#I made the center gif feel free to use it

[evermoreness]

hi lovely!! i had a random idea for a fic where reader is harry’s kindergarten teacher and he lets it slip to you that single dad james thinks she’s pretty? im just imaging a little 5 year old letting that information slip like it’s the most casual thing in the world and meanwhile james is dying of embarrassment hahahha. i just thought it would be cute :)

— This idea is so cute! Thanks for sharing with me, hope you like it! @iloveremmy

secret crush | james potter

pairing: james potter x muggle!reader

summary: dad!james is definitely ready to love again after some time, he just didn't think it would be harry's kindergarten teacher.

obs: feel free to send any requests!

masterlist

The small classroom was filled with laughter, crayons, and the chaotic energy only a group of five-year-olds could create. The walls were covered in colorful drawings, some resembling actual objects and others looking more like abstract masterpieces only a parent could pretend to understand.

At the front of the room stood y/n, the most beloved teacher in the entire kindergarten. She had a natural warmth about her, making every child feel special. She was also quick-witted and funny, always finding a way to make the most mundane things exciting. Her students adored her.

And at the center of it all, sitting on one of the tiny chairs like he was some kind of prince, was Harry Potter.

Harry was an interesting child—smart, playful, and with a sass level that could rival a teenager. He had a mop of messy black hair that never seemed to stay put, big green eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a personality far too charming for a five-year-old.

He had been extra sassy today, insisting he was "way too advanced" for their ABC exercises and that "Uncle Moony reads him much harder books." You had learned by now to just nod along when Harry said bizarre things like that.

You had taken a particular liking to him. Not that you played favorites (at least, not openly), but something about Harry made you want to protect him even more than the other kids. Maybe it was the fact that he was being raised by a single dad, or maybe it was the way he always looked at you with that cheeky little grin whenever he was about to say something absurd.

Right now, that cheeky grin was in full force.

"Miss y/l/n," Harry said, swinging his legs under the table as he colored.

"Yes, love?" you replied, crouching down to his level.

He leaned in as if he was about to share the most confidential secret of his life. "My dad thinks you're pretty."

You blinked.

Oh.

Oh!

You opened your mouth to respond, but Harry, apparently very pleased with himself, continued. "He says you're too young to have this many kids"

Well, you definitely held back the laughter, but as you didn't have an answer to that, you just changed subjects. You leaned over to glance at Harry’s drawing. It was a messy but clearly heartfelt attempt at a stick figure version of himself and his dad, complete with what looked like… a broomstick?

“That’s a great drawing, Harry!” you praised, ruffling his hair. “Is that you and your dad?”

Harry nodded, proudly holding up his masterpiece. “Yeah! That’s me, and that’s Daddy, and he’s flying really fast on his broom because he’s the best at Quidditch!”

Let's say Harry Potter was a really imaginative kid. He would always say some really funny stories about witches and sometimes, he would full on create new words. Like he was just doing now. You found it cute, but little did you know that it was actually all true.

You grinned. “I bet he is.”

Harry’s little legs swung as he beamed. “Yeah! And he says he used to be the best Seeker at Hogwarts! I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

“That’s a great dream,” you said, genuinely warmed by how much Harry admired his father.

James was tall, lean, and had the same messy hair as his son. He was dressed casually, but there was something effortlessly charming about him. And then there were his eyes—warm, hazel, and currently widening in horror as he realized what his son was in the middle of saying.

"And my dad also said—oh, hey, Dad!" Harry greeted, as if he hadn’t just delivered a verbal nuke seconds before.

James, who had clearly heard enough, looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Harry," he started, his voice a little strained, "what exactly have you been telling Miss y/l/n?"

Harry, completely unfazed, gestured at his teacher. "I was just telling her how you think she's pretty."

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You found it cute how a grown man was becoming all flustered right now.

“I mean—” James rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have said something along the lines of you being… you know… a good teacher.”

Harry frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

James glared at his son. A warning look. A look that screamed drop it, drop it now, child.

Harry, of course, did not drop it.

James let out an awkward, nervous laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah, um, I don't know where he got that from—"

"You said it last night," Harry reminded him. "When you were talking to Uncle Pads and you said—"

"Okay, that's enough, kiddo!" James cut in quickly, picking up Harry like he was a sack of potatoes. His face was an interesting shade of pink now. "Time to go, say goodbye to your teacher!"

