, darling~ busy as always, i see. "
he stiffens, only mildly nearly dropping what he's holding.
" why'd you say it like that .. " he groaned, closing his eyes for a moment, " and yes, kalim requested to cook him something for the whole dorm to eat .. "
you raise an eyebrow at his first response, did he mean to say that out loud ?
" hm, you seem tense~ did you not like the nickname ? "
jamil thinks before he speaks.
" yes .. "
a pause.
" no― i mean, uugh- "
you just laugh, " i jest, hun~ " with a hand at his arm, you smile.
his eyes flicker towards you. your posture, your smile, your vocie―its perfect, your perfect.
" you make it difficult to concentrate when you call me that, " he sighs to himself.
" wasn't trying to, " you lean close enough to kiss his cheek, " i just love you~ is that so bad ? "
that wasn't the problem.
" i suppose not ... "
he keeps you by his side for the rest of the cooking, asking you to taste test his cooking and pretend your words aren't flustering him.
𝒱il
⟢ oh, he and you are basically THE couple. no hesitation, he respects the hell out of you―he loves everything about you.
⟢ sees your fashion as a statement, you own that look.
⟢ the two of you together ? terrifying, beautiful and confident.
⟢ he doesn't get phased when you give him these nicknames, he actually calls you darling as well~
⟢ he barely has to fix your posture, your already perfect.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
" vil, darling~ "
ah, that voice. a voice he can recognize a mile away. he hums in reply, looking up to spot you at his full body mirror, two dresses in your hands.
" which dress suits me better, i can't pick. i want to look perfect for your interview tonight! "
your voice was gentle and loving, a soft pout on your lips when vil stands, walking behind you with a perfect posture. he examines the dress in your hand, on your left is a strapless, beautiful red dress―the jewels stitched at the chest area shining bright.
on your right was a dark purple, cocktail dress―strapless a d bold.
" the purple cocktail would look gorgeous on you, darling~ "
you look back at him from the reflection and the dresses in hand, " you positive ? you don't sound so sure if yourself, "
vil steps past you, opening his closet full of accessories until he hummed happily. taking out a beautiful silver necklace, he steps back to you and stood confidentiality behind you.
draping the necklace at your neck, the metal tickling your neck with its cold touch, vil nods.
" now it's perfect~ "
you turn back to kiss his cheek, a soft thank you leaving your lips as you left to change. leaving him with a soft smile on his lips, he knows this is going to be a fantastic evening.
ℐdia
⟢ your his final boss, and you don't even mean to.
⟢ there are times you purposefully try to get him to blush, but some times you even have to try― one simple cutie and he's folded.
⟢ he thinks he's waaaaay out of your league, like who even is he compared to you ? you're a literal model and he's a nerd!
⟢ he can't stop staring at you, and when he gets caught, he panics and hides away into his hoodie.
⟢ when you get close to his face, kiss him and pull back he's actually red. there's no going back, he's gone.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
this is why idia doesn't leave his room, he always over thinks different scenarios that lead to trouble and he ended up running into you―not that that was the issue, it was the fact he was unprepared for social interactions.
" hi darling, what are you doing here~ " you asked, honestly happy to see outside of his room.
he panics. short-circuts and blushes mad.
he almost tips over, face redder then his hair when he gets mad.
" what―what ? " he stutters, your face suddenly close to his. he took a look at your outfit and his hair tips turn pink.
the layers and gloves stand out and your makeup is spot on.
you peek under his hoodie to lock eyes with him, thank the sevens no one is around to see this. he would have just died with no respawn.
"you are such a cutie when you panic, you know that ~ "
he whines.
" don't say that ! please don't say that so casually, ugh―"
it's silent for a moment until he feels your lips on his cheek, taking his hoodie and slowly pulling it down.
he doesn't recover for the rest of the day.
ℳalleus
⟢ oh you have him captivated.
⟢ doesn't matter where you are, when you approach him―elegant and deliberate―voice smooth.
⟢ " good evening, darling~ a bit chilly tonight, huh ? "
⟢ he blinks once, emerald eyes linger down at you like you've sung a beautiful melody.
⟢ darling ? he echos, silently, not wanting to expose how much that single word affected him.
⟢ your outfits are a different story, from the crown of your head to your heels, you look like a goddess. a queen in the making. he knows you'll fit the role perfectly when that time arrives.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
the garden is dark when you find him, the evening light is your only source of vision. it usually always is, when it comes to malleus.
malleus stands beneath the soft glow of a lanternlight, tall and still, part of the night itself.
" ah, here you are darling~ " you hummed happily, heels clicking against the decorative pavement as you stopped by his side. " a bit chilly out tonight, huh ? "
you wire a fluffy white scarf, a beautiful pink dress with black tights and heels that shimmered in the light. your hair tied up in a neat bun, earrings out on display.
he turns to you, deliberately, his gaze finding you immediately despite not standing so close into the light.
" darling ? "
he repeats, almost in a trance. something flickers in his eyes as he smiles softly, " you favor that nickname ? " he asks as if he already knows the answer.
you still, soft and calm. " only for those i like~ "
your hand finds his, his thumb instinctively brushing against your skin. and something inside of him shifts―not anger, but a happy feeling bubbling in his chest.
end notes ― this was supposed to be out yesterday, but i had a horrible day sooooooooooo it's out now ! long story short, don't hang around alcoholic family members when you know for a fact they aren't trying to get better.
I don’t think Rafe actually minds a girl who dresses slutty.
In fact, I think Rafe loves when his girl dresses like a floozy.
Yes, Rafe is territorial and deadly possessive. Willing to take drastic measures to ensure and protect whatever he’s deemed his stays his.
But Rafe loves attention, loves being the guy everyone envies. He wants to feel important and be important.
He wants people to envy his name, his looks, his home, his status, his family, his wealth and most importantly..
His girl.
And they do.
His perfect little arm candy who he plans on making his perfect trophy wife.
His sex kitten who struts around in sleazy stilettos, figure defining outfits and dresses. Skirts so short that she doesn’t even need to bend over for her ass to hang out with nothing but a flimsy piece of fabric wedged up her pert ass. Sheer tops and pieces of string that barely contain her beautiful breast, pert nipples and well-shaped figure. The type of clothing meant to embrace the gorgeous curves gifted to her.
Rafe constantly thanks whatever higher power carved her and sent her his way.
His flawless baby..
Wrapped up in all that with a stunning face, pouty lips slathered in glittery gloss and dewey come-hither eyes accentuated by perfectly done false lashes.
