#I just want to hug Jamie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

venusmcflytr4p · 18 days ago

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Make it Up

James Potter x Lupin!Reader

Synopsis: Modern AU. When James Potter and his secret girlfriend, who happens to be Remus’s younger sister, go up to his room during a house party, Remus gets overprotective.

Part 2

WC: 2.6k

Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Alcohol consumption, dub-con? (they both want to, I've only labelled this due to alcohol, lmk if there's a better warning to use), dry humping, clit play, getting walked in on, protective older brother Remus (reader is 20 marauders are 22), angry Remus. Let me know if I missed any!

Authors note: I wrote this in one night after a long night and in a sleep deprived haze, I apologize if the pacing is weird. Also, lmk if you want part 2?

“Hi, lovey,” James says easily as you step into the boys’ house.

“Jamie!” You hissed. “Be careful! Where’s Rem?” You asked as you whip your head around, searching for your brother’s knowing eyes.

“Relax, love. Moony’s in the kitchen helping Pads with the jelly shots,” James assured you. The house was empty save for the boys; you showed up early to help your brother and his best mates prepare for the party. Peeking around the corner of the hallway, you couldn’t see Remus anywhere, but you could hear Sirius’s barking laughter echo from the kitchen.

“Right then,” you look up at James, a smile spreading across your face as you look past his glasses into his adoring eyes. “Hi, Jamie,” you greet properly. You pull his face to yours and press a brief kiss to his lips. Too brief for James as he chases you when you pull away. Smiling, you rub your thumb along James’s jaw before planting another quick kiss on his lips.

Hearing footsteps approach, you tear your hands away from his body, immediately missing the warmth of his skin on your fingers.

“Hey! Y/N’s here!” Peter calls across the house, meeting you halfway across the hall for a hug.

“Hi, Pete,” you greet warmly. The round-faced boy looks over James’s lingering figure behind you.

“Offer her a drink yet?” He asks, clearly unaware of the moment he was interrupting.

“No, not yet,” James says with a casual exhale. “Looks like Moony’s got it covered,” James nods to Remus, approaching, followed by Sirius with your go-to drink.

“Hey, Bubs,” he says as he opens his arms. You throw your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. You had grown up close with Remus. Your whole lives, you were each other’s best friends. He’d always been there for you, looked out for you, protected you the way a big brother should. You loved your brother more than anything. And you loved his mates, who meant so much to him. You were particularly taken to a messy-haired boy.

“How are you doing, Rem?” You ask, still holding him tight.

“I’m doing great, Bubs,” He assures you. You release him and turn to Sirius.

“For the lady,” Sirius hands you the glass. You gladly accept and hug Sirius, careful not to spill your drink.

“Shall we prepare the party?” You ask the group that was now huddling around you in the hallway. You turn to look at James, still standing by the door with a soft, warm smile.

Two hours in, and you were feeling good. The type of good that makes you want to run up to your boyfriend and throw your arms around him to kiss him silly. Of course, you couldn’t. Not with Remus just a few meters away. No, you had to get James away from Remus and find some privacy.

“Hey,” James says, startling you. You turn to see him, drink in hand, T-shirt taut around his broad shoulders and big arms. You’re practically salivating at the sight of him.

“Hi,” you reply, eyes drunkenly hooded, shamelessly taking in his toned figure. He chuckles as your eyes wander over him, before leaning close to your ear.

“If you keep looking at me like that, Remus is going to find out about us a lot sooner than you wanted,” he warns, but there’s no bite to it. It’s almost taunting.

“Please don’t talk about my brother when I’m thinking of what I want to do to you,” you plead.

“To me?” James raises an eyebrow.

“Mmhmm,” you hum in response, eyes still drinking him in. He’s so gorgeous. Those perfectly warm hazel eyes that always seemed trained on you in a room full of people.

“And what, pray tell, would you do to me?” He challenges, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

“Well, first, I’d take your shirt off your ridiculously buff arms,” you explain to James in a hushed tone. You grab onto his arm for balance as you rise up on your feet to whisper just in his ear. “And then-”

“What are you two conspiring about?” Sirius interrupts before you can convince James to sweep you away to his room.

“Your birthday gift, so shove off, Pads,” James bites out, perhaps a bit harsher than intended. Sirius could only raise his hands in mock surrender as he walks over to Marlene and Dorcas. “So, what were you saying, love?” James turns back to you, a glint in his eye that could only mean he wants you just as badly as you want him.

Your lips quirk into a smirk as you raise your lips to his ear again. You’re about to tell him when you see Remus across the room eyeing you two. You retract immediately, much to James’s disappointment.

You quickly put any thoughts of having James tonight aside. Not in the same house as your brother. You couldn't possibly sneak that past him. You’d been lucky these past few months that he hadn’t already found out. Remus walks toward the patio door, a pack of cigs in hand. You decide that maybe that's just what you need to clear your mind, a good old-fashioned drunken cigarette.

“Jamie, I’ll be back, I’m going for a smoke.”

“Lovie, come on,” James whines as you pull away. “I wanna know.”

“I’ll make it up to you another time, Jamie,” you promise, sending a wink his way. He pouts as you walk away, and you feel his eyes on you even after you’ve stepped outside to join Remus. The smell of smoke fills your lungs as you breathe in the cool summer-evening air.

“Care to share?” It’s more of a demand than a question with you, but that’s how it’s always been. He takes a long drag before passing the cig off to you. Exhaling the smoke, he looks at you with his amber, all-knowing eyes.

“What were you and Prongs talking about?” He finally asks. You take your own long drag, holding it in your lungs a moment.

“Sirius’s birthday,” you say, smoke seeping out of your mouth with each lying word. “I know it’s not for another few months, but you know me, I like to be prepared.” He looks into you again, like he’s searching for something.

He hums in response. You take another drag and hand the cig back to Remus. You look back towards the party, which doesn’t seem to be quieting down. James’s tall, broad figure catches your eye, and you can’t help but watch as he and Sirius lift the couch that Peter had crashed on and carry it to where you and Remus stood. His biceps look amazing in his tight white T-shirt, and all you can think about is sinking your teeth into his muscle as he fucks you raw.

Remus walks towards the door wordlessly, as if this were a regular occurrence, as the other two carry Peter’s sleeping form outside. “Never could hold his liquor,” Sirius barks. Peter shifts slightly in his sleep without waking. The boys gently set down the couch, careful not to disturb Peter too much.

“Figured it wouldn’t be a proper Marauders party without a good prank,” James says while nudging Remus in the side. He turns back toward you, beaming, before heading back inside. Remus turns to you and says something, probably to do with the new just-lit cigarette he was holding out to you, but you didn’t hear him. All you could hear was the memories of James’s soft moans and grunts that you had heard so many times before, and longed so desperately to hear right now.

“I’ve got to go to the loo, Rem,” is all you say before you hurry back inside the house. You search around the party and look for any signs of James. You’re in a drunken, lust-fueled daze as you search each room for him. Your heart hammers in your chest when you finally lock eyes with him as he's standing at the front door. You see Lily’s fiery red hair as she waves to you while stepping out the door. As soon as the door is closed, and you hear no one close by, you’re on him.

“Oi, love, what’s this all about?” He asks as you practically drag him up the stairs. “Not that I’m complaining, but where’s this coming from?”

“It’s another time, Jamie. Time for me to make it up to you,” you look back at him with a playful smirk, and all he can do is stare at you wide-eyed before his own smirk spreads across his face.

You barely make it through his door before you’re on him. In seconds, you’ve pulled his face to yours, mouths moving clumsily together, teeth clashing. His hands reach for your waist to pull you flush against him, and the heat in your stomach burns hotter. You feel how hard he is against you, and smile against his mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt and lifts it just enough to tease you. You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a delicious groan against your mouth.

“Need you so bad, love,” he’s just about begging. You toy with his belt buckle, undoing it slowly through your sloppy kisses. Your chest is on fire as you stand there, undoing each other slowly. Too slowly. As soon as it’s undone, you’re hands move to the tight hem of his shirt.

“Take it off,” you plead. He doesn't need to be told twice. He pulls at the neck of his T-shirt, and all you can do is stare as the fabric slides up his muscular core. His undone belt shows more of his V-line than you can handle without touching him. As his head pops out from his shirt, his hair more messy than usual, all he can do is stare at you.

“You’re so gorgeous, love,” is all he can mutter before his lips are back capturing yours, savouring you. His hands knead your ass, and his lips leave yours, taking purchse on your cheek. Then below your ear. Down the column of your throat, and when he reaches your shirt, he wastes no time pulling it off over your head and returning his mouth to where it belongs. He kisses down your chest and your stomach until he’s on his knees in front of you.

In one swift movement, he pulls your pants down, leaving you in your bra and panties. You pull him back up to meet your face, and you skim your lips over his. With a quick kiss, you separate enough to push him backwards onto the bed.

Desperate for friction, you crawl onto his lap and rock yourself against him. You keep rolling your hips over his, and with every movement, soft, desperate moans escape your lips. James’s hands guide your movements and coax you to rock faster.

He brings one of his hands to your throbbing core, feeling your arousal through your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet, love.” All you can do is moan as he rubs circles over your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, Jamie, need you,” you whimper. “Need you so bad.” You lean down to kiss him again. He brings his hands to your face to kiss you deeper, biting your lip gently, making you smile.

“FUCKING HELL!” You hear Sirius scream from the door. You jump and scramble off of James, grabbing the throw blanket at the end of James’s bed to cover up a bit.

“Padfoot, what's going on?” Remus asks as he appears behind Sirius. “Bloody hell,” he stops dead in his tracks. “Prongs. Mate. I’m going to fucking kill you,” he says in that ominously calm tone he uses when he’s truly mad.

“Rem, please,” you know how this is going to go. You love your brother, but you also know he has a temper.

“Let me just get this straight,” he says in an even scarier tone. “James Potter, one of my best mates, is shagging my little sister?” His voice is deadly calm.

“Remus, I swear it's not like that! This isn’t a one night thing!” James tries to explain.

“Don’t!” Remus warns. While they argue, and you’re wrapped in the throw, you grab your phone and text Lily asking if she could pick you up and drive you home, knowing she was a designated driver tonight. You try to drown out the shouting as you text her.

“What I understand, James, is that you’ve been taking advantage of my little sister for months?!” Remus yelled as you tuned back in.

“Okay, Rem, I love you so much, but you’re being ridiculous. James has not been taking advantage of me, and I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions,” you state calmly in contrast to his anger.

“You’re still my little sister!” He shouts.

“Alright,” you say. “Get out,” you tell him simply.

“Wha-”

“No, Remus, get out. James and I are going to get dressed, and then Lily is going to drive us back to my flat.” You’ve grown up with Remus; if anyone knows how to deal with his anger, it’s you. Give him time to cool off, and conversations generally go better.

“I’m not letting him go home with you!” He protests.

“I’m not sure that you and James being under the same roof is a good idea right now.”

“She might be right, Moony,” Sirius finally piped up.

“See? I’m right. Now go,” You physically push him out of James’s room, locking the door after it’s shut. “Bloody hell,” you sigh still facing the door. You check your phone to make sure Lily’s okay with driving and with Lily being Lily, and living five minutes away, she was already on her way. “Jamie,” you say as you turn. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize but he’s already shushing you with a kiss.

“Why are you sorry, lovie?” He asks so sincerely it hurts. “I’m the one that’s sorry. It’s my fault that Remus is mad. I’m the one he hates,” James says, believing every word that is coming out of his mouth.

“James,” you hold his face firmly. “Remus loves me and you too much to hate us. Give him some time, and he’ll cool down.” A glimmer of hope flashes in James’s eyes. “Plus, I meant what i said about you spending the night at my place,” you smirk just slightly.

