#˚⊱𖥸⊰˚ — watch them grow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mssalo · 2 months ago

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Hummingbird - Part: II

Summary: In the quiet town of Jackson, Joel becomes consumed by a dark and overpowering obsession with his new neighbor. What begins as fascination quickly spirals into something much darker as he loses control over his desires.

11k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dark!Joel, obsessive!Joel, manipulation (emotional and psychological), gaslighting, power imbalance, age gap (not specified), stalking, dubious consent, daddy kink, breeding kink, possessive behavior, noncon elements, oral (pussy eating), unprotected PIV, creampie, voyeurism, possessivel controlling dynamics, trauma exploitation, Joel using your vulnerabilities against you, power play, obsessive desires, Joel blurring lines between protection and ownership. Joel is a huge red flag and reader has major daddy issues. Enjoy!

long&intense

Here's Part I.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

Joel’s days had settled into a new rhythm, one that orbited around you.

Every moment spent outside Jackson’s walls, on the lookout for threats, was consumed by a burning impatience to return. The dangers he once faced with such resolve now seemed trivial compared to the intense need he felt for you. His thoughts were constantly on you, wondering what you were doing while he was gone. He imagined your gentle smile as you taught the youngest children in the settlement.

His patrols, once a predictable routine, now felt like an unwelcome interruption—an unwanted separation from the focus of his obsession.

You.

And now, he was determined to make you love him.

When he wasn’t on patrol, Joel made excuses to cross paths with you. He’d drop by the schoolhouse under the pretense of checking on repairs or offer to carry supplies for you.

At first, you were taken aback by his attention—after all, the quiet, gruff man who led patrols through the wilderness outside Jackson wasn’t exactly known for being sociable. But your innocence worked in his favor. You didn’t question why he lingered a bit too long when you spoke or why his gaze followed you so intently whenever you were near.

“Mr. Miller,” you greeted him one afternoon, flashing that soft, sweet smile that stirred something dark in him. “Here again?”

“Just Joel,” he corrected, his voice low and rough as he leaned against the doorframe of the classroom. “Figured I’d check in. See if y’all needed anythin`.”

You laughed lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Always so helpful. I think we’re good today, but thank you.”

Joel’s eyes wandered to the children seated on the floor around you, their attention fixed on makeshift toys. He watched as one of the toddlers tugged at your dress, seeking your attention.

You were made for this. Made to be a mother.

He had seen you with them, crouched down, your voice soothing as you explained lessons or comforted tearful faces.

The way the children gathered around you, their trust unwavering, only heightened his primal urge. There was something about the way you nurtured and cared for them—the tender touch, the encouraging words—that stirred a desire in him beyond mere lust.

The sight of you, so gentle and attentive, sparked a deep, almost possessive longing in him. He imagined you with a child of your own. His child. The fantasy of you, swollen with his baby, your body soft and round, consumed him.

Joel pictured you in your small home, barefoot and glowing, your belly growing larger with each passing day.

The thought twisted something deep inside him, merging his desire with a possessiveness that bordered on madness.

You were too pure, too kind to grasp it, but Joel knew. You were meant for him—to bear his children, to belong to him in every sense.

His gaze darkened as he envisioned taking you right then and there. To bend you over one of the small desks, your soft curves pressed against the rough wood, his hands gripping your hips as he filled you—over and over.

The thought nearly overwhelmed him, the raw, primal urge almost too strong to control.

His hands flexed at his sides, clenching and unclenching as he fought for control. This wasn’t the time. Not yet. You weren’t ready. You still smiled at him with those innocent eyes, unaware of the dark hunger building inside him.

Joel wanted more than to claim you physically—he wanted to own every part of you. He wanted your mind, your heart, your body. He wanted you to be consumed by him the way he was by you.

He could wait. He’d be patient.

For now.

“Joel?” Your sweet voice cut through his haze, pulling him back to the present.

He blinked, realizing he had been staring. Your eyes met his, and you tilted your head slightly, concern touching your features. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, clearing his throat, his voice thick with a rough edge. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You smiled again, that same sweet, innocent smile that made his blood boil, completely unaware of the filthy thoughts running through his mind. You were so trusting. So naive.

Joel forced himself to return your smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“If you need anything,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “anything at all, you just let me know, alright?”

Your smile widened, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. “I will. Thank you, Joel.”

He nodded, turning to leave before his control slipped any further. As he walked away, he felt the weight of your gaze on his back, innocent and oblivious. He clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he stepped out into the cold air. His cock already throbbing again. His mind raced with plans, ideas forming and reforming. You were going to be his—he was going to make sure of it.

But first, he had to make you need him as much as he needed you.

· · ────────

In the weeks that followed, Joel's plan took shape with meticulous intent. Every interaction was calculated, every word carefully chosen to weave himself deeper into your life.

He began lingering outside the schoolhouse after his patrols, finding small tasks to do—fixing a loose door hinge, offering to carry supplies.

Always nearby. Always watching.

You began to smile at him more often, a soft glow in your eyes whenever he appeared.

Joel knew he was becoming a part of your routine, a constant presence you started to rely on without even realizing it.

The simple greetings, the quiet moments—each one brought you closer to him.

You started seeking him out.

You’d ask him for help with things around the house, questions about Jackson, and slowly, unknowingly, you let him into your world. Joel played the part of the dependable neighbor with ease, masking the deeper hunger that burned underneath.

It wasn’t just about being near you anymore. It was about making sure you needed him—emotionally, physically.

He wanted to become the one person you couldn’t live without.

One late afternoon, he found you sitting on the porch of your house, the sun casting a soft, golden light over everything. You had a worn notebook in your lap, absently humming a soft, familiar tune as you scribbled something down.

The sound was sweet, gentle, and it tugged at something deep inside Joel. He paused for a moment, just watching you, captivated by the way the melody seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace.

When you finally noticed him, your face lit up, and his chest tightened at the sight.

“Hey, Joel,” you greeted him with a soft smile, the tune fading into the quiet evening.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice rougher than usual as he approached, the wooden porch creaking under his weight when he sat down beside you. “What’re you workin’ on?”

You glanced down at your notebook, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, just some lesson plans for the kids. Busy day.”

Joel’s gaze softened as he watched you.

The way the light caught the soft strands of your hair, the way you absentmindedly tapped your pencil on the edge of the notebook—everything about you was so gentle, so perfect.

His hand twitched at his side, aching to reach out and touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

Instead, he kept his voice steady, though the desire simmered just beneath the surface.

“You’re good with them. The kids, I mean.”

You smiled again, a little shyly this time, the compliment making you blush just slightly. “Thanks. I try.”

The way you smiled at him, the trust in your eyes—it was all he needed to know that his plan was working.

You were beginning to let your guard down, to lean into his presence. Every time you looked at him like that, so open and unaware, it drove Joel further into his obsession.

my pretty little hummingbird.

The melody of your earlier humming lingered in his mind as he sat next to you, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you all to himself—to be the one to hear you hum as you moved about your shared home, maybe with a child cradled in your arms.

The image of you, round with his child, your body soft and full, made his heart pound, once again.

He wanted that. He wanted everything with you.

You had no idea just how deeply he wanted to be your everything, just like you were becoming his.

For now, he would keep playing the part of the protector, the one you could count on.

But it wouldn’t be long before he’d make sure you needed him just as much as he needed you.

He could already see the shift—the way you sought him out more, the way your eyes softened when they met his, how you were humming more often, especially when you were near him, like you were already growing comfortable in his presence.

You were slipping into his grasp, slowly but surely.

And soon, you’d realize just how much you needed him—how much you craved the protection and the stability he offered.

He watched as you turned back to your notebook, your lips parting slightly as you absentmindedly hummed again, lost in thought.

Joel clenched his fists at his sides, the desire to claim you in every possible way nearly overwhelming. But he could wait.

For now.

· · ────────

That same evening, as the two of you sat on the small, worn sofa in your living room, the air between you seemed heavier, more intimate.

Joel was sitting close, the warmth of his body radiating toward you as the low light from a nearby lamp flickered softly against the walls.

There was a strange comfort in his presence, a grounding sense that you hadn’t expected to feel. Yet there he was—always there.

You hadn’t planned to talk about it, not with Joel, not with anyone.

But something about the quiet of the evening, and the way he sat so close, made you feel safe enough to let it out.

You shifted, pulling your knees up onto the couch, hugging them slightly as you stared at the floor.

“My father… I don’t talk about him much,” you began, your voice low, almost a whisper.

Joel didn’t interrupt. He just listened, his fingers barely grazing your arm, his touch subtle, steady.

He was patient, waiting for you to open up.

“He was never really the same after my mom died. He was… distant, like he was there, but at the same time, he wasn’t. I kept trying to reach him, to get him to see me, to just… care.” You paused, the lump in your throat growing harder to swallow.

“But no matter what I did, no matter how hard I fought for his attention, for his approval, he just... pulled away more.”

Joel’s fingers tightened slightly around your arm, his silent way of telling you he was there, listening. Right?

“We survived together for a while, just the two of us, after everything fell apart. He wasn’t much of a father by then, more like… just someone I had to follow, to keep up with. I was always trying to prove myself to him, to show him I could handle it. But it was exhausting.”

Your voice broke for a moment, and you felt your breath catch in your chest.

Joel shifted closer, his arm resting behind you on the back of the sofa, offering you the comfort of his presence without a word.

“And then… he died,” you whispered, the pain of the memory washing over you like a wave.

“We were out there in the wilderness, trying to survive, just like always. He got hurt, and I tried—I tried so hard to save him, to keep him alive.

A silent tear slipped down your soft cheeks, "But, again, it wasn’t enough. I wasn't enough. He died, and then he really left me. For good.”

A shudder went through you as you recalled those final moments, the coldness of his absence washing over you again.

"He left me, Joel. After everything. I was so alone after that. Completely abandoned.”

You took a shaky breath, the weight of your confession settling between you. "The anniversary of his death is soon."

You could feel the weight of the silence between you, the raw emotion of the confession hanging in the air.

You hadn’t spoken those words aloud to anyone, not since it happened. The loneliness, the helplessness—it had all stayed locked away inside you for so long.

Joel’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb stroking the back of it in slow, soothing circles.

He shifted slightly, moving closer to you on the couch until his thigh pressed firmly against yours. His other arm, warm and strong, wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you toward him with a gentle but insistent force.

“Come here, sweet girl,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with that unmistakable Southern drawl that had become so comforting.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, your head resting against his chest.

The solid weight of him, the quiet rise and fall of his breathing, made you feel grounded in a way that nothing else had. His fingers tangled in your hair, stroking lightly as he held you close.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that,” Joel whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“Your father… he should’ve seen how hard you fought for him. But he didn’t. He failed you.”

The words struck a chord deep inside, and you felt another tear slip down your cheek, quickly absorbed by Joel’s shirt as he held you tighter.

He made it sound so simple, so black and white, and in this moment, it was comforting to believe that maybe it really had been that way.

· · ────────

He’d watched you closely in the weeks that followed, noting your increasing need for support, how you seemed to lean on him more and more.

It was all part of his plan, a strategy to make you depend on him, to crave his presence in ways you hadn’t before.

He saw the cracks in your composure, the way your smiles were less frequent, and how your gaze held a kind of forlorn hope whenever he was near.

And then he began.

Joel had put his plan into motion, slowly pulling away over the past week—just enough to make you feel the cold sting of his absence.

The timing wasn’t random; the anniversary of your father’s death was looming, and he knew the weight of that grief would come crashing down on you.

It was the perfect moment.

He could see it already in your face, the way sadness mixed with confusion, the subtle flickers of desperation as you searched for his familiar presence.

You leaned on him more in those days leading up, seeking comfort, but now, with him gone, you were left alone again, the emptiness creeping in.

Joel understood what that feeling of abandonment could do—it would remind you of the ache of being left behind.

But this time, instead of pushing you away completely, it would draw you closer to him.

You’d start to wonder where he was, why he wasn’t there, and with each passing day, your need for him would grow stronger.

And that’s exactly what he wanted.

The power of it fueled something dark inside him, but Joel didn’t flinch from it. It wasn’t cruelty, he told himself.

It was necessity.

· · ────────

The night of the anniversary, he knew you’d be at your most vulnerable. The idea of you coming to him, desperate and broken, fed his twisted satisfaction.

And sure enough, as he watched you from his porch, he saw you approaching his house, your posture hunched and hesitant, your eyes red from crying.

You were exactly where he wanted you: fragile, yearning for comfort, and completely under his control.

When you knocked on his door, your voice barely more than a whisper, Joel paused deliberately, savoring the moment.

His face stayed cold for a beat longer, a flicker of something darker dancing behind his eyes.

He knew it was you—he had expected this.

The satisfaction of your inevitable need for him made his chest tighten, not with tenderness, but with a twisted sense of control.

His mind wandered briefly, picturing you on the other side of the door—fragile, vulnerable, and craving him in the way he wanted.

The image sent a rush through him, his hand flexing at his side before he reached for the doorknob.

Joel knew what you would look like, how you would be standing there with those wide, innocent eyes, pleading silently for comfort.

It was exactly where he wanted you.

As he turned the handle and slowly opened the door, his gaze traveled over you, drinking in every detail.

You were wearing one of those soft, simple dresses he loved—the kind that hugged your curves in just the right way, brushing against your thighs.

The fabric clung to your chest, outlining the subtle rise and fall of your breath.

Your hair, slightly tousled, framed your face, and the way the fading evening light touched your skin made you look even more delicate. Almost ethereal.

Joels eyes lingered on your body a little too long before he forced them back to your face, taking in the sadness in your eyes.

You were so beautiful like this—small, fragile, clearly aching for someone to hold you.

The thought of you being this broken, this dependent on him, sent a pulse of something darker through his veins and all his blood rushing to his cock.

He let a slow breath out through his nose, shifting his expression into something softer, more concerned.

But underneath that, there was a twisted thrill.

You didn’t even realize how much you needed him, how perfectly you were falling into the trap he had set.

"Hey," he said, voice low and calm, his gaze flicking up and down your body before settling back on your face. "You alright?"

But the way his eyes darkened just a fraction as they swept over you again hinted at more.

His need to consume you was barely hidden beneath the surface, masked only by the false tenderness he had learned to wear so well.

You hesitated, a mix of hurt and confusion on your face.

“I… I don’t understand,” you said, stepping over the threshold and into Joel’s home, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

“You’ve been so distant lately. I thought—” Your gaze flicked up to him, pleading for answers. “I thought we were closer than this.”

Joel closed the door behind you with a deliberate, measured movement.

His eyes followed your every action, noting the way you hesitated at the entryway, clearly unsettled.

The sight of you, standing there with your heart exposed, only intensified his dark satisfaction.

He could see the raw need in your eyes, the desperate hope that he might provide the comfort you were seeking.

“Come on, baby,” he said softly, his voice laced with a false warmth that barely masked his true intentions. “Sit down. Let’s talk.”

As you settled onto the couch, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap, Joel took a seat beside you, his proximity charged with a subtle tension.

His gaze remained steady, almost predatory, as he observed the way your defenses were weakening.

The dim light in the room cast a soft glow over you, highlighting the vulnerability in your features.

Joel’s eyes lingered on the curve of your profile, the way your shoulders seemed to slump in defeat.

For a moment, he stayed quiet, eyes flicking down to where your fingers fidgeted in the fabric of your dress.

Then, in a voice that was strangely soft, he broke the silence.

"I thought maybe..." He paused, his jaw tightening slightly as if weighing his words carefully. "I thought maybe you'd gotten too used to me."

His words caught you off guard, and your eyes shot up to meet his. "Too used to you?" you echoed, confusion evident in your tone.

Joel nodded slowly, his expression shifting to one of thoughtful hardness.

There was something in his eyes, a shadow of frustration mixed with a dark calculation.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “Maybe I’ve just been around too much. Maybe you’ve been handling things just fine on your own.”

His gaze was steady, almost penetrating, as he watched your reaction.

You could feel the weight of his words, a subtle threat hidden in the casual tone.

The idea that he might pull away, leave you to handle things alone again, seemed both daunting and unsettling.

“Joel, I didn’t mean—” you started to say, but he cut you off, leaning in closer.

His hand rested on your thigh, his touch a mix of warmth and intensity, grounding yet unsettling.

“I’ve been thinking,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “about how you’re managing. Maybe you don’t need me as much as I thought. Maybe it’s time I stepped back and let you handle things on your own. Alone.”

The way he spoke made you feel the absence of his presence even more acutely.

His hand on your thigh was a stark contrast to the coldness in his words, a reminder of what you could lose.

Joel’s gaze remained locked on yours, his expression a careful mix of concern and something darker.

Joel’s fingers traced a small, deliberate path on your thigh, each touch a reminder of his influence and control.

“Maybe it’s time I let you prove it. All on your own”

As his words sank in, a rush of fear and vulnerability overwhelmed you.

You felt a cold, biting loneliness creeping in.

The memory of being abandoned, left alone in a world that felt hostile and unforgiving, came rushing back.

“Please, don’t leave me alone,” you pleaded, your voice trembling. “Not again. Not like this.”

The desperation in your voice was raw, a stark reminder of the pain from your past.

Joel’s expression softened ever so slightly, though the darkness still lingered in his eyes.

He watched as you struggled, the fear of abandonment triggering old wounds.

You could see the glint of something almost satisfied in his gaze, a cruel sort of pleasure at the way you were unraveling before him.

His hand on your thigh remained steady, a reminder of what you stood to lose if he followed through on his threat.

Joel leaned in, his voice a whisper of false reassurance. “I don’t want to see you suffer, baby. I just need to know you really want me here. That you need me.”

"You don’t know how much I need you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The words came out before you could stop them, a slip of your guard that Joel pounced on immediately.

He smiled, but there was nothing soft about it. "Yeah?"

His thumb, again, began to trace slow circles against your thigh, the touch deceptively gentle, though the look in his eyes was anything but.

"Because, baby, I’ve been needing you. More than you realize."

His voice dropped lower, and he shifted closer, his presence suffocating in its intensity.