Fuck, does Rafe love when he walks around with her strapped by his side. Large bruised hand constantly groping her ass, or thigh, or slipping up her top as he pinched her nipple and laughed into her hair when she lets out a sexy whine with pouty lips. His friends and island-goers not knowing whether to look away or watch the show whenever Rafe felt like groping up his girl in public.
And it was quite often. Shamelessly.
Pride filling him when men and women can’t take their eyes off of her and fall to the way her perfect ass hangs out her dresses and skirts or is firmly accentuated by second skin body suits and jumpers. Or the way their eyes never fail to land on her chest as her pert nipples poke through thin cotton sundresses that stick to her damp glowy-skin in the summer heat or sheer tops that leave nothing to the imagination but a need for desire in their minds. Or the outliers who look at her like she’s a jezebel.
And does Rafe absolutely love it…
When his family throws a massive barbecue and his perfect temptation of a girlfriend is leaping around in her little turquoise micro-bikini and white cover-up wrapped around her perky, well rounded ass. Bottoms so far wedged up barely covering the sinful treat between her smooth thighs and top so tiny the sides of her tits were spilling out mouthwateringly with every cheery bounce as sexy giggles spilled from her sinful lips.
Her perfect face shaded by a huge white beach hat to match her impractical cover-up. Her little wedge sandals clacking as she runs around and talks to everyone.
That’s the thing Rafe loves about his girl the most.
Her sparkling personality and alluring finesse for speaking that leaves any one who talks to her nodding their head dumbly and looking at her with stars in their eyes. Her aptitude for flirting and capturing a crowds attention at the first syllable that drips from her perfect glossy lips.
So yeah, safe to say that Rafe has a nasty fixation on the way his captivating girlfriend draws attention at every corner she turns. A sexy little oblivious smile on her face as she walks through the world like she doesn’t know the way she leaves jaws hanging and heads whipping around.
Rafe doesn’t blame them, he doesn’t think he could have looked away from her if he tried the first time he laid his crazed-eyes upon her with an immediate claim and turning of cogs in his head on how exactly he was going to make that sexy little fairy who sparkled him in her magic the first night they met, his.
Cause he knows at the end of the day he’s the one who holds her hips down and knees to her chest as his hips beat into her with unadulterated passion. Leaving a creamy ring of their love wrapped around the base of his cock and dripping down between her cute ass and winking hole onto their egyptian cotton sheets.
He’s the one who caresses her soft cheek with infatuation and undivided attention as she presses cute kisses across his swollen, leaking tip. Hisses of praise and ‘put it in your mouth, don’t play with me. Been wanting that mouth wrapped around me all damn day.’ Falling from his swollen lips as his hips buck up. Her watery flirty eyes gleaming at him mischievously as she giggles and then presses her perfect nails into his abdomen before dragging them up with nasty red lines to flick his nipple with a bratty, ‘I’ll do whatever I want,” and bite to his thigh that makes him hiss, twitch and let out a shaky breathe.
And he’s definitely the one who bends her in front of the mirror in the men’s restroom at the Island Club with the door barely locked. Large hand gripping her scalp as his other hand presses the back of her knee into the counter and his hips smack into her ass loudly with wet ‘plaps’ of their arousal stringing them together every time he pulls away. Her gorgeous eyes rolling back and perfectly done makeup now a sweaty mess and rolling down the sides, plump swollen lips bitten and bruised from his need to devour her at any given moment and drool hanging from from the corner as pathetic mewls and cries fall from the brutal beating on her dripping pussy.
Her red-bottom mule stiletto barely hanging onto her cute foot as her other heel clacked on the floor with her pathetic, shaky efforts to hold herself up with the other leg, skirt pushed around her waist. Skin damp along with Rafe’s as she tries her very best to focus on him through teary love-filled eyes. Her sexy, hectic man holding his shirt between his teeth with a snarl and his strong abdomen clenching harshly with every pound as he gives out harsh claiming grunts from his exertion. Stringy curtain bangs sticking to his damp forehead as sweat drops down the side of his flushed sun-kissed face. But she can’t help the way her eyes keep rolling into the back of her head, as her lashes flutter from the snapping of his hips.
When his eyes snap up from watching the way her red, bruised ass jiggled sensually with each snap of his hips and watched the way their love kept them together in a sinful display of their mixed arousal. His lips dropped his baggy cotton button up and he takes the hand from the back her knee and wraps it harshly around her throat. A snarl forming on his face once more as he forces her to look at him with the rough grip on her scalp and a gruff…
“Look at me,” falling from his equally red, wet and swollen lips. Saying it even harsher when she failed to do so from the way he was fucking every single sense and thought out of her but him.
A mocking smile and, “there she is, there’s my stupid lil’ show off. Yeah yeah,” he shushes her whines mockingly when she listens to him the second time and forces her dumb brain to make herself look at him. “You knew what the hell you were doing out there. So shut the fuck up and take it, before you piss me off.” He spits out with a nasty tone and no room for arguments.
His hand leaving her throat to smack her damp once meticulously dazzling cheek before her gripped both of them in his fingers when she let out a bratty whine. “Na, don’t act dumb baby, know you like it. The way everyone looks at you, the way they want you.” A hiss falling from his lips as she clenches around him confirming his statement before a cocky chuckle follows right after. Nodding mockingly with a coo as he pulled her head more back and hushed her whines before meeting his lips with hers. His hips speeding up impossibly harder and claiming and definitely loud enough to be heard outside by anyone passing by.
Probably even all the way down to the main hall.
And when Rafe lets go of her swollen lips as he breathes into her mouth and she whines into his, their equally watery and passionate, love-filled eyes looking into one another when he pulls his head slightly back, all he says is..
“Fuck,” he spits out with a grit before continuing, “you’re lucky I like the way they look at you too. Now take that shit,” His words almost menacingly threatful as his hips and grip gain a new life force. Her body completely his and their mixed arousal starting to drip onto the floor as she produces even more slick. The loudest whine and mewl leaving her lips so far and when Rafe bends his head a little more to look down at her. Proud of the way she looks so pathetic under his whim as a hung smirk finds its way onto his handsome face he tells her with a demanding softness..
is mattheo the kind of boyfriend to admire sweetheart as she gets ready for the day/night and when she does her skincare like i can picture him just entranced with her fr
mattheo watches sweetheart!reader get ready
oh totally!! he’s staring with HEARTS in his eyes. i loved this idea <3 thank you for requesting it angel!!
masterlist
Only half of your hair is in rollers, the other half cascades down your shoulders, when you open the door.