He kisses you so slowly and tenderly that you melt in his hands. All of your tension melting away. A sudden buzz reminds you of the task at hand. Lily’s arrived. “We should get dressed,” you suggest, looking into his deep hazel eyes.

“Yeah, I s’pose we should,” he says, pulling you in for a final gentle kiss before you get dressed.

Leaving James’s room was just as awkward as you thought it would be. The party looked like it had just finished clearing out and Remus was sitting at the kitchen table with Sirius looming over him.

James goes to the door and waits for you as you approach your brother. He doesn’t get up, but he hugs you back when you embrace him and press a kiss to his head. “I’ll talk to you soon, Rem, okay?” He nods in response.

“Bye, Sirius,” you hug him, appreciating that he’s treating you like normal. “Say bye to Pete for me,” you add.

“Of course. See you later, Prongs,” he calls over your shoulder. James waves back with a tight lipped smile.

When you meet him at the door, he grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile up at him before heading out the door hand in hand.

dividers by: @enchanthings

#james potter #james potter x reader #x reader #harry potter #remus lupin #james fleamont potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders #pure mercury ✧.*

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yailtsv · 2 months ago

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Jealous Jealous Girl (smut version)

💌 Syn: a guy flirts with you at their game against st.john’s and they do not like that

»»— warnings: poly, smut, 18+

»»— notes: per request 😅 pls lmk how this is 🙏

»»— word count: 2.6k

»»— pair: pazzi x gf!reader

"Do you know where my mascara is?" You ask your roommate after you have already done everything else makeup wise

"Yeah, here" she says walking into your room and handing it to you "thank you" you say taking it from her

"Mhm, you almost ready? Jackson's gonna come over once you leave." She tells you, mentioning her boyfriend "Do I need to stay with Paige and Azzi tonight?"

"Um yeah if you don't mind" she says sheepishly with a red face making you giggle "alright let me talk to them and pack a bag" you respond back making her nod and walk out of your room

Hey, can I stay the night at

one of your guy's dorms?

D1 yapper 👅🗣️

Yeah, we were already gonna ask if you wanted to come over after the game. Jana and Allie are planning on going to Teds with a few of the girls, so we're gonna hang out at my dorm.

Is there something wrong though?

No. Jamie's gonna have her

boyfriend over and I would like

to get some sleep tonight sooo...

D1 yapper 👅🗣️

🤣🤣 What makes you think you're getting sleep with us?

Ummmm....😧😧

my princess👸🏽

Don't break her before we can even see her today Paige.

D1 yapper 👅🗣️

What did I do? 😐 why can't I flirt with our girl 😩

my princess 👸🏽

Maybe because everytime you flirt with her she becomes a red faced stuttering mess, and she still has to make it inside Carnesecca Arena, and walk past all of the fans that are probably gonna ask for pictures.

Umm should I just...leave

this conversation 😃

D1 yapper 👅🗣️

Nope. When will you get to New York?

Im just now leaving my dorm

so it'll be a little bit. Is there some place

you want to meet up?

my princess 👸🏽

Wait outside the locker room when you get here

Read at 3:30pm by you &, D1 yapper 👅🗣️

Putting your phone down you go and grab your shoes putting them on, before grabbing everything you would need to stay the night with your girlfriends and walked out the door and to your car - driving to Carnesecca Arena

While walking in to Carnesecca, Azzi was right and you did have to stop a few times to take pictures with fans but eventually you made your way to the locker room and waited outside like you were told.

After around 10 minutes of scrolling on your phone you heard two voices that you knew extremely well, walking towards the locker room door.

"Hi baby" Azzi says walking out of the locker room and immediately pulling you into a hug once she saw you

"Hi Az, Hi P" you say giving both of them a hug and a kiss "how's your day been?" Azzi asks twirling a strand of your hair around her finger while Paige still has her arms wrapped around your waist

"Good i ran some errands and did some homework. How was your guys days?" You ask as Paige bends her head down and starts kissing down your neck

"Fine we just went to the gym, had practice and relaxed until game time" Azzi says with both you and her completely ignoring Paige and her kissing

After a little bit of talking with them and or their teammates, it was time for you to go to your seat and for the girls to go warm up.

A little bit after the game started a guy sat next to you "is this seat taken?" He asked literally after he already sat down

"Um no?" You say skeptically making him smile at you and look like he's about to say something but you turn your head and look back at the court to see Paige staring at you with an expression that you can't place.

Once you and Paige made eye contact, she kept it until you looked away nervously from the intense contact, making her look over to Azzi and signal her to look at you - seeing exactly what Paige saw which was you talking to a guy that checked you out everytime you looked away- actually no, he didn't stop checking you out since he saw you in the gym doorway and decided that he was gonna sit next to you.

"You know two of the uconn players are staring at you right?" he asked while shoving popcorn into his mouth "yup, i see them" you say pulling out your phone and acting like your busy "Do you know them?" He says not getting the hint that you don't want to talk to him "Yeah" you say in a monotone voice

"How?" He asks but gets ignored as you pretended you didn't hear him, and then Azzi shot a three pointer making you and everyone stand up and cheer

Once you sat back down you stayed looking at the court following your team up and down the court with your eyes, Paige and Azzi have been out for the last 4 minutes taking a break - through those 4 minutes they were staring hard at you and the guy next to you

"So how do you know the team?" he asks again rubbing his finger on your thigh to get your attention. You move your thigh away from his fingers but don't turn your head to look at him - still watching the teams run back and forth "They're my friends" you mumble out to him, not really wanting to talk to him at all but also being weary on what you say to the man as you don't want him to cause a scene

"How'd you meet them? Can you get me their autograph babe? He asks putting his hand directly on your thigh not moving it when you try to push it off "We go to the same school and I'll try but I can't promise anything, they're gonna be really tired after the game" you say completely lying about the trying to get their autograph part - Luckily Sarah gets another three making the perfect conversation stopper

From the UConn bench it looks like your talking to the guy willingly, he is so very obviously flirting and checking you out, your also avoiding eye contact with Paige and Azzi, and they can see his arm is reached out resting on your thigh. What they can't see from the bench + you being in the middle of a section far from the UConn bench is the discomfort on your face, the way your moving your thigh and trying to get his hand off, the way your avoiding eye contact with him purposely and only focusing on the court.

"Take a picture it'll last longer" Jana teases Paige and Azzi from the bench making both of them take their eyes off of you and turn to Jana glaring at her

"What? You both are over here staring at her like she's prey and you're the predator. She loves both of you, stop being jealous." Jana tells them before looking back towards the court.

Paige and Azzi turn their heads to look at each other, communicating through their eyes before Geno tells them he's subbing them back into the game.

After the game and line up all the fans started making their way out except for you and now your shadow "hey, let's go get coffee or somethin. On me." He says putting his hand on the small of your back

"Actually that's not gonna happen." Paige says coming from behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist pulling you into her chest and away from the guy. Azzi standing right beside her.

"Oh wait Paige, Azzi yooo you guys played awesome tonight." He said holding his hand out to dap them up

Paige and Azzi both just looked at his hand then to his face making him realize they're not gonna shake his hand, and he slowly puts his hand down

"Oh um alright. Well if you don't mind I'm trying to ask this pretty girl out" he said trying to get Paige and Azzi to leave

"Actually we do mind" Azzi says sassily "she's our girlfriend, she's not available for you" Paige cuts in pulling you into her more

"Oh uhhh" the guy kinda has a shocked face not really knowing what to say or do "if YOU don't mind, we're gonna go and spend time with OUR girlfriend." Paige says with her voice dripping in jealousy

Her nor Azzi gave him a chance to say anything more and just turned around guiding you in front of them, leaving the guy just standing there with his jaw dropped.

—

Paige and Azzi haven't said anything since you guys left that guy on the stairs. They guided you to the locker room and to the car all in silence - the 2 1/2 hour car ride home was also silent.

Right when you guys reached the dormitory and made your way to Paige's, Paige pushed you into the dorm with her and Azzi following you into the room. Paige leans over Azzi to shut and lock the door before turning around and looking you in the eye "Go to my bedroom, strip, and wait on the bed" Paige demands making you look at both of them and then slowly walk to her bedroom, already knowing how the nights gonna go

“paige” you moan out as she flicks her tongue on your clit more

azzi laying beside you kissing and sucking all on your neck and chest, with both working together to make it harder to stay quiet like you were ordered to

paige eases up once she hears you moan, and smacks your thigh - obviously not hard enough to hurt you but enough to leave a small red spot, only making you moan again “didn’t we tell you to be quiet? you just can’t listen can you?” you only whimper in response making both of the two older girls share a look

“get on your hands and knees.” paige ordered out while azzi got off the bed walking somewhere else in the room

you do as your told and hear very low mumbling behind you, before paige sits in front of you with her legs wide open, signaling for you to eat her,

—and you do exactly that. leaning your head down to bring her clit into your mouth and sucking on it, you were so occupied with paige, that you forgot that azzi’s not on the bed until you feel her behind you

—with the strap

she doesn’t talk and instead just runs her fingers through your folds to see if your wet enough to take her, only to be pleased when she feels how soaked you are still

“already came 3 times and you’re still soaked?” azzi says teasingly, with you moaning into paige in response

“fuckk” paige moans out feeling the vibration of your moan on her. she puts her hands in your hair, pulling you closer to her “keep going baby…fuck-you’re doing so good for me”

you just hum in response that leads to a gasp, as azzi thrusts hard into you

“nu-uh baby, keep eating paige or i’ll stop.” azzi says seeing that your mouth is still open from your gasp

paige grabs your hair and pushes your head back into her cunt, and with azzi thrusting so deeply, all of your moans are going right to paige’s pussy, only pushing her closer to the edge

“fuuck there we go baby-“ paige breaths out, starting to grind her cunt onto your face, “i’m so close” she moans again

“fuckfuckfuck- i’m gonna-“ paige moans out again as she cums on your face. you still lapping her up but also still getting absolutely destroyed by azzi,

“see? you can be good” azzi said in a amused voice, watching paige move from in front of you, to lay beside you, leaving this next part to azzi.

once your not occupied by eating paige out anymore azzi speeds up a lot, her front banging into your backside. all you can do is grip the sheets and let out silent screams of pleasure

“did you like talking to that guy? hmm? you wanna be fucked by him instead?” azzi says pretty much just working herself up, making her thrust harder

you cry out in response, feeling like you can feel azzi in your stomach “cmon you were doing so good, don’t stop now, answer her.” paige says while pushing your hair that was stuck on your face because of the sweat and tears - behind your ear

“noo-“ you cry out, answering azzi but they both thought you were saying no to paige. azzi still thrusting into you, smacks your ass “don’t tell paige no babe, and answer the question.” azzi says groaning out, fully believing that she can feel you clenching around her - even though the straps not actually apart of her

you sob out before saying “no i don’t want him”

“are you sure? you looked pretty interested..” paige says teasingly, before moving her hand under you to circle your clit

you just moan into the sheets as a response, feeling so so fucked out.

“you close baby?—fuck i’m gonna cum,” azzi moans, you nod your head in response “cum for me baby, fuckk” azzi says with her hips slowing down some

you do as your told and cum all over her strap, her following behind, cumming on her vibrator.