"And I’ve been thinking... maybe you didn’t want me the same way. Maybe I pushed too hard, too fast."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off again, his hand moving from your thigh to cup your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"But I get it now," he murmured, his voice dark and possessive. "I see it. You need me just as much. You’re just afraid to admit it."

His words hung in the air, heavy and laced with meaning, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Joel leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"You don’t have to be afraid," he whispered. "You don’t have to hide how much you want me."

His hand slid from your chin down to your shoulder, then lower, grazing the fabric of your dress in a way that made your breath hitch.

He was testing the boundaries, pushing them, seeing how far he could go before you pulled away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"I just needed to know," Joel continued, his voice soft but insistent, "that you want me, too. That you’re as hungry for this as I am."

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Joel’s fingers trailed down your arm, intertwining with your own, holding them still.

His grip was firm, grounding, and yet there was that undercurrent of dominance there—the same unspoken claim he always made, like you were something precious and fragile, yet wholly his.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, though the apology didn’t feel entirely sincere. His voice was calm, soothing, but the darkness in his gaze remained.

"I didn’t mean to push you away. I just needed to make sure you wanted me like I want you."

His hand brushed over your cheek, the gesture tender, though you could sense the raw desire behind it.

"Tell me you want me, baby," he coaxed, his thumb stroking the side of your face. "Tell me I wasn’t wrong."

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, the intensity in his eyes almost too much to bear.

He was pulling you in, breaking down every last wall you had left, making you crave the very thing you’d been trying to deny.

"I need you," you breathed, the confession spilling from your lips before you could stop it.

Joel’s smile widened, that dark, twisted satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

His grip on your hand tightened, his other hand slipping around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I knew it," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "I knew you couldn’t resist."

Joel’s eyes darkened with a twisted satisfaction as he leaned in closer, his hand brushing against your arm with an intimacy that belied his words.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, but with a dark undercurrent. “I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”

You shifted slightly, feeling a mix of relief and unease as you looked up at him. Joel’s gaze was intense, his expression one of smoldering desire masked by a veneer of concern.

He watched as your defenses crumbled, your need for comfort making you more vulnerable to his manipulations.

“Just let me be here for you,” he continued, his hand moving to your cheek, his touch almost tender but charged with a possessive edge.

“You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you, baby. You just need to trust me.”

You nodded slowly, your resolve faltering as you leaned into his touch.

His words, though laced with a veneer of sympathy, were a seductive promise of control.

Joel could see the way you melted under his gaze, your need for him growing stronger with each passing moment.

He let his hand slide down your arm, his touch deliberately lingering as he coaxed you into his embrace.

“You’re safe here with me,” he whispered, his voice low and sultry.

“You don’t have to think about anything else. Just let me take care of you.”

You were too overwhelmed by your emotions to resist as he gently pulled you closer.

His hands roamed over your body with a possessive urgency, each touch calculated to deepen your dependence on him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

The warmth of his breath, the intensity of his gaze, and the possessiveness in his touch combined to create a heady mix of pleasure and apprehension.

Joel’s manipulation was complete—he had broken down your defenses, making you crave his presence as desperately as he desired to control you.

As his hands explored your body, his touch became more insistent, his words a blend of comfort and dark desire.

“You want me, sweet girl, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

As Joel's words and touch sank in, you felt a wave of relief mingled with your desperation.

The fear of being abandoned, of losing the small comfort he provided, made you cling to him even more.

Despite the unsettling edge to his words, the fact that he was showing you kindness again brought a surge of gratitude.

You wanted to feel cared for, wanted to be held in a way that made you forget the fear of being left alone.

"Please, Joel," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I want you."

Joel’s touch became a tangled mix of comfort and possessiveness.

He held you close, his hands roaming over your body with a growing insistence, reinforcing the notion that you were his and his alone.

His whispers and touches were a heady mixture of dark desire and a twisted form of affection, leaving you both comforted and caught in his web of manipulation.

Joel’s voice was low and soothing, yet carried an undercurrent of dominance.

“You’re just a girl who needs someone to look after her,” he said, each word dripping with arousal.

“Let me take care of everything for you. You don’t need to worry about a thing while you’re with me. Just relax and let me handle it all, baby. I’m here to make sure you’re okay.”

His touch was slow and deliberate, slowly tucking up your dress, his words designed to reinforce both his control and your vulnerability.

You shivered as his lips pressed against your skin, your mind clouded with a mix of longing and confusion.

Joel’s voice was soft, almost tender, but with an unmistakable edge.

“You’ve been so lost and vulnerable,” he murmured, drawing you closer.

“You need someone strong to guide you, to make you feel safe. Let me be that for you. You don’t have to handle any of this alone. Just let go and let me take care of you.”

His lips brushed against yours, soft and insistent.

"Let me be that for you, let me take care of everything. You don't have to do anything but trust me."

As his lips pressed firmly against yours, he deepened the kiss, each movement reinforcing his words, pulling you further into his control.

His tongue slid into your mouth, exploring and claiming you with a possessive fervor.

"You're so sweet," he murmured between kisses, his voice raw and heated.

"I've been waiting for this, needing to feel you like this." His hands roamed possessively over your body, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his desire unmistakable in every touch and caress.

Joel’s lips remained locked on yours, the kiss growing more urgent and desperate.

His hands wandered over your body, exploring with a mixture of hunger and tenderness.

One hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while the other slid down to your waist, pressing you firmly against him and his pulsing length.

His kisses were relentless, each one deeper and more insistent than the last.

He traced the contours of your lips with his tongue, his touch turning more possessive.

“You feel so perfect,” he whispered between heated kisses, his breath hot against your skin.

“I can’t get enough of you.” His fingers roamed over your body with increasing boldness, every touch stoking the fire between you.

Your body responded instinctively to his touch, even as your mind struggled to catch up.

Every caress, every lingering touch made you shiver, a mixture of confusion and pleasure rippling through you.

Your breathing quickened, each kiss and stroke sending waves of warmth through your veins.

Though you were unsure and your thoughts swirled with uncertainty, the sensation of his hands roaming over your skin felt undeniably good.

You leaned into his touch, your body betraying your confusion with a need that grew stronger with each passing second.

Your fingers clung to him, finding solace in the way he held you, even as a part of you grappled with the intensity of the moment.

You just want to finally feel safe again.

You clung to him, breath shaky and eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and need.

“Please,” you whispered urgently, voice breaking, “I need you to take care of me, to make me feel safe. I can’t do this alone anymore. I need you to be the one to make me feel good, to give me what I’m missing. I want you to be everything for me.”

Joel’s eyes darkened with a mix of lust and satisfaction. He pulled you closer, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for you to say that. You need me to take care of you, to make you feel safe? I’m going to give you everything you’ve been craving. You don’t have to worry about a thing anymore—just let me be the one to fulfill all your desires.”

His hand traced a heated path along your side, each touch designed to ignite your senses further.

“Yes, please” you whimpered into his mouth.

That’s all he wanted.

Joel’s touch became reverent, his hands exploring your body with a possessive hunger. His lips followed the path of his fingers, kissing every exposed inch of skin as he spoke with a fervent, dirty intensity.

“Fuckin‘ perfect, every part of you is just for me,” he whispered against your collarbone, his breath hot and tantalizing.

“I want to worship every curve, every soft spot. you’re so fuckin beautiful, and you need me to show you just how much. Let me savor you, baby—every touch, every kiss is for you. You’re mine now, and I’m going to make sure you feel that deep in your bones.”

Joels lips slowly traveled down your body.

His breath was warm and heavy against your skin as he knelt before you. His gaze was dark, filled with an unrestrained hunger as he whispered, his voice a sultry murmur.

“so sweet, so irresistible,” he said, his fingers grazing your inner thighs with a teasing touch.

“I’m going to show you just how much you need me. You’re like a little princess who needs to be worshipped, and I’m more than happy to oblige. Let me taste every part of you, baby. I want to make you feel so good, so full of pleasure, you’ll never want to leave my side.”

Joel's hands were deft as he slowly peeled away the rest of your dress, his touch both deliberate and reverent. His lips traced a path along your skin.

"Need someone to think for you, hm?" he murmured, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"To make every decision, every choice for you. You just need to surrender to me, let me take care of everything. I'll make sure you’re completely taken care of, baby. Just relax and let me handle everything."

His fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration, each movement fueling his deep, perverted desire to have you wholly in his control.

Joel carefully lifted you into his arms, carrying you toward his bed with a purposeful stride.

He lowered you gently onto the mattress, his hands lingering on your waist as he took in the sight of you in nothing but your underwear.

His breath was warm against your exposed skin as he settled beside you. "You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice a mix of tenderness and unspoken hunger.

"Just relax. I'm going to make sure you feel good."

His fingers traced lightly over your exposed skin, each touch both soothing and charged with a possessive intensity.

The sight of you, vulnerable and exposed, ignited a primal hunger deep within him.

Every curve of your body seemed to call out to him, each subtle movement you made only heightening his intense need.

The way you looked, soft and eager, made his pulse race with anticipation.

He imagined the many ways he could take control, shaping your need and dependence to match his desires.

The thought of making you entirely his, of fulfilling his fantasies and watching you respond to his every touch, filled him with a dark, thrilling excitement.

His cock, leaking and pulsing inside of his - now too tight - pants.

He couldn't help but notice the way his body reacted to you-how every time you were near, his pulse quickened, and that familiar ache stirred deep inside him.

It was unexpected, really. At his age, he thought those days were behind him, but being around you had changed everything.

His body responded to you in ways he hadn't felt in years, his cock hardening almost every time you so much as smiled in his direction.

It was like his body refused to let him forget just how much he wanted you-constantly reminding him, throbbing with need whenever you were close.

He lowered himself to the bed beside you, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice laced with both tenderness and an unspoken hunger.

“Just relax. I’m going to make sure you feel good.”

His lips brushed softly against your stomach, his kisses slow and deliberate, hinting at the path his hands and lips might take.

“Let me show you how much I care,” he whispered, his breath making your skin tingle with anticipation.

Joel's hands moved with deliberate patience, his touch growing more assured as he pressed your thighs to open.

"You don't have to think about a thing. Daddy's got you."

Your breath caught in your throat when the word left his lips—daddy. It hit you like a shock, a jolt of something both unfamiliar and undeniably magnetic.

You weren’t sure how to process it, weren’t even sure you should. But it stirred something deep inside, a part of you you hadn’t acknowledged in so long.

The air between you thickened, your heart racing as the room suddenly felt smaller, warmer.

You knew you should say something, stop this before it went further, but your body betrayed you, leaning into the heat of his touch, the promise in his voice.

The word echoed in your mind, twisting through your thoughts, confusing you with how natural, how right it sounded in his mouth.

You wanted to push him away, to ask what he thought he was doing, but you didn’t.

Instead, you stayed—silent, wide-eyed—because part of you wanted to hear him say it again.

Part of you wanted to be taken care of, to be small, vulnerable, safe in a way you hadn’t been since...

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you couldn’t deny how the word sent a rush of warmth through you, settling low in your pulsing cunt.

Joel's lips hovered just above your skin, each kiss trailing lower, igniting a soft, trembling need within you. You moaned.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire as his hands gripped your hips gently, holding you in place.

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

His mouth moved slowly, deliberately, his breath warm as he teased you, each moment making your body tense in anticipation.

“You’ve been needing this, haven’t you?” he murmured, “My poor baby“, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Needed daddy so bad, hm?”

He paused, his lips hovering dangerously close, his voice dropping lower.

He lowered himself with a deliberate slowness, his gaze locked onto you with a mix of fervent anticipation and adoration.

“Let me show you just how much I want to take care of you,” he whispered, his voice a husky murmur, slowly taking of your damp panties - leaning in close.

His prominent nose brushed teasingly against your pulsing clit, sending a shiver through your entire body.

Each delicate nudge felt almost like a promise, hinting at what was to come.

The sensation left you both confused and intrigued, your breath quickening as you struggled to process the mingling of shock and unexpected pleasure.

His tongue made a tentative, deliberate swipe against you, licking your pussy gently, sending a shiver up your spine.

The sudden warmth and wetness made you gasp, your body reacting instinctively to the unexpected sensation.

A mix of confusion and pleasure swirled within you as your breath hitched, your fingers gripping the sheets, trying to steady yourself amidst the overwhelming, unfamiliar pleasure.

Joel noticed your inexperience in every hesitant gasp and shiver. It only made his cock harden more in his Jeans.

Joel's focus remained intently on your little cunt, his every touch purposeful. He moved with deliberate slowness, savoring the reactions you elicited.

His tongue traced light, teasing patterns onto your twitching clit, his breaths warm and soft against your skin, making you shiver with every delicate touch.

His lips lingered on your most sensitive part, the sensation of a subtle, rhythmic suction, barely perceptible yet unmistakably suggestive, creating a wave of shivering anticipation through your whole body.

You, already, were so close to the edge; Joel could see it clearly.

Your breaths came in rapid, uneven gasps, and your body quivered in response to his touch. He noticed the way your muscles tensed and the subtle tremors that ran through you.

The urgency in your breaths and the way your legs slightly shook were unmistakable signals of your nearing climax.

He pulled back just enough to watch, relishing the heightened tension as your eyes fluttered open, a mix of frustration and anticipation evident on your face.

Joel’s voice was low and filled with a dark, seductive promise. “I can feel how close you are, baby,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“I want to feel you come undone, baby. I want to watch you lose control. Just give in and let Daddy take care of you.” His voice was a seductive whisper, every word designed to heighten your need, as his touch lingered, coaxing and teasing.

Slowly taking off his pants.

As Joel’s pants fell to his ankles, the sight that greeted you was both startling and mesmerizing. His leaking cock was noticeably larger than you had imagined, with a thickness that made your eyes widen in surprise.

The smooth, dark skin of his shaft was veined and visibly engorged, hinting at the intensity of his desire.

It was already leaking a glistening bead of pre-cum, which pooled at the tip and gave it an almost ominous sheen.

Joel's gaze never wavered from you, his eyes dark and filled with an unsettling mix of satisfaction and dominance.

“This is what you’ve done to me,” he said softly, his voice rough with need.

Cock jumping every time you looked down at him. “You’re the only one who makes me feel this way.”

You hesitated, a mixture of confusion and reluctance evident in your eyes. “I don’t know, Joel…”

He paused, his voice taking on a more commanding tone.

“If you don’t let go, baby, I might just have to leave you to figure it out on your own. You don’t want that, do you? Daddy’s here to take care of you, to make sure you’re okay. Trust me and let me help you.”

His words were wrapped in a mix of persuasion and a subtle edge of threat, aimed to coax you into surrendering.

You felt a flutter of apprehension mixed with a yearning need for his touch. His whisper, dripping with both authority and promise, coaxed you into a state of surrender.

“You don’t want me to leave, do you?” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “Say it, baby. Tell me you want me to stay.”

Your breath hitched as you struggled with the rising tide of vulnerability. Scared of being left alone again.

With a soft, hesitant voice, you finally whispered, „I want you to stay.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger as he heard you utter those words.

He cupped your face gently, his fingers tracing along your jawline as he continued to whisper soothingly, “That’s a good girl. Let me take care of you. Just relax and let me handle everything.”

His touch, though tender, carried an unmistakable edge of possessiveness, making it clear that he was in control.

He gazed at you with a warm, tender smile, his eyes softening as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” he murmured, his voice gentle and affectionate.

“Such a good girl for me. I’m so proud of you.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his tone filled with genuine adoration.

“You’re perfect, just the way you are. Let me take care of you.” His words were laced with a blend of endearment and possessiveness, wrapping you in a comforting cocoon of reassurance.

You felt a surge of warmth at his words, a mix of relief and comfort flooding through you.

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with vulnerability.

A shy smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his touch, finding solace in his praise.

The reassurance of being called "pretty" and "good girl" felt like a soothing balm, calming the storm of confusion and fear within you.

In his presence, despite everything, you felt a strange, tentative peace.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing softly against yours.

The kiss began gentle and tender, filled with a careful exploration of emotions.

His touch was both reassuring and passionate, gradually deepening as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer.

The heat between you intensified, the kiss becoming more urgent and consuming. Every caress of his lips was a promise of intimacy, blending comfort with an insistent desire.

As the kiss deepened, his hands began to explore your body with a gentle, possessive touch.

His fingertips traced a slow, deliberate path down your sides, moving closer to your chest.

With a careful, almost teasing touch, he caressed the curve of your breast through the fabric of your bra, savoring the way your body responded to his every movement.

His voice was low and commanding, his breath hot against your skin.

"Let me see all of you," he murmured, his hands already starting to slide your remaining clothes off with a mix of urgency and reverence.

"| want to see you all laid bare, just for me."

His eyes burned with intensity as he eagerly worked to reveal more of your body, his touch lingering with every movement.

As the fabric slipped away and your bare breasts were revealed, his eyes darkened with a primal intensity.

He gazed at you hungrily, his breath catching as he took in the sight. His fingers roamed eagerly over your skin, their touch lingering and possessive.

"God, you're incredible," he groaned, his voice dripping with desire.

"|'ve wanted to see you like this for so long." His hands explored your breast with a ferocity that left no doubt about his hunger, his gaze fixed on you with an almost obsessive fixation.

He couldn’t help but revel in the sight of you, so exposed and vulnerable before him.

His hands roamed possessively over your breasts, fingers tracing the curves and contours with a reverent touch.

His lips finally descended, capturing one of your nipples in a gentle, teasing kiss.

He nuzzled and licked, savoring the softness and warmth, his tongue flickering with a hunger that made his intentions clear.

Each delicate brush of his lips and tongue was an unspoken promise of his complete adoration, his perverted fascination with every part of you laid bare.

As Joel's tongue traced over your nipples, he couldn't help but let his mind wander.

The sensation of your skin against his lips, your warmth radiating through him and your sweet moans only fueled his thoughts.

He imagined you carrying his child, his own mark on you in the most intimate way.

Each teasing lick and gentle suck was accompanied by the fantasy of you pregnant, fulfilling a desire that went far beyond the present moment.