“What the fuck! You’re early.” You squeal.
Mattheo smirks, walking past you and further into your room. “Hello to you too.”
Your eyes glance over at your phone, checking the time.
“You’re not supposed to be here for another hour.” You frown, he sits on the edge of your bed.
“Got bored waiting for 6 to come,” He says, “Figured I’d come bother you instead.”
“Okay,” You hum, “I’ll give you your very own ‘Get Ready With Me’ video, to practice for Vogue.”
“Sure, Baby.” He murmurs with a soft smile.
You sit back down in front of your vanity, putting the rest of your hair in curlers.
“Will you play some music?” You hum, he nods, taking your phone that was already connected to your little wireless speaker.
“No Deftones, please,” You say quickly, “I’m choosing happiness today.”
He laughs. “No Deftones.” He plays your shared Spotify Blend.
You finish the job of putting your hair into rollers when you move on to picking your outfit.
You go to your closet, Mattheo’s eyes follow your movements, you pick out two skirts.
“Ruffle long skirt or polka dot mini skirt.” You ask, he pretends to ponder, though he already has his answer.
“Polka dot mini skirt.” You beam at his answer, it’s clear he gave the correct answer.
“Thank you.” You hum, he smiles.
You lock the bathroom door before slipping into your dress, hair curlers still in.
When you emerge again, he’s sitting in front of your vanity, examining your makeup collection.
“What’s this?” He asks, lifting your eyelash curler between his fingers carefully like it’s a weapon.
“Eyelash curler.”
“This goes near your eye?” He asks.
You nod with a laugh. You stand in front of him, slotting yourself in between his legs.
You touch his face gently, brushing his eyelashes with your fingers.
“No fair, your lashes are so long.” You pout.
He chuckles. “I’d gladly give you them, if I could, Darling, I promise.”
“Thank you.” You coo.
You laugh. “Get off my chair, I need to finish my makeup.”
He smirks. “You could sit on my lap.”
You shove at his body, he doesn’t even budge. “Go sit on my bed.”
He stands quickly, a lazy smile on his face. "Yes Ma'am."
You bite back your smile, continuing with your steps to getting ready. You lift a brush to your face, adding blush to your cheeks.
“I love that pink cheek shit.” Mattheo says, you turn to face him, a little startled by his sudden commentary and his use of words.
“Do you mean blush.” You laugh.
He grins. “Yeah, s’cute.”
You finish the rest of your makeup, each step delicate and practiced. Mattheo turns so quiet, you’ve almost forgotten he was even there.
You catch his eye in the mirror as you apply your prettiest lip gloss, he’s looking at you like he’s mesmerised. Mesmerised isn’t dramatic enough of a word - he looks at you like he’s enamoured, like you’ve come to kill him (one pretty makeup look at a time) and he’s gladly surrendered to his fate.
“Hi.” You hum softly, laughing.
He smiles, slow and soft. “Hi Sweetheart.”
You stand from your vanity, making your way over to him. You stop until you’re right in front of his eye-line.
You do a slow spin. “How do I look!”
“Fuck, I can’t even think of a word.” He drawls, “You’re prettier than pretty and beautiful isn’t enough.”
“Stop it.” You giggle, doing another twirl, relishing in his attention.
“I mean it, you look like an absolute doll.”
You gasp, preparing to ask him another one of your nonsensical questions.
“If I was a doll and you saw me in a store, would you buy me?”
He nods, taking your question as seriously as you do. “Of course, I’d wrap you up in bubble wrap too, extra protection.”
You squint your eyes, preparing to challenge him. “Okay! But what if I was haunted.”
“Well then I’d gladly get haunted by you, Pretty Girl.”
WHAT'S THE GIG?... who could love a hoochie mama more than her devoted salaryman-sorcerer rehire?
featuring... hoochie-mama!reader x nanami
WHAT'S THE MOTION?... eventual SMUT. kinda fast-moving relationship. blk!reader(obviously).
luvrs note : a hoochie mama reader will always have my heart idk. + this was a ton of fun to write
nanami wouldn't've met you had it not been for gojo bein' an unpredictable, impenitent asshole. but nanami couldn't really complain - sure, he found you attractive. in fact, even before gojo got involved, he's always wondered how a girl like you wound up working an office job; even more so how you kept the job.
you always had a particular style. in every environment, you were always the one to stick out.
caramel skin, long and blinged out nails with rings that were somehow even bulkier with a brighter shine. arm cuffs and bangles galore. when you weren't wearing bangles, you wore beaded bracelets that never failed to announce your presence quietly.
huge hoops and thick necklaces were also something nanami found memorable about you.
all in all: you practically broke every rule and regulation of the company's policy. no long nails, no loose jewelry, no excessive makeup, and many more things he's memorized throughout his years of working.
you, one way or another, tore each of those down. and still kept your position.
well, not that it'd matter now.
you don't work there anymore.
in fact, soon after you and nanami got nice n' comfy with each other thanks to gojo, you quit.
why, might you ask?
well, because of nanami, of course.
"what you mean quit, kento?" you asked, hand on your hip as your jewelry rang out into your quiet, cramped, apartment. "i need this job, i can't afford -"
nanami shushes you gently, pressing a hand against the curvature of your waist and hip, thumb brushing at the leopard print inked deep into your skin.
"come live with me." he suggests, "i'll take care of you."
you hesitate for a beat, blinking with surprise. then, you soften, shaking your head softly at your boyfriend. "kento... you know i can't do that. i mean, look at me," you gesture to your jewelry, hair and clothes. "it'll take a fortune for you to care for all this. even more with the dates we already have every other week."
oh yes, how could he forget? your bi-weekly dates, which he hasn't missed since the two of you started having them several months ago. which he wouldn't let you worry about a damn thing if it wasn't your outfit or hair. which he'll take recommendations, but'll be damned if you planned something outside of a nail appointment for yourself. and even then, he made sure you didn't have to worry about that much.
"i don't see why you're complaining," nanami says. "i already take care of your maintenance."
you shake your head playfully, bamboo earrings following the movement. stray hair from your weave gets caught on your thick lip gloss, and you pull it off with a sigh. "no you don't, silly."
nanami hums. "humor me, when exactly was the last time you planned your own nail, hair, makeup, lash, or any other appointment in the last..." he checks his phone. "seven... no, eight months, now."
pausing, you genuinely think for a minute. and that minute stretches into two. then three, four, and you roll your eyes to ignore the upcoming five minutes of silence.