—

you, paige, and azzi had just gotten out of the shower, —they obviously had to help you in and out as your legs are still shaking, but they had no problem with that

paige got out first drying and getting dressed, before helping you out

—and although you didn’t need it, she helps you dry off and put your clothes on too.

also helping put lotion on, and gently brushing your hair as you do your skincare, and azzi gets dressed.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you guys jealous. i tried to tell him i wasn’t interested.” you say after a few moments of silence

“it’s ok. we overreacted. we’re the ones that are sorry.” azzi says gently rubbing circles on your wrist with her thumb “how bout i braid your hair?” azzi says lifting an eyebrow at you

you nod in response letting her and paige walk you to the bedroom again, “sit, i’ll be back” azzi says pointing to the bed

you do as told, obviously, sitting down on the bed, paige then moves so she’s laying down in front of you, and puts her head in your lap and wraps her arms around your waist

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” paige says staring up at you, you giggle running your fingers through her wet hair “you’ve told me a few times,” you reply teasingly

“damn only a few times? i need to step up my game.” paige plays along, you just giggle in response “what are you two doing in here?” azzi asks walking back in only to see paige with a wide grin, watching you giggle at whatever she just said

“she said i only told her she’s beautiful a few times,” paige responded, azzi immediately catching on and deciding to play along “hmm then you should get on my level. i tell her she’s beautiful everyday.”

paige just gasps dramatically watching azzi move to sit behind you, and start separating your hair

you just laugh at the playful banter your two girlfriends are doing, knowing they’re doing it on purpose to make you laugh.

and while the interaction with the guy sucked and was weird, right now, life was amazing.

you had one girlfriend braiding your hair, and the other laying her head in your lap gently massaging your hips or rubbing the side of your thighs, all while watching your comfort show with your comfort people.

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @souplored @evry1luvzzae @bethsleftnip @paigeluvvr @dopeeaglequeen

and thank you to @bethsleftnip for helping me with this 🫶

#paige bueckers x reader #azzi fudd x reader #pazzi x reader #paige bueckers smut #azzi fudd smut #pazzi smut #yailtsv works—★

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mallowsweetmiri · 9 months ago

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Best friend!Remus with no boundaries leaves you alone with James

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

It was another sunny afternoon spent studying in Remus’ dorm. You sat on his bed reading your Herbology textbook as Remus worked at his desk, finishing his Potions assignment. James was sprawled in the sunshine working on his Charms homework next to the open window.

“Y/N, can you pass me my vile of asphodel,” Remus said over his book, pointing to his potions trunk next to the bed. You hummed and leaned over the side of the bed, trifling through the case of potions ingredients.

“Erm, I think you’re out,” you replied, holding up the empty vile next to your face. Remus frowned and came over to the bed. He took a seat on the edge and took the vile from you. You crawled closer to him, resting your head in his lap as he flicked the vile. He sighed and ran his hand down your arm.

“I’m gonna have to go to the storage and get some ingredients,” Remus drawled, stroking your shoulder and neck with his long fingers. You hummed and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your bestfriend’s hands on your body.

“While you’re at it, can you get some snacks from the kitchen? I can’t focus when I’m hungry,” you looked up at him through your lashes with a pout. He only chuckled at you and squeezed your cheek.

“Of course,” he grinned, scooting out from under you. You sighed as you rolled back on your stomach to read. Remus tsked and pulled your cotton shorts over your bum.

“You need to get a new pair of shorts, Y/N. I think you’ve outgrown those,” Remus said as he walked towards the door. You heard James chuckle out a breath from his bed. You stuck your tongue out at Remus as you sat up to pull your shorts down. Remus chuckled and left the dorm, shutting the door behind him. You huffed and fell back onto the bed. James laughed and shut his book.

"Remus' sure has a lot of opinions on your outfits," James teased, sitting up to stretch. You guys had been studying for a while.

"You know how he is. I don't see why my shorts being short is an issue though," you pouted, standing up and stretching over arms your head.

"Well, I think they look lovely, Y/N." James smiled at you. He was just the sweetest.

"Awww, thanks Jamie. You're always so kind," you gushed and sprang towards him for a hug. Even sitting on his bed he was nearly your height, but he had always seemed like a big teddy bear to you. James chuckled and he wrapped his arms around you.

"I'm just telling the truth. Just because Remus is your bestfriend doesn't mean his opinions are right," James joked. Your smile grew as you pulled back.

"You're so right, Jamie. Maybe I should start to listen to you more," you beamed, liking the idea of spending more time with James. He was right. You were always hanging around Remus so much, you had neglected what a good friend James was.

"I like the sound of that," James half grinned, his hands falling down to your waist. You blushed and smiled back. You'd never really been physically close with any of the other boys before, your friendship just wasn't like that. But why couldn't it be? James was nice to hug anyway.

"Can we take a break from studying?" You asked, playing with James' soft curls on the back of his neck. James hands stroked your hips as you stood between his legs.

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?" James laughed, still smiling at you. Gods, his eyes were so pretty. You couldn't focus on anything but his hands on your hips and his lips curved into that pretty smile.

"Well," you breathed, "What do you want to do?" You leaned in closer to him. James swallowed and let out another chuckle. You were starting to realize why you weren't so touchy with other friends.

"I can think of one thing," James charmed, pulling you by the hips towards him. Your lips landed on his, soft and warm as his tongue began to ask for permission. You let out a sigh and relaxed into his body, his hand coming up to your face to deepen the kiss. Another sigh escaped your lips as you moved to straddle his lap. He groaned as his hands found your hips once more, pushing you down onto him. You groaned when you felt him underneath you, rubbing up against your shorts. He was a good kisser too, biting gently on your lip as his hands made their way under your bum. If this was the result of wearing tiny shorts, you were going to wear them more often. Your thoughts escaped you as James' hands guided your hips over his, the rhythm matching the movements of his mouth. He was making your come undone with all of your clothes still on. You couldn't even imagine how good he'd feel with his clothes off. He groaned as he pushed you down over his length, his thumbs squeezing the front of your hips. You felt yourself starting to reach your edge as your hips began to take movements of their own. His tongue deepened the kiss while you moaned into his mouth. It felt like he knew every inch of your body already. Everything he was doing was sending you. Your sounds filled the room as his lips left yours to kiss under your jaw. His strong arms were wrapped around your middle as he teased down your neck. Your body was suddenly missing the friction, but James' arms were holding you still.

"James," you whined, squirming his arms. He chuckled into your neck.

"Just be patient, my love," he breathed, going back to nipping at your ear.

"We don't have time to be patient right now," you groaned, desperately needing to feel him. James hummed and gave your neck a soft kiss.

"You're right, we don't have time right now," James guided your head to look at him.

"But-"

"But I'll see you tonight?" He asked, a grin still plastered on his lips. You bit your lip as you smiled.

"Yes, I'll see you tonight." You blushed, giggling as you pulled yourself off of James. Maybe you'd gotten a bit carried away with your study break. James chuckled as he reached to pull your shorts down over your bum once again.

"Maybe Remus was right about these shorts," he smirked, thumbing the hem. You giggled as you heard the door open. Remus came into the room with an armful of viles. You and James let out a laugh. Good timing.

"Maybe," you winked at James and walked back over to Remus' bed. "Hi Rem. Did you bring snacks?" You plopped down onto his bed. Remus walked over and placed a tray in front you filled with sandwiches and crisps.

"Save me some," Remus nodded as he began to organize his potions supply on his desk.

"Do you want some Jamie?" you asked politely, turning to see James blush at you. His grin hadn't left his face. Remus' head perked at the nickname, but was too focused on finishing his assignment.

"I'm okay, Y/N. I'm actually gonna go run some quidditch drills. It's so nice out," James said casually, getting up to grab his quidditch bag.

"More for me," you shrugged and began to eat one of the halves. You watched James get his shoes on. His fingers looked so strong...

"Well, I'm out of here. Remus," James waved at Remus who responded with a nod. He turned to you, "See you later, Y/N." With a smile he ducked out of the room. You chuckled as you ate your sandwich, reaching for the book next to Remus' bed.

"Y/N," Remus sighed as he scribbled something onto his scroll, "why did James just say that?" You felt a smile tug at your lips.

"What? I can't hang out with James?" you chimed, flipping to your chapter in the book. Remus shook his head and tsked, continuing to work on his paper.

"It's those fucking shorts." You let out a snort.

2K notes · View notes

plasticflowersinahistorycemetery · 2 months ago

Text

don't lie to me

part I — part II — part III

pairing: boyfriend's!dad!ben x girlfriend!reader

content warning/s & word count: 18+!, ben being his own warning, forbidden relationship, power imbalance, dubious morality, age gap, language, toxic relationship, heartbreak, smut (dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, clitoral stimulation, mutual masturbation, squirting, cunnilingus/oral, p in v, spanking, marking, spitting, degradation, gentle humiliation), guilt, I think that's it. 7.1k

You didn't know when things started to go bad. Not really. But you remembered when they started to go good, and that felt important.

You and Jamie had been together for a long time. Too long, probably. Long enough to make leaving feel like failure. Long enough to confuse nostalgia with love.

It was good in the beginning. Golden, even. The kind of romance that made your friends roll their eyes but smile when they said you were lucky. Jamie had a casual kind of charm, easy in his skin, confident in the way most college boys were—like he knew the world would bend for him eventually. He brought you gas station flowers and kissed you like he meant it. He called you his girl and made you feel like that title actually meant something.

The first year was everything.

After that, the cracks came quick. The texts got shorter. The kisses got rarer. He stopped asking if you got home safe and started forgetting you were even coming over. You'd sit in your car outside his house while he "finished up at work," only to wait two hours and see him post a photo from someone else's party.

He always had an excuse. You always believed him.

Because that's what you did when you loved someone. You gave them the benefit of the doubt. You softened your edges to fit theirs, even when it left you bleeding.

Lately, it had gotten worse. The kind of worse that was hard to ignore. He stopped coming home when you were over. He'd call you, say he was just running errands, and then not show up until midnight. If at all.

So you started spending your time with someone else. Not by choice. Not at first. It just happened that way.

Because Ben was always the one who answered the door.

You'd knock, expecting Jamie, and there he'd be—broad-shouldered, barefoot, always a little scruffy like he hadn't decided whether to shave or not. He'd take one look at your apologetic smile and sigh like he was already annoyed with his son, then step aside and tell you to come in.

You'd sit on the couch with him, sometimes in silence, sometimes not. Watch football with a mug of tea he made without asking how you liked it. The commentary on the screen would hum in the background, but your attention would drift, eyes trailing the way he sat—casual, like nothing in the world could touch him. Like the room shaped itself around his gravity.

He was different from Jamie. Steady. Solid in a way that didn't demand anything from you. People used to say he was wild, back in the day. That he was the reason everyone wanted to party at their house in high school. Jamie used to brag about it, say his dad could drink anyone under the table and still wake up at dawn to run five miles. There was something about Ben that made people lean in when he spoke. Something sharp in his smile, wicked in his humor, but dulled by the years like a knife worn smooth by use.

He still cursed like a sailor, still called politicians jackasses and made crude jokes that made you choke on your drink, but there was a gentleness there too. One you weren't sure anyone else saw.

He always hugged you when you left. Tight. Firm. His hand splayed across your back like he meant it, like it mattered that you'd come.

Sometimes he said things that made your stomach twist.

"You could do better than him. That boy don't deserve someone like you."

You always brushed it off. Told yourself it was just a dad thing, a gruff attempt at keeping his son humble. You never thought there was truth behind it.

And even if there was, you'd spent so long pretending Jamie was still the boy you fell in love with... it felt dangerous to let yourself want someone who actually saw you. Someone who never made you feel like too much or not enough.

Ben never made you feel like a placeholder. But Jamie did. More and more.

And now, you were twenty-three, sitting on the same couch you always had, wrapped in the blanket Ben threw onto your lap without a word. Jamie wasn't home. Again. You didn't even ask where he was this time. You just waited. Like always.