His mind drifted to the idea of you nourishing him in the most intimate way, the anticipation of tasting your milk driving him wild.

His cock throbbed incessantly, each pulse a painful reminder of just how much he yearned for you.

The ache grew with each touch, each kiss, until it became a near-constant throbbing, demanding release.

The sensation was overwhelming, an almost unbearable pressure that seemed to grow with every inch of contact, his desire for you mounting with every second

Joel’s breath grew ragged as he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire.

He looked at you with a mix of need and intensity, his voice low and gravelly.

“Daddy needs to be inside you, sweet girl” he murmured.

He stared at you with a burning intensity, his voice a hushed whisper of urgency.

His movements were deliberate and filled with a raw desire that was impossible to ignore, his body pressing closer to yours with each passing moment, his breath hot and uneven against your skin.

You could feel the unmistakable pressure and heat of him as he positioned himself, at the opening of your tight pussy.

His eyes locked onto yours, a fierce determination in his gaze.

“I’ve waited for this moment,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

Silently your voice whispered out to him, “Daddy,”

The sound of your voice seemed to unlock something deep within him.

Joel groaned as he pressed deeper, feeling the way your body clenched tightly around him.

The stretch was almost too much, and you could feel just how thick he was as he slowly sank inside, inch by inch.

"God, you're so tight," he rasped, his voice thick with strain and something darker, almost possessive.

He paused, giving you a moment to adjust, his breathing heavy as he fought for control.

"You feel so perfect around me," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, the weight of him settling heavily against you. "Just relax, baby. Let me in."

As Joel pushed deeper, your body reacted to the overwhelming sensation—a mix of pleasure and a sharp, lingering ache.

Each inch of him brought a new wave of heat that burned through you, the stretch almost too much, yet somehow not enough.

You gasped, your body tensing under the pressure, unsure whether to pull away or draw him closer.

The pain ebbed with every slow movement, replaced by a growing warmth that made your pulse quicken.

“Easy,” Joel whispered, his voice thick and soothing, his lips grazing your neck.

“I know it’s a lot… but you’ll get used to it. Just let me take care of you. My sweet, pretty girl”

Your body responded instinctively, a wave of pleasure crashing over you with each deliberate thrust, making you feel completely and utterly exposed.

He pressed into you with a steady, deliberate force, each thrust deep and insistent.

The sensation of him moving inside you was both overwhelming and all-consuming, his control evident in every motion.

His thrusts were measured but powerful, pushing and pulling with an intensity that made each moment stretch, filling you completely.

The way he moved was both commanding and passionate, amplifying every sensation and hinting at his unrestrained desire.

Joel's sounds were raw and primal, each groan and sigh escaping him with a deep, guttural intensity.

His breaths came in short, ragged bursts, every exhale a mix of pleasure and need.

The way he grunted and muttered, his voice rough and strained, made it clear how much he craved and needed you.

His movements were urgent and powerful, driven by an almost feral desire that made him seem less controlled and more driven by pure, unfiltered instinct.

As he continued to move, he couldn't help but notice how perfectly you enveloped him.

Every shift and thrust seemed to be met with an almost intoxicating tightness, making each motion feel even more intense.

Joel's voice was rough, almost primal, as he spoke through gritted teeth.

"You're driving me crazy," he growled, the need in his voice palpable.

"I've been waiting for this, to have you just like this. You're so perfect, so tight...I want you to scream my name."

Each word was punctuated with a forceful thrust, his eyes dark with a perverted hunger.

"Tell me how much you need me, baby. Let daddy hear you."

You moaned softly, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and surrender. "I need you so badly. I want you to take care of me, to give me everything."

His grip on you tightened, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

"That's right. Tell me how much you crave me, how much you want me to make you feel good. I need to hear you beg for it."

Each thrust was deliberate, designed to push you to the edge of your limits, to make you feel every inch of his need.

He watched you intently, eager to hear every plea, every expression of your deep desire for him.

“Please,” you begged, your voice breaking with raw need. “Please, just—make me feel good. I need you so badly. I want you to take me completely.”

He thrust harder, a dark satisfaction in his eyes.

“Beg me. Tell me exactly what you want. How you want me to make you feel. I want to hear it.”

You whimpered, your body trembling under his relentless pace.

“I want you to touch me everywhere. Make me come so hard, I don’t know my own name. I need you inside me, every inch. Please, Daddy, don’t stop.”

His smirk widened, a cruel thrill in his voice.

“That’s it. Let me hear how much you need me. Tell me you’re mine.”

Your voice was a desperate, pleading whisper as you gasped, “Please, take over. I can’t think straight—just make me feel what I need.”

His eyes blazed with a primal hunger as he heard your desperate plea.

A low growl escaped him, filled with raw, unchecked desire.

"You want me to take over, baby?" he rasped, his voice thick with lust.

"'Il make you feel everything you need. Just give yourself to me completely."

His grip tightened, and his movements grew more urgent, driven by an insatiable need to dominate and fulfill your every desire.

His thrusts grew more insistent, every motion deliberate and filled with a primal urgency.

He pressed deeper, feeling the tightness of you enveloping him, each movement stirring an intense reaction within him.

His hands roamed over your body with an unrestrained hunger, lingering on your breasts as he traced their shape with a feverish touch.

He cupped them firmly, his fingers gently kneading and teasing, feeling your sensitive nipples.

He leaned closer, his voice dripping with possessiveness.

“You’re my perfect little girl, aren’t you? Let Daddy make sure you feel everything you’ve ever needed. I’ll take care of you in ways no man could ever do. No man ever did. “

Something about the way he said it - the promise, the claim - ignited something deep within you.

Your body responded to his words before your mind could catch up, and a wave of pleasure washed over you, muscles tightening around him as you trembled, overwhelmed by the release.

As Joel’s movements grew more insistent, his breathing quickened, the tension between you palpable.

His hands roamed over your body, his touch both commanding and tender.

Every thrust, every caress seemed to draw you both closer to the edge of an all-consuming release.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark with an intense, almost primal desire.

“Tell me you need me,” he rasped, his voice rough with the effort of holding back. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The pressure of his body against yours, the heat of his breath, and the intensity of his gaze all combined to overwhelm you.

You felt your own need rising, a reflection of his own desperate hunger.

“I need you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both emotion and desire. “I’m yours.”

Joel’s grip tightened on you, his control slipping as his own climax approached.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a dark satisfaction. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

His movements grew more urgent, his body pressing against yours with an almost unbearable intensity.

You could feel the unmistakable heat of his cock, deep inside. The rhythm of his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared the point of no return.

With a final, deep groan, Joel’s body tensed, and you felt the surge of his release, his warmth spreading inside you.

His hands held you tightly, his breathing ragged as he let out a low, satisfied sigh.

The moment was both primal and intimate, a profound culmination of the need that had driven you both.

As his movements gradually slowed, you could feel the lingering heat of his cum inside of you, a reminder of the intense connection you shared.

Joel’s voice, now soft and breathless, whispered against your ear. “I needed this… I needed you.” His hands continued their slow, lingering caress, as if unwilling to let go of the moment, of you.

You lay there, caught between the afterglow of your shared intensity and the deep, unspoken understanding of what you both had given

Joel turned to you, his gaze dark with an intensity that made you shiver.

His hand wandered, brushing lightly against your lips before sliding down to gently caress your breast, a possessive touch that left no room for misunderstanding.

You looked up at him, a mix of confusion and an unspoken need flickering in your eyes. “But what happens now?”

“You don’t have to worry about anything, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

“Tonight was all about showing you just how much you mean to me—and how much I need you.”

Joel’s fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, his touch both tender and insistent.

“It means you’re mine,” he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “And it means I’m here to take care of everything. You don’t need to think about a thing.”

You shivered as his thumb brushed over your nipple, the sensation sending a jolt through you. “I just want to feel like I belong somewhere.”

Joel’s smile was a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness.

“You belong with me. I’ll make sure you never feel empty again. We both have our voids, but together, we fill them.”

His fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration, making your breath catch with each gentle touch.

“You’re not just filling a space, baby. You’re giving me everything I need.”

You felt a strange blend of relief and anticipation. “I guess... I needed this too. I can just let go.”

Joel’s hand lingered on your breast, his grip firm yet reassuring.

“That’s right. You don’t have to think about anything else. Just be here with me, and let me take care of you. I want to see you happy, feel you close.”

The way he spoke, his voice thick with desire, made you feel a mix of comfort and excitement.

His touch was a constant reminder of the connection you now shared, both physical and emotional.

As you settled into his embrace, you felt a strange sense of completeness, knowing that, in this moment, you were filling the emptiness for each other in a way that was both intense and deeply satisfying. It’s all gonna be okay. Right?

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

These two really need therapy! Hope y’all enjoyed x

Probably will only do oneshots & smut scenarios with these two fuckers- from now on.

Also, I had no beta, so if you see anything that needs correction, let me know!

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mirrology · 4 months ago

Note

Just saw that you write for genshin too!! Yay!!

I wanted to request a child reader who doesn't like talking to people but shy way- but bc she feels like there is no point in it also is a genius but doesn't go to the akademia bc of financial reasons so alhaitham adopts her? Also, kaveh and alhaitham act like parents towards her? Like kaveh scolding her for not making friends at the akademia and scolding alhaitham bc he is not a good example? Basically, kaveh being the worried mom and alhaitham being the cool dad

Sorry if this request was too long and specific 😅 I had this brainrot for a long time and wanted to share it with you

ノ Demure .ᐟ ʚɞ

୨୧ reserved, modest, and shy.

alhaitham, kaveh & gender neutral reader. platonic. | wc: 1.1k

tags/warnings: child reader, typical kavetham bickering, reader is considered a genius, reader has no parents, a little bit of angst regarding reader's backstory

notes: WOW THIS IS SO SO LATE!! I'M SO SORRYY, I've been having a really hard time with my mental health.

she/her pronouns were used in the ask, but the reader is gender neutral so everyone can enjoy. sorry if that's not what you wanted!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

— For as long as you can remember, you were alone. In a house that brought back nostalgia, but those memories were buried deep into your mind, and no matter how hard you tried to dig them up, they stayed hidden.

— You took up small jobs around sumeru to get by, to at least look presentable in public. Even though it was considered child labor, you didn't care. Although when it came to speaking to people, it was difficult. People could be stubborn and rude, you didn't grow up knowing social cues or ways to respond. So, the only option you had was not speaking.

— When you didn't respond to the person that was talking to you, they either assumed you were mute or that you were rude and just didn't want to speak to them.

— Once, you were out in the desert in search of materials for your employer. You had crouched down as you spotted something shining underneath the grains of sand. It was a gem, and it looked quite expensive. The next thing you knew… you were surrounded by people in outfits that you hadn't seen before. Each and every one of them had a sort of red blind fold on. They demanded that you hand it over.

— You couldn't get a response out as your body froze up in fear. Just as one of them was going to swing their weapon down, it was intercepted by a sword.

— It was a man in green, before anyone could react the man knocked out the people who were previously surrounding you. Your eyes sparkled in awe, watching as the man swiftly landed on his feet. His head turned to you, causing you to flinch at his cold eyes, but they slightly softened in something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

↳ Your mouth hung open as you stared at the man in green. He beat up the scary looking people, he… he was so cool! Your eyes sparkled and were basically radiating light. His head turned to you, his eyes were narrowed, and that made you jump and quickly close your open mouth. The man started approaching you — you, not exactly trusting him, looked around for an opening to run away. The man knelt down to your height, yet still at a comfortable distance, his eyes trailed over your face, taking in your features and searching for any injuries. A small bead of sweat ran down the side of your face, discomfort written on your face. “Do you have anywhere to go?” The green man asked. You reluctantly shook your head. Your former house — that was barely staying together - didn't really count. He offered you his hand. “Would you like to come with me?”

You stared at the hand that he held out, should you agree? I mean it's not like you have anywhere else to go, and you weren't exactly made for hard labor jobs… you put your hand on his and nodded, he stood up with your hand is his. “My name is Alhaitham.” He said while looking down at you expectantly. “I'm (Name)...” You muttered but you could tell from his nod that he heard it.

— When you went with Alhaitham, you expected to be taken to an orphanage or taken to the authorities, yet that wasn't the case. He had taken you to his house and given you clean clothes, a warm bed to sleep in and… a roommate?

— After you had taken a bath and changed, Alhaitham had sat you on the couch and explained that he wasn't the only one who lived in the house. You really hadn't expected it since he seems like the type of person to like his alone time, but you understood.

— Once Kaveh came home after a long day of dealing with indecisive clients, he was met with you, and Alhaitham engaged in a game of chess and… The former was actually losing. To Kaveh It felt like a fever dream, so his only response was to stand in the doorway. But once he realized that there was someone other than him and Alhaitham in the house, and that someone was a CHILD.

— oh boy, Kaveh is immediately asking 1000 questions per minute. How did you get here? Where are their parents? Do you even know if they have any other relatives? and so on and so forth.

— Once Kaveh and dwindled down from his flurry of questions, Alhaitham explained your situation.

↳ Kaveh put a hand on his chin as he took in the information provided by his roommate. He hummed “So… they're staying with us?” He asked Alhaitham with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, that's right.” The scribe nodded and crossed his arms, Kaveh sighed “Alright…” He trailed off and met eyes with your wide ones. “I'm Kaveh, nice to meet you, (Name)” He gave you a small smile. Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ shape ‘he's pretty’ you thought.

— As the days went by and the three of you got adjusted to living together, Alhaitham noticed something peculiar about you. You were much more perceptive than other children, often pointing out details that even some adults couldn't have seen, and you learn surprisingly quickly for a child your age.

— You also took a strange interest in the akademia. Whenever you, with either of your guardians, would pass by the akademia, your eyes would be immediately glued to the entrance doors. Alhaitham, seeing your subtle hints of interest, decided to talk with Kaveh to see if they should enroll you in the akedemia.

— and surprisingly, it didn't take much convincing to get Kaveh to agree. The both of them had acknowledged your perceptive nature, quick 5 interest in the akademia. They decided to give you a chance, since it seems that you never had a proper education. They sat you down to tell you, and once they did… you lit up, a rare but well received squeal escaped your mouth as you rapidly thanked them as you ran up to hug them. Your wholesome reaction forced a smile out of Alhaitham and a hearty laughter out of Kaveh.

— You loved your time in the akademia, learning about different plants, animals, and complicated equations that you came close to solving. The only slight problem was… that you didn't make an effort to talk to other kids your age. It was just that you went the best at talking to people, and you got really anxious when you did. It didn't help that you froze up when someone approached you.

— Alhaitham in return, assured you that you didn't need to interact with people. You just needed to focus on your studies and yourself, but Kaveh had the opposite opinion. He believed it was essential to have friends or just people to talk to. It would build up social skills and help with public speaking. At Kaveh's rambling, Alhaitham muttered a quiet "Don't listen to him”, yet Kaveh heard his remark and started to scold him for encouraging the anti-social behavior. Although you kept Kaveh’s advice in mind, you weren't planning on public speaking or speaking to people anytime soon.

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bunniislvt · 2 years ago

Note

Guess who's birthday it isss!! MINEEE, YAZIES

was wondering if I could get a Kaeya/Tighnari x sensitive afab reader for my birthday, if not that's totally okay!! Hope your day is going AMAZING!!! Take care of yourself, love ya!

tighnari x sensitive!fem reader

sensitive baby

[fingering , cunnilingus , penetration , tighnari is a tease]

IM SORRY I NEVER GOT TO THIS UNTIL NOW *SOBS*

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

a shiver shoots up your spine as his tongue laps at your neck, his fingers burying themselves in your needy hole.

"you like that, dear? tell me how good it feels," he purrs, pushing his fingers up into a sensitive spot inside of you.

in response, you squeal, your eyes tearing up as he abuses that spot. you cant form words, too embarrassed and blissed out.

"come on baby, tell me."

he's so mean, flicking his fingers up quickly for a moment before resuming his previous pace, making you choke out a pleasured sob. he kisses up your neck and to your lips, kissing you sweetly before pulling back to look you in the eyes.

he pulls his fingers out of you, looking down into your watery eyes. he smirks at you, slowly pushing his fingers past his lips and tastes you. heat flared in your cheeks and you look away, whimpering.

"you taste.. wonderful," he moans, his body melting into yours once more.

his lips attack your skin, trailing lower and lower down your body until he finds himself between your thighs. looking up at you, he teases you by flicking his tongue against you quickly, yet feather light. the feeling makes you twitch, his warm tongue massaging your needy clit.

"n-nari.." you whimper, trying to grind your hips against his mouth.

he lets out a moan, closing his eyes and letting himself get lost in your taste. his tongue goes everywhere, tasting you as much as he could while his hands hold on to your thighs, pinning them open.

the feeling of him licking you makes you squirm, racing to finish. his eyes open again and locks with yours. he watches as you get closer and closer, teasing you by taking his tongue away before you can orgasm. with a few pleas, he lets you finish on his tongue, lapping you up as you come down from your high. the stimulation makes you whimper, growing teary eyed once more.

"such a cute baby, you want more?"

you nod, grabbing for him. he laughs and climbs on top of you, resting his full weight against you. you sigh in response, wrapping your arms around him as his lips find yours. his kisses make you shiver, soft moans mix between your lips as he pushes his hips into yours. his cock is still in the confines of his pants, but you can feel it straining against the fabric trying to get out.

you reach down and gently tug his waistband down and feel him push against you, a laugh escaping his lips. he grinds himself into you, making you jolt and squirm under him. you were still sensitive from your orgasm.

he coos softly, cupping your face and peppering kisses onto your skin, but that doesn't stop his hips from pushing into you faster. a mix of his pre and your fluids build between you two, making him able to slide in with ease. he pushes until he's fully sheathed, kissing your lips tenderly. your legs kick and tremble as his cock fills you, a soft moan falling from your lips as he parts from yours. tighnari looks at you with admiration and amusement.