"okay... maybe you have a point." you mutter, biting your inner cheek.
of course he had a point. it was unbeknownst to you that each date was planned conveniently within the time you typically need a refill or new set of nails, a new lash appointment, and roughly around the same time you'd want a new hair style. and for the really big dates, he always ensured you had a professional do your makeup the way you wanted it. of course he did.
that's what made marrying the man so damn easy.
he spoiled you rotten the next four months you spent living with him. if you thought you were spoiled before, being a housewife was the easiest, softest thing you've ever experienced.
you kept your nails done without fail. you no longer broke one from closing a file cabinet hard or got it stuck in random nooks and crannies you didn't realize existed.
your hair continued to be done, more frequently than you expected. with the amount of free time you had and money nanami refused to stop giving you you had an entire mall as a closet.
so, when he woke you up with breakfast in bed and a newly tailored animal print dress and a set of heels to match that you hadn't known were released yet, you didn't think anything of it.
rookie mistake.
that day, you two spent the entire afternoon and late night together. you didn't even notice the time passing - first you went to a duck park, then a cute pottery class before eventually going out to a reservation he made for the two of you.
to you, this was a normal day. whenever he had off-days or days where he knew for sure he wouldn't have to go out to deal with curses and wonders of the world you didn't involve yourself with, this was how many of your afternoons were spent.
and in all honesty, you didn't notice you two were getting so close to the waterline of kamakura until nanami lifted you by your knees and waist and onto a nearby chair, slipping off your heels carefully.
nanami held your heels until the two of you found a relatively empty spot on the beach. then, he stopped you, pointing out a little crab he knew you'd find adorable.
in the midst of you interacting with it, he found his way behind you before calling your name.
"yes, ken - oh my god." you cut yourself off, eyes widening as you stepped back carefully. your hands came to your face, heart giving itself palpitations as you looked down at him.
a beautiful wedding ring sat in a competitively beautiful box.
it was obvious he had it hand-made - your birth stone sat in the very middle, surrounded by white diamonds and small pieces of his own birth stone, a slightly thicker steel band keeping it all together.
"will you marry me, my love?" his words come out smooth as butter, with a confidence that can only belong to the man below you.
you're nodding before you can get a word out, legs failing you as you sink into the sand and into his now open arms. tears fall quietly as you nod incessantly, little chants of "yes, yes, yes" escaping your lips.
gojo wasn't surprised to hear the two of you had gotten married a little over a year after dating. in fact, he was proud.
"do you know how long it usually takes for that grouch to get outta his shell?" gojo groaned, unwrapping a chocolate-covered caramel drop. "it's like seeing a late bloomer finally peak."
a laugh escaped as nanami groaned, running a long-tired hand down his face. "that's enough, gojo."
gojo only laughed, waving nanami off. "don't be embarrassed, nanamin! you know, if it weren't for me, you probably wouldn't have found 'er!"
"i'm reconsidering my decision." nanami says stiffly.
you rest a hand on your now fiancée's shoulder, classic bangles ringing out while your nails curl around his shoulder. "now, now. he's only joking, ken."
gojo blinks at the two of you, pulling his dark glasses up into his hair to get an unnerving clear view. "y'know, you two are a very unconventional pair."
his eyes move between the man in a business suit and the woman at his side - you - who may or may not have a love-hate relationship with wearing full clothing and simple jewelry.
nanami stiffens evermore, turning to you. "i'll find someone else."
"ken!" you insist, pushing your boulder of a soon-to-be husband toward his peer. "the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can actually leave."
with a sigh, nanami steps forward begrudgingly, meeting gojo's curious gaze. "i'd like you to be my best man."
it's quiet for a beat, gojo blinking with a rather blank expression before an ear-piercing gasp rings out. "nanamin!"
nanami turns on his heel, facing you. "i'm getting a migraine."
the two of you wasted no time in planning and organizing a wedding. or, rather, nanami did. of course he did. it was a no-brainer to him; you tell him what you want, he makes it happen. and with gojo by his side, dates and venues were practically guaranteed. from the reception and invitations to the after-party and honeymoon vacation, all it took was a word, and nanami handled it.
"did you enjoy everything, my love?" nanami's voice comes strained as he thrusts his hips against yours.
your dress tailored and personally made to your taste, making it a true one of one piece was bunched around your hips, layered and fluffed to your definition of perfection as nanami's cock made it's own personal space between your walls.
and no, it certainly wasn't the first time you two have gotten intimate, but it'd be a lie to say all eight inches of nanami wasn't always something to get used to.
and you were sure you've only taken six thus far.
still, that doesn't matter to nanami - and of all times he could ask for your feedback, he chose to do so now.
"yes," you whine, head falling back against the sunked in pillow. "yes, yes - was perfect, ken!"
babbles fall from your mouth about how everything was exactly how you imagined it in the four months it took to plan. from the venue to the reservation, the theme and music and speeches.
everything was perfect.
nanami kisses your temple, no longer minding your bamboo earrings poking against his cheekbone. "i'm so glad to hear that, my perfect wife." he hums, moving to kiss your forehead while he thrusts another determined inch into your weeping cunt. "why don't you - fuck - why not tell me what you enjoyed most?"
your eyes roll, more from pleasure than attitude, very tip of his cock knocking against your sure-to-be bruised cervix.
instead, your hand comes up to press against his pec, tiny whines getting louder as his hips drive further up into you.
taking your hand in his, he interlocks your fingers. "talk to me, my perfect wife." he says, "tell me what you enjoyed most."
I think the first reason you deserve worship for is controversial (me: Hey, there's no religion without controversy anyways) because you are in love with love. Not in the way you want or even earn to be loved. Not even about the beautiful feeling it breathes in you or the glorious distraction it creates. Nah, you're just a Casanova (yes, even if you are a woman). Yes, we can hate on the old myth because he could not fucking settle for the life of himself and was selling dreams to every other woman. On the other hand, what if we misunderstood his intention? Yes fuck up action, but what if all he ever wanted was to live in the constant chase of love? His goal was not to find one Dulcinea but to forever dance with love itself. The feelings that make people go to war, create new sets of rules or even break all morals. Instead of chasing for that one person, you enjoy the quest that is LOVE. For that, you may be the purest lover of them all.
On the other hand, especially if you consider yourself a woman, you enjoy taking care of yourself and letting people take care of you (sprinkle sprinkle). You have a beautiful balance of masculine and feminine energy in you. Enough feminine so you are so many people's muse and inspiration. Enjoying your feminine side, living a life full of intention. While never being scared of the hustle to get it. You don't mind putting in work to achieve a goal or even forcing yourself to follow a strict routine to achieve the discipline your psyche craves. Essentially, you don't wait for anyone to make a move. You got motion, not only do you create your own wave, you float on it with so much grace.