Ben didn't ask either. He just turned up the volume on the game and passed you the popcorn.

It wasn't weird. But maybe it had been building for longer than you realised. You'd forgotten how easy it was to be around him.

The couch sagged a little beneath his weight as he shifted to grab the remote, muttering something about "goddamn commercials" under his breath before flipping to something less noisy—reruns of some old action flick, grainy and overacted. He always said he liked the classics. Said actors nowadays didn't know how to throw a punch without a green screen.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he settled back, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, the other cradling a sweating bottle of beer. His legs were spread comfortably, boots still on. He hadn't changed out of the work shirt he wore to fix the gutter earlier that afternoon—collar open, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, grease still dark beneath his nails.

You hadn't meant to fall asleep. You'd just meant to sit down for a minute. Rest your legs. Let your spine uncurl into the couch that still smelled faintly like woodsmoke and cheap detergent.

Ben was still next to you. One leg stretched out, the other bent just enough for his knee to brush yours. You weren't sure if it had always been that close. His beer sat half-finished on the table, and he was flipping through channels with the kind of concentration that made you think he'd been doing it for fifteen minutes and still hadn't found anything worth watching.

"Jesus," he muttered, "is it all just reboots and dick-measurin' contests now? Whole industry's got its head up its ass."

You blinked blearily and smiled into the throw blanket he'd tossed at you earlier. Not handed. Tossed. Like it was nothing. Like he hadn't noticed you shivering and grumbled something about "central heating bein' for soft little pricks."

He noticed everything. Just never talked like he did.

"You okay?" He asked without looking. "You were out cold for, like... four whole minutes."

"I wasn't asleep."

"Right." He snorted. "You were just aggressively meditatin' with your mouth open."

You laughed before you could stop it. A sharp little sound in the quiet. His mouth twitched, just barely.

That was the thing with Ben. Everything was just barely. Just under the surface. Just on the edge of being something else.

He leaned back, arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers drumming against the cushion behind your head like he wasn't thinking about how close they were. Like it didn't matter.

"You know," he drawled, "I always figured my kid was dumb, but this shit? Tellin' you to come over and then pulling a Houdini? That's a whole new level of dumbass. Like, Olympic-tier."

You grinned, cheeks warm. "You're not supposed to say that."

"Yeah, well." He shrugged. "What's he gonna do? Cry about it into his fuckin' vape?"

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold in another laugh. "He says he's just busy. Work's been—"

Ben made a sharp noise in his throat. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make excuses for him." He finally looked at you. Direct. That sharp green stare like he was lining up a target. "He's not that busy. Nobody's that busy. You don't leave someone like you sittin' on a couch with a guy like me unless you're either a fuckin' idiot or just don't give a shit."

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Your heart thumped a little harder.

Ben ran a hand over his jaw, rough and tired. "Christ. I didn't mean it like that."

"No, I... I know."

He shifted, tension bleeding into his shoulders like he was trying to shake it off. "You're tired. Go crash upstairs if you want. Guest room's clean. Or Jamie's, if you feel like baskin' in the smell of Axe body spray and underachievement."

You smiled, soft. "I like sitting with you."

Ben paused. Brief, but enough to notice.

"Yeah," he said, quiet. "I like it too."

And that was it. He didn't touch you. Didn't move closer. Just let it sit there between you, real and unspoken.

The TV flickered on, casting blue light across his face. The room was quiet. Safe.

Then your phone buzzed. You looked down. Jamie. Ben caught the name on the screen and went still, like a hunting dog catching scent. He didn't say anything—just leaned back a little, eyes still on the screen.

You answered.

"Hey," you said, already curling into yourself, trying not to sound too hopeful.

A laugh. Not Jamie's. A girl.

Then Jamie's voice, distant and smug: "Yeah, hey. So, I've been thinking. We should break up."

It hit like a car crash. Sudden. No brakes. You blinked at the wall, your mouth parting in disbelief.

Ben's head turned, slow and sharp. "He what?" He said, voice low.

You didn't answer. Couldn't. You were still listening to Jamie—still trying to make sense of what he was saying while someone giggled beside him, soft and syrupy.

He told you to grab your stuff and head out. That was it. No apology. No hesitation. Just a quick, "Later," and the line went dead.

Your phone dropped to your lap. You didn't cry, but Ben stood slowly, the couch groaning as his weight shifted. He didn't speak at first—just watched you, jaw working like he was biting down on something bitter.

You forced yourself to move. To smile like nothing had happened. Like you hadn't just been gutted from the inside out by a boy who couldn't even break up with you alone.

"I should grab my stuff," you said lightly, pushing the blanket aside. "Jamie's not gonna be back anytime soon, so..."

You moved to stand, but Ben stepped into your path before you could take a full breath. His hand caught your wrist—not hard, just enough to stop you.

"Hey."

You looked up at him. His eyes searched yours, green and dark and unrelenting.

"Tell me what just happened."

You shook your head, tried to pull your arm back gently, but he didn't let go.

"It's nothing."

"Bullshit," he snapped.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't cruel. But it cut through the air like a blade. Your stomach twisted.

"I'm serious," you insisted, keeping your voice light. "It's not a big deal. We just... talked. That's all."

His grip tightened—not painful, but firm. His other hand hovered for a second, like he didn't know where to put it. Then he let it fall.

"Don't lie to me," he said, quieter now. Rough around the edges. "You think I don't know what that voice means? I've known you too long for that."

You looked down at where his fingers wrapped around your wrist, your skin warmer than it should've been. That was when you noticed it—his hands were clean now. The dark streaks of grease that had been etched into the creases of his knuckles earlier were gone. No smudges under his nails. He'd washed up when you weren't looking.

When you were "sleeping." He'd done it quietly. Without saying anything. Like he didn't want to wake you.

Your throat tightened.

"It's fine," you said again, barely above a whisper. "Really. I just... I should go."

Ben exhaled hard through his nose. Then he stepped in, close enough that the scent of clean soap and warm cotton hit you like a memory. His hand was still on your wrist. He dropped his voice.

"You're not goin' anywhere until you tell me what the hell just happened."

You hesitated. Swallowed. It wasn't even that you wanted to protect Jamie anymore—you just didn't want to see it. Didn't want to put the words into the air and make them real. But Ben's stare didn't budge. And you'd never been good at lying to him.

"He..." You took a shaky breath. "He called. From someone's car. A girl. She was laughing in the background."

Ben's jaw clenched, sharp enough that the muscle jumped.

"He broke up with me," you finished, soft and stunned, like you were still catching up to it.

He didn't speak. Not at first. His thumb brushed against the inside of your wrist—once, slow. It felt like a pulse.

"Fuckin' coward," he muttered.

You didn't argue. You didn't say anything at all. Because the silence that followed felt like the beginning of something neither of you could name.

Ben didn't let go of your wrist until you blinked again. He watched you like he was waiting for you to crumble, to fall apart right in front of him. And maybe you would've, if he hadn't caught you first.

"You're not drivin' like this."

"I'm fine," you tried again, but your voice didn't hold. It cracked at the edge.

"No, you're not," he snapped, already steering you back toward the couch like the conversation was over. "You're shakin' like a goddamn leaf and your face is doin' that thing—don't gimme that look."

"I'm not—"

"Sit."

You sat.

Ben stood over you for a second, running a hand through his hair like he wanted to rip it out. Then he turned, muttering under his breath as he stomped toward the stairs.

"Little shitbag can't even grow a pair to break up with a girl like a goddamn man," he grumbled. "Calls you from someone else's fuckin' car? While she's gigglin'? Jesus Christ, what a pathetic excuse for a—"

He kept going as he climbed the stairs, the sound of his boots thudding heavier with each step. You stared at the muted television, every nerve in your body ringing. Your hands were curled into the hem of your shirt. Your chest ached.

You hadn't realised how heavy the silence in this house had gotten until Ben's voice had filled it.

A few minutes later, he came back down with your overnight bag slung over one shoulder, his jaw set, expression thunderous.

"That my stuff?" You asked, sitting up straighter.

He dropped the bag near the hallway, closer to the guest room than the front door.

"Movin' it."

You blinked. "What?"

"The guest room." He shrugged like it was nothing. "Jamie's room smells like old socks and broken promises. You're better off."

"I can't stay here."

"Sure you can."

"Ben—"

"I already called him." His voice was low, clipped. "Told him not to come home tonight. Told him if he did, I'd knock his teeth so far down his throat he'd be spittin' molars 'til Christmas."

Your mouth fell open.

"You... you didn't."

He raised a brow. "Sure did. And he agreed. Pussy little prick probably didn't want to face you anyway."

You shook your head, heart starting to beat faster. "I can't do that. It's not fair."

Ben looked at you for a long second. Then he let out a breath through his nose—tight, bitter.

"No," he said finally. "It's not. But it's the first goddamn time anyone's treated you even half as good as you deserve in this house. And I'm not lettin' you crawl out the front door like you're just some fuckin' afterthought."

Your breath caught.

He didn't seem to notice what he'd said—he was too busy crouching to unzip your bag, mumbling something about pyjamas and Advil, like this was any other night. Like he hadn't just dropped a live wire between you.

You sat frozen, replaying the words.

The first goddamn time anyone's treated you even half as good as you deserve in this house.

You weren't sure exactly what he'd meant. But something about the way he said it, the heat under the gravel of his voice, the way he hadn't looked at you after—it felt like a confession. Small. Raw. Dangerous.

You looked away, cheeks burning.

He didn't mean it like that. He couldn't have. You were just upset. You were reading into things. Making it worse than it was.

Ben was just being... kind. That was all.

Ben moved through your bag with that familiar, rough focus he had when something pissed him off. He didn't bother asking about what to grab—he just reached into it and fished out your pyjamas, a ratty old pair of flannel shorts and a loose t-shirt. He tossed them at you with a grunt, the fabric landing in your lap.

"Change. Now. I'm not lettin' you leave this house tonight. You need sleep. And if I gotta make you comfortable to get it, then I will."

You took a deep breath and nodded. Maybe you'd actually get a good night's sleep here for once—something you hadn't been able to do in weeks. Maybe it was the comfort of Ben's familiar grumbling, or maybe it was the fact that the world felt just a little bit safer when he was here.

"Thanks," you murmured, standing up and heading toward the guest room to change.

When you came back out a few minutes later, the house was still. The television had been muted, and there were two cold beers sweating on the table. Ben tipped his head toward the beers with a casual nod.

"Take one if you want," he muttered, still clearly worked up about his son. "Or if you're picky, you know where I keep the good shit."

You hesitated for a second, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Good shit. Ben's idea of "good shit" usually meant top-shelf whiskey or one of those small-batch bourbons you could only find if you knew the right people. You weren't picky tonight.

"I'll take the beer, thanks."

Ben grunted in acknowledgment, but his eyes were already back on the TV, his jaw tight with whatever thoughts were spiralling in his head.

"You know," he started, his voice low, almost like he was speaking to himself, "you're always so goddamn polite when you're here. Always so considerate. Thoughtful. Mindful. You don't act like the rest of 'em."

He didn't look at you. Instead, he grabbed his own beer and took a long sip, eyes still fixed on the TV.

"You're too good for him," Ben added, his voice barely above a murmur. "That kid... James, he's been a goddamn disappointment for a while now, and I've been too patient with him."

You couldn't help it—you let out a small giggle at the way Ben spoke about his son. It wasn't just the words, but the way his voice broke with frustration and the rawness of it all.

"You know," you said softly, taking a sip from your beer to hide your smile, "I didn't think you'd be so pissed."