Harry, enjoying this far too much, gave you a knowing look before waving. "Bye, Miss! See you tomorrow! Oh, and it's okay! My dad only likes you a little bit."

James groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

You, to your credit, simply gave James a bright, amused smile. "It’s fine. Kids say the funniest things."

James, still trying to compose himself, let out a breath. "Yeah. They do."

You tilted your head, studying him for a second. "Though, I have to say, you do have a very smart kid. And very honest."

James gave you a sheepish smile. "Yeah… unfortunately, he gets that from his mother."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something sad, something that made you instinctively soften your tone. "She must've been wonderful."

James nodded. "Yeah. She really was."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Then, because James couldn't handle any more embarrassment today, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right. Well. We'll be going now. Before Harry decides to share my entire life story."

You grinned. "That’s probably a good idea. Have a good evening, Harry. James."

James hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "You too."

As he walked out, still carrying a smug-looking Harry, you couldn't help but shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

James Potter, huh?

This was going to be interesting.

As soon as they were outside, James crouched down and gave Harry a look of pure exasperation. “Alright, Prongslet. Why?”

Harry just grinned up at him, utterly unapologetic. “I like Miss y/n. You like Miss y/n. Uncle Padfoot said you should talk to her more. I was helping.”

James dropped his head in his hands. “You and Sirius are banned from talking to each other ever again.”

The aftermath

James Potter was dying.

Not literally—he had survived multiple Quidditch accidents, a war, and Voldemort himself—but right now, standing outside of Harry’s kindergarten classroom, he was convinced that actual death would be less painful than the secondhand embarrassment he had just experienced.

His five-year-old son, his sweet, traitorous, utterly clueless son, had just casually exposed his very real, very secret crush on Miss y/n.

He was never showing his face in that classroom again.

…Okay, that was a lie.

He’d be back tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

Because Harry loved school, and James definitely wasn’t going to pull him out just because he got caught being a pathetic twenty-five-year-old with a schoolboy crush on his kid’s teacher.

But, Merlin’s beard, how was he supposed to look you in the eyes again?

But instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, because—screw it—he wasn’t actually opposed to talking to you.

At first, James had been mortified, barely able to meet your eyes when he picked up his son. But as the days went by, he found himself lingering a little longer each time. It started small—asking how Harry was doing, if he was behaving (spoiler: he wasn’t), and if he was making friends.

But then your conversations stretched longer.

“So, uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Harry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

James nodded, trying to look serious. “Yeah. His, uh… behavior.”

You blinked, looking at Harry, who was currently playing with another student and doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“…His behavior?” you echoed.

James cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s, uh, very concerning.”

You folded your arms, clearly humoring him. “What exactly is concerning about it?”

James hesitated. “Well. You know. The talking thing.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “The talking thing?”

James sighed, knowing you weren’t buying it. “Yeah. You know. The way he just… talks. No filter. Says things. About me.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head. “James, you do realize that’s completely normal for his age, right?”

James groaned. “I was hoping you’d say there was a cure.”

You grinned. “Afraid not.”

James huffed, but there was a smile playing at his lips now. “Brilliant. Well, at least tell me—how do I make sure he doesn’t casually ruin my life every time he opens his mouth?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, but I think you’re doomed.”

James sighed dramatically. “That’s what I thought.” He glanced at Harry again, who was still happily playing, then looked back at you. “Well, I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything too bad.”

You smirked. “Oh, no, just that you think I’m really pretty and smile a lot when you talk about me.”

James groaned. “Merlin’s sake, why would you repeat it?”

You laughed. “Because it’s funny.”

James shot her a look. “For you, maybe.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Oh, come on, James. It’s not that bad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that I’m going to be forced to relocate and change my name now, right?”

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” James deadpanned. “I’ll be John Smith from now on. You’ve never met me before in your life.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “Well, John Smith, if it makes you feel any better…” you hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice softer. “I don’t mind what Harry said.”

James froze.

Your eyes were warm, teasing but also… something else.

And suddenly, James realized—maybe this wasn’t as embarrassing as he thought.

Maybe Harry had just given him the best excuse in the world to talk to the woman he’d been secretly crushing on.