If anyone claims to want you, the only way for you to hear it is for them to praise. Me: Damn, babe, you don't play about your followers. You really run a strict program … Love that for you sista. If you aint here to yearn, pay the tab, be mesmerized by your mere existence … PLZ DO NOT COURT PILE 1. Babe, they won't even notice you. Also, you have no shame demanding such affection in connection because you aint wasting your precious energy on anything less than that. In your case, worship is the only fucking option.
You romanticize life to the T! The nuclear bomb could go off, and you still figure out a way to romanticize your life. It is not a coping mechanism for you to just accept anything; it's just that you know life is shit. So why fucking complain more? Like life already got you fuck up, so why should you allow it to ruin you? In a way, if life wants to be in a state of misery, that is on HER; that has nothing to do with you.
NO NATURAL BEAUTY HERE! Full face beat, hair extension or bleach, surgery if necessary to achieve the dream you have in your mind, bbl, boob job, nose job, fixing the teeth. Lashes and nails are always in perfect rotation. You may not eat, but that outfit is going to fucking serve. You don't hate on the natural babe, no shade but you love looking bimbo. You don't mind being a bit plastic because that's just the doll that you are. If anybody has an issue with it, they can kiss your perfect ass.
Essentially, if you want to be part of this babe religion, you must value…
Love
Dedication
Sovereignty
Discipline
Vanity
May the path to beauty and grace fill your soul up…
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PILE 2
First, you are a free thinker. Nobody can ever bully you out of your shit or even force you to do anything. Very bright babe, but if you don't want to, you ain't doing nothing to get it. A lot of people may take the way you act as a form of disrespect ( Me: I just heard: I can believe people's egos get so hurt over MY decision over MY LIFE! Like, if you care so much, go ahead and do it. AND no, I don't care if you are better than me, get out of my face and let me ENJOY MY LIFE! ). OK, nah, let it all out because people got you really fuck up. You don't bother anybody. You are out here supporting everybody's dreams, no matter how far-fetched they are. You do understand that some people can't understand your peace but that does not mean that it matters less than theirs. Maybe growing up, you are often just a good enough student when you could have easily been an honours kid, but the reality is that peer pressure, pressure or even punishment don't have any impact on your desire to achieve anything. Damn, you are a dictator's worst fucking nightmare. Your grades may not show it, and you do not care, but you are someone who enjoys looking at different perspectives, pondering on different philosophies and enjoying the art of truly observing and understanding that nothing is really black or white. Finding peace in it. The anchor that you have in your own self-belief since your youth is incredibly impressive, and for that, you are deserving of all the worship.
You don't hate love, but you don't need it to reach an orgasm. If you want some good dick, you ain't ashamed to ask for it. Purity culture hates to see you coming. Never be scared to go ask someone out first. Never care, will put your desire first above anyone's pretty little feelings because love is not really the cup of tea that quenches your thirst right now. That's fine. You don't care about people's opinions when it comes to how you dress or how you decide to interact with the world. Fuck being a proper woman, if you want to swear like a sailor than you shall. You don't care; you will post yourself twerking in your main story and get that degree on the same day. Because you do read and twerk. Just like any other human, you are capable of duality, and if people can't stomach it is on them because you never care enough to explain yourself any fiucking way!
No life plan. No, you don't know what you are going to do after college, no, you do not know what you are going to do in 2 weeks, no, you don't know what you are going to do in the next 24 hours, and YES YOU ARE TOTALLY AT PEACE WITH IT. You let life surprise you. You let your skills or even lack of guide you in the path that your soul feels more call too. Because if your spirit really need it than it shall follow it, so why stress. Got me thinking of the movie: Surf. When people kept asking the mom of Cody what's up with him, and he was like … Y’all leave me alone, I am Cody, and I am taking care of me. Y’all can go ahead and worry about yourself. While the world has conditioned us to find roots in predicament, you enjoy life the way it was always meant to be lived if Eve never eaten that damn apple. You live life the only way it is supposed to. Just to be lived is that simple.
Because at the end of the day, we are living on a floating rock in the middle of nowhere. Plus, nothing is really that fucking deep. You are deserving of all worship because for you, peace is above every damn thing!
Essentially, if you want to be part of this babe religion, you must value…
Free thinking
Honor your sexuality
Embrace life flow
Let go of any form of control.
If you are fine being always misunderstood, then you are meant to be forever enlightened when following the religion of pile 2 chérie d’amour.
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PILE 3
Awwww, babe, I am sorry … Pisces is not in Neptune anymore, and you are feeling it more than anybody. My delusion queen pile. That's how you maneuver life, and now with the new bitch in town (Aries in Neptune), you don't know how to feel. You guys are my dreamers, my weirds boy/girls, people with super niche hobbies and now the world wants you to be driven when all you enjoy is creativity. While others kill themself because they did not achieve their goal, you are just happy that the ‘’idea’’ has chosen you to bring it to life. You hope to honour it in the truest form because it is never about the destination. It has always been about the journey for you. A truth artistic soul. You find the art in everything. While the world spends its days hating on my humanities babe, you like to remind them that people remember a scent, a colour, a melody, a drawing, we rarely hold close to the heart the memory of the lab result we had in high school. Essentially, humanity lives to express themself no matter how hard society tries to strive for perfection. Our most beautiful moments were created because of the imperfections that we carry in our soul thus can never be recreated by any technology, no matter what!
Sisterhood & girlhood is the hill on which you are ready to die! You care for the next woman like your mother, your aunt, your grandmother, your ancestor or your daughter. It really matters to you for all to find their happiness. It would not surprise me if you enjoy diving into the occult because of the imprint of womanhood it has written all over it. You care for the stripper the same way you care for the stay-at-home mother. They all matter and all deserve to be heard. You take the time to understand born women while at the same time giving the stage to the dolls to be heard and not only being used for profit. You care for the women in western country fighting for the liberation of their bodies, the same way you understand the women in third countries whose body is being used and abused in child marriage. Because every women deserve to feel like she fucking matter no matter how she looks or in what she believes in. For that, you are worth all the worship sent your way.
You also very self obsess over yourself. Beauty standards have no impact on your spirit. You love your fupa, you love your hairy legs, you don't care if people see your scars, you will wear a bikini even if your boobs seem too big or your stomach too wide because you have given yourself the freedom to feel good, no matter how society feels about you. In a sense, that's your form of rebellion. You are not forcing anyone to love you because the way you dote on yourself is way more than enough. Since you are not asking to exist but decide that you are meant to be more than people assumption, you are worth all the praise.