Ben's lips twisted into something that could've been a smile if he wasn't so damn angry. "You didn't think I'd be so pissed? You must not've been listenin', sweetheart."

You shook your head. "I didn't realise how much that pissed you off."

"Don't get me started." He leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. "He's been draggin' his ass through life like a fuckin' kid playing pretend. And you? You deserve so much more than that. Always takin' care of everyone but yourself. Jamie don't appreciate you." His voice softened for a second. Then it hardened again, muttering, "Useless waste of space."

You chuckled under your breath, the sound foreign in the quiet room. Even in a moment like this, Ben could still pull that laugh out of you. It wasn't even a joke, really. But the way he spoke about his son was so Ben—raw, unapologetically real, and somehow endearing even when it was brutal.

You looked at him, confused by the sharp pang of emotion in your chest. You should've been angry. You should've been crying. But instead, you found yourself giggling, something warm in your belly, even though the weight of Jamie's call was still hanging over you.

"Why do I feel like I'm laughing at the worst possible time?" You murmured, shaking your head. "Like, I know you're furious, but..."

Ben didn't look at you right away. He just took another long pull from his beer and muttered, "Yeah, well. Better to laugh than cry, right?"

You weren't sure if he was talking to you or himself.

Then he glanced over—brief, like he couldn't help it—and added, a little quieter, "Kid pulls that shit on you, and you're still sittin' here being polite... no wonder I'm the one losin' it."

Ben hadn't stopped ranting since you sat back down.

Your beer was cold in your hand, sweating like your palms. He was muttering, swearing under his breath, one hand raking through his hair while the other gestured to ghosts in the air around him.

"Fuckin' unbelievable. Kid's got a girl like you sittin' in his house and decides to toss you aside like a fast-food wrapper." He scoffed. "Jesus Christ."

You didn't say anything. You weren't sure you could. There was a weight in your throat that hadn't moved since the call ended. But Ben kept going, voice low and sharp like a knife sliding over a whetstone.

"I mean, really—what the fuck does he think he's gonna do better than you?" He turned, finally facing you, heat still simmering behind his eyes. "You're here, lookin' like that, sittin' on my couch in your little pyjamas, and he's out there dick-first in somebody else's backseat?"

You looked up, startled. "Ben..."

But he wasn't done.

"God, if you were mine..." His voice dropped, rough and quiet, the words dragging out of him before he could stop them. "I wouldn't let you leave the fuckin' bed."

The silence snapped taut.

You sucked in a breath. Tiny. Audible. And his eyes flicked straight to you. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks instantly, your fingers tightening around the bottle in your lap, heart hammering like it wanted to break your ribs. You didn't look at him. Couldn't.

But it was too late. He'd seen it. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. Not softer—never softer—but lower. Controlled. Deliberate.

"Yeah. You like that, huh?"

Your head turned toward him before you could stop it, eyes wide.

Ben didn't smile. His expression barely changed. But he shifted on the couch, leaned in just a little, forearm braced against his knee, beer bottle hanging forgotten between his fingers.

"'Course you do. He doesn't have a clue what he had." His voice rasped, barely above a whisper now. "Didn't know how to look at you. Not really. Not like I do."

You were trembling. Not from fear. Not from heartbreak. From something darker. Thicker. Want. You couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. His leg brushed yours when he leaned in further.

"Sittin' there in those little shorts," he murmured, eyes dropping—slow, deliberate, dragging over your thighs and back up. "All sweet and soft, tryin' to play it cool. Like I haven't been noticin' every fuckin' inch of you for months."

Your breath caught.

Ben let the silence stretch. Then he leaned just a little closer, his voice so low it felt like it was inside you.

"Tell me the truth," he said. "The little fuck ever even make you moan?"

You gasped. You didn't mean to. It slipped out of you like a secret, sharp and quiet and real. Your eyes snapped to his—wide, shocked, pleading for him to pretend he hadn't said it.

He didn't. His gaze didn't waver. If anything, it darkened.

"Or was he too busy admirin' his own reflection to figure out how to touch you?"

You stared at him, frozen.

"Bet I'd only need one hand," he muttered, more to himself than you. "Maybe two, if I wanted to be generous."

Your thighs pressed together.

Ben's eyes dropped. Noticed. His jaw ticked. He leaned in—closer now, the heat of him thick in the space between you. Close enough to count every fleck in his eyes, every scar on his knuckles, every breath that ghosted between your mouths.

"You're thinkin' about it now, huh?"

You couldn't answer. You didn't need to. Because your body already had. And Ben? Ben looked like he was about to sin for the first time in his life—and fucking thank God for it.

Ben hadn't touched you. Not once. And still, your whole body was trembling.

Your knees were pressed together, your thighs aching with tension. You could feel the way your breath stuttered in your throat, the way your grip had gone white-knuckled around your beer. He was still so close. Still watching you like he could see straight through every layer you'd ever used to protect yourself.

"You're thinkin' about it now, ain't you?" He asked again, quieter this time. Like a secret.

You didn't respond. You couldn't. But something in your silence made his eyes darken. Made the air in the room twist into something dangerous.

Ben sat back slightly, but only to set his beer down on the table. The bottle clinked. His eyes never left yours.

Then, voice low and deliberate, he said the thing that broke you.

"If I had you," he murmured, rough and slow like gravel in molasses, "you wouldn't be sittin' here wonderin' what it feels like to be wanted. You'd be fuckin' glowing."

Your stomach dropped. A sound slipped out of you—unbidden, humiliatingly soft.

A whine.

Ben's jaw ticked. And then—he smiled. Not sweetly. Not kindly. He smiled like a man who'd just won something.

"Yeah," he muttered, almost to himself. "There she is."

You looked at him, startled, every nerve in your body tight and humming. But he didn't move toward you. He didn't lunge or grab. He just spread his legs a little wider and patted his thigh, lazy and confident.

"C'mere."

You blinked.

"What—"

His brows lifted. "You want me to make you feel better, don't you?"

Your breath caught again.

He cocked his head, smirk widening like he could see every thought unraveling behind your eyes.

"Or you gonna sit there playin' good girl until it hurts?" His voice was velvet-wrapped sin, laced with dry amusement. "Your call."

You stared at him, frozen. He didn't push. Just let his hand rest on his thigh, palm open, warm and steady.

"Not gonna beg," he said, tone lighter now, teasing. "You want it, sweetheart, you come take it."

That did something to you. The challenge. The smugness. The fact that he was still so patient with it. Like he knew he didn't need to do anything but wait you out.

And god help you, it was working.

You swallowed hard. Shifted slightly on the couch. Heart hammering.

Ben's gaze flicked down—watched the movement. Still didn't touch you. But his voice dropped one last octave. Soft now. Almost sincere.

"You want comfort?" He said. "You want someone to show you what it's supposed to feel like?"

His hand flexed against his thigh. The invitation was silent. Waiting.

"C'mere, baby girl."

You didn't move at first.

Just stared at his lap like it might catch fire if you touched it. Your fingers tightened around the neck of your beer bottle, your pulse thudding against the inside of your throat like it was trying to climb out.

Ben just watched you. Silent. Still.

You set the bottle down. Carefully. Deliberately. It hit the table with a quiet clink. Then you stood. Moved in front of him. Stood between his knees.

He tilted his head back to look up at you, brows raised, like he was amused that you'd made it this far. Like he was proud.

His legs were spread, but not wide enough—not yet. You looked down at the space between them, at the lazy way he was leaning back into the couch, relaxed in that heavy, masculine way like his body knew you were coming before you did.

"You look like you're tryin' to solve a fuckin' puzzle," he said, voice low, teasing. "Ain't that complicated, sweetheart. You want it, you take it."

You flushed. Still, you didn't move.

Ben's voice softened, but somehow it only made everything worse.

"You nervous?" He asked, head cocked slightly. "Or just takin' your time with me?"

You glanced at him, breath shaky, and he smiled—soft. Not mocking. Not smug. Just warm.

Then he leaned back further into the couch and spread his legs wider, thighs shifting beneath the thin cotton of his sweats, settling in like a man getting comfortable.

Waiting. Watching.

"I've got all night," he murmured. "But you don't need to wait, baby girl. You want to feel better?" His eyes flicked to your mouth. "Come take it."

Your knees nearly buckled.

You climbed into his lap before you could stop yourself. Slow. Careful. Like if you moved too fast, you might spook yourself and bolt back to the other side of the room. Your legs slid over his thighs and you lowered yourself, your hands braced on his shoulders, every part of you tense with something that felt like fear and desire tied together with string.

And only then—only when you were fully in his lap, straddling him—did he touch you. His hands lifted. Large, steady palms settling on your waist like he'd been waiting years for permission.

"Shit," he muttered, almost to himself. "Look at you."

You swallowed, your breath catching.

Ben's hands flexed against your sides. Just a little. Just enough.

"You're shakin'," he said softly.

You nodded, too breathless to speak.

"Not scared of me, are you?"

You shook your head.

"Good," he murmured. "'Cause I'd never hurt you, baby. Never."

His eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes. His voice dropped further—more gravel, more hunger.

"I'll ruin you. But I'll never hurt you."

You whimpered. Couldn't help it.

And Ben smirked, like that was exactly what he was hoping for. Then he leaned in. His mouth hovered just beside your ear, breath warm against your skin.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, voice thick and deliberate. "Use your words."

Your breath stuttered. Your nails dug into his shoulders.

"I... I want you," you managed, quiet and trembling.

Ben's hand stilled on your waist. Then he let out the softest, filthiest little sound—something between a hum and a chuckle.

"Yeah?" He rasped, tipping his head to look at you fully. "Want me to what, sweetheart?"

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He grinned, slow and dark, eyes dragging over your mouth.

"C'mon," he said, voice a touch rougher now. "You're already in my lap like a good little thing. Say it like you mean it."

You were shaking. Not with fear. Not anymore. With the pressure of it all—of him, of you, of everything he'd said. The weight of being seen. The heat coiled so deep inside you it ached. You wanted. God, you wanted. You wanted him like you'd never wanted anything in your life.

Ben's hand slid from your waist to your hip, slow and possessive, his thumb dragging across your skin through the thin fabric of your pyjama shorts.

"Still waitin', baby," he murmured. "Thought you had something to say."

You broke.

"I want you to touch me," you whispered, breathless. "I want you to make me feel good. I want—" you swallowed, cheeks burning, "—I want you to fuckin' ruin me."

Ben's groan hit you like a thunderclap.

"Fuck," he hissed, head falling back slightly. His hips jerked once, grinding up into you so hard and slow your whole body jolted in his lap. "Christ on a cross."

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut, the thick press of him beneath you lighting a fire between your legs.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers flexing hard enough to bruise.

"You want it that bad, huh?" He rasped, voice wrecked. "Want my hands on you? Want me to make that pretty little body beg for it?"

You whimpered. Nodded. Couldn't breathe.

Ben's mouth curved, dangerous and pleased.

"Then come give me a fuckin' kiss, baby girl."

You didn't lunge. You leaned in slow. Tentative. Your breath caught in your throat as you moved forward inch by inch, like some part of you still didn't believe this was happening. Like getting too close might wake you up from whatever this was.

Ben didn't move. Didn't blink. He just watched you.

His eyes were half-lidded, heavy, and he was breathing slow—calm on the outside, but you could see it, the storm under his skin. His hands stayed where they were, resting on your waist, fingers flexing every so often like it was taking everything in him not to pull you down the rest of the way.

"Yeah," he murmured, voice so low it vibrated through you. "That's it. C'mon. You're right there."

You inched closer. Your knees squeezed tighter around his hips. Your hands found his chest, broad and hot beneath your palms, and you swore you could feel his heartbeat through the thin cotton of his shirt—deep and steady like a drum.