And maybe—just maybe—he was okay with that.

For the first time that day, James grinned.

“Well then,” he said. “In that case, I think I can survive the humiliation.”

You chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

From that day forward, James’s routine of picking Harry up from school became a little different.

At first, he told himself he was just being polite—nothing wrong with staying an extra minute or two to talk to Harry’s teacher, right? Totally normal. Every parent did that.

Except every time, those one or two minutes stretched longer.

And longer.

Until one day, he realized he was actively looking forward to pick-up time—not just to see Harry, but because he’d get to talk to you.

Getting to know each other

James had fully intended to keep his distance after the Incident—as he now called it in his head. He had absolutely not planned to linger when picking up Harry, nor did he intend to talk to you for longer than necessary. But that's not exactly what happened since they had been talking a lot lately.

"Everything good today?" James would ask, standing at the doorway.

"Harry was a little sassy during storytime," you would say, amused. "He insisted he already knew how it ended and started narrating over me."

James sighed, rubbing his temple. "Of course, he did. Did he at least get it right?"

"Surprisingly, yes," you said. "Honestly, he’s way too smart for a five-year-old."

James smirked. "He gets it from me, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

And then, the next day…

"Harry told me today that he was going to ‘summon his broom’ to get out of naptime."

James coughed. "Uh. Kids have wild imaginations, don’t they?"

"Mhm," you said, amused. "Though, I have to say, that’s a very specific thing to imagine."

James quickly changed the subject.

And then, the next day after that...

He found himself lingering near your desk, watching Harry shove his tiny arms into his backpack with all the grace of a rampaging hippogriff.

“So,” James started, leaning against the desk, “should I be worried about his academic future, or is struggling with backpack logistics a phase?”

You grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s a phase. I think.”

James sighed dramatically. “Merlin’s sake, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I’d have to enroll him in some kind of Backpack Etiquette for Beginners course.”

You chuckled. “Well, I do give him stickers when he remembers to pack up neatly.”

James blinked. “That’s brilliant.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Bribery works wonders at this age.”

James laughed. “Noted.”

And just like that, their conversation stretched past the usual parent-teacher exchange.

James found himself not in a rush to leave.

You didn’t seem to mind.

And Harry, for once, didn’t interrupt with any more mortifying revelations.

A win for James.

A week later, James arrived earlier than usual and found you organizing a small shelf of children’s books.

“Expanding their literary horizons?” he asked, stepping closer.

You looked up, smiling. “Trying to. Some of them are still convinced books are just really boring building blocks.”

James smirked. “Ah, yes. The tragic underappreciation of literature.”

You chuckled. “Exactly.” you tilted your head. “Did you like reading when you were a kid?”

James shrugged. “I liked it. But I wasn’t the sit-quietly-and-read type. That was Remus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Remus?”

“My best mate,” James explained. “Loves books. Absolute nightmare when you try to pull him away from one.”

You grinned. “Sounds like the kind of student I’d love to have.”

“Oh, absolutely,” James said. “Meanwhile, I was the kid causing problems in the back of the class.”

You pretended to gasp. “You? Causing trouble? I would never have guessed.”

James smirked. “Shocking, I know.”

You fell into easy conversation after that, sharing stories about school, books, and the different kinds of students you had over the years.

James barely noticed the time passing.

Neither did you.

"Alright, I have to ask," you said one day, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway. "What’s up with Harry and the ‘Uncles’?"

James blinked. "What do you mean?"

"He talks about Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony constantly," you said. "Are they even real people?" you said, knowing that those names were definitely not usual. Maybe they were imaginary friends.

James tried not to laugh, he couldn't explain it to you in a detailed way, you were a Muggle after all. "Padfoot and Moony are my best mates. They are very real. It's just their nicknames. Padfoot is Sirius, Moony is Remus."

You smiled, trying to understand why they were even called that. "I swear, sometimes Harry sounds like a tiny old man when he quotes them."

James laughed. "That… yeah, that tracks. They’ve been around his whole life."

You smirked. "So, which one gives the worst advice?"

"Oh, definitely Sirius," James said immediately. "He told Harry once that he could read his mind and my poor kid spent the rest of the week scared to think"

You burst out laughing. "That’s terrible!"