On the other hand, you are a hopeless romantic. You are not ashamed that, even though you are such a strong believer in women's independence, you crave partnership almost as much. You crave having someone whispering little nothing in your ear, someone telling you how much they love and care for you, someone who is always going to support you, dote on you and make you the sun of their life. Your desire and respect for companionship are something worth worship in a world so obsessed with individuality. You highly value motherhood and daydream often of having your little family one day. Not in a way that is your ultimate fulfillment, but a goal of yours that is dear to your soul. To be gifted the ultimate gift of guidance for a new soul in this very questionable world (lol).
Essentially, if you want to be part of this babe religion, you must value…
Creativity
Community
Independence
Partnership
Girlhood
If you are fine being too sensitive for the world surrounding you, then you shall be gifted with powerful empathy following the religion of Pile 3 babes.
Want a personal reading or just want to enjoy more EXCLUSIVE content : KO-FI
Miyeong smiles, a little impishly. "You know, we have been calling him Hot Flower Dad for a reason..."
"Mm... And I guess he isn't wearing a ring..."
"Want to find out his Sunlight Sisters bias?"
My dude… you cannot leave it at that. Cmon, cough it up.
I can already see him going, “my bias was Celine before you abandoned her for wanting to take care of her baby.”
And a “ooooh buuuuuurnnnnn” can be heard from the back before three witch-like cackles ring through the store.
(In reference to this post about the deadbeat miyeong/transmasc celine worlds colliding)
So Miyeong and Thirdlight try to flirt their way into Hot Flower Dad's trust, and Celine is initially just slipping deeper and deeper into his own private nightmare. Not just because Miyeong and Thirdlight don't recognise him (although that hurts in itself, too - knowing that he loved Miyeong and Thirdlight so much, and would have said that they had once loved him too, only for them to look at him like a stranger) but because.
Because Celine didn't ever get to date, really. At first there was baby Rumi to take care of, the whole scandal meaning that nobody would have wanted to get near Celine to begin with, and then transitioning brought a new set of complications. Plus with starting his business, and then having to deal with Mira's family, and wanting to make sure he's always home at a reasonable hour to make sure the girls get a good dinner and to spend time with them as a family - well. The most he's managed to stretch to in a few years has been exchanging shy compliments with Zoey's mother, and even that came with months of worrying about whether it would be inappropriate, how much he needed to share about his former life, whether Rumi and Mira would be hurt if she took it badly and decided to stop Zoey from coming around, and whether it made him selfish to want anything more than being dad to his two brilliant daughters.
So Miyeong and Thirdlight are convinced they are in a romantic comedy of some sort. Zoey's mother is watching the guy she likes but couldn't commit to get seduced by internationally famous kpop duo the Sunlight Sisters, and thinking that she could never really compete with them anyway. Rumi, Mira and Zoey have already picked out their outfits for Celine & Zoey's mom's wedding (yes, before the parents are properly together, they bounce between being horrified that parents might date and also 'oohhh if they marry we will be sisters forever, and we'd get to have sleepovers every night!!') and they are not impressed the Sunlight Sisters are trying to take that away from them.
And Celine is just in the middle of this, dissociating out of sheer panic. He does not know what terrible things he has done to deserve this particular torture.
So let's assume that's all been going on for maybe a couple of months in which Celine is surprised that even more of his hair hasn't turned grey, before:
"Appa!" Mira yells down the stairs to him. "Appa, they've come back."
Celine groans and puts down the box of tissue paper he had been tidying away, moving to switch the sign in the door to 'Closed'. But Miyeong and Thirdlight have been expecting this, apparently, and Miyeong's hand slides in between the door and the frame before he can quite finish.
"Good afternoon," Miyeong says, tilting her head so that she can look up at him through her long lashes. She lowers her arm so that her fingertips graze the back of his hand, and Celine can't stop himself from flinching backwards. That gives her enough of an opening to step inside his shop fully, followed by Thirdlight.
(Distantly, as if he is outside himself watching this whole disaster play out on a screen, Celine thinks: Thank fuck Thirdlight isn't also batting her eyelashes at me.
Then she opens her coat, and he realises it is worse. Miyeong is dressed in pastels, looking sweet and demure in a way that almost makes him want to laugh; Thirdlight, on the other hand, has gone with a classic girl crush concept in a low cut shirt. He snaps his eyes back towards his floral displays, hoping that neither of them noticed him looking.)
"My apologies, ladies, I'm afraid I was just closing --"
"Oh, so formal!" Miyeong presses her front teeth into her bottom lip. Celine can feel his laughter - a bitter, ugly thing that wouldn't help anyone right now - bubble up inside his throat, and he does his best to shape it into a cough.
"It's OK, you can speak casually with us," Thirdlight tells him, and rests her hand on his lower arm. "We've been getting pretty close, haven't we?"
"I don't think---"
Miyeong mimics the gesture on his other arm. Her hand lands on the place where he's rolled his shirt cuff up to reveal his bare arm, and the sensation - the warmth of her skin against his own, the familiarity of her calloused palm - causes him to lose track of what he was about to say. He sees her smile at that, like she's scored a point; if Celine were perhaps a little more reckless, he would like to explain to her that it isn't affection which makes him pause, but a kind of grief that the two people he loved most in the world had never known him well enough to see him as himself.
The two people he used to love most in the world, that is.
"Appa, I can't find my--" Rumi clatters down the stairs and into the room, bursting through the door just as all three adults pull apart. The smile drops from her face immediately. "Oh. I didn't know you still had customers."
(Behind her, Mira's face peers down the banister, checking whether their distraction had done its job. Celine has never loved his girls more.)
"Oh, we're friends of your appa's," Miyeong tells her, and Rumi raises one single eyebrow, unimpressed.
"I like his other friend more," Rumi tells her, then turns to Celine. "I need a calculator."
"There's one in my office."
Rumi doesn't head back there though, just hoists herself up onto the stool behind the counter and pulls out her phone, looking bored of the Sunlight Sisters' presence already.
"...If there's nothing else, perhaps I could show you..?"
"Actually," Thirdlight says. "There is something else. Uh. Something. Yes. There's something else that we would like."
Thirdlight and Miyeong exchange a look between themselves that Celine can still read, both of them urging the other to think of something.
"Flowers!" Miyeong offers, just as Thirdlight says "Dinner?"