"such a sensitive little thing, you're so cute," he purrs, moving his hips back and then into you.

you gasp, hands scratching at his back and trying to hold onto him as he sets his pace, not a fast one but in no means slow. his cock grazes over the sensitive spot inside of you and makes you tremble and grow teary eyed. with each thrust, he makes you moan for him, tears falling down your red cheeks while he admires you, taking in all your cute little reactions.

he could never get enough of you, he absolutely loved teasing you, pushing your orgasm away again and again until he grew satisfied with your tear covered face and babbling moans. he didn't let you cum until you were so desperate for it, body growing limp from the amount of pleasure he gave you. once he was satisfied, he thrusted his hips into you, aiming for that soft spot inside that he knew would make you snap.

and it did. you cried out as you saw blinding stars from how intense your orgasm was, panting heavily and clinging to him until you came down. even after, he gently rocked his hips into you, shushing you as you hiccuped and sobbed blissfully into his neck.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #smut #genshin impact #fem!reader #genshin x reader #tighnari smut #genshin tighnari smut #tighnari #tighnari x reader

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spooky-smooches · 5 months ago

Text

petite monster

tw fatphobia

You have been dreading this day for nearly a whole year. Even though you accepted your current job as gardener for kind, wealthy family of goblins knowing you would eventually have to attend some sort of party, a large part of you still hoped it would never happen.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The family you have been working for are affectionately called 'the navy' by the townspeople because of their distinctive deep blue birthmarks that appear in splotches head-to-toe. The rest of their skin is green, of course, as they are all full-blooded goblins. (Rumor has it their ancestors were some of the first to leave The Underground.)

You have lived in this town your whole adult life, very often seeing some or all of them at shops and festivals alike. Never very social, you always kept your distance, never doing more than smiling from across the room. Not that you had anything against them! Quite the opposite actually. They had done so much good for the townspeople, you had firmly made up your mind to be as cordial as possible while tending to their gardens.

The navy family was quite large, with many extended aunts and uncles and cousins all living on one estate. It was easy to forget names when faced with six or seven similar-looking people saying hello all at once. There was one goblin, however, who was impossible for you to forget.

He stood about two feet shorter than you, same as most of his family members, and seemed incapable of making it 24 hours without speaking to you about something. At first it was polite greetings around the property. Then he always seemed to need you to get something from a tall shelf in the greenhouses for him. After you placed stepladders throughout, he switched to asking questions. Questions about plants. Questions about the weather. Questions about the local wildlife.

You just assumed he was a weird sort of guy who needed the social practice. But one day, after he watched you prune roses for an uncomfortably long moment, he asked how you like your tea. And the next day, he brought a tray of it with him. When you refused it, insisting you couldn't relax on the job, his pointed ears drooped a little as he sighed and nodded.

After that, he didn't bring gifts again. But the questions persisted. He asked you all sorts of questions about yourself, and usually answered them himself as well. Even though you tried your hardest to focus only on your work, your little green-and-blue shadow was slowly starting to grow on you.

Over the months, you found yourself looking forward to his daily visits more and more. But you pushed those warm feelings deep, deep down inside, determined to not make a fool of yourself.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Now, on the morning of the day you had hoped for so long would never come, you realized that he was the only person you trusted enough to help you get out of this obligation.

Throwing on some clothes and sturdy shoes, you grab your bulkiest cloak and head outside. After wandering the gardens for a while, he appears next to you, like always.

Seeing your hands picking relentlessly at your sleeves, his smile dims slightly as he regards you.

"Is everything alright?" He asks, cocking his head to the side.

"No. I cannot attend your aunt's party this evening. Will you help me hide?" You ask him, your voice blunt and inflectionless due to your nerves.

His brows raise. "Hide? From what? You've worked here for ages, you know we don't bite." You only frown in response. With a hum, he looks you over, taking note of your tired eyes and quick breaths.

"What about the party is scaring you this much? Surely not the company?" He tries to lighten the mood and smiles at you gently.

"Yes the company!" You snap. His eyes widen and you start feeling the familiar pressure on your ribcage. Too much, too much your heart beat says.

"S-sorry" You whisper, throat tightening at the shocked look on his face.

You try to steady your breathing and fail. He still looks somewhat shaken, but now he's more concerned than anything.

He tentatively takes a step towards you, his soft eyes boring into yours. "Please talk to me, I want to know the whole picture. I promise I will help you, I'm sorry I didn't kno-"

"It's not your fault." You interrupt. He looks like he doesn't quite believe you, and that makes something inside you lurch.

"Can you explain it to me like I'm stupid?" He says, after watching the tears building in your eyes for a moment.

You quirk your lips up despite how awful you feel. A pause for you to collect your thoughts, and then, "I don't look like you." You say.

A moment passes, and when he sees you aren't going to keep talking, he tilts his head. "Explain it to me like I'm even stupider."

With a sigh and a sniff, you resign yourself to fleeing your job and leaving the country due to embarrassment. Clenching your hands so tight you start to get pins and needles, you square your shoulders and look him in the eye. "I don't look like you. I'm fat. You aren't. Seeing my ugly fat body surrounded by fancy pretty party-people will gross you out."

Almost immediately, his expression changes to one of horror. "What-what are you saying? Do you hear yourself?" He gapes at you. You just look at him, confused. "I'm just saying the truth. It's happened before, and they were much larger than you."

In an instant, he is furious. "That is evil. They are evil."

Your brow shoots up. "Don't say that! They aren't evil!"

He looks at you, a swirl of emotions on his face that you can no longer read. "If that isn't evil, I don't know what is." He takes a deep breath and nods to himself. He holds out his hand to you. "We're not going to the party tonight. Let's take a carriage to the Southern forest. We can eat a picnic there with no disturbances."

You stare at his hand, caught completely off-guard. "I- what?"

His hand remains outstretched to you. "I am taking you on a date, tonight. If it turns out that you hate it and me that is fine but I cannot live with myself knowing such a beautiful person thinks that way about themself." His eyes hold a passion you have never seen before.

A gust of wind blows suddenly, and when your hastily-buttoned shirt flaps open he averts his eyes without second thought.

For once, you don't squash the warmth that flickers to life inside you.

You kneel on the ground before him, and take his hand. He is still as a statue and twice as silent as you gently feel the hairs on the back of his hand. "This conversation has been a lot." You say softly, keeping your eyes glued to his hand.

"One date." He whispers, tipping his head to look you in the eyes. "If you want to be friends instead that is more than okay with me. But I'd really, really like to woo you properly. After hearing you say those things about yourself... I can't pretend I don't find you attractive anymore. I just can't, it feels cruel." He chews on his lip slightly while speaking.

"Woo me?" You say, your heart feeling tight and light at the same time.

He smiles crookedly. "Woo you." He agrees.

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the end!

#exophelia #goblin x reader #goblin x human #monster #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster bf #fat reader #fluff

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mountainficss · 11 months ago

Text

adventitious • jeong yunho

ad·ven·ti·tious

/ˌadvenˈtiSHəs/

happening or carried on according to chance rather than design or inherent nature.

WORD COUNT: 3506

SUB!Reader + DOM!Yunho

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, groping, marking, creampie, sexual tension, biting, usage of (y/n), pet names/nicknames, making out, dry humping

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"Jesus Yunho, how long did you microwave that popcorn for?" You questioned, the smell of burnt popcorn diffusing through Yunho's cheap apartment. You waited on the couch for your best friend, watching a stupid grin form onto his face as he removed the popcorn from the microwave and dumped it carelessly into a large bowl, a few kernels falling onto the kitchen counter. "Four minutes?" He replied uncertainly, not entirely sure how long he had set the timer for. "God..." You mumbled, resting your head in your hand. "I don't know how you're not dead yet." He didn't reply, his smile only growing wider as he made his way back to the couch with the bowl of burnt popcorn and plopped next to you.

You and Yunho had become friends back in middle school, now attending the same college and spending your free time together. Since the 6th grade the two of you have been inseparable, making it a habit to eat lunch together every day and mess around in the halls whenever you saw each other. He was the type of friend you needed, Yunho's fun and almost puppy-like personality contrasted with your serious nature. He brought out the best in you, always joking about how he knew you were secretly fun beneath your uptight exterior. You loved the way he could bring a smile to your face even during your lowest moments.

Now you had found yourself sitting in his apartment sharing a bowl of burnt popcorn with him on a Friday night. It was tradition for the two of you to watch movies on Friday nights, staying up as late as 4 a.m. picking random movies and sometimes just letting them play in the background as you talked for hours. Neither of you were the best at focusing on one thing for too long.

"What are we watching tonight?" Yunho asks you, taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl and throwing it at your face playfully. The popcorn hit your cheek and you turned your head from the TV to glare at him, little giggles escaping from him at the sight of your expression. "Quit making a mess, dickhead. I'm sure your apartment's dirty enough," you fought back a smile as you threw the popcorn back at him. He threw a small handful in retaliation and laughed loudly as you pouted at him. "Yunho," you sulked, dragging his name out. "How am I supposed to pick a movie when you keep throwing burnt popcorn at me? You know I'm gonna have to clean this up later," you whined loudly. Yunho studied your face with a smile as he felt his ears heating up. "Okay okay, I promise I'll clean this time," he surrenders, his eyes scanning your face. He always secretly found it adorable when you whined or pouted, getting flustered due to the change of tone in your voice. He did anything for you if you gave him a slight pout.

You turned back to the TV and continued scrolling through movies, trying to find something interesting for the both of you to watch. A cold breeze traveled through the air vents, sending chills across your skin. You reached for the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and used it to cover your bare legs. "Why's it so cold in here?" You mumbled, annoyed. "That's your fault for wearing shorts (Y/N)," Yunho responded cheekily, earning an eye roll from you in response. You had finally agreed on what to watch, some lame spin-off of a popular action movie that probably had terrible acting. You both spent the next 30 minutes trying to focus on the movie but failed miserably by laughing every few minutes at the cheesiness of the acting.

"(Y/N)," Yunho starts quietly, making you turn your head towards him and hum in response. His face almost made your heart skip a beat, the flickering light from the television illuminating his perfect features. His dark middle-parted hair was a little unkempt, and his gentle gaze alone almost made you blush. Having all of his attention on you like that almost caused you to miss what he was saying. "Scoot closer and share the blanket with me. I'm cold."

You sighed loudly. "Aren't there other blankets in your apartment, Yunho? And weren't you just giving me shit for being cold?" You grumbled. Even with your complaints, you moved closer to the other edge of the couch and threw half of the blanket over his lower body. Although you had protested, the slight blush on your face gave away the fact that you were secretly excited to sit closer to him. Your body liked the feeling of being near him, but you'd never let yourself admit it. "Thank you, (Y/N)~" He sang, draping his arm onto the back of the couch behind your head. You said nothing, fighting back the urge to squirm due to being so close to him. You did your best to focus on the movie, but the large presence of your retriever best friend sitting so close to you was distracting. You took deep breaths, doing what you could to calm your pounding heart.

"Let me hold you." Yunho's voice abruptly broke the quiet sounds emitting from the television. You turned quickly towards him with widened eyes, wondering if you even heard him correctly. "This blanket doesn't keep me warm enough," He continues, removing his arm from the top of the couch and snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. "Just come here."

You panicked slightly, feeling your face becoming even redder. "Don't pull me so close, Jeong Yunho!" You snapped, flustered from his actions. Your chest was now flush against his side as he held you close with his arm around your waist. He slightly towered over you, making you feel small underneath him. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed," he chuckled at your attempt to convey annoyance, watching the way your eyebrows furrowed. "This is nothing. We literally slept together once."

"Yah, don't say it like that! And that was back in middle school!"

"I held you closer than this back then."

You couldn't believe this idiot was bringing that up. The memory of you and Yunho spending the night together at his house crossed your mind for the first time in a long time. Your parents were going on an outing and had left you there under the supervision of Yunho's parents. You and Yunho had hung out and played games all day, and he had let you climb into bed with him when your eyelids became droopy and fought to stay open. You still remember the way he held you as you fell asleep next to him, the way his arms pulled you close from behind and remained wrapped around your stomach, spooning you for the whole night. You pushed the memory away, turning to make eye contact with a smirking Yunho.

You wanted to wipe that cheeky grin off his face, but you could hardly think with Yunho's face only being a little more than a foot away from yours. You let out a defeated sigh. "You're such a dick," you muttered as you leaned in and rested your head on his shoulder. His breath hitched slightly at the sudden action, slightly turning his body towards you to rest his other hand on your waist, completely having you under his grip. "Sit on my lap," he commands playfully, turning you to look at him. "Let me hold you for real."

"Yunho!" You yelped, still not used to the feeling of his hands on such an intimate place. "Just this once?" He coaxes with a smile, his thumbs drawing circles onto your sides. You knew your face had to be beet red by now. The feeling was making you dizzy, but you loved the way his hands felt and couldn't help but secretly want more. Why was he doing this to you? Without responding, you grabbed his large hands and removed them from your waist, still holding them as you swung one leg around his body to straddle him. He watched your every move, observing the way your cheeks darkened as you tried to avoid his gaze. You released his hands, letting them rest on your sides as you carefully draped your arms around his neck and rested your chin on his shoulder. You were sure he felt your heart pounding through your chest. The sound of his laugh filled your ears as he snaked his arms around you, pulling your body closer to him causing your front to be pressed against his. You held back a whimper as he began playing with your hair with one hand, running his fingers through it a little too frequently for your heart to handle. "See? It's not so bad," he smiles widely. "And now I'm not cold anymore."

"Shut up," you whined slightly. You could practically hear him smirking, making you groan and bury your face into the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. Yunho's heart skipped a beat when he felt your short breaths on his neck, making him breathe a little heavier underneath you. His mind wandered to unholy places as he imagined you kissing down his neck. You felt his hold around you tighten slightly as he kept running his fingers through your hair. You could feel your arousal starting to flow from your heat, your skin feeling like it was on fire as you tried to shift slightly, holding back the urge to squirm too much. Your small movements caused Yunho to let out a shaky exhale as he felt his length harden beneath you. He tried his best to calm himself down, but your constant shifting and your faint breaths on his neck almost made him lose his self-control. Feeling your body on top of his was making him feel things he'd never felt before. He wanted to take your face in his hands and press kisses to your lips and cheeks, slowly making his way down your body...

He shouldn't be feeling this way about his best friend, should he?

"Yuyu?" You called his name, nearly a whisper. "Yeah?" He breathed, feeling even more aroused hearing his old nickname spill from your lips, almost sounding like a whimper. You didn't answer, letting your lips graze his neck lightly. Not really thinking about your actions, you responded by shyly pressing a light kiss onto his neck, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. The sound of your lips kissing his skin made his member shamelessly twitch in his sweatpants. He exhaled sharply, wondering how you could make him this horny with just the bare minimum. He couldn't take this anymore, at this point he was prepared to fall to his knees and beg to touch you. "Please do that again," he urged, almost pleading. You hesitated for a moment before dropping another gentle kiss onto his neck, then another, listening to his unsteady exhales as you began kissing down his neck. You attached your lips to his skin and sucked delicately, swirling your tongue around the sensitive skin before sucking harder. You felt his fingers entangling themselves into the hair at your nape, carefully grabbing a handful. His hips slightly rolled upward towards your clothed core, making you let out a small whine. You removed your lips from his neck with a small pop. You rested your head on his shoulder again as you both listened to each other's heavy breathing, the sounds coming from the TV forgotten a long time ago. "It—It left a mark," you mumbled quietly, barely able to form proper sentences with desire slowly consuming you. You traced over the small hickey delicately with your fingers. "I'm sorry." You felt Yunho's hand on your cheek, pulling your face closer to his and feverishly pressing his lips against yours, kissing you slowly. You kissed back eagerly, butterflies exploding in your stomach and consuming you with a newfound obsession. His tongue slid inside of your cavern, exploring it as he swallowed your whimpers. One hand reached down to grab your thigh, groping the supple flesh and rubbing your inner thigh with his thumb slowly. The action caused you to buck your hips against his erection, making him groan gently against your lips. You detached your lips from each other's, breathing heavily as you met his gaze. Yunho's eyes were darkened with lust, his pupils blown out as he scanned your face. "Jesus (Y/N)," he stammered, almost not believing that he just made out with you on his couch. "Fuck, you make me wanna do things to you but—should we even be doing this? I'm scared I'll ruin what we have," he questions doubtfully, his ears turning bright red. You shook your head in response. "You won't ruin anything," you whispered softly, studying his beautiful features and reaching a hand up to run your fingers through his hair. "If we do this, I won't wanna stop. I mean—I've wanted you for a while, I don't want this to be just a one-time thing. To me this is more than that," Yunho rambled, letting his thoughts flow out without thinking. You leaned closer to him, giving him a small peck. "Yuyu, do you love me?" You asked quietly, watching his eyes widen slightly at your question. "I've always loved you. I just don't think I realized it until recently," he replies after taking a moment to think. "We spend so much time together and it always makes me so happy, I love hanging out and watching movies with you. You always take such good care of me and..." He trails off slightly. "God, when you wear my clothes it does things to me. You look really good in them. You're so pretty," he breathes, adoring the way your face flushed at his praises. You avoided his eyes, too embarrassed to admit your feelings. "(Y/N)," he whispers. "Do you wanna go further than this?" He asks carefully, making sure not to move too fast. You nodded slightly, resting your forehead against his. "If we do this, promise me it won't be a one-time thing," you commanded, reaching your pinky out to him. "I promise you it won't," he assures, locking his pinky with yours and sealing the promise.