"I know!" James said, grinning. "Remus had to be the voice of reason that day, convincing Harry that his uncle couldn't read his mind"

The small talk everyday was becoming a habit.

James would ask about your day, and you would roll your eyes and dramatically recount whatever chaos had ensued in your classroom—kids throwing crayons, glue disasters, the occasional crying over absolutely nothing. You were expressive, funny, and had this energy that James found… comforting.

You, in turn, asked about James—not just about Harry but about him. His work, his hobbies, things he liked. And James found himself telling you, actually enjoying your chats instead of awkwardly stumbling over his words like he thought he would.

But, of course, Harry noticed.

"Dad," Harry groaned one afternoon as James leaned against the classroom doorway, chatting away with you while other parents picked up their kids. "You’re doing it again."

James blinked down at his son. "Doing what, Prongslet?"

Harry huffed dramatically, grabbing his tiny backpack. "Talking and talking and talking."

You burst into laughter. "Oh no, Potter, you’ve been caught."

James narrowed his eyes at his son. "Maybe I like talking to your teacher, kiddo."

Harry groaned even louder, stomping toward the door. "Ugh, come on! We're always the last ones now!"

You laughed, nudging Harry’s nose playfully. "Oh, come on, am I that bad?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "No, but Daddy talks to you too much."

James cleared his throat. "Well, I just—y’know—parent stuff. Making sure you’re doing okay."

Harry squinted at him. "Uh-huh. Sure, Dad."

You smirked. "Guess I must be very interesting, huh?"

James ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Uh… yeah. I mean, no—I mean—"

You just chuckled and waved at Harry. "See you tomorrow, little tornado."

Harry grumbled something under his breath about adults being annoying and led the way out.

James followed, but not before sneaking one last glance at you.

Getting some advice (from the professionals)

By the time a couple of weeks had passed, James knew he had to do something.

Because this? This standing-in-the-doorway-every-day-for-way-too-long thing? This was not normal behavior. He wasn’t just talking to you about Harry anymore. He liked talking to you, period.

And that? That was terrifying.

You were the first person he’d felt anything for since Lily. It wasn’t the same—Lily had been his great, big, all-consuming love. But you? You were warmth, laughter, easy conversations, and teasing smiles. And that was something.

Which meant he was going to do the scariest thing he’d done since facing off against Voldemort.

He was going to ask you out.

Sirius and Remus, of course, had opinions.

"You just gotta charm her, Prongs," Sirius said confidently, lounging on James' couch. "Lay it on thick—tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, maybe throw in a ‘your eyes shine brighter than the stars’—"

Remus snorted from his chair. "Yes, James. Do that. That definitely won’t make her think you’re a lunatic."

Sirius furrowed his brows at his boyfriend "Hey! I think it worked wonders when i charmed you to like me"

Remus gave him a look "When did exactly you charmed me, pads?"

Sirius was quick to answer "Second year, of course, and it worked!"

Remus was trying not to laugh "Do you actually know that it didn't work, i just liked you back?"

Before Sirius could even snap back, his face surprised, James groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don’t need to charm her. I just… need to not make a fool of myself."

Sirius smirked. "Well, that’s impossible. But, hey, shoot your shot."

James was pacing his living room, gripping his hair. "I can’t do it. I can’t do it."

Sirius was looking deeply amused. "You, the James Potter, too scared to ask a woman out? This is history in the making."

Remus, sitting in an armchair, gave a long-suffering sigh. "James, it’s just coffee."

"Just coffee? Moony, I haven’t dated since Lily!" James threw his hands up. "What if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a terrible father for even thinking about dating?"

"Mate," Sirius said, sitting up. "I promise you, the last thing she’s thinking is that you’re a terrible father. She likes you."

James scoffed. "She doesn’t like me."

Sirius smirked. "Oh, yeah? Then why does she always smile at you? And laugh at your terrible dad jokes? And talk to you for an eternity?"

"That’s just—she’s nice!" James insisted.

Remus gave him a knowing look. "James. Just ask her."

James groaned. "Fine. But if I make an idiot of myself, I’m blaming both of you."

He was really going to ask you out.

Taking actions

It was a Friday afternoon. James had spent the entire day hyping himself up. This was it. No more standing around like an idiot. No more pretending he was just talking about Harry.