"Take your time," Ben said softly. "Ain't goin' anywhere."

That wrecked you.

Your mouth hovered just above his now, your nose brushing his, your breath mingling with his in the warm, electric space between.

"Good girl," he rasped. "Now kiss me."

And you did. You pressed your mouth to his—slow, open, reverent.

He met you there. And it was everything. His lips moved with yours like he'd mapped this moment out in his head a hundred times. Deep. Unhurried. Filthy in the way it devoured your breath but never pushed. His tongue dragged against yours with a groan that left your thighs trembling, his hands tightening on your hips as your body melted down into his.

He kissed like he was teaching you something. Like he wanted you to remember this when you were alone later, wrecked and ruined and aching for him again.

You moaned against his mouth and he pulled you in tighter, his fingers bruising into your hips as he rolled up into you, slow and hard.

The kiss deepened. Wet. Heavy. Hot enough to burn. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging just enough to make you whimper before he soothed the sting with his tongue.

"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth. "Listen to you."

You ground down harder, chasing friction, and he met you, hips grinding up into yours like he couldn't help himself anymore.

One of his hands flew to the back of your neck, dragging you deeper into the kiss as his hips thrust up again, slow and deliberate. The other guided your movements, helping you rock in his lap, the thick ridge of him grinding perfectly through the layers between you.

"Atta girl," he growled against your mouth. "That's it. Just like that. Ride it out."

You writhed, panting, your fingers tangled in the front of his shirt, grounding yourself as he took you apart without even needing to move.

His kisses were wet, filthy, all tongue and heat and groaning breath. He kissed like he meant it. Like he owned your mouth. Like it had been his since the first time you said hi to him at the front door and he let his eyes linger a little too long.

You cried out as he guided your hips harder, the friction dizzying, filthy sounds echoing through the room.

"You're so fuckin' pretty," he murmured against your lips. "So good for me. He ever get you makin' these sounds?"

You shook your head, dazed, lips slick and parted.

"Didn't fuckin' think so."

He kissed you again—harder this time, stealing your breath, your thoughts, your name. His grip tightened as he ground up into you again, slow and punishing, like he wanted to drag every sound out of you and make you remember it later, alone in your bed, still aching for him.

"You feel that?" He rasped, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your throat. "That's how bad I wanted you. Every fuckin' time you walked in here, smilin', bein' sweet, sittin' at my table like you belonged there—this is what I had to fight."

You whined again, rolling your hips down into him, chasing more.

Ben groaned, hands grabbing tight at your ass now, dragging you down against him in rhythm.

"No more fightin', baby," he growled. "Not now."

And you believed him. Because whatever this was—it had already taken you both.

You couldn't stop moving. Every time your hips rocked into his, every time his hands dragged you closer, it just got worse—better—hotter. You were soaked through your pyjamas, breath coming in shallow little pants between kisses that only got filthier the longer they lasted.

Ben was panting now too, forehead pressed to yours, lips slick and pink and kiss-bruised. His hands were still on your ass, guiding every motion like he was conducting a symphony made just for him.

"You're drivin' me fuckin' insane," he groaned. "You feel what you're doin' to me?"

You nodded, breathless.

He growled. Actually growled. Then his mouth was on your throat again, teeth dragging slow over your skin before he pulled back just enough to look at you—his pupils blown wide, jaw tight.

"Off," he said, nodding toward your shirt.

You froze. Heat rushed to your cheeks.

But Ben didn't push. Just let his hands slide back to your waist, eyes dragging over your face, patient even while he looked like he was seconds from snapping.

"You don't gotta be shy," he murmured, voice lower now, rougher. "Not with me."

You swallowed, then reached down with shaking fingers and pulled your shirt over your head.

Ben's mouth parted.

His gaze dropped like a stone, dragging down your neck, your chest, every inch of newly bare skin until it landed on the swell of your breasts and stayed there. You weren't wearing a bra—hadn't expected to need one—and the second he saw that, his hands twitched.

"Jesus fuck," he muttered. "Look at you."

You shifted in his lap, suddenly aware of everything. Your breath, your thighs, the way your nipples peaked under his stare.

Ben leaned forward.

Not kissing. Not touching. Just bringing his mouth close enough that you felt his breath against your chest. His hands slid up—slow, warm, calloused—and cupped you gently, like he was still making sure you were real.

"You been hidin' this from me all this time?" He rasped.

You whimpered.

And then he kissed your breast. Open-mouthed. Hot. A filthy, reverent drag of his tongue over your nipple before he pulled it into his mouth and sucked.

Your whole body jolted.

"Ben—!"

"That's it," he muttered against your skin. "Let me hear you."

You moaned, rolling your hips down into him again, needy and shaking.

He pulled back with a wet sound, licking his lips as his hand slid down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Gonna show you what it feels like," he said. "You remember what I said?"

You nodded, dazed. "One hand."

Ben smirked.

"Damn right."

He leaned in, kissed you again—slower this time, deep and thick and hot—while his hand slid inside your waistband, knuckles dragging down over soft, soaked cotton.

"Fuck me," he breathed. "You're already drippin'."

You whimpered, hands gripping his shoulders, rocking into his touch without shame now.

Ben's fingers dipped lower, sliding between your folds over your panties, just enough to make you cry out.

"That's right," he growled, "ride my fuckin' fingers. Show me how bad you needed this."

You did. You couldn't stop. You were shaking in his lap, panting into his mouth, his hand wedged between your bodies while he stroked slow and deep over the thin barrier of your panties, never rushing, never giving you quite enough.

"Ben—please—"

His mouth was back on yours, swallowing the desperate sound as his fingers finally slipped under the fabric and found your clit—bare, wet, aching.

You sobbed into his mouth.

"Shh," he whispered, kissing you softer now. "I got you, baby. Gonna make you come just like this, sittin' pretty in my lap. Nice and slow."

He circled your clit with maddening precision, dragging two thick fingers through your slick heat while his other hand stayed firm on your waist, anchoring you there, his.

"You're already so close," he muttered, voice wrecked. "I can feel it."

You gasped, grinding into his palm, head falling to his shoulder. He kissed your neck, your jaw, your temple.

"You gonna come for me, baby girl?"

"Y-Yeah—Ben—"

"Then come. C'mon. Wanna feel you fall apart."

You shattered.

It hit fast and hard, ripping through your core like a lightning strike. You cried out, clutching his shirt, grinding into his hand while your thighs trembled around him. Ben held you through all of it—murmuring filth into your hair, groaning into your ear, his fingers still slow and gentle even as you gasped and bucked against his lap.

"That's my girl," he whispered, dragging his fingers back up to circle your clit one more time just to watch you twitch. "Fuckin' perfect."

You were still gasping when he kissed you again—deep, slow, savouring you.

"Look at that," Ben rasped against your mouth, fingers sliding lazy circles over your oversensitive clit. "Just made a fuckin' mess in my lap."

You whimpered, thighs twitching as your hips bucked into his hand again, helpless and overstimulated. "I-I can't—"

"Yeah, you can." He nipped at your jaw, then kissed the sting away. "Gonna give me another one while you take care of me. That too much for you, baby girl?"

Your heart stuttered in your chest. You shook your head, breathless. "No. I—I want to."

Ben growled. Low and hungry.

"Yeah?" He leaned back slightly, eyes locking on yours, smug and reverent all at once. "Then show me."

You slid your hand between your bodies with shaking fingers, reaching down to where he was thick and hard under his sweats—obscene with how long he'd been like that. Your fingertips brushed over him through the cotton, and he shuddered.

"Fuck," he gritted, head falling back for just a second. "There you go. C'mon, sweetheart. Take it out."

You didn't need to be told twice.

Your hand slipped beneath the waistband, fingers curling around him—hot, hard, heavy in your palm—and Ben groaned, loud and wrecked.

"That's it. Fuck, your hand's so small," he growled. "You gonna stroke it nice for me, baby? You gonna be good?"

You nodded quickly, already moving your hand, pumping him slow, your grip slick with the way your own arousal coated your skin. You couldn't believe how wet you still were—how much you needed more, even after what he'd just done to you.

Ben's breath caught as your fist curled tighter around him.

"Jesus," he hissed. "That's it. Don't stop. Just like that."

His fingers moved faster now, dragging tight circles over your clit, dipping down to tease through your folds before sliding up again, matching the rhythm of your strokes. You gasped, thighs trembling, your hips rocking into his palm at the same time as you jerked him in your fist.

The motion was filthy. Perfect.

Wet sounds filled the room—your slick, his cock, the breathless moans you couldn't hold back. He was panting now, fingers digging into your thigh to steady you.

"Such a fuckin' good girl," he growled. "Sittin' there all pretty in my lap, makin' me feel so fuckin' good—Jesus, keep goin', baby, don't stop—"

You moaned, your forehead pressed to his shoulder, breath hot against his neck as you stroked him harder. He was throbbing in your hand now, his hips jerking up into your fist as his fingers circled your clit ruthlessly, forcing another orgasm up your spine like he needed to feel you fall apart again before he let go.

You cried out, hand faltering, and Ben caught your jaw in his palm, kissed you hard and open-mouthed, tongue filthy against yours.

"That's it. Come with me," he whispered against your lips. "Wanna feel you squeeze my fuckin' fingers while I come all over your hand. You want that?"

"Yes—Ben—yes—"

"Then fuckin' take it."

You shattered again—your whole body tensing, legs trembling, hips grinding into his hand as the orgasm crashed through you harder than the first, and at the same time, Ben snarled your name, hips jerking up into your fist as he spilled hot and thick over your hand and into his sweats, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a desperate groan.

You were both panting, wrecked, clinging to each other in the thick, sticky heat.

Ben's hand slid from between your legs, dragging up your thigh, slow and reverent. He pressed his lips to your temple, still catching his breath.

"Fuck," he whispered. "You were worth waitin' for."

a/n: AHH! So, obviously an AU. I hope y'all liked. I liked. Just let me know what you thought... I'm kinda obsessed with this one. The dynamic feels so baddirtywrong and it's my favourite. Ew. Also, you know the craic, if the warnings listed above aren't evident yet? They will be in the next part. Hehehehe. I just needed a lil break from "eyes too close to let me" and also... I was high and this became sentient all by itself. In the words of William Butcher: you're all fucking welcome. Until the next one? Smin signing off. All the love.

Ben/Soldier Boy taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah. @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @0ccvltism @bittersweetfig @lyarr24 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @ohgodimgoungtodie @cevansbaby-dove @paristheonewhoreads @winchestersbgirl @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l @kaz-2y5-spn <3

#pfiahc writes #my writing #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic #soldier boy au #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfiction #the boys au #the boys smut #the boys fanfic #the boys x female reader #the boys x you #the boys x reader

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amiableness · 10 months ago

Text

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 3671 words & 18+

series masterlist ; main masterlist here it is! part two of this blurb. all the hugs and kisses to @moonpascal for reading and giving me tips/ideas! happy reading, angels! 💌

While James is gone, your thoughts spiral out of control. You consider slipping out of his bed and retreating to the living room, where the space feels less charged. A nagging voice in your mind insists that James would be more at ease if you weren’t in his bed. You’ve been in his bed before, shared countless late-night conversations and quiet moments, but this time it feels wildly different.

The air was thick with tension, something you’d felt even after James left the room, and it made you question whether you should create some distance before he returned. The last thing you wanted was to put him in an uncomfortable position. Lying in his bed while his son called you “mum” surely must have felt that way to him.