·𖥸·

You were straddling Yunho's lap again, his back pressed against the headboard of his bed as his lips molded against yours slowly and passionately. The sounds of small moans and shaky exhales filled the room as you rocked your hips back and forth onto his erection. His hands that were settled on your waist traveled down to grab your ass, guiding your movements and bucking his hips up against you. You broke the kiss, your head falling onto his shoulder as you whimpered at the feeling. "Yunho," you breathed, reaching down to toy with the hem of his t-shirt. "I think I'm ready now." You felt his hands reach under your shirt, caressing your skin before he carefully pulled your shirt over your head. He stared at your chest which was adorned in a gray bra, making his face heat up as he slid a hand up to knead your mound. "Fuck," he muttered as he snakes his free hand behind to unclip your bra and throw it carelessly onto his bedroom floor. He pulled you closer to him, attaching his lips onto your bud and swirling his tongue around it slowly, falling in love with your erotic noises that you tried so desperately to hold in. You hurriedly yanked his shirt off, losing all patience as you threw it on the floor somewhere with your bra and untied the bow of his sweatpants. He lifted his hips a bit, allowing you to easily remove his sweatpants and boxers. His length was larger than you anticipated, causing you to let out a small gasp. "Like what you see?" He chuckled teasingly, his voice coming out slightly strained. You met his eyes, shooting him a harsh glare. "Shut up," you muttered, wrapping a hand around his throbbing member as you watched his smile disappear and change into a face of pleasure. You stroked him gently as he scanned over your half-naked form with a sinful gaze. "Take those off," he mutters, gesturing to your shorts. You slid them off along with your panties with your free hand, slightly speeding up your movements on his member. Quiet moans slipped past his lips repeatedly as he used his last bit of self control to stop your hand. "Stop, stop," he groaned, taking deep breaths. "I'm gonna cum if you keep going, (Y/N)." Your cheeks turned a dark red at his words. He took a moment, attempting to calm down after almost cumming into your hand. "You don't last very long, huh?" You teased halfheartedly, trying your best to hide the nervous tremble in your voice. You felt him pull you close, lining himself up towards your entrance. "It's only because it's you," he mumbles as he wraps his arms around you. Your heart was pounding, and you were almost positive Yunho could feel it through your chest. "I promise I'll help you finish before me."

He pushed in slowly, small moans spilling from your mouths as he bottomed out. A small whimper of pain escaped your throat, and Yunho tightened his hold around you. "Does it hurt? Do you need me to stop?" He questions with a worried tone. You shook your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "Just move already," you whined, slightly circling your hips around him in an attempt to grow used to his size. His breath hitched as he grabbed your hips tightly, slowly guiding you up and almost pulling out before he slid back in completely. He kept his slow pace, taking his time and enjoying every second of being inside of you. You felt every inch of him as he fucked into you, small whines and moans leaving your mouth despite your best efforts to hold them in. "Don't hide them," he commanded breathlessly. "I need to hear you, (Y/N)." His voice dripped with lust and desperation, causing you to whimper loudly. No one has ever turned you on so much, but Yunho had managed to make you the horniest you'd ever been in one night and with nothing but his very existence. Your skin burned where he touched you, sweat beading at your forehead as your moans involuntarily became louder. He quickened his thrusts, the heavenly sound of his groans reaching your ears and making you even more desperate for him. The headboard behind him began colliding with the wall, the slight banging sounds completely lost to both of you as you focused on pleasing each other. You felt like you were falling apart under him, and you found yourself longing to be entwined with him forever. "Yuyu," you mewled, desperately grabbing at his shoulders. He groaned deeply, your sweet nickname causing him to twitch inside of you. "Yeah, baby?" He sighed, trying to regain his composure. He knew he wouldn't last long if you said his name like that again. "I love you," you murmured, feeling the tight knot in your abdomen beginning to unravel. "Oh fuck," he moaned, his heart fluttering due to those three simple words. He removed his hands from your hips and wrapped his arms around you into a bear hug, quickening his thrusts into you. "Please say that again, (Y/N), please..." He trailed, dangerously close to reaching his high. Your lewd moans were like music to his ears as you struggled to speak through your pleasure, "I l-love you, I love you s-so much," You rambled, your hole tightening around his erection as you neared your release, "'M gonna—"

You couldn't finish your sentence before your high enveloped you, biting hard on Yunho's shoulder as broken cries and moans fell from your lips. His moans only became louder as he fucked you through your orgasm. The sounds of you falling apart on him tipped him over the edge, his orgasm coming seconds after yours. "(Y/N)," he whimpered as he finished inside of you, those three words still replaying in his mind like a broken record as he fucked you full of his seed. His thrusts slowed as he stilled, still inside of you as you both struggled to catch your breath. He held you tightly against him still, your sweat-covered bodies tangled closely together.

"I never thought I would cum from someone telling me they loved me," Yunho laughed shakily, breaking the silence and still attempting to steady his breathing. A breathless giggle tore itself from your weak body, his remarks never failing to make you laugh even during a moment like this. "You're such an idiot," you grinned as you fought to keep your heavy eyelids open. You felt his fingers gently combing through your hair as sleep threatened to take you. "Yeah," he sang, "I'm your idiot, (Y/N)~"

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#ateez smut #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez yunho #ateez imagines #mountainficss

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starsofjewels · 2 months ago

Note

hi i love your gregor fic!!! i have a request if that’s cool, so ya know how rhaenyra and daemon snuck out and went to flea bottom and to the brothel in hotd, welll i was thinking princess!reader and gregor her guard they sneak off and go into a brothel and ykyk!! then like the next day, someone goes to the queen and small council to tell them the rumors and sandor is just like in the corner 🤨🫢🫨

Tarnishment

Gregor Clegane x Baratheon Princess! Reader

NSFW!!

Any and all characters depicted in NSFW pieces are of legal age.All characters are also consenting (Unless specificed by piece)

CONTENT: SMUT- Nudity, fingering, climbing the Mountain (obviously), assumed! Murder, canon compliant! Sex work (prostitutes, brothels etc), mentions of alcohol (mostly wine), implied! Infidelity (Baratheon Princess does it Nyra style)

Delicious smut underneath the cut

Greggie C, Big Bob and the Lannisters are all their own individual warnings.

Word Count: 3.6K

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Holy frickle frackle mackrel I genuinely loved writing this so much- WHY do you all how so many good ideas OH MY LORD.

Thank you so much for this, we are all sluts for Greggie now. Gods be good.

I'm trying to get through my requests, but soon we'll have lil sprinklings of things- I've got another Ramsay and a very special surprise fic (hold your excitement) lined up for y'all once I'm done my requests.

Live, Laugh, Gregor Clegane.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Tarish (verb): To compromise, damage, soil or sully.

When your mother bears you a little brother, at the grand age of seven, you are old enough to understand that your importance has dropped significantly. You were never going to be heir to the throne, not whilst your father has two living brothers, but there is still a general sense that you are no longer as necessary to the Baratheon lineage, not now little baby Joffrey has a golden cradle, with yellow hair to match.

Your father doesn’t care much for Joffrey, or Tommen, or Myrcella. You don’t think he cares for much besides wine and whores and hunting down animals in the Godswood. He calls your siblings the ‘Lion Pups’, a secret joke between the two of you. They could pass as pure Lannisters, with their slim figures and golden hair, but you? You are your father’s Baratheon princess, and you are his most favourite.

After your first blood, and, coincidentally enough, Joffrey’s fourth nameday, your father decides you should each have a member of the Kingsguard to take care of you. The crown prince is now too old to need a nurse, and you are a fertile little lady- The phrasing makes you cringe- You need protection from debauchery, as your mother says. You wonder if the world is truly so terrible that a man could desire you.

Cersei wants to give you the Hound, but you are far too good for Sandor Clegane, the Burned Knight. So you get his brother, the Mountain, and already you know why the men shiver when they see him, and why women hide their babies. Joffrey is given over to Sandor, to your mother’s dismay.

And so, it begins. You attend your lessons on the back of a Mountain, you watch him fight and train as you sew, and when you go into town you are permitted to stray into the markets and shops, with your personal guard barely a foot behind. You remind yourself you have more freedoms than any princess when you receive another scolding from your mother, when you long to attend the hunts.

You are an affectionate person, Cersei knows that, but even she grows suspicious at how close Gregor has gotten to you. He carries you places as though you are his bride, as though you could not walk without him, and whispers begin of your behaviour in private being far less innocent. But, there is no evidence.

Summer is a privilege and a pain all at the same time. The palace is hot, and sticky, as are you. Even with the soft breezes of night, the warmth hides not so far away. If anyone were to see you, they’d find you most indecent. Your nightdress is short, and covers just enough of your cleavage that your nipples are not exposed. If you jumped, or did anything other than walk a few slow paces, you aren’t sure they wouldn’t be.

“Alright, Princess?”

You hadn’t realised Gregor was standing there. You are too hot and too bored to do anything more than feel a bit sorry for yourself. He knows that.

The response you give is somewhere between a groan and a grunt, it makes him laugh. You like to make him laugh, it reminds you he isn’t just the big, scary Mountain you see in his armour. Which you suddenly realise he isn’t wearing.

Your Mountain is dressed in a tunic, a red one- Lannister, obviously- And you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him without his armour. But then, you suppose he isn’t off duty very much, his duties are very much full-time.

“Mh- What are you wearing?”

Gregor moves closer, throwing something light upon your bed,

“Goin’ out. Get dressed.”

He pulls you out of bed, an action which reminds you of your nurses doing the same. The man pulls your nightdress up for you, pulling a simple dress more suited for one of the staff over you, and a cloak on the top.

“Thank Dana downstairs, she’s letting you borrow it.”

“Did you steal a dress?”

You are granted a shrug in response, you assume that means a yes.

Though Gregor is not easily disguised, there are plenty of ladies in the Keep with your hair colour and figure. You could just as easily be a whore as you are a princess, and that delights you.

The courtyard is dark and empty, no-one wants to venture out this late, not anyone who cares about their reputation, at least. The Street of Silk, and her sister streets, will all be bustling with off-duty guards, and whoever else feels the need for company. The guards stationed at the gates assume the same of Gregor when he passes, you think.

“Who’s watching the princess?”

Your heart jumps, you cling onto him almost suspiciously tightly, and you know that they notice.

“Do you think I care about the fucking duty board? Check yourself if you’re that bothered.”

The other scoffs at that, and you feel him jab your shoulder,

“Something wrong with your whore?”

“Don’t know, just taking her back.”

Gregor lifts you up, you hide your face in his shoulder. The guards let you pass, and once you are reasonably away from the Keep, he puts you back down.

“Arseholes.” The man looks back, keeping you close, “let’s have some fun, eh? I know the place.”

King's Landing is a seedy place, you know that even in the day, but at night, it ignites. The streets are filled with lust and shamelessness, you wonder if your septa might die at the sight of it. Whores line the streets, and you can tell which are the newer, poorer ones, and which of the women come from ‘respectable’ houses. He leads you through the Street of Silk, you know it even without any markers, from the drunk men lying against the walls, or on the ground, and you are frightened.

You see no silk, you see blood and piss and far too much of other women, but that is all.

The place he leads you to is clean, at least, and reasonably unassuming. There are candles and flowers outside, you wonder if this brothel is one of the higher-end ones, or if inside it is double as bad as the streets.

You are sat neatly on a cushioned bench, and ladies bring you drink. Wines, and ales and other alcohols you have neither heard about nor tasted. You see them giggle to themselves, and you realise that your disguise is poor. They all know the Baratheon princess has graced their presence. It will have some impact on you later, the thought crosses your mind as Gregor tilts your third cup of wine down your throat, when one of them is offered a pretty gold coin in exchange for all of your secrets.

But, you do not care. You are allowed to have fun, even if your idea of fun stems past the gossiping, and the sewing your mother would like you to do.

“Gods-”

You are drawn from your thoughts by Gregor, who sets another cup down on the table,

“You Baratheons really can drink, Princess, that’s your fifth tonight.”

Sure enough, the cup in your hand has four identical siblings, strewn about in various positions across the table, and one on the floor. The man shakes his head.

“Well, how many have you had?”

“Don’t take wine. Woman’s drink.”

When the music begins, you aren’t truly sure if it’s real, or if your alcohol-addled mind has simply hallucinated it to entertain you; but Gregor shuffles his huge form over, and puts an arm around your waist, glancing occasionally to the platform in front of you, so you assume it to be real.

The women who wear any clothes wear barely any at all. They dance with feathers, and pretty shiny things- Baubles and bells, which jingle with every step they take. Some have silver hair, Targaryen hair, and you are reminded that even though their fiery blood has faded out, given your father’s proclivity for murdering them, some men still want to tame the dragon. They wink, and they gasp, and they moan, as though their dancing is the most exciting thing they could have ever done. Some of the men- For it is all men- Jeer, they call them whores, and other words you can’t imagine anyone else repeating. It makes Gregor laugh, and for once you aren’t so sure if you like that. He notices, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll go to our room in a bit, yeah? You’ll like that.”

Not entirely sure what he means, you nod anyway.

The dancers end in a puff of smoke and incense, you pretend not to notice as they slip away, with one, or two, or even three men chasing after them. You wonder if three men could even fit inside the one woman, and your mind brings you to unsavoury places.

You don’t feel particularly drunk, the wine must have been watered down, but still, Gregor lifts you up to take you further into the brothel. The noises are no less than sinful- Groans, and cries and the screams of men as they finish themselves off. You hear names, whispered into the night, and the whores run to and from their entertainment rooms, in various states of blush and undress. Most are nude.

The room you are brought to is right at the top of the brothel, where the Madame keeps her office, and her favourite pets. It is clean, and scented by the flowers about the place. The bed itself, for there is always a bed, is covered in soft pink curtains, pulled back and tied with silver ribbon. There are no windows, and no fireplace.

“Only the best for the princess, eh? You’re lucky I did the Madame a favour.”

He has already pulled off his tunic, and sits upon the bed, pulling you onto him so your legs wrap around his waist,

“What did you do?”

“Killed her husband.”

You look up at him, pouting slightly.

“Why?”

“Because-” In an instant, his great body is atop of you, and you are slammed against the fabric of the bed. The thing itself creaks. “Your grandfather told me to.”

Gregor’s lips find your neck, his facial hair tickles against the skin, and you let yourself laugh,

“And you do everything the great Lord Tywin tells you to?”

The response you get is a grunt, and a squeal from your own lips when he pulls you closer toward him. You gain a kiss upon the lips for this intrusion.

“I do whilst I’ve his pretty granddaughter in a whorehouse.”

As he continues to put kisses on your exposed skin, travelling almost as low as your breast, you suddenly realise you’ve found yourself in an unusual position of power. In a whorehouse, on your back, with a man double your weight and at least a foot taller than you upon you. This is the power your mother has told you a woman holds.

“His pretty granddaughter, your princess. You should be serving me.”

You tilt your head away so he cannot see the smile which graces your face. He merely hums, near thoughtfully. Once again, you are lifted from below him, and put back on the throne you’ve made from his thighs.

“How does my princess want served, then?”

His free hand finds yours, and you play with it like a child might a shiny thing they find upon the pavement.

“Your fingers.”

“Aye, that’s a good plan,” He shakes his hand free from yours with little effort, it joins with the other at the small of your back, and poor Dana’s dress is torn to rags, leaving you in your little nightdress, the front having been pulled down completely, exposing your breasts to him. He says nothing. “Better get you prepared first, can’t bring you back split like a chicken, can I?”

“Are you… that big?”

Your eyes widen at your own speech, how utterly unashamed you can be. There is little more you can do to sully your reputation at this point than to actually have the man inside of you, and you aren’t completely sure you won’t. But he finds some amusement in your words, grasping you gently, pulling you closer toward him.

“All of me is big, Princess.”

He is right, his hands are each the size of your face, if not bigger. His height is something known and feared by every man, woman and child in the Seven Kingdoms, and you sit delicately on his lap, growing increasingly excited by the ideas of what he might do to you.

One of those big hands grazes your bare arse underneath your nightdress, even the gentlest squeeze, with his strength, turns into a reasonably harsh pinch. You squeak,

“Ow!”

Gregor tuts,

“If that hurts you, Princess, I doubt you’re ready for the next bit.”

It travels back down, across your thigh, and sets itself, with the amount of grace you expect from Gregor, just shy of your cunt. He helps you settle in a more comfortable position, and pushes his middle finger into you. It hurts, even his fingers are enormous, far greater than your own, but it feels wonderful. You must be whimpering, because he shushes you with kisses, moving slowly and carefully, not daring to give you another one.

A second has you sobbing, quietly begging for him to stop. He won’t, you know that, and most of you doesn’t want him to.

By the time he considers you ‘adequately prepared’, you are hardly sure of your own name, let alone anything more complicated. You are covered in sweat, a scarlet blush across your whole face, and an overwhelming sense that you should probably be quite ashamed of yourself.

Gregor sets you down from his lap, onto the bed. You hope the night’s activities aren’t over, you do so want what you were certain he’d give you. He seems to notice, a smile graces his face.

“Just a minute, Princess,” He sounds almost scolding, like a schoolmaster, “Can’t fuck you dressed, can I?”

“I… Suppose not, no.”

Whilst you still have some shred of dignity, even if your nightdress clings to the sweat on your skin, and leaves next to nothing to anyone’s imagination, Gregor strips himself down to his entirety. Every scar, every muscle of his is completely visible, and something about it completely delights you.

He almost laughs at how you gawk at him, eyes flicking between his legs, trying desperately not to show him you are, in fact, staring.

“Never seen a cock before?”

“Not… One I’m not directly related to, no.”

You are scooped back into his arms, onto your throne of flesh. Your Mountain bounces you just slightly, and you recall a nurse of yours doing the exact same thing at some point in your life. There is something oddly comforting about it.

He expects you to squeal and cry when it begins, when he pushes himself into you. And you do, just a little. There is a pressure you cannot quite explain, something eats at you from inside out, and your eyes fill up with pretty tears. He is there to make it better, of course, it is his duty to protect you.

Gregor is not the type of man to praise his woman, and he doesn’t. Not in words, at least. You cling to him, wrapped around his neck and whimpering into his shoulder, and he runs a hand up your clothed back in long, soothing motions. It does little to actually comfort you, but the thought behind it is nice. You are glad it’s this, and not the horror stories you’ve heard about your sworn guardian.

You know, in very limited detail, how a woman is supposed to give herself up to a man. You had thought it would hurt- That he would be rough, and you look down to see no blood, nor much of anything, his cock is hidden by the skirts of your nightdress. You wonder if that is enough to hide your sin from the gods.

“Alright, Princess?”

You cannot even look up to see his face, and you don’t know he’d want you to. Tears stream freely from your eyes, and all of you feels heavy, tired. You hope he’ll carry you back home.

“Nearly.”