He was going to ask you out. Casually. Coolly. Like a totally normal, smooth person.

(He was absolutely not smooth.)

"Hey, y/n," James started as he leaned on the doorway of the classroom, trying to look relaxed.

You, who was organizing a chaotic pile of paper, looked up and smiled. "Hey, Potter. You’re right on time for the usual end-of-the-day complaints from your son."

Harry, currently sulking with his backpack, threw up his hands. "They played ring around the rosie today! Do you know how boring that is?!"

You laughed. "What, not exciting enough for you?"

"No!"

James smirked. "That’s tragic, mate."

Harry crossed his arms. "Can we go now or are you gonna talk for twenty years again?"

James cleared his throat. Now or never.

"Actually," he said, looking at you, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime."

You blinked. "What?"

James internally panicked. "Casual coffee. Like—like two people, drinking coffee, talking, existing in the same space—"

You raised an amused eyebrow. "Are you asking me out?"

James wanted to die. "I—I mean—yeah? But, like, you don’t have to—"

You grinned. "James."

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

"I’d love to."

James froze. "Wait. What?"

You smirked. "I said yes, Potter. You good?"

James stared at you, processing, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh. Well. That’s… good. That’s great. That’s—"

Harry groaned. "Finally!"

James turned to him. "Oh, what now?!"

Harry threw his hands up. "It took you forever to ask her! I thought you were never gonna do it!"

You laughed. "Seriously?"

James groaned. "Can’t anything be a secret in this family?"

You just smirked. "Apparently not."

James, still grinning, nodded. "Alright then. Coffee it is."

And for the first time in a long time, James felt something that wasn’t just surviving. He felt happy.

[hyuny-bunny]

｡⋆˚under the stars ｡⋆˚｡⋆. LK + HH

pairing: hyunho x fem!reader, hyunjin x reader, lee know x reader,

synopsis: camping with 9 people, 4 tents leaves you stuck with sharing a tent and bed with minho + hyunjin who fight for your attention

MNDI 18+: somnophilia, implied consent, thigh riding, kissing, groping, masturbation, fem!reader

part ii

---

you can't recall to anyone raising questions at the wise idea it was to plan a trip with nine people without any consideration for the sleeping arrangements. of course there was gonna be some sacrifices made considering their couldn't possibly be 9 tents available for you each to have your own space and yet you were still shocked to find only 4 tents.

minho had the made the suggestion to organize a camping trip now that you all had an upcoming week of a completely free schedule. it wasn't often you had this so who were any of you to object ? it would start as early as 4am, rounding everyone into the rental van, an ungodly amount of luggage, and 8 unruly passengers who would be bouncing off the walls once 6am rolled around. the first few hours were quite, chan was driving and minho as the designated passenger princess offering directions and company as the only other person awake at 4am.

i'm the rows of seats behind were jisung who had already found the perfect angle to his pillow pressed against the window with drool slipping past his lips. felix also laid against changbins shoulder in a similar manner, opting to use his bicep as a make shift pillow. seungmin had his head tilted back against the seat and every so often waking up like a puppy fighting sleep. jeongin stayed leaned against the window watching the passing trees and rain droplets shower the window, once he was woken up he found it hard to sleep.

then there was you, directly behind the drivers seat with your own princess sleeping on your lap. hyunjin complained that if he slept on your shoulder, it'd cramp his neck too badly to sleep. so he spread himself out across 3 seats (yours included. it was only a matter of minutes it took for him to fall asleep aided by your hands running through his hair.

minho would glance back at every so often before giving you his cat-like grin then gesturing you hit hyunjin awake, forcing you to stifle a laugh. finally arriving to the camp grounds, you were fortunate enough to find minho had found a camp ground with luxury style tenting. all the tents had been set up perfectly, cutting out the labor of setting it up yourself. along with the tents were a plethora of chairs, a man made pit for fire, along with any other necessary camping amenities for cooking and survival. it was tucked away from the roads and next to a gorgeous lake with a breath taking view.

as everyone is unloading the bags from the car, it becomes apparent that the next standing conflict is the sleeping situation. you all stand in the center, surrounded by the 4 tents while everyone argues about who has first dibs and who has to sleep with who. eventually chan is directing seungmin and jeongin to one tent, felix and changbin to another, then the dilemma. the five you stand there staring at one another.