(Rumi's fingers slip from her phone as she looks up at that and pulls a face.)
"I can sell you one of those things," Celine says.
Thirdlight and Miyeong both laugh at that, the same airy laugh he's heard them pull out in interviews and nightclubs alike. The one that means they didn't find it that funny, really, but they want to make some guy feel important.
"And then maybe we could go eat together," Thirdlight is saying. She's venturing a little closer now, despite Rumi's presence, and Celine has to take a few small steps backwards to try and maintain the same distance between them. "You could bring your daughters, if you want?"
"We don't eat food," Mira calls from down the hall.
Rumi nods supportively. "We photosynthesise."
Miyeong recovers more quickly than Thirdlight does, and gives another of her fake laughs, touching Celine's shoulder as she does. That's the moment that the shop door swings open again, this time revealing Zoey and her mother, Park Insuk. Insuk's eyes narrow as she sees, in order: Thirdlight's shirt, Miyeong's hand, the wild-eyed panicked expression on Celine's face.
"I missed you, step-appa!" Zoey says, and flings herself into Celine's arms with such sudden velocity that her schoolbag accidentally swings into Miyeong's head.
Insuk looks almost as surprised as Celine feels. "Step-appa..? Zoey, no, that's not right..."
"Not yet," Zoey chirps, happily settling onto her perch on Celine's hip. (This is nice, being able to carry one of his girls again - Rumi insists she's far too old for it now, and since she says it's true then Mira has to follow. But the feeling of her little arms around his neck is grounding, and he notices the way she wriggles to put as much of herself between Celine and the Sunlight Sisters as possible.) "But soon, right?"
Insuk glances between her daughter, Celine's daughters and internationally renowned pop sensation 'The Sunlight Sisters' and leans over to press a light kiss against Celine's cheek. "Soon enough," she says firmly, and it's like she's marking her territory.
Thirdlight and Miyeong exchange another look. "Well, congratulations," Miyeong says.
"Oh, yeah, of course," Thirdlight says, and then pretends to have an idea. "Hey, your daughters are all so cute and charming--"
"I am not," Mira yells.
"--And spirited," Thirdlight continues without missing a beat.
Miyeong nods. "Yes, they're so charismatic." She glances over towards Rumi, who is miming vomiting into a plant pot behind her back to make Zoey laugh.
"Do any of you girls like dancing or singing, maybe..?"
"Nope."
"Nuh-uh."
"I love it!" Zoey squeals.
Insuk sighs. "Girls, go play upstairs. Your appa and I need to finish off this conversation."
Celine sets Zoey down, and she plants a loud smacking kiss on his cheek as he does.
When the girls are safely out the room, Insuk turns to Miyeong and Thirdlight. "Our girls are talented. And charismatic, and wonderful, and they would be amazing idols one day, I'm sure of it. But I will never - as long as I breathe - let Zoey, or any of those poor girls, anywhere near Sunlight Entertainment."
Miyeong and Thirdlight look physically struck by that. Even Celine winces - he knows, he's seen the press, that they've both done a lot to try and give their trainees a better foundation than the one the three of them had.
"I assure you, Sunlight Entertainment is industry-leading when it comes to promoting the wellbeing of all our girls--"
"Just as long as that girl never makes a mistake," insuk interrups. Her voice shakes a little with anger. "Yes, I remember how Kang Celine was treated for wanting to keep her daughter. It was years of interviews, and news articles, and Internet comments, all saying the most vile insults. And now you're talking to two single parents, who had to raise their daughters in the midst of that -- hearing from everywhere that their family was something shameful, disgusting, that it would be better if kids like them were never born?
"No. I love my daughter, I can't in good conscience allow her to be treated like that. And god forbid one of the girls has to deal with a similar situation when they're older - the whole country has seen how cruelly you would treat her. How could I ever trust either of you with a child I love?"
After Miyeong and Thirdlight make their excuses and leave, Insuk turns to Celine.
"I didn't want to speak out of turn," she says, not quite apologising for it all the same.
"No, you were..." Words fail him, so Celine settles for taking one of her hands and squeezing it gently, hoping that she can feel how much it meant to him.
(Miyeong and Thirdlight make the journey home in silence, both brooding over what happened.
Just as they're getting out of the car, Thirdlight turns to Miyeong and says, "Hey, didn't the press release just say that Celine had a baby..?"
Miyeong, whose thoughts were elsewhere, takes a second to respond. "What do you mean?"
"Just," Thirdlight says, frowning as she does. "How did that lady know the baby was a daughter?")
Warning:smut, degradation, spit in mouth, spanking, choking, mirror play, possessive!felix, overstimulation, exhibition risk, happy trail thirst, dom!felix, dumbification, reader in gold outfit, backstage sex, cum on dress
300 follower event
A/N: So that middle pic was actually my SKZ concert outfit, and I had Jeongin standing right in front of me — his arms were seriously so firm(I touched them lol). Also, Chan held my hand 😚😚. Felix, my friend, and I kept giggling and pointing at each other for a bit, and then later he just mocked me for crying and laughed about it.(also yes this is a tiny bit of a self insert with the gold outfit but this is my story so..)
You were second row to the barricade, but he only saw you.
The gold outfit you wore shimmered under the lights — something he’d seen you put on in the hotel mirror hours earlier, his hands all over you as he teased, “You’re really gonna wear that and expect me to focus onstage?”
And now here you were — pressed up against the barrier, cheering with the crowd, but your eyes locked on him. Lix in his white cropped jacket that barely clung to his shoulders, open all the way down, and those damn pants riding so low it was criminal. His hips moved with the beat, his abs flexing, and right there — just below his navel — the dark line of hair you knew very well peeked out.
His happy trail.
And yeah, you gasped. Maybe whimpered.
He caught it. Mid-song, mid-performance, he glanced your way, lips twitching in a smirk that was so cocky, so him. It said: I know exactly what you’re thinking.
You were wet. Just from that.
After the final encore, the minute you were cleared to head backstage, you practically ran. You knew where to go — his dressing room, same as always.
He was already there, shirtless, sweat-slicked, hair damp from the show. He looked up when you entered and smiled like he’d been waiting just for you.
You shut the door behind you.
“Enjoy the show?” he asked, voice hoarse from yelling over the crowd.
You nodded, stepping closer. “You were unreal.”
His gaze swept over your body again, hungry and unashamed. “You know what seeing you in that outfit did to me?”
You swallowed. “You were the one showing off your happy trail like that.”
His grin turned dark. “My girlfriend’s front row. Of course I’m showing off for her.”