The break in his voice does not escape you. At least you know what’s to happen.

And slowly, carefully, his hand on your back finds your thigh, and the one on your thigh crawls between your legs. You are already prepared, already overwhelmed, and just the slightest touch is enough to set you off again,

“Hold off, Princess,” Had you the strength, you would beg him not to stop. Thankfully, he doesn’t, “Just one minute.”

And you try, but it is just too much for you to handle. You attempt to tell him, to give him some warning, but he knows.

He comes with a great roar, something that makes you jump. Gregor holds you tight enough to bruise, a reminder of his power, of how vulnerable you actually are, but you hardly care.

Despite the very obvious plug between your legs, his seed still seeps out of you, onto your nice nightdress, onto him. You hadn’t thought it’d be so messy, but it does make some sense. You mutter something unintelligible, and he kisses your forehead. The world is good, and you wonder if anyone would find out should you make this a regular occurrence.

You awake the next morning in a different, more sensible nightdress. You smell clean, like lavender soap, like he’s had one of your ladies bathe you at some point. One enters with a breakfast tray, as per usual, and you pretend not to notice how she avoids your gaze. The two who help you dress are as chatty as usual. The older woman is as bubbly as ever, and her little assistant couldn’t frighten a sparrow if she wanted.

Gregor is usually standing outside when you emerge in the mornings. Today, it is Ser Meryn Trant. Not unusual, and nothing for concern; you assume Gregor has come down with a headache again. He suffers from them quite frequently, especially so in the hottest months.

Neither of you say anything, not until you’ve crawled down the steps and gotten to the throne room. Your muscles still ache, and your legs feel strange to walk upon, a night of being bent and thrown in any direction.

Tywin and Cersei are on either side of the throne; your mother sits, your grandfather stands. Your brother is tactfully in the corner, with his dog behind him. And the way Sandor looks at you, with undisguised disgust, you realise- they know.

Tywin’s face is still, your mother looks as though she might boil up at any given moment. The throne is empty, and you wonder where your father has gone.

“Princess,” It is Varys who speaks. Your mother’s little songbird, with nothing better to do than scour the kingdom for rumour, “We had heard some… rumours regarding your activities last night with Ser Gregor.”

You realise, this is your time to shine. You have always been dramatic, always good at making up little stories. You can fool your grandfather, you’ve always been able to. And if Lord Tywin is convinced, the rest of them shall follow; no-one doubts the Hand.

“W-What rumours, my lord?”

Cersei rolls her eyes. Your mother stands, moving down from the raised steps of the throne, facing you,

“You know what rumours. You were seen in a brothel last night, far past the time you should have been abed, and he carried you back half-naked. Do you deny it, Daughter?”

“I…”

You look between those in the throne room: your brother in the corner, his dog avoiding your gaze; Varys, and Littlefinger, your mother. Your gaze lands on Ser Meryn.

“Ser Gregor does not guard me at night.” You look at your grandfather, a sudden realisation coming upon you. “He is my personal guard, Grandfather, the Kingsguard have night duty. He needs to be rested for the day.”

Cersei flicks her head to Tywin, who appears to be thinking quite deeply,

“That is true, Ser Gregor has yet to be granted the white cloak.”

“Do you doubt my virtue, Grandfather? You know I would not lie on such matters, I am a princess, not a tavern wench.”

And he sighs, and you know that you’ve won him over,

“It is possible Ser Gregor entertained a woman of a- Similar appearance. The princess is not so foolish as to risk rumours of her purity, unlike some.”

A comment about your mother. You see Sandor smirk at it.

You are returned back to your bedchamber, and go about your day. The rumours are put aside, and it is decided that Gregor entertained a whore that night, no matter what anyone claims. There are plenty of men who take silver-haired whores as Targaryens, after all, there is hardly a difference with the new line of regency.

Later, you are put in front of your father after supper. He’s heard, of course, through Varys, or Tywin or Cersei, or all of the above. Not that it matters.

Robert is arse-deep in his cups, and he doesn’t show any sign of stopping. Your father wraps one of his great hands around your shoulders,

“Did you fuck him, then?”

And there is no answer you can give him but the truth.

“Aye, Father, I did.”

Robert spends the rest of the evening laughing uncontrollably, getting suitably drunk. Your nights with Gregor confine themselves to your rooms, or to a variety of places where a princess would not be so out of place. Everyone knows, and no one says a word. And one day, when your husband of a cushy, lordly house gives you child after child, no one shall say a word when they each emerge taller than the next, when their resemblance is shockingly similar to your personal guard, and not their supposed father.

#game of thrones x reader #got x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x y/n #got #house clegane #clegane #gregor clegane x reader #gregor clegane #game of thrones x reader smut #got smut #request #requested #I think I might just be a Greggie C writer now #And yk what?#If this is how the gods gave me my talent I'll take it #live laugh greggie c

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gvfgal · 2 years ago

Text

Bet I Can

Danny Wagner x reader

18+ so minors SCRAM!!!

Content Warnings: sexual content, squirting, slight overstimulation, fingering (f rec.), oral (f rec.), dirty talk, cheeky Danny... I think thats it.

A/n: From a wonderful ask about Danny making reader ~squirt~ for the first time. Couldn’t get the idea out of my head so I stayed up writing this little delicious blurb.

Word Count: 2.5k

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Have you ever squirted before?”

The question was completely random. Danny and you had retired for the night, both of you indulged in your own books in the comfortable silence of your shared bedroom.

You were beginning to grow tired, thinking about finding a stopping point for the night, that was until he hit you with that bomb of a question.

You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to see that all of his attention was directly on you, his book shut and in his lap.

“Geez, what are you reading over there,” you tried laughing it off.

“Brave New World, Aldous Huxley.”

“Funny, I must have skipped the chapter on squirting.”

Your eyes had found your own book again, flipping the page over listlessly, although you were no longer actually reading, just hoping that if you ignored the topic, he’d drop it.

You weren’t uncomfortable by any means, this was your boyfriend after all. But this was a conversation you weren’t sure how to navigate, you didn’t know what answer he was expecting, or what his reaction would be.

“Haha, very funny,” his tone was unamused yet still playful. He sat his book on the nightstand before rolling over on his stomach between your legs, looking up at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his, those same eyes that made you fall for him many months ago.

“I’m serious, have you?”

You closed your own book now, leaving your finger tucked between pages so you wouldn’t lose your place before looking down at him with a teasing glare.

“What makes you ask?”

His long fingers began playing with the tattered bottom of your DIY crop top as he gave an indifferent shrug.

“I was just thinking about how I love watching you cum. Not just the faces you make, although that’s wonderful too,” his lips placed a delicate kiss on your stomach, “but the way you drip, and leak, all over me, it’s so beautiful y/n.”

Okay, he had your attention now. This was slightly out of character for your Daniel. Sure, when it came to sex he knew exactly what to do and how to do it, but he’d never been so forward with something so crass before, especially out of the blue. It turned you on to a significant degree, but you wouldn’t let him know that just yet.

Mimicking his earlier action, you turned and sat your book on your respective nightstand as he continued to talk.

“And I was just thinking how incredibly sexy it would be to see you squirt, to feel it.”

He kissed your stomach again, only this time he allowed his tongue to make an appearance, gliding it along your skin slowly until he sealed it over with a peck on your belly button.

You lifted your hand to rub in his scalp, hair still slightly damp from the shower he’d taken only an hour ago.

“So I’m guessing you weren’t really over there reading then?”, you joked, and he looked up at you with the eyes of a toddler who had been caught red handed.

You giggled, “what’s gotten into you tonight, Daniel? I hardly recognize the man that lays with me.”

His eyes rolled, though he wasn’t annoyed at all, and he sat up to look you directly in the eyes.

“Come on, doll, why are you avoiding the question? You don’t have to be shy, it's just me.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, ducking your face between them to hide the blush that began to spread over your face.

Slowly, you shook your head.

“No?”, he clarified leaning closer to you by just an inch.

“No,” you finally spoke up, only it was muffled by your legs that you refused to move away from your face.

Danny reached up and tenderly pulled your legs back down, letting his thumb skate over them.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt foolish for being so embarrassed about the conversation. This was Daniel Wagner, your gentle giant, no matter how lewd he was at the moment, you had absolutely no reason to be scared.

“No I haven’t,” you spoke up a little louder, straightening your back a bit, “I don’t even know if I can.”

“What makes you think that?”, he asked genuinely, his hands still stroking along your skin.

You trembled as you inhaled, the heat in the room and in your own body beginning to grow more and more by the second.

“I- I just…” you thought on it for a moment, “I don’t think that my body could…”

A breathy moan floated out of you as he began to nibble at your earlobe, his warm breath dancing across the expanse of your neck.

“See that’s where we differ, y/n. Because I think it could. I think I could make you.”

This was a version of Danny you could definitely get used to. Confident. Almost demanding, but still just sweet enough. It had you unraveling, already beginning to pool in your underwear (which weren’t the sexiest, simple black cotton bikinis, but you weren’t expecting this tonight.)

“Yeah?”, you shuddered out the question as he maneuvered you onto your back.

He hovered over you, his long coils framing your face and a love struck smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, I do.”

His long fingers began rubbing you through the fabric of your panties, eyebrows shooting up slightly at the discovery of how wet you already were.

And God, were his eyes striking when they found yours again, 4 shades darker and shimmering with mischief.

You whined rather pathetically and ground your body down onto his fingers, chasing more friction than what he was giving you, and that cheeky bastard loved it.

“You want me to show you, doll? Show you how I can make this pussy really cry?”

Truthfully, he could’ve done that just by continuing talking the way he was, you were sure of it, but right now, you needed to feel something, anything from him.

“Show me, Danny,” you nodded, completely giving your body over to him to do as he pleased.

He sat up on his knees, palming his semi hard erection through his sweats with a low groan, one that shot another wave of heat straight to your cunt.

“How do you want it baby? With my fingers? My mouth?”, he gripped his member a little tighter, “my cock?”

You were staring up at him like he was some sort of ethereal being, because in that moment he truly was one, and you needed him badly.

Sitting up on your elbows, you gripped his shirt tightly in your fists, a look of desire met with a cocky grin on his face.

“I don’t care, Daniel. Just give me something, anything baby please.”

He lifted his head to look down his nose at you, God that perfect fucking nose.

“I love it when you beg,” his voice was darker now as he continued tugging at himself, and it sent a chill up your spine, not out of fear, but out of pure desperation.

“Do it again, beg me to make you squirt, doll.”

You were practically drooling from your cunt now, this domineering aura that Danny was exuding had you just about ready to do anything he asked. He could tell you to do a somersault and you would.

But all he wanted you to do was beg, and you’d do it gladly.

“Please,” your voice was but a whisper now, “please daddy. Make me squirt. Show me you can do it.”

His hand lovingly stroked your cheek, but in a split second, he had you in a tight grasp, pulling you up to meet his face.

He crashed his lips onto yours, a wild, untamed kiss before pulling away, his eyes boring into you, “as you wish.”

You fell back to the bed as he let you go, pulling his shirt over his head and using the hair tie around his finger to tie his hair back, a sure sign that you were in for something serious.

“All you have to do,” he began as he pulled your underwear down, sending a quick slap to your slick center, “is listen to exactly what I tell you, okay?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“Okay?” It was more pointed this time, his eyes looked at you in warning.

“Yes sir. I’ll listen.”

“Good.”

Nothing happened for several moments, his orbs were transfixed on your wet folds, and you, a panting mess of pure desire below him.

Without warning, Danny spit down onto your cunt, and you flinched and gasped at the erotic display. He’d never done it before, but you’d make sure he would do it again.

He lowered himself onto his stomach, back in the position he was early as he mixed your fluids with his own using two of his digits.

You rocked your hips down onto his fingers, your body practically screaming for more, bringing your own hands up to your chest and rolling your erect nipples between your fingers.

“Just lay back and relax, okay? Let me get you there.”

A response wasn’t necessary, he was ready, and he knew you were too.

Lowering his head, Danny began licking at your center, focusing mainly on your clit, inserting two fingers into your waiting hole.

You lurched forward with a loud, drawn out moan, one hand shooting into his damp curls and tugging.

Danny groaned into you, splaying his tongue out to kitten lick your swollen nub.

His fingers were angled perfectly, repeatedly hitting that delicious spongey spot hidden deep inside of you, and your eyes crossed at the mixture of his digits and his mouth working you fiercely.

“Danny what the fuck? Oh my god,” you sobbed. Plenty of times in the past Danny has eaten you out and fingered you simultaneously, but never had it felt this good. He was working like he had something to prove, and you couldn’t contain all the noises that streamed from you.

His tongue continued to work, dipping down to tease at your hole before coming up and showing unwavering attention to your clit again.

“You taste like fucking heaven y/n,” he lifted his head to look at your fucked out expression, “it should be a sin, really.”

His fingers moved in a particular way that caused you to wail out into the empty house, and Danny’s mouth dropped open slightly at the sight.

“You’re gonna make me cum already, daddy. Fuck.”

Danny nodded, signaling to you that it was okay to do so as his mouth met your center again.

He nibbled at your clit gently with his teeth, something he’d never done before, and it sent you into a complete spiral. You were squirming frantically, chasing your end, and with a few final pumps of his fingers, and a couple deliberate flicks of his tongue, you came undone around him.

You cursed, and moaned, and groaned, calling out to him in the haze of your orgasm, the grip you had in his hair tightening, and through it all, he never stopped, not even for a moment.

He never even slowed his movements, the sounds of him devouring you battling the sounds of your state of bliss.

Once it had completely washed over you, you tried your hardest to bring your head up to look at him, and his eyes were primal.

“Danny wha- what..” you tried your hardest to inquire, but it was no use.

You could barely make out the action of him nodding, but you know he did, and to your surprise, he slipped a third finger into your clenching hole.

He pulled his mouth away, replacing his tongue with two fingers on his other hand so he could talk you through it.

“Don’t fight it doll, okay? Just let it happen.”

Your head fell back on the pillow, the overstimulation starting to catch up to you.

“Danny I have to… wait I have to..”

“No baby,” he sent a long lick to your pussy, “you’re okay, just trust me.”

“It feels so good, fuckkkkk,” you cried out to him. As sensitive as you were, you didn’t want him to stop, you could feel another orgasm approaching, but this one felt different.

“I know it does doll,” he mumbled into you, “just breathe. Let it come to you.”

You nodded in compliance, trusting him fully.

His tongue resumed flicking along your delicate clit relentlessly, his fingers keeping perfect time, and before you knew it, you were once again teetering on the edge.

“I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Squirt for me angel,” he growled between his licks, “I can feel it. Feel that cunt tightening around me. I know you can do it. Show me you can,” he threw your words back at you.

Done with talking, he let his mouth do the work, he knew he had you on a hook, it was all up to you to let it happen.

Your entire body began to shake, and on an exhale, your vision went completely white.

The only tell on what was happening, was the dampness you felt pooling in the sheets around you, and the pure satisfaction in Danny’s voice.

“Look at that, look how fucking gorgeous, baby. Making such a fucking mess.”

His fingers moved at an unbelievably quick pace, and had you not been so caught up in your rapture, you would’ve been a tad embarrassed at the sound of your release and Danny’s digits combined.

It was filthy to say the least, the splashing sound that took over the room, but so delicious at the same time.

You thought you’d never come down from the feelings that engulfed you, but through the blur you could hear Danny’s gentle voice cooing praises to you, coaxing you back down to earth slowly but surely.

“There you go baby, you’re okay. Just breathe for me.”

His movements were much slower now, and after a few moments, you willed your eyes to open, met with a look of enchantment on your boyfriend's face.

You fought to catch your breath, “did I do it?”

Danny’s smile was warm as he nodded, “yeah doll, you did.”

In reality, it was a stupid question, his chest was glistening and the sheets were completely soaked. Even the tips of his hair were dampened.

“You should’ve seen it, you looked so stunning, never seen anything like it before. You did so good.”

You blushed at his praise, “well maybe next time we’ll have to get it on camera yeah?”

He beamed down at you, and you returned your best smile, exhaustion taking over you.

“Now that’s something I can get behind.”

He planted a sugary kiss on your mouth, the taste of yourself making you whimper.

“Tastes good, huh?”, he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “wait right here, I’ll get you all cleaned up my love.”

You nodded, “what about the sheets? They’re ruined.”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

As he stood from the bed, you couldn’t ignore the large imprint that swung loosely in his sweats.

“And what about you, and your…” you gestured towards it.

He looked down and chuckled, “I’ll take care of that, too. Your mission is complete tonight, soldier.”

You laughed rather loudly at that, before turning serious again, “you sure? I feel kinda bad, Dan.”

“Don’t worry baby, I got everything I wanted tonight, trust me, I’ll handle it.”

He turned to walk towards the bathroom, but stopped and turned back to you with a smirk, “and maybe I’ll let you watch.”

#greta van fleet #daniel wagner #greta van fleet smut #gvf #danny gvf #greta van smut #greta van fic #gvf fic #danny wagner fic #danny wagner smut

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funkletrunk · 1 year ago

Text

“ I’m so sorry that they pick you last” - letter to my 13 year old self by laufey

pairings! + dazai osamu & reader

mentions of ada members, hurt no comfort, reader has anxiety !! enjoy

cross posted to ao3 @/mrfrunklewonk

The party was too cramped, neon lights flashing over the tipsy crowd. Bodies huddled together, dancing and drinking. To get through them all just to find your party was already a tiring mission on its own. One of the ADA members suggested that they go out to party, to loosen up a little. You weren’t much of a party person but they convinced you to tag along. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your relationship with your colleagues, you were already unsociable enough to begin with. Focusing on work and only polite small talk when necessary. But he changed that.