".... i think maybe we should give her own tent?" chan is the first to speak.

"hyung you want us to dog pile in one tent with 4 of us on one bed?" jisung turns to him with his arms crossed.

"i really don't mind sharing it's just-" you begin to say but end up cut off by two voices.

"i'll do it" "i'll do it"

your turn to find hyunjin and minho staring each other down, both surprised to hear the other offer to bunk with you.

"i think she can decide for herself who she wants to sleep with- i mean ! not sleep with but share SHARE i mean share." chan speaks up flustered as jisung laughs with a shaking head.

you feel your face growing warm with the way minho and hyunjin stare down at you, ironic given how the cold wind nips at your face.

"i uh... let me see how big the room is first." you say making a bee line for the tent furthest from. you can hear hyunjin and minho muttering something to each other when you brush past them.

you take a peak inside noting the bed size, the makeshift air mattress couch. you could sleep on that right ? they can have the bed and you could have the couch. you put your bag down on the outside portion, adjusting your scarf as you approach them. jisung had already taken his bag to the other tent, deciding his input was no longer needed by whatever decision you made.

"there's a blow up couch inside, i can sleep on that and they can take the bed so..."

"you're not sleeping on the couch? minho can sleep on the couch." hyunjin slaps minho's shoulder as he says while the person in question shoots him a death glare.

"are you sure you want those two in your tent? i'm sure one of them wouldn't mind sleeping in the tent with ji and me-"

"i'll sleep on the couch! really it's no problem." you interrupt chan's objection.

you couldn't say refuse either minho or hyunjin sharing the tent. part of you wanted to bunk with both of them, another part of you took comfort in not sleeping alone. you waived chan off saying it would be okay and watched hyunjin grab his bag bolting for the tent. chan reassured that if you wanted to kick one of them out, he'd gladly help.

minho looked at you asking you if you were really sure but you reassured him that it would be alright.

"you're still not sleeping on that couch, i'll drag hyunjin out by his hair if i have to make you sleep on the bed."

"i really don't think that'll be necessary."

"i beg to differ."

the two of you walked towards the tent to find hyunjin splayed out across the bed in a starfish position staring back gleefully. he leans off the bed to grab your wrist when you approach the night stand to plug in a charger.

"you'll keep me warm tonight?" hyunjin ask's in a flirty tone but is only met with a pillow minho has swatted at him.

--

the lake was too cold to swim in but you and felix rolled up the ankles of your pants to dip just your feet in the water. the two of you collected pretty rocks before venturing off to find some twigs and branches to help start the fire for later tonight. minho being the vetted camper, had assembled and prepped everything for the barbecue. hyunjin sat perched on a rock enjoying the view of the lake and mountains surrounding. he had brought a retro camera, capturing some pictures and videos of you and felix sword fighting with twigs before seungmin killed the fun deciding to chase you with a muddy stick.

as night time approached, felix and you felt it would be best to step away from the lake, bundle up as the wind blew colder then before. for as isolated as the camp grounds was, this truly was more luxurious then most hotels. after a quick and very cold shower out door, you headed back to the tent to retrieve any and all heat that had left your body. layered in clothes sitting on the couch trying to warm up just the slightest before making the 10 ft journey to sit by the fire. minho came in taking in your shivering appearance.

"just a little cold?" he half laughs while looking in concern, you were already wearing sweats, a tank top, a long sleeve thermal, thick fluffy socks, a beanie, and the warmest/thickest sherpa jacket you owned.

"why does it look like it?" you ask through shivers. he's rummaging through a bag, he stops and pulls out a black knit sweater, extending his arm out to you.

"here, put this on." he says waiting for you to take it.

"i'm fine, ill warm up in a bit."

"please, just put it on. you're making me cold just by watching you shiver."

"but what about you? aren't you gonna be cold-" you're cut off by him walking over to you and kneeling in front. without missing a beat he pushes your jacket off the shoulders and is already bringing the open down on your head. he helps you put your arms through before pulling your hair out from the opening to readjust it.

your flustered at the gesture and truly speechless. minho had always been caring and really shows it in his actions so why should this be any less of surprise? he'd given you his jackets before when you were cold but this gesture felt more personal, romantic even. whatever it was, it made your heart swoon and your cheeks pink with blush. even as he fixes the loose hairs flying your face all you can focus on his the feel of his finger tips brushing against your face.