You’ve just sat up in bed, ready to slip out from under the covers, when James quietly reenters the room, closing the door with a soft click. He turns and catches sight of you sitting up, your uncertainty evident in the way you watch him. One brow arches in silent inquiry, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh,” you murmur, easing yourself back into the sheets, your hands nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. “No.”

James lets out a satisfied hum, his voice low and warm, “Good.”

You chew on your lip, watching as he runs a hand through his hair, tousling the curls. You fight back a smile, thinking how just a few minutes ago, Henry’s hair looked exactly the same.

“Listen,” he starts. “I want to thank you for going along with Henry calling you mum. I know it might have been a bit of a shock.” His voice is soft as he acknowledges the almost-four-year-old sleeping down the hallway. You feel a wave of emotion at the mention of the little boy.

“A bit.” You say softly.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt as he runs a hand through his hair again—a gesture that betrays his nerves. “I’ll talk to him in the morning and explain that he can’t call you that.”

A pause lingers between you. Neither of you speaks, the quiet hum of the TV the only thing breaking the stillness.

“Or you don’t have to.” You say gently, pushing the covers aside as you shift to the edge of the bed in front of him. He watches you intently, his eyes darting down to trace over your bare legs. You’re wearing the shorts that drive him crazy—especially now, with you in his bed.

“What?” He asks, his tone dripping with surprise.

“It’s okay if he wants to call me ‘mum’. If you’re okay with it,” you say shyly, and he can tell from the way you bite down on your lower lip and stare up at him that you’re nervous. “I consider him mine.” You continue, your voice coming out in a near whisper.

That’s all it takes.

James pushes himself forward with a determined intensity, his hand cupping your cheek as he tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb gently caresses your bottom lip, sending a shiver through you as your lashes flutter with anticipation. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and captures your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. You respond with a shuddering sigh.

He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “He is yours.”

You can hardly respond. The words are stuck in your throat, trapped by the rising emotions. You couldn’t have heard himright. “Jamie, I—”

“You’ve raised him with me.” He tells you, kneeling between your legs, his warm palms gently pushing your thighs apart so he can press close to you.

A slow, gentle kiss is pressed to your cheek, “Been such a good mum, darling.” He whispers, his voice is rough against your ear.

James grins at the sound of the soft whimper that escapes your lips. Eyes wide and lips parted, you gaze up at him, caught between surprise and desire.

He’s beginning to think you like being praised.

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” He tests as his lips graze the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively reach out, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as a surge of heat shoots through you, straight to between your legs.

He grins, his theory proven correct. Your hips roll, desperate for friction, as your chest pushes further into his.

“Taking care of my son,” Your eyes flutter closed, letting him run his palm down your neck, tilting your head to the side. Another kiss is placed below your ear, pulling a whimper from your lips. “Our son”

The hand that isn’t cradling your neck glides up your thigh, fingers grazing your skin before gripping your hip firmly, his touch possessive. He squeezes the flesh, sending a wave of heat through you. The sigh you let out is soft, almost a whimper, betraying how desperately you’re losing control under his touch.

“Jamie.” A whimper escapes you as desire coils tightly in your stomach, almost unbearable. You’ve never ached for someone’s touch as much as you do now, every nerve ending alive with need.

“It’s your turn to be taken care of, love.” He mumbles, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your face tightens, struggling to contain the lump that forms in your throat from his words.

He pulls back from you, sitting back on his heels as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your mouth goes dry as your gaze locks onto his fingers, watching them deftly work each button open, one by one. He’s moving slowly, almost deliberately, focusing on the task as if he’s oblivious to how your eyes are glued to him.

But you know better than that.

The fabric parts gradually, revealing more of his chest with each undone button, and the air between you seems to thicken with anticipation.

Your focus is dialed into the movement of his hands and the soft rustle of his shirt as he moves. Your thighs press together, the anticipation building unbearably. You reach for the band of his dress pants, fingers curling around the fabric, trying to convey your urgent need. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and he gives you a smile that’s as devastating as it is knowing.

“Slide up on the bed, darling.” He tells you as he pops open the last button and slides his shirt off, revealing his tanned and toned torso.

You obey without hesitation, your body responding instinctively to his command.

He casually tosses his shirt onto the top of the dresser, the fabric landing in a careless heap. Then he climbs onto the bed, moving with deliberate ease until he’s hovering over you, his presence overwhelming and inescapable.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, his voice rough with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. “So beautiful that sometimes I can’t even think straight when I’m around you.”

“Stop it.” You sigh, though there’s no real sharpness in your tone. You’re simply trying to mask how flustered he’s making you.

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your tank top, tugging it off your shoulder, “I’m serious, baby. Do you know how many years I’ve spent dreaming of worshiping your body?”

Baby. That’s new.

“Fuck, I need you to touch me.” You sigh, your voice coated in desperation.

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice dripping with a cocky undertone. You hate how much it stirs you up, the confidence in his tone intensifying your reaction.

You nod frantically, “Yeah.”

Your eyes flutter closed as James slides the other strap of your top off your shoulder. There’s a brief, charged pause before you feel his lips grazing your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He murmurs tender compliments, his words melting into the softness of your skin.

The hem slips down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, and you can feel your nipples harden. James curses before leaning down, eager to press a soft kiss against your right nipple. You draw in a sharp breath, so sudden that James glances up at you in surprise. But you’re too absorbed in the sensation, head thrown back, to notice his reaction.

He takes his time, sucking on your nipples until you’re whining before trailing kisses lower and lower down your body. Stopping at the band of your sleep shorts, he glances up at you for permission. You meet his gaze and give him a smallnod, and then he’s tugging down the flimsy fabric along with your panties and tossing them aside.

The light from his lamp is reflecting off your slick, and he’s never wanted anything more. All those years he spent dreaming of this moment, imagining what it would be like to have you this close. Now that it’s finally happening, he can’t quite grasp that it’s real—that you’re here, within reach, and this isn’t just another fleeting fantasy.

“Fuck, I wanna taste you,” James groans, staring down at your soaked pussy. “Please let me, baby.”

You don’t say anything but instead spread your thighs, your hands gripping underneath the backs of your knees. He grins, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to hold you open for him. The tip of his nose brushes against your thighs as he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. The shaky exhale that slips from your lips at his touch has him growing uncomfortably hard.

When he nips at your inner thigh, a playful squeal escapes your lips, and you tug at his curls with a mischievous grin. Gently, you guide his head so he’s lined up with your pussy, your touch both commanding and affectionate.

He doesn’t waste any time, his tongue sliding right through your slick as he moans into you.

You let out a moan so loud that he reaches up and clamps his hand over your mouth. The last thing he needs is Henry waking up and cockblocking him.

He keeps his hand over your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your sighs and whimpers against his palm. If it weren’t for his son sleeping just down the hall, he’d be urging you to let go and be as loud as you wish. Begging you to let him hear just how good he was making you feel.

Your thighs jerk, and James grips you harder, pushing you back down into the sheets. Wetness is beginning to drip down onto the sheets, and the way James sloppily licks and sucks at your cunt doesn’t help the mess. He couldn’t care less about the mess gathering on his sheets. The only thing on his mind is making you feel so good that you can’t possiblythink straight.

At the feeling of the tips of his fingers tracing along your entrance, you moan, desperately nodding your head to tell him to keep going. He listens, slipping a finger slowly into you and curling upwards. He watches transfixed as you arch your back, and he can’t decide which sight he likes more. The sight of his finger slipping into you so easily or the complete look of desperation on your face.

“God, you look so fucking pretty like this.” James hums, pressing a kiss onto your clit before glancing back up at you. Against his better judgment, he pulls his hand away from your mouth, desperate to hear the pretty noises you’re making.

He’s not at all disappointed; the way you moan his name makes him dizzy.

“Got the prettiest pussy too.” He hums, pulling his fingers away to circle your clit. When he pinches your clit you shriek, jolting at the sensation that shoots through you. Your legs are shaking, and you can feel the building hot pressure settling into your body.

James shifts, moving further up your body so that he can settle next to you. His fingers are still rubbing tight circles against your clit, and you don’t get a chance to ask what he’s doing before he’s leaning down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The sensation sends you over the edge, vision blurring into white as you’re consumed by the intense, toe-curling orgasm.Your gasp is startingly loud, so James leans down and kisses you hard, muffling your cries as you grip his bicep in one hand and the sheets in the other hand. He keeps the same pace, swirling his fingers over your pussy in the most delicious way as he works you through your orgasm. He slows his movements once he notices your breathing has evened out and your eyes have fluttered open.

“Fuck,” you sigh, your chest heaving as you look up at James with wide, glassy eyes. He smiles down at you, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips. At that moment, you’re certain he’s ruined you for any other man—though, truth be told,he did that years ago.

“You’ve got the prettiest moans I’ve ever heard.” He speaks with such sincerity that you’re certain your gaze is filled with the most lovesick adoration.

“James.” You say softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach up to gently brush the curls away from his face. Your fingertips graze his skin, lingering for a moment on his cheek as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that matches your own.

You know he’s deeply in love with you, just as you are with him.

“What, baby?”

“I want to feel you inside of me.” Your fingers reach down to grasp the waistband of his dress pants. James looks momentarily startled when he glances down and realizes he’s still wearing them. With a flurry of hurried movements, he fumbles to unbutton and shove them off, and you can’t help but giggle at the endearing clumsiness of his efforts.

You barely have time to admire how beautiful he looks before he’s positioning himself over you, his body pressing close. He cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I need to grab a cond—” James begins as he glances over at his nightstand, but you cut him off with a gentle smile, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“But there’s a chance—” He stops himself, the words catching in his throat as he swallows hard, the mere thought too overwhelming to fully process. He can’t let his mind linger on the image of you pregnant with his child; he just can’t.

“I know,” you reply, your voice steady as you give him an encouraging nod, trying to offer reassurance.

James looks so startled that you immediately worry you’ve said the wrong thing. “Please, baby,” he urges, his voice tinged with desperation, “tell me you’re being serious.”

You giggle, “I am.”

“Fuck.” He lets out a low groan, reaching down to grip his cock, dragging the tip through your folds. The sharp gasp you release makes James glance up at you.

He’s never witnessed anything so captivating. Your eyes are closed, head tilted to the side, with your swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that drives him wild.

He drags himself further down until he’s lined up with your entrance, and you let out a shaky exhale. As he pushes past your tight walls, he grits his teeth, resisting the urge to shove his hips forward and fill you in one go. But instead, he fixates on your face—the way your brows furrow in pleasure and your lips part, adjusting to the feel of his cock easing in.

“You feel so much better than I imagined, shit.” He gasps, watching the way his cock pushes past your snug entrance and sinks into you slowly. You suck him in so easily, and he swallows hard, silently begging himself to hold it together.

“Jamie, oh my god.” You moan, blindly reaching out a hand to grip his shoulder, the other gripping the sheets.

“I know, baby,” He grunts. “Almost there.” He stills for a second, needing a second to breathe. It’s been ages since he last had sex, and it doesn’t help that it’s you he’s slipping his cock into.

“Keep going, please.” It must be the tone of your voice, that soft, irresistible lilt, that drives him to surge forward as if he can’t hold back any longer. The forceful thrust tears a moan from your throat, your hand instinctively flying up to clutch his as it grips your hip with a possessive intensity. At the touch of your fingers, he instinctively twists his hand to intertwine them with yours. With a steady push, he leans over you, pressing your joined hands into the sheets.

Your eyes flutter open, slowly tracing over him, taking in every detail, before finally locking onto his gaze. He’s just so breathtakingly beautiful. His dark curls fall messily over his forehead, his lips are pink and inviting, and a deep blush colors his cheeks. You’ve never seen him like this before, so vulnerable and raw, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude that you get to witness him like this, even if it’s just this once.