Dazai bothered you every day nonstop, and whether it was his intention or not, he got you to open up. And his efforts certainly didn’t go unnoticed, the little outings, the flowers in the morning on your desk. You smiled a little more, talked a little more, and a little louder. You became brighter as a person and more sociable. You were still shy and quiet, don’t get that wrong, but he helped you open your heart to more people by forcing himself in there first. Your heart hammered, knowing he was going to be there. He was the reason you were going, having persuaded you while walking you home.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“(Name),” His arms are behind his back, taking long strides next to you. You look at him, humming back in response as you observe his facial features. If he notices your ogling, he says nothing. “You’re going to come to the party right?” He turns to look at you with a smile while you, in return, look away. Your face scrunches as you think and Dazai's smile only grows wider at this. “I don’t know..” “It’ll be fun! Just come, and I’ll make sure you have a great time!!” You look back at his face, a wide grin stretched on it while he gives you a thumbs up. You sigh nod your head and chuckle as you watch Dazai celebrate your answer.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Not that you’ll let your coworkers know that, you’ll just let them think it was their “convincing” that made you come.

You squeezed through the crowds and saw familiar figures sitting in the distance on some sofas in the back. You smiled, getting a little excited as you scurried over to them. You made sure to wear a nice outfit tonight, hoping it’ll impress your coworkers and Dazai. You walk over to Kunikida who is standing rather than sitting with some of the others, scribbling away in his book (typical). “Hello Kunikida-san!” “Oh, hello (Name).” He barely looked up, acknowledging your presence in the slightest. You don’t take it to heart, though, you know he can get very absorbed with his writing. Your eyes drift over to Yosano, Ranpo, Tanizaki, and Naomi on the couch.

You walk over and try to find a space to sit, but there’s no more space so you just stand as you politely greet everyone. Yosano gives you a hello before going back to talking to a grumpy Ranpo, who does not acknowledge your presence at all. You figure it must be important and try not to start a conversation. Tanizaki and Naomi both waved with a small smile and before you could try talking to them, they went back to chatting together. You uncomfortably shifted, rubbing your arm and looking around. Everyone was busy and both Atsushi and Dazai were missing. (Kyouka and Kenji were too young, and Fukuzawa disliked outings like such).

You’re looking around and you see two figures approaching from a door to the left, walking towards your group. As they get closer, you realize it's the two missing members of the group and sigh a little with relief. Besides Dazai, Atsushi was second to make sure you felt most welcome as the newest ADA member. You admired his compassion and bravery. You wave with a smile to the two. Atsushi smiles weakly and waves back and Dazai keeps blabbering on in his ear, his eyes closed and his arms flailing around dramatically. Your smile drops a little, but you’re sure it wasn’t intentional so you grab Dazai’s sleeve and tug on it lightly. He quickly goes quiet, peeking open his eyes to look at you. He smiles at you, albeit it seems a little forced.

“Ah, (Name), you made it!” “Just like you asked,” You averted your eyes shyly and before you could speak again, Dazai's velvet-like voice cut through the air. “I’m sorry (Name) but I happen to have business with Atsushi tonight, could you please excuse us?” You feel your skin crawl and prickle with anxiety, suddenly snapping your eyes up to look at his shut ones. “You’re going to leave me on my own?” “I’m sure there’s another member who wants to talk to you” “Nobody wants to talk to me Dazai, I’ve been ignored since I’ve gotten here!”

Your breathing is fast, your heart rapidly beating as you feel your eyes prickle with tears. You watch as Dazai opens his eyes to observe you with a straight face. Atsushi is still standing next to Dazai, feeling awkward and guilty about the whole situation. “Then maybe you should go home.” You can barely register the words out of his mouth, head spinning and heart thumping. Your head droops, tears building up and threatening to fall. “Alright, I guess I will.” And you leave. You make your way onto the street, the cold night breeze stinging your tear-stained cheeks as you walk home. You can’t believe you thought this time would be different.

“Dazai-san, was that necessary? I’m sure she just wanted to have a good time with us! And is it safe to let a woman walk home on her own at this time?” Atsushi stares at Dazai, frantically spitting out each word faster than the last. Dazai stares at the door where she left before placing a hand on Atsushis shoulder. “She’s a member of the ADA, she’ll be just fine Atsushi.” Dazai smiles at him and waves him off to go get them both drinks. He looks back towards the door, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Sometimes people just need to learn how to live on their own.”

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #hurt/no comfort #i cried #no beta we die like fyodor #one sided feelings but only if you squint

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myuntoldstory · 16 days ago

Note

HP prompt request(James/Lily AU where they live): “how was Harry’s first day in kindergarten?”

don't lose the way that you dance

doing a "two birds, one stone" type of thing by, finally, answering this ask. my sincerest apologies, anon, for the grossly late reply. things happened between when you sent this and now, and things have been tough.

and also, putting this in for @jilytoberfest's 31 prompts 2024. seeing my fic on their bingo card gave me a burst of inspiration big enough to finally finish this story and contribute.

and finally, i'm, posting this to celebrate your love thawed out being so close to 100 kudos. really cool. thank you to everyone who've read and gave it some love, i really do appreciate it.

Prompt 6: Making food together | Prompt 27: "what if it doesn't work" "what if it does work" (sorry, i know the 27th is 2 or 3 days away but i'm doing a pre-emptive thing; knowing myself if i hold onto it for too long it won't ever go out)

Death never fazed James, especially not during the war. But little does he know it has different faces—that loss is not just about losing life but also about living it. Within the landscape of grief are winding paths and forked roads. No, James has never feared losing his life—but losing Harry... losing what was once was to make way for what will be, for what is supposed to be, well… That fucking terrifies him.

A short story set after "your love thawed out". James and Lily accompany Harry for his first day of kindergarten and reflect on this new stage of their lives.

Based on Taylor Swift's song "Never Grow Up".

read on ao3 or under the cut

warnings: a loose interpretation of the prompts

“Out cold, Macdonald.”

“Hmm.”

Sirius approaches as Mary pulls a blanket over Harry’s prone form, tucking him in as he dozes off. He watches her remove his glasses, folding them and placing them on the coffee table. The gentleness in her touch is obvious as she brushes messy locks of hair from his eyes.

“Crashed about, what, five minutes of playing?” she murmurs playfully.

Sirius snorts, nudging her with his foot. “Join us when you’re done.”

“Yep—don’t frost everything without me.”

“Never.”

With a parting grin, he makes his way to the kitchen, where James and Lily stand by the island. Plates of naked cupcakes, bowls of frosting, and piping bags filled with different-coloured frosting cover the surface. Little containers of toppings, from candied fruit to lollies, fill what space is left. Lily pipes a gradient of red and yellow icing in a perfect swirling pattern on top of a cupcake before passing it to James, who decorates it with the toppings.

“So,” Sirius drawls, taking a cupcake and piping bag filled with solid Ravenclaw-blue frosting. “How was Harry’s first day of class?”

“Oh—”

Sirius focuses on piping, fully expecting James to answer without even looking up. He patiently waits, shooting furtive looks at Lily to try and copy what she’s doing. He squeezes, and an amorphous blob comes out. His brow twitches in annoyance before trying again, this time mindful of the pressure he puts in—what comes out instead is a fat dollop. Sighing in irritation, he glances up expectantly when James takes too long. His best mate hastily schools his expression to that of overly bright optimism.

“It’s…”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

How long have they been standing there?

Seconds ago, it was bright— too bright. And noisy. So cacophonous that every sound had solidified; it no longer bounced around in echoes but absorbed… somewhere. Children everywhere—each unique in shape and size, but all with the same loudness, the same jittering excitement, anxiety, and curiosity. Parents everywhere, too, all wrapped up in goodbyes—warning teachers, giving hugs and kisses. The emotions on display fit a varied spectrum from excited to devastated—but all proud. All of them relieved—probably because they’ve gained some independence back.

Against the wall, James sighs—against his chest, Lily breathes in shakily. Her shoulders shake. He glances at the top of her head, combing his fingers through her tresses. Safe to say they are on the “devastated” end of the spectrum. He tips his head and stares at the ceiling. The cool fluorescent light burns into his retinas, but he barely notices. He sinks into his thoughts.

They’ve been preparing for this moment for years. That it’s over in an instant is almost insulting—more so when he realises they’re still ill-equipped for it.

A door creaks open. He senses movement before seeing it. He straightens, holding Lily closer and bringing his arm higher around her head to hide her away from the view of whichever curious onlooker decides to barge in on them. Laughter and chatter spill from the gap, filling the hallway with brightness and echoes. He realises then that the door leads to a classroom. A woman pokes her head out, gazing at them with polite but wary curiosity. James smiles tightly. The silence in the hallway tenses, but he doesn’t deign to break it. The woman hesitates, realisation dawning on her expression.

“Er…” she says, breaking the ice, voice lacking any real authority. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” James answers, smile turning more sheepish. “Yes—sorry, we just dropped our son off, so...”

Wary curiosity melts into sympathy. “Oh, I see.”

“We’ll be on our way soon.”

“No, no, please. Take your time.”

With a warmer smile, the woman pulls back and closes the door.

Silence again.

James blows out a heavy sigh, his cheeks puffing, thumping his head against the wall. He squeezes Lily, rubbing her back to get her to look at him. A hairline fracture runs across his heart. Seeing Lily is like dropping weight on it, causing it to branch and score deeper. His wife is all redness and tears, though, somehow, still practically glowing—from the rims of her eyes to the tip of her nose and the arch of her cupid’s bow.

With a sad scoff, she pouts miserably. The corners of his lips can’t help tugging up. He allows the smile, but it’s tinted with sympathy and understanding. He kisses her forehead and pets her hair.

“Come along, Mrs Potter.” He lets go, except for her hand. “Playground’s at the back.”

“Playground?” Lily sniffles, wiping the tears away.

“Harry’s waiting.”

He leads the way, and she follows easily.

The playground is like any other. It has the typical equipment: a jungle gym, slide, swings, seesaw, spinners, and climbers. A giant sandbox sits at the centre. A garden of herbs, vegetables, and flowers sits closer to the classrooms. Benches dot the area, covered by a canopy of branches from the trees around it. James barely notices all of this as he leads Lily toward the swings. There’s a subtle poke, a niggling at the back of his neck. He looks towards the building, at the glass double doors, and the scores across his heart almost splinter apart.

Harry.

His little face and hands pressed against the pane, all red the same way as Lily—eyes, nose, and cupid’s bow. There is a suspicious shine to his gaze, but no tears have fallen—yet. Not like before. Before, it was like a waterfall when he realised they had to leave him.

James remembers how each drop is a stab in his gut, in his soul. No matter how much he wiped them away, they kept coming and coming until they pulled the most heart-wrenching wails out of his son’s mouth. The force of it pushed Harry’s little arms out, clutching at him and Lily, tiny hands gripping with all his strength. James didn’t want to let go—wanted to hold his son close and take him home. With his wife. Together as a family.

But he couldn’t.

The memory fades. James waves it goodbye as he waves his son hello.

Harry sniffles, eyes becoming dangerously wetter.

“God, look at his face.”

Lily’s wavering voice is a welcome distraction, but not by much. He holds his breath and glances at her, seeing her wave at Harry, too. Her eyes are glassy again, her chin and lower lip trembling as he leads her to sit on the swing. He sits beside her, never looking away, breathing easier again as her eyes take on a more solid shine and her chin and lips steady. Her breathing evens.

James feels safe looking away and turning his attention back to Harry. He’s still plastered against the glass, pressing himself so hard he can stumble through it if he really wants. With magic manifesting in weird and wonderful ways during childhood, the thought makes him worry. Just their luck if their son exposes himself on his first day. The corner of James’ lip quirks up, and he chuckles as Harry’s bottom lip juts out in a pout. He waves again.

“All right?” he says, holding onto the chains.

Lily sighs deeply. “I will be.”

“Okay.”

“Hey.”

Their gazes meet. She reaches out, curling her hand around his.

James smiles, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I will be too.”

Silence falls, occasionally broken by the creak and grind of metal. They swing idly, hands clasped tightly, legs gently pushing them to and fro. James’ thumb caresses the back of Lily’s hand in comforting strokes. His attention returns to Harry, and never leaves. The teacher successfully pulls him away, but even as he obeys and sits with the class, he continues looking at them.

James makes sure to wave each time, not missing the anxious look on his son’s face—because it’s his. Harry looking exactly like James is like a conduit to his son’s emotions—a mirror and a trip to the past at the same time. Because he recognises it; he’s seen it before on himself. It’s as helpful as it is heartbreaking, especially during times like these when he would rather Harry wear a happier face.

“We spoil him too much.”

James turns to Lily, sees her stop mid-wave.

“He spoils us too,” he squeezes her hand. “Look at us.”

Lily chuckles and smiles defeatedly at him. The amused sparkle in her eyes is a relief. She squeezes back, smile fading as she looks to the classroom again. James’ hazel eyes trace the line of her profile. The redness has begun to fade, leaving behind her natural colouring—a gentle sort of rose-pink, gradating into her skin. A gentle breeze blows by, carrying threads of her hair into the air, glinting fire into the morning light.

“He hasn’t left our side since he was born,” she muses, voice low.

He nods slowly. “We’ve left him alone plenty.”

“No—I mean, yeah, with family and friends…” she trails off into contemplative silence before breaking it with a sharp sigh. She meets his eyes. The amusement has vanished, replaced by a much more concerned glint. “But we’re leaving him with strangers. That’s different—we barely know these people.”

“True.” Not helpful, something Lily doesn’t want to hear.

But he can’t lie to her—he doesn’t want to.

“They don’t know him like we do.”

“They will… eventually.”

Her brows draw together. “What if they get it wrong?”

“He will tell them.” James pauses. Sighs. “We will. They’ll learn.”

“And if he gets hurt?”

There’s an insistent note in her voice. Suddenly, anything he says will bear a lot of weight. It’s not that he’s been careless, but he senses the challenge, the bait appealing to his arrogance, his need to have an answer for everything—to be right in everything. It reminds him of when they were younger, back when they were rivals, and everything was a source of annoyance and challenge—well, for Lily, anyway. Half of the time, James just did things to get a rise out of her because he found her cute.

“Then he gets hurt—Lily,” he adds hurriedly at his wife’s incredulous, affronted look. He squeezes her hands to get her to stop and listen. Her hackles calm, and she watches him with narrowed eyes. “Lily, love, we got hurt. Our parents were in this position once—they still are. You know they wished for the same things; still, none of us got away unscathed.

Lily huffs a sigh, but she blinks in acknowledgement—and displeasure.

“I know, love, I’m sorry… but this is how it will be from now on.”

Lily still looks unhappy, but that’s not what James is trying to do anyway.

“We will be here for him—all of us. Always,” he continues, taking the challenge with certainty he doesn’t feel right now but knows will be as inevitable as today, as any other days like this in the future. “He will be okay.”

“... But it won’t be that easy.”

“No…”

He rises from the swing and kneels in front of her. Lily’s hands rest in a tight ball on her lap, and he covers them with his own, holding them firmly. He looks up, gazing into her eyes. They’re as vivid as the greenery surrounding them but deeper, revealing an endless depth only reserved for Harry and their family. She meets his gaze, searching desperately, no longer challenging him to be right but hoping he is.

He squeezes her hand, asking for that trust, asking for a chance, as he always does, because when has he ever been wrong before?

“This is how it’s always been,” he murmurs, nodding. “It’s life.”

Lily hesitates and nods in return, looking down at their hands. “I know.”

“It’s… terrifying. Horrifying. We—” he hesitates, swallowing hard, “—we know that better than most.”

Lily audibly swallows hard. James knows that in that instant, the same memories flicker in her mind—barely adults waging a war that wasn’t theirs yet dumped unceremoniously on their doorstep. Children had to make choices that weren’t their own. Shattered innocence still hoping for a brighter future. Lily’s back carried the weight of survival, while James carried the weight of protection. Determination did not push them to stay alive every day—it was this. Exactly this. That hope was like a hearth in their hearts, keeping the fire ablaze and angry.

Now Harry carries that hope, that fire.

He’s even more precious now, making them feel even more wretched about letting go.

“But,” he continues, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles to bring her back to him. She looks into his eyes again, darker and more haunted. Seeing him brings back their usual colour—the forest under a cloudless day. He smiles, brilliant and handsome. “It’s beautiful too. Kind. Lovely. Like you.”

Lily’s shoulders sag, and her eyes soften. The corners of her lips tug up in a warm, gentle smile before they set in a more permanent, wry slant. She rolls her eyes. He can tell she’s trying not to be swept away by his compliment. He grins, smug and pleased with himself. He kisses the backs of her hands, her soft chuckle filling him with warmth.

“Look, I wish that’s all he’ll ever know.” James leans away and looks back up at Lily. This time, she’s the one nodding. “I want him happy all the time. God, I want nothing more, and I know we’ll do our best to make it so… but life. He’ll learn that, just like we did.”

“... I know.” Lily bites her lip and looks away, avoiding his piercing look as she finally admits: “I just… I’m so scared it won’t work out for him. That something will go horribly wrong.”

“I know, love. It’s paralysing, I get it. But that won’t happen, yeah? Life will work out fine for Harry—again if it doesn’t, we’re here.” Another squeeze, as if to prove the truth of his words—ensure that they are alive, and so is Harry. Though apart now, he’s only a short distance away—they’re never truly gone from each other. “We will be here. For him. To help. To guide. Comfort. Love—”

“And that’s enough.”

James pauses before sighing in relief, beaming at Lily’s addition. “Yes.”

Lily meets his eyes, smiling back. “Better than if we weren’t here.”

“That’s right.”

“At least it’s not the war anymore.”

“Precisely.”

With a sigh, he kisses her hands again. He takes on a more comfortable position, crossing his legs but still staying by his wife’s feet. He senses the change in her mood, the return of her usual light. When it was time to let go of Harry, she had been so inconsolable that he worried about whether she’d be okay. But he should’ve known he never had to worry; Lily’s resilience is unmatched, a fact he had gotten to know intimately in school and during the war. But when the weight of everything became too much, he made sure to be there—to hold her up. To keep the light shining in her eyes, he’ll carry the weight of the world for her.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles wider at her chuckle.

Silence again. James glances towards the classroom, half of him expecting Harry plastered against the glass again—but no. He remains with his class. James catches his eyes, though. Anxiety flashes across Harry’s face for a second. James waves, smile softening in relief when Harry waves back this time, albeit reluctantly.