"better?" he asks, his eyes bore into yours before flickering down to your lips.

"yes. a lot better, thank you." you don't miss the way his ears are turning red, you can feel his breath fanning against you. fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him on the lips just for being so sweet. his hair falls over his eyes bit, you push a strand back with a feather touch that his him leaning into your hand. your hand stops momentarily on his cheek.

"what is taking so long ? i'm hungr-" the sound of hyunjin's voice cause you both to jump back a bit.

minho scrambling to his feet to grab his other jacket and head towards the entrance hyunjin stands at. you head feels dizzy at what happened, thinking about how you should've just kissed him. it's when hyunjin walks into your line of vision pull you both literally and metaphorically out of your thoughts.

"jagi sit with me! jeongin won't let me hug him so you're going to."

you don't have time to object before hyunjin has already pulled you down with him into the rocking chair loveseat. to anyone who didn't know you're friendship with hyunjin, you would've looked like a couple with the way his arm is thrown around you and pulling your legs to rest on top of his giving the ability to rock you both back and forth under the blanket. for as long as you had known hyunjin, he'd always been like this. he loved to hug, cuddle, and hold you but i guess there was no alarm bells to be rung when you noticed he didn't hold any of his other friends that were girls like this. it was clearly platonic and he felt comfortable, right?

minho and chan were grilling, you basked in the warmth of sitting next to hyunjin in the blanket. every once in a while you were reminded by the the fact that you were wearing minho's sweater since his cologne seemed to seep into the threads of the sweater. it smelled heavenly, his cologne was vanilla mixed with sweet tobacco but mixed with his own musk had your chest feeling like butterflies swarming where your heart should be. hyunjin so close to you didn't help either since he always smelled of florals and now the breeze of pine wrapped you in comfort, a state of melancholy. your nose twitched at the smell of the bbq, hyunjin clocked it giggling saying you looked like a bunny.

he retrieves a plate for you to both share and demands you feed him. his arms wrapped around your waist under the blanket, you take notice of the way minho stares down hyunjin with every bite you feed the drama queen, he only offers a smug smirk to minho. you spend some time around the fire talking, laughing, that is until seungmin decides now is the best time to start telling scary stories. unfortunately, as tough as you are about scary stories, you can't help the growing paranoia at every branch snap or twig snap. you're so engulfed in seungmins story you don't notice jisung has disappeared and is now currently crouched behind the love seat waiting to scare you.

you scream louder then you could've possibly anticipated when jisung grabs your shoulders from behind growling. hyunjin screams too pulling you closer, everyone else folds over in laughter. it only takes a moment for you to move out of hyunjins grip to chase jisung around the fire with a shoe in hand. you're only stopped by minho lifting you off your feet to keep you from further charging at jisung.

--

as the fire burns lowly, everyone begins to make their way to the beds for the night. hyunjin and minho stand outside the tent to give you privacy while you change your clothes to sleep. you shed the layers keeping a tank top, minhos sweater and boxer briefs on. no matter how cold it was you could never sleep in pants or too many layers. they both make their way back into the tent noticing you attempted to make a bed out of the couch.

"....at least let hyunjin take the couch." minho says as you turn to find them both standing in shorts and t shirts.

"i promise ill be fine to sleep on the couch."

"just sleep in the bed with us?" hyunjin says, you both turn to him. he has a look on his face that says 'isn't this the obvious option?'.

"w-wouldn't it just be uncomfortable for you two ?" you ask. the thought crossed your mind but didn't want to be too forward, you had slept next to hyunjin like this before but it would be a new thing to sleep like this with minho let alone with the both of them.