And then he was on you.
Mouth on yours, hands in your hair, tugging, pulling, backing you up until your back hit the door. His hands roamed your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through the thin fabric, hips pressing against yours.
“Been thinking about your mouth on me all night,” he whispered against your neck. “Could barely focus.”
“You did fine.”
His fingers slid down your back, gripping your ass, pulling you flush against him. “Yeah, but now I want you to do something about it.”
Your hands slipped down his abs, stopping right at the waistband of those low-slung pants.
You looked up at him through your lashes. “Want me to follow that happy trail, baby?”
He hissed through his teeth, voice gone ragged. “Get on your knees, pretty girl.”
And you did — slow, teasing, watching him twitch inside his pants.
Because you were his.
And he was yours.
And tonight, that trail led straight to heaven.
You sink to your knees slowly, dragging your nails lightly down his abs just to feel the way his muscles jump beneath your touch. His eyes darken, jaw clenched, chest still rising and falling from the performance — but now, it’s for you.
“You know exactly what that look does to me,” he growls, voice low and thick with need.
Your lips curve into a smile. “You like when I look up at you like this, baby?”
“Fuck, yes. Look so pretty when you’re about to ruin me.”
You tug at his waistband and he helps you, pushing his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free — thick, flushed, already leaking. You lick your lips, wrapping one hand around the base and teasing your tongue along the underside, tracing that sensitive vein slowly.
He watches, eyes locked on you. “That’s my good girl. Just like that.”
You swirl your tongue around the tip and he groans, one hand burying in your hair, guiding you — not rough yet, just possessive. You take him deeper, inch by inch, until your throat starts to tighten.
“Fuck, baby… yeah. Take it. I know you can.”
He’s breathing heavy, hips twitching forward. When your eyes start to water, he lets out a breathless laugh — not mean, but taunting. “Crying already? Haven’t even really started yet.”
He pulls you off with a wet pop, and before you can speak, he hauls you up to your feet, spinning you to press your chest against the vanity table. The mirror fogs with your breath. You’re panting, dress wrinkled from the way he’s bunching it up over your ass.
“You come back here after watching me like that, with those needy little eyes,” he growls behind you, dragging your panties down your thighs, “and you think I’m not gonna make a mess out of you?”
“Please,” you whisper. “I need you so bad, Lix.”
“Yeah?” He slides two fingers through your soaked folds. “Dripping for me already. You’re such a desperate little slut for this dick, huh?”
You moan, pushing your hips back against his hand.
“Oh, you love that. You like when I talk to you like that?” he teases, slipping two fingers inside you. “Nasty little thing. All this gold and glitter, but you’re just my dirty girl underneath.”
You whimper, and he chuckles darkly, pulling his fingers out and giving your ass a sharp slap that echoes in the dressing room. You cry out, arching instinctively.
“Count it,” he orders.
“One…” you breathe.
Another slap, harder. “Two!”
He soothes the sting with a gentle rub, then does it again. “Three—!”
Then you feel it — the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
“Ready?” he murmurs, but it’s a dare, not a question.
“Yes, please, fuck—”
He thrusts in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. You scream his name, knuckles white as you grip the edge of the counter.
“Goddamn,” he groans into your neck. “Tight little pussy, made for me.”
He doesn’t wait. He starts slamming into you, rough and fast, hips snapping against your ass as your body rocks forward with every thrust. The slap of skin fills the room, filthy and raw.
“Take it,” he growls. “Take all of it. Look at yourself — fucked dumb already. That all it takes? My cock inside you?”
You nod, unable to speak.
He wraps a hand around your throat, pulling you upright until your back arches against him. His grip is firm but careful — enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you wetter.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Good girl. You’re my perfect little whore, huh?”
“Yours,” you gasp. “Always yours.”
“Damn right.”
His other hand snakes down between your thighs, rubbing tight circles on your clit while he still pounds into you from behind. Your legs are shaking. You’re spiraling.
“Lix, I’m gonna—”
“Come on, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum all over my cock.”
The choke, the rhythm, the words — it crashes over you in a violent, shattering wave. You cry out, trembling in his arms as your orgasm pulses through your whole body.
He fucks you through it, chasing his own high.
“Shit, you feel too good— I’m gonna—”
He pulls out just in time, groaning as hot ropes of cum paint your ass and thighs. He stares at you, breathless, fucked out, dripping.
You look up at him in the mirror, dazed, messy, glowing.
He leans down and kisses your shoulder softly — a complete contrast to everything he just did to you.
“Still my golden girl,” he murmurs.
You smile through the haze. “Yours. Always.”
You’re still bent over the dressing room vanity, legs weak, heart racing, his cum slowly dripping down the back of your thighs. Lix stands behind you, hands on your hips, chest rising and falling, his cock still twitching as he tries to catch his breath.
The room smells like sweat, sex, and the faint cologne he always wears on stage.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, kissing the back of your neck. “I’m obsessed with you.”
You smile, dazed. “You better be after that.”
He grins, gently pulling your dress back down over your ass and tucking himself back into his pants. “You okay?”
“Mhm.” You wobble a bit when you stand, and he catches you, smirking. “Okay ish. You wrecked me.”
“You love it,” he teases, handing you a towel to clean up.
“I do,” you admit shamelessly, wiping between your thighs. “But we’re seriously pushing it. Someone could’ve walked in.”
He shrugs. “Door was locked.”
Just as you’re stepping into your heels again, there’s a sudden knock on the door.
“Hyung! They need you for wrap-up photos in five!”
Your eyes go wide.
“Shitshitshit—” you whisper, frantically trying to fix your hair, your lipstick, anything.
Lix laughs under his breath and grabs his cropped jacket from the floor, still unbuttoned but enough to pass for decent. “Relax. You look like you just got railed in the best way possible. You’re glowing.”
You slap his chest. “Not helping.”
He smirks and presses a kiss to your lips, still tasting like sin. “Stay here, I’ll handle it.”
You hear him open the door just a crack.
“Yeah, give me a minute, I’m changing,” he says casually. “Tell them I’m coming.”
You mouth I’m coming? at him with a wide-eyed look.
He bites back a grin and shrugs like, what can I say? Then he shuts the door again and leans back against it, looking at you with that same filthy post-fuck expression.
“They totally heard something,” you whisper.
He walks toward you, wraps his arms around your waist, and smirks. “Then let ’em wonder who had me like this.”
You roll your eyes, still flushed, still buzzing. “You’re the worst.”
“Correction,” he murmurs, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I’m the best you’ve ever had.”