It’s only now, separated by glass, that James realises just how much his son has grown up—how much time has passed. He remembers when Lily gave birth, how that was the singularly most terrifying thing he’s ever experienced. Because of that, his family has been his life for years. He swallows hard, a lump forming in his throat as a strange, overwhelming sense of loss washes over him.

For a time, it seemed that Harry would remain a baby forever—that the days of him being so small, so chubby, so theirs would go on for eternity. But he turned one. He grew out of so many clothes, each outgrown outfit marking a moment of change—quicker than they could even keep up with buying replacements. Parts of him took on more shape; the greens of his eyes started looking familiar, reminding James of a forest under a cloudless day. Every day, James sees the mirror of him growing before his eyes until one unexpected moment, he realises that his own expressions are no longer his, but Harry’s.

But… still. Still a baby. Still theirs. They were all he knew, all he ever called upon—kept them at night, gave them his firsts and received theirs. The world belonged to them, their lives inextricably theirs. But he turned two. He shot up and lost all the chubbiness. More clothes to discard, but now containing versions of him, changing old parts for new ones. Within the ever-deepening green of his eyes, awareness and consciousness lit up like something inside him flicked it on. Harry manifesting as himself. It was like meeting him for the first time all over again.

It never stopped. Another year. Another version—more Harry than their son. He saw more of the world and saw less of theirs. He made friends, liked things, didn’t like things, loved some, and hated others. Spilling from his lips were words and sounds that sounded like them but painted with his colours. In his unique way, he let them know who he was—Harry as himself but still so painfully theirs in some sparkling moments. In their cottage, they lived a dual life: raising a child who came from them, while also raising the person he was meant to become.

And it was wonderful.

But also alarming.

Death never fazed James, especially not during the war. But little does he know it has different faces—that loss is not just about losing life but also about living it. Within the landscape of grief are winding paths and forked roads. No, James has never feared losing his life—but losing Harry… losing what was once was to make way for what will be, for what is supposed to be, well…

That fucking terrifies him.

“It just feels so fast.”

Lily’s soft voice grounds him. He realises his heart is racing, trying to run from a reality they can’t escape. James swallows hard and turns from the classroom to his wife. He caresses her hands, trying to assure her and himself.

“I know.” His voice cracks.

Lily smiles at him tightly. “The past few weeks, my mind’s been on a loop about how one day… he’ll be gone.”

“Lily.” He squeezes her hands again. “He’ll come back to us—”

“No, I know—”

“By law, he has to.”

Lily snorts. Within the next few seconds, her expression shifts and twitches in an obvious effort not to laugh. But she snorts again, and something breaks. Full-bodied laughter bubbles from her lips—beautiful, like her, and so lovely. It’s lighter than the breeze blowing by, dancing with her fiery hair; within the trilling notes are hints of Harry’s laughter. James can’t help joining in—his is a little lower, slightly sombre, but still full of love and amusement.

He tapers off first, watching her ride the wave of her joy. The darker red of her lashes glints copper in the sunlight as little gems of unshed tears cling on, making them sparkle. James isn’t sure if they’re from laughter or more grief, but he doesn’t push anything about it. His wife is laughing, and for now, that’s enough.

“Well… one day he won’t.” Though she continues to smile, she gives him a pointed look.

“Then we go to him just like our parents do now.”

“James.”

He shrugs—always, always, he has an answer ready for her. It doesn’t matter what it is as long as he doesn’t leave her hanging. Lily knows that—it’s evident from how her smile becomes indulgent and longsuffering, but the edges remain soft and loving. Her shoulders sag defeatedly in such an obvious way it’s like she’s been fighting a battle all this time. James laughs when she makes a show of sighing.

“All right, you persistent prat,” she concedes. “You win—as always.”

“It’s going to be okay, Lily, I promise,” James grins. “It’s change.”

“I know.”

Lily leans in. James quickly rises on his knees to meet her halfway, happily receiving the kiss she presses on his lips. They linger, reluctant to break the bubble of comfort and assurance around them—James more than Lily. He cups her cheek with one hand, holding her in place as he deepens the kiss a little—mindful that they’re in a preschool and not in the privacy of their home. He breaks it eventually, but Lily doesn’t move away.

“Change is fine, I suppose,” she mumbles against his lips. “As long as it’s with you.”

He chuckles, pressing another kiss. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

“No, suppose not.”

Another chuckle. One last kiss. And James on his feet. As he does so, his gaze turns to the classroom—and a smile lights up.

“Look,” he breathes.

He doesn’t check to make sure she’s looking—it’s obvious from her happy gasp. The class seems to be doing an activity now. Harry sits at a table next to another child. They’re talking and shyly sharing crayons as they scribble. James watches, pride filling him to the brim, elation fluttering like butterflies in his body as he sees the delicate confidence in how Harry holds himself, the concentration on his face, and the tentative way he moves around his new friend.

This must be what his parents felt when he was going off on his own. And here he is now. Hope whispers, assuring him Harry will be okay. Eventually, that hope morphs into a quiet wish that Harry would glance back for reassurance, just one more time. But he doesn’t. Along the flutter of happiness within James is now the sting of melancholy and disappointment.

Yet, his smile widens, and he shakes his head at himself. He looks at Lily just as she looks at him. It doesn’t surprise him that the same disappointed but happy smile graces her beautiful face. Raising his brows inquisitively, he inclines his head towards the exit. She nods. He offers his hand, and she takes it. With one last look at Harry, James and Lily start making their way out.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“—Fine,” Lily says at last.

Sirius blinks and glances at her. She doesn’t offer any more, too casually keeping her attention to the cupcakes. She hands the freshly frosted cupcake to James, who takes it, reaching for the toppings and focusing on decoration as if it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. Eventually, Lily looks up to acknowledge Sirius’s scrutinising stare.

“It was fine,” she insists with a tight smile.

Sirius grins slowly. “You cried, didn’t you?”

Lily immediately looks indignant and opens her mouth to retort—

James sighs affectionately. “As much as Harry did—”

“Oi!” Lily picks up the spatula from one of the bowls and smears frosting on his cheek. “So did you!”

“Whoa—hey!”

He takes Lily’s spatula and covers her left cheek with one firm swipe. And then, it’s like a free-for-all. Noise erupts, followed by chaos—frosting flying, laughter and yelps filling the kitchen. It’s like being back in that preschool. Mary walks in, sees the chaos, and tries to slip out unnoticed. It doesn’t escape their notice. Sirius, the closest to her, drags her into the fray. Lily and James scoop frosting from the bowls as Mary struggles, but with Sirius holding her firmly, resistance is pointless.

“No, no, no—!”

She stops protesting the moment the frosting lands. With a sigh, she sags against Sirius, hands raised in surrender. Her eyes squeeze shut as she takes the impromptu make-over from her friends: Lily drawing a heart on her cheek, James adding more on her forehead, and Sirius finishing off with his signature amorphous blob on her nose.

“Great,” Mary deadpans, nodding with a conceding expression. She opens her eyes and sees the three looking very pleased with themselves. “Perfect. Thank you, very lovely.”

Sirius winks. “We believe in equal frosting opportunities, Macdonald.”

At that, they all laugh, including Mary, but she sobers up quickly with a hastily put-together disapproving look.

“Well, I’m here to frost some cupcakes.”

“Oh, shit, right,” Lily gasps.

Covered in frosting, they return to the island, which remains clean. Lily and James go back to what they were doing while Sirius picks up a cupcake from the plate and hands it to Mary after she picks up a bag of frosting. With a murmured word of thanks, she takes the cupcake and starts to frost it—perfectly. Sirius’ eyes can’t help twitching at that.

“Why are we doing this again?” Mary mumbles.

“Gideon’s coming around with his nephews tomorrow,” James answers.

“Oh, nice!”

#jilytober2024 #jilytoberfest2024 #jily #james potter #lily evans #harry potter #jple #james potter x lily evans #james x lily #marauders era #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #mus writes #mus writes fanfic

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5sospenguinqueen · 5 months ago

Text

Growing Pains | Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: When fans begin commenting about your future plans, Oscar begins to worry that your long-term relationship is preventing you from truly experiencing life.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Self-sacrificing Oscar haha. Childhood sweethearts

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2023 season

Less baby-fever, more baby panic haha. I'm so sorry if these aren't as baby-centered as the others. I've been trying to make them a little different.

Main Masterlist

next.

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YourUserName just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName i love weekends off with you <3

978 comments

oscarpiastri you didn’t post the one of me with my face in the water? that is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me

→ YourUserName only because your ass was in the air and i’m the only one allowed to see that

→ oscarpiastri oh

→ landonorris @ oscarpiastri well, now you’ve told the internet that it exists, we need to see it

→ User1 lando is one of us

danielricciardo i’m still your favourite australian though, right?

→ YourUserName no. i’m my own favourite australian

→ oscarpiastri you tell ‘em, sweetheart

→ User2 SWEETHEART!!!

User3 i know they’re only young but when can we expect a wedding

→ User4 they’ve been together for long enough. they’re practically already married at this point

→ User5 their wedding would be so cute. can you imagine all the f1 appearances we would get?

→ User6 mark webber in a tux 🤤

mclaren our favourite young couple

→ landonorris hey!

→ mclaren you and daniel don’t count anymore

→ danielricciardo hey!

User7 papaya wedding when?

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and others

oscarpiastri my favourite girl 💕

2,664 comments

YourUserName don’t let suzie hear you say that. she’ll be distraught

→ oscarpaistri maybe you should drive her more and she’ll love me less

→ YourUserName whoa, i thought this was an appreciation post for me, why are you throwing shade

→ landonorris why would she drive her own car when she has you to do it for her?

→ YourUserName exactly!

→ User9 wait, suzie is a car? i was hoping they had a pet or something we didn’t know about

User10 the disrespect to have lando’s # on her back but be stood in front of oscar’s garage

logansargeant yet i suggest she support driver #2 and i had holes poked in all my juice boxes

→ oscarpiastri you can never prove that was me

→ YourUserName i have video footage

landonorris everyone can relax, she’s wearing the shirt because she lost a bet. oscar was a good sport about it

→ YourUserName i got soooo many dirty looks that day. the fans did not like me

→ oscarpiastri i still think you’re beautiful. not as beautiful with MY number splashed only our back but

→ YourUserName you know 81 is my favourite number

→ YourUserName (and sometimes 16)

→ charles_leclerc forza ferrari

User11 the fact that they fell in love during the most awkward years of a person’s life and have continued to love each other when they got hot

→ User12 they saw the potential in each other

User13 the fact that he’s loved you since you were 14 and continues to love you more each day 🥹

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YourUserName just posted

liked by racerbia, alex_albon and others

YourUserName i’m so proud of you, osc. another podium in a long-line of many. thank you for sharing your joy and success with me. 🧡🧡

when i befriended the nerdy 12 year old who wouldn’t stop talking about engines, i never imagined that you would be dragging me around the world. don’t get me wrong, i always believed you would make it this far. i just thought i would’ve managed to break free from you before then 😂 however, i’m so glad i didn’t because you are my favouritest guy in the whole world, and seeing you on that podium made me cry more than watching the supernatural series finale

1,220 comments

YourUserName oh, and well done to lando on P3, i guess

→ landonorris you guess???

User1 time for another round of: is he looking at lando or y/n in the 3rd pic?

→ landonorris it was y/n this time :(

→ YourUserName you get loads of pics of him looking at you like this, let me have my moment

oscarpiastri thank you for coming with me around the world and supporting me no matter what. you’ve been one of my biggest supporters these past 8 years and i don’t think i could’ve done it without you by my side. i love you so much, even if i come second to dean winchester 🧡🤍

→ User2 P2 in your relationship as well

→ oscarpiastri only because y/n is p1

→ YourUserName stop making me love you more and more each day. i might explodeeeee

User3 my parents. i need them to adopt me because they’re just so cute

User4 drenched in champagne is a good look for piastri

thisisnotyn the pirelli cap needs to stay on during sex

→ User5 is this y/n’s secret account

landonorris this is so cute. excuse me whilst i puke

maxverstappen1 a delight to share the podium with your boyfriend for the 2nd time

→ User6 y/n’s boyfriend and y/n’s boyfriend’s boyfriend on the podium with max 2x in a row

→ YourUserName omg max verstappen commented on my post! you’re like my favourite driver ever

→ oscarpiastri you agreed not to mention this in public

→ charles_leclerc @ YourUserName i thought it was me

→ landonorris i thought it was me

→ fernandoalo_official jokes on all of you, she told me it was me

→ aussiegrit you're all wrong. it's me

User7 if you guys are after a third, i’m free?

→ User8 how could you say this to the cutest couple on the grid

→ User9!because y/n has said worse and is more unhinged than we think but oscar’s pr manager has gotten to her recently

User10 i’m gonna have to agree with @ OscarPastryyy just because they’ve been together forever doesn’t change the fact that they’re still young

User11 yeah they’ve been together for a while but that doesn’t mean that having children is their only option. they’re still technically children themselves

NicolePiastri he doesn’t know how to do his own washing. trust me, he’s not ready for children. Y/N on the other hand, has been keeping that boy alive since they were 12

→ User12 nobody humbles an f1 racer more than mama piastri

User13 @ CHICKEN!! is so real for that. max is only 4 years old than them and yet everyone talks about him, kelly and P being a family and when are him and kelly getting married, but y/n and oscar have been together for longer than kelly has been a mother so…

User14 i think people only focus on their age and forget about their experience. i went to school with them and they still act just as infatuated with each other now as they did when they were 14.

→ User15 but they’ve also only been with each other. perhaps they should try dating other people before committing to the rest of their lives

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YourUserName just posted

liked by aussiegrit, logansargeant and others

YourUserName quando a Roma 🇮🇹❤️ tagged: YourBFF, YourBFF2

1,009 comments

YourBFF i told you that pic of you by the fountain would look amazing

→ YourBFF2 i think if we pumped another cocktail in her, she’d have gone swimming in it

→ YourUserName stop making me sound like a sloppy drunk

→ YourBFF you were sloppy anyway

→ YourUserName bitch

→ YourBFF2 it’s part of being in your 20s. welcome!

→ YourUserName not funny.

User1 guys, oscar hasn’t commented. he always comments on posts with her in, even if they’re posted by friends/family

mclaren orange drinks to support your favourite f1 team this weekend?

→ YourUserName you know it. papaya pride!

→ YourBFF2 she actually said that to herself when she took the pic. you’ve indoctrinated her

lilymhe cute post but you’re coming to sichuan with me next

→ YourUserName just name a date and time, and i’m yours

→ alex_albon what is it with you and stealing f1 drivers’ partners

→ YourUserName i think that just means i have the most rizz

User2 you mean to tell me that she’s in rome the weekend that oscar is all the way in america? so, she’s not going to be at the race 🤔

→ User3 she doesn’t have to go to every one

→ User4 i know but she’s said loads of times that she tries to make all of them

User5 all of you calling y/n a bad girlfriend but are we forgetting that they’ve already been together for 8 years, and have known each for 10. they’re at the point where they don’t have to be glued to the hip all the time

→ User6 literally. like they’ve been together longer than some of the married couples on the grid

→ User7 yeah but it’s just unlike them. how do they go from being infatuated with each other to distancing within 2 weeks without there being some cause? it wasn’t a natural progression

logansargeant i can’t believe you didn’t bring me back a gift.. you said you would

→ YourUserName i also said i’d wear a williams t-shirt one race but we all know that ain’t happening

→ User8 is this logan shooting his shot?

alexandrasaintmleux i knew that would dress would look good on you. you look radiant

→ YourUserName my favourite shopping partner

→ charles_leclerc my girl has good taste

→ YourUserName not if she’s dating you

→ charles_leclerc you have hurted my feelings

User9 y/n hasn’t been able to terrorise oscar on social media and it’s showing because sis has been dragging the grid in their comments haha

→ User10 she’s so funny. i bet they’re fearful anytime her name pops up in their notifs

User11 i love how we all sound insane to other people but us oscy/n stans know we’re right because they’ve been a constant media presence since his f2 days

User13 i hate to say it but what if we’re the reason they broke up? we couldn't stop talking about them getting married and having kids lately, and what if it freaked them out…

User14 i can’t imagine oscar piastri without y/n y/l/n. i only really follow f1, not f2 but he’s always been oscar and y/n since he started. it would be akin to not seeing him in mclaren

mclaren just posted

liked by YourUserName, ln4 and others

mclaren get you a teammate who looks at you the way these two look at each other #unitedstatesgp

1,559 comments

oscarpiastri 🧡

racerbia team papaya! 🧡

User1 poor oscar, such a shame he had to retire after minimal contact

User2 not to be that person but it was defo because y/n wasn’t there. she’s his good luck charm

YourUserName well done lando!

User3 anyone else getting more and more confused by oscar and y/n’s relationship purely because of their media presence

→ User3 for info, she posts that she’s in rome the weekend he is in america, proving that she isn't attending the race. oscar likes the post but doesn’t comment despite y/n looking beautiful in that post (1/4)

→ User3 then she’s not spotted in the paddock, further proving that she’s defo not at the race. plus, whenever oscar was asked about her during interviews, lando quickly changed the topic for him (2/4)

→ User3 then oscar crashes and y/n doesn’t post ANYTHING about the race but when he dnf’d in bahrain and belgium, she put numerous posts on her story about how proud of him she was (3/4)

→ User3 and now she congratulates lando on the mclaren post but doesn’t even mention her long-term boyfriend?? (4/4)

→ User4 you have too much time on your hands and are reading too much into things. i’m sure she’s facetimed him to see how he’s doing and told him she’s proud of him

User5 okay but if a man looked at me the way oscar and lando look at each other, i would marry him on the spot

danielricciardo @ oscarpiastri first your girlfriend tries stealing my seat, and now you’re stealing my lando. you two are giving aussie's a bad name

→ landonorris you’re the only for me, boo

→ danielricciardo don’t lie. the pictures show everything

User6 i miss when we couldn't tell if he was looking at lando or y/n like that. now we know it’s lando because y/n isn’t in the paddock

As always, requests are welcome!

Baby Fever Angst Masterlist

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