A gentle kiss lands on your lips, the softness of his touch lingering for a moment. You let out a quiet sigh, your breath blending with his in a simple, shared connection. His lips remain lightly pressed against yours as he drags his cock through your pussy. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft, pleading whine escapes into his mouth.

He quickens the pace, yet it remains slow and tender, leaving you breathless and dazed. As your head tilts to the side, he seizes the moment to press gentle kisses along your shoulder, his touch soothing compared to the burn of pleasure between your thighs.

“God, I love your moans.” He mumbles, rolling his hips into yours. Being this close allows him to hear every sound you make—the soft catch of your breath, the subtle shifts in your sighs, and the faint murmurs of pleasure. Each noise is crisp and intimate, a testament to the closeness you share.

“Love your pretty lips.” He murmurs softly, his voice low and intimate, as he leans in to press his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle but insistent, and you can barely manage to reciprocate, your movements sluggish and overwhelmed. Yet he doesn’t seem to mind; his focus is entirely on making you feel good.

“Love how well you take me.” He murmurs praise with a tender, reverent tone, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The effect is immediate; you release a choked sob as his hand slides from your neck down your body. He gently slides his hand under your thigh, lifting it and securing it over his hip with a possessive yet gentle grip. The shift in position pulls you even closer and has him hitting that delicious spot that makes your mind go blissfully blank.

You’re utterly undone, and it’s all too clear in your voice. Each desperate plea of his name tumbles from your lips,mingled with breathless, disjointed words about how incredible everything feels. The raw vulnerability in your tone, the way you falter and stutter with pleasure, tells him just how close you are

“James, I—” you cry out, your voice breaking as you squeeze his hand with a desperate intensity. Your other hand weaves through his tousled curls, tugging him closer. You pull his lips to yours with an urgent, almost pleading motion, your heart racing as the warmth of his lips meet yours. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck.”

He keeps the rhythm steady, his lips lingering on your cheeks with soft, reverent kisses before moving slowly down your neck. Each kiss is deliberate and tender, a gentle exploration that sends a cascade of shivers across your skin. The warmth of his breath mingles with the sensation of his lips, heightening the intimacy of the moment and deepening the connection between you.

“Fuck, I love you.” He grits out a few strained words, his voice rough and laden with raw emotion. That simple utterance is enough to shatter your composure. In an instant, you’re undone, your body trembling and mind swirling as you surrender entirely to the intensity of the moment.

The intense feeling of you squeezing him tightly, overwhelms his senses, causing his thoughts to dissolve into a haze of pleasure. His body reacts instinctively, and without much warning, he spills into you as he helps you ride out your high. He curses under his breath, his head sinking to your shoulder, the weight of his exhaustion and satisfaction pressing against you.

It takes a moment for both of you to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts pounding in the aftermath. As you gradually come back to yourselves, he gently pulls away from your shoulder, meeting your glassy-eyed gaze with hisown. You stare at him, wide-eyed, your hair a tangled mess and mascara smudged. Despite the disheveled appearance, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Did I—” you trail off, your voice faltering as you shift your hand from his tangled curls to cradle his cheek gently. Your thumb brushes lightly against his skin, your gaze searching his face. “Did you just say you loved me?” The words come out in a soft, trembling whisper, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of hope and disbelief.

“Yes.” James admits; there’s a shake to his voice as he bites his lip nervously. The admission wasn’t meant to slip out. Instead of apologizing, he shifts his focus to the tears welling up in your eyes. Before he can process it, you lean in and kiss him fiercely, the intensity of emotions seeping through.

“Like you’re in love with me?” You ask, your voice trembling with disbelief. James offers a nervous, yet hopeful smile.

“Uh huh.” He confirms softly, his eyes reflecting a vulnerable sincerity.

“I love you. So fucking much, James Potter.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

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weixuldo · 1 year ago

Text

Who's your Daddy?

Older!James Kelly x f!reader

(SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG OMLLLL- i’ve never written anything other than starwars lol- but I hope this is enjoyable. I also havent ever written fauxscest and I wouldn't say i'm really into it, but I feel like it fits the character lowkey)

One of James' customer mistakes you for his daughter and you actually play along...James isnt thrilled

warnings: dead dove do not eat?, Fauxscest, age gap, orgasm denial, just regular schmegular smex, name calling,

________________

“Fuck Jamie!” you squealed as DILF!James Kelly harshly bent you over the old camaro that had been sitting in his shop for the past two weeks.

His strong tattooed hand had your nicely curled hair in a strong grip as he smacked your ass with the other. “You wanna act like a child so bad, then I’ll treat you like one” he said as he continued to spank you.

Earlier, James had been finishing up a job on an old Ford pickup and was negotiating payment with the owner when you skipped out from inside the shop wearing shorts and a tank top.

In James’ “office”- really just a room with a chair and desk that he’d toss papers on (or eat you out on)- he had a bowl of candy just in case a client brought around their kids. James never really knew what to do with kids, but you told him having a candy jar would make him seem less scary.

Of course he had one the next day.

But clients never really brought their kids around the shop so you got to enjoy the majority of the candy. Today you were feeling the cherry lollipop and twirled it around your mouth as you scampered out to see what James was up to.

As you walked out you saw James broad back facing you as he stood with his arms crossed towards a gruff man with gray hair. They looked like they were talking shop- how boring.

You sighed and were about to go back inside when the gray haired man noticed you.

“Kelly, you never mentioned ya had kids?”.

James was taken aback- kids?

He turned to see what the man was looking at when his icy eyes landed on your tantalizing form; it was nearly 97 degrees and humid as fuck- why the hell did you look so good?

He subconsciously licked his bottom lip before remembering the man’s comment; he turned back just about to protest when you skipped up to him and threw your arms around him.

“He’s never mentioned me?” you said with a fake pout.

“But dad- I thought you were proud of me? Why don’t you tell your friends about me?”

James was too stunned to speak- sure, you’d occasionally call him “daddy” in bed but he never thought that act would leave the bedroom. His left eye twitched as he looked down at your doe eyed expression.

“Haha- I’m sure yer Dad’s proud of ya kiddo- probably just wanted to hide you away cause you’d have all the boys riled up” the gray haired man chuckled as James fought to keep his frustration at bay.

“Is that why daddy?” you asked innocently.

James was pissed

…

and extremely turned on.

But he was really bothered that his client was obviously checking you out right in front of him. He clenched his jaw once more before straining out an answer.

“Yea thats why, sweetheart. I’d hate to have to get the shotgun out of the shed for something other than hunting” he falsely smiled.

You hugged him once more before heading back inside “Well I’ll let you two keep talking- Thanks for choosing my dad’s shop” you smiled at the man before your boyfriend.

He shot back a bright grin “Not a problem darlin’, I’ll be sure to come to yer Dad’s shop from now on haha”.

James clenched his fists at his sides, he could feel himself losing his composure.

The man finally paid James and added a little extra and told him to “buy somethin’ nice for that daughter of yer’s”.

Oh- James would definitely not be buying you something nice after the little stunt you just pulled.

“She's a looker Kelly, better keep an eye on her'' the man commented once more before hopping into his newly fixed truck.

James just nodded as he counted the money the man paid him, “Yea, i’m always lookin at her- especially when she's bouncing on my cock”.

The old man’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets; “Pardon?!”.

James finally met his eye once more with a smug look, “Yea, she’s not my daughter- that’s my girlfriend”.

The man just sat with the truck held in reverse as he tried to replay the whole interaction.

“And I’m gonna fuck her raw for that shit she just pulled- Thanks for the tip and have a nice day” he said before shoving the cash into his pocket and shutting the garage gate.

You had taken a seat at James’ desk as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. You thought it was funny to play with him like that but you didn’t think it would get him too worked up- so when you heard him call for you to come out to the garage your body buzzed with nervous excitement.

He had called your name harsher than he normally would so you could tell he was feeling some type of way but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what… were you about to be lectured, yelled at, or fucked?

Maybe all three heh

James was standing domineeringly with his feet slightly parted and arms crossed tight as you entered the garage.

“Yesss? What’s wrong Jamie” you answered innocently.

He clicked his tongue and cut his eyes, “you know damn well what you were doing”.

You pouted your pretty lips and shook your head, “I don’t really see anything wrong with joking” you said smugly.

Annnd now you’re here, bent over his camaro with him ruthlessly plunging his thick cock in and out of you.

James’ veins popped as he tugged at your hair with one hand and angled your hips up with the other. He was panting like an animal as he forcefully thrusted into you, heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit.

“Fuck, please! Jamie- Slow down!” you cried as you grounded yourself on the hood of the old car as your boyfriend hit it from the back.

“Jamie?” he questioned, squeezing your ass harder.

“James!” you managed.

He let out a low chuckle that made you even wetter than before, “you wanted to call me dad so bad earlier, what happened, doll?”.

You could hear his stupid smirk in the way he spoke, you wanted to say something but all that was coming out were pathetic whimpers and moans.

You felt him shudder as you clenched your gummy walls around his throbbing cock- “s-shit” he cursed under his breath as he slowly pulled out until just his tip was left in you.

Your eyes were already brimming with tears-but when he stopped his movements, the tears started to flow. Your poor pussy ached for him to slide between your folds- once he started, you needed him to finish.

It was almost criminal how empty you felt without your boyfriend’s dick inside of you. You began to whine the longer he held still.

“You think you’re so slick, little brat” he growled as his rough palm made contact with your bright red ass cheek for the umpteenth time.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear and you felt the cool silver of his cross chain as it slid down your arched spine.

“Who am I” he asked with a dangerous lilt to his voice.

“James” you cried again, you knew that was the wrong answer but you needed him to keep going.

Without warning he plunged into you and bottomed out as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. But just as fast as he was in, he had resumed the previous position.

“Incorrect” he said before pulling completely out.

You whimpered before he flipped you around so that you were staring at his flushed face; God he was perfect. Looking down between the two of you- his hard cock was completely coated in your combined juices and twitched as he stood over you.

He grabbed your hips and lined himself up with your aching core once more before shoving himself in with an abrupt snap of his hips. You gripped onto his forearms as you yelped.

“Who am I” he asked once more, his voice low with lust.

“D-Daddy” you cried in humiliation as you shied away from James’ watchful eyes.

He halted his movements and leaned closer to your ear, “Almost. What did you call me earlier, doll?” he said with a devious smirk.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, “...dad”.

“What was that baby? Didn’t hear ya” James taunted.

“DAD!” you wailed as you dug your nails into your older man’s forearms.

“That’s it, Sweetheart” he smiled as he quickened his pace.

You moaned as his sloppy thrusts jiggled your breasts around for Jame’s viewing pleasure. You felt your high approaching fast.

“Fuck- I”m close- I” you cried as James continued diving deeper and deeper into your sopping cunt.

James bit his bottom lip and pulled out as fast as he had been fucking you; leaving you with a disappointingly empty feeling. You gasped at the loss of his massive member and your eyes shot open to see why your boyfriend felt the need to pull out.

There he was in all of his glory; brow adorned with sweat , face flushed, brows drawn together, and lips parted. Soon you felt his warm ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach, you whimpered at the wasted seed and your lost orgasm.

He finished stroking himself with a shudder and squeezed out the rest of his spend onto you with a low groan.

“W-why?” you almost cried as your boyfriend began to clean himself off.

“Good girls wouldn’t cum from their dad’s dick-” he tossed you a towel from the hanger on the wall, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, little one”.

“Once you’ve had time to think about your actions and clean up- maybe I’ll consider letting you cum” he said before leaving you alone and empty in his dim office.

***

lol I hope you enjoyed :)

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