"ahh its fine. besides minho can sleep in the middle." this earns hyunjin another death glare. so it was settled. no one was sleeping on the couch and you'd be sleeping between them ? it's fine it was only gonna be for a few nights. what could possibly happen?

you slept on your side, back towards hyunjin and facing minho who laid face up. it was a bit of stirring before you felt yourself drift. hyunjin had threw his arm around your waist and minho eventually turned to his side, you were too deep in sleep to have even noticed how close you had all been squished to gather. you hadn't even noticed that minhos thigh had pushed up against you between your legs and your own between his.

the room was peacefully quite with the only sound coming from the nearby lake and crickets tucked away in the grass. minho was a light sleeper so when he heard soft whimpers coming from you, he barely peeked his eyes open. your face was a bit scrunched but nothing to worry. he took a moment to take in how beautiful you looked with moon light barely peaking in, he could just make out the features of face in the darkness. he did notice hyunjins hand on you waist had made its way under your (his) sweater just laid atop over the curve your waist on top of the tank top.

as minho begins to reach over to remove hyunjin's hand, you stir a bit letting a louder whimper fall past your lips. he's afraid he's woken you up in his attempt to pry the hands of the other off you but when he feels movement below, he realizes that your legs are interlocked. minho is about to shift when he feels your hips moving around again but this time he feels it on his thigh.

minho looks down to find that you're practicing straddling his thigh at this point. he knows if he wakes you up, you'd just feel embarrassed. he should stop you but how can he when all he can do is focus on the way your hips are subtly shifting for friction against his thigh. the same thighs he caught you drooling over on far too many occasions for him not have fantasized what dirty things must've run through your head, surely enough this very moment of you grinding your cunt against his thigh was one of them.

your whimpers are becoming more erratic with every move, he feels himself growing harder with every brush of your own thigh pressing up against his strained cock. he tried to close his eyes like he was sleeping convinced this had to be a dream. his eyes shoot open when he hears a grunt that clearly isn't yours. he finds hyunjin now pressed closer to you then before and his hand have moved from the curve of your waist to groping your tit.

hyunjin was not the heaviest sleeper so enough movement could wake him up. he tried not to lay so closely to your back as the way you slept made it nearly impossible for his own hard on to stay at bay. as he fell into a wonderful sleep, he dreamt of you. of laying closely pressed to your backside and rutting himself against while you cried out his name. when he woke to hear your actual whimpers, it turned out that his dream state began to seep into reality as he had been grinding himself into you from behind with his hand groping your covered chest. this was wrong he should stop while he still can but clearly his dreamlike state hadn't left him just yet as he kept grinding his hard cock into your bottom pulling himself closer to be flush against you.

your boob felt so soft and warm under his hand even on top of the knit sweater. hyunjin's eyes shot open when he heard your gasp. he couldn't see it but your eyes were shot open wide at the realization you had been grinding against minho's thigh, he was already staring back at you with a pained expression. your hand was clutching the fabric of minhos shirt as your movements had stopped but there was no denying the reality of the situation. the fact that you had been grinding so hard against minho's thigh, his shorts had risen up and your owner brief shorts did nothing to hide the seeping wet spot.

"minho, i-"

now wasn't the time for explainations or apologies as minho quickly decided that would be a conversation for later, stopping your sentence to kiss you. his lips were soft against yours but his kiss was anything but. unlike you, hyunjin hadn't stopped his own movements. he continued to grind against you, moving his hands under the sweater, warm soft skin against his hand as he made his way back up to your chest and pressing his forehead against your shoulder. minho held your hips in place while scooting himself closer without breaking the kiss. your hand stayed clutching the fabric of his shirt as he pressed his thigh firm against your drenched cunt and ruined panties. he slipped his tongue past your lips rewarding himself with your moans and soft cries.

as you pull back from the kiss momentarily, the reality that hyunjin had been egging this moment on hits you as you realize his hand his fondling your chest. the moment you pull back from your kiss with minho, you take in how red his lips look even in the darkness, eyes twinkling with need. its only split second before you feel hyunjin's hand pushing you back into him and his own face coming into view, lips crashing down against yours. he's quick to pinch your nipple that has you gasping, he takes the opportunity to slip his own tongue against yours and drinking in your whimpers. minho is locked into the feeling of your continued movements down below, he almost doesn't notice your hand traveling down his abdomen to his crotch. his cock is straining hard against his shorts, helping you he guides your hand to lay just on top of the fabric outlined cock where you take no time to begin stroking him over the fabric.

hyunjin pulls back from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips still, his attaches his lips to your neck sucking a hickey right below your ear as he feels desperate to for relief. he's picking up his pace rutting against your ass while minho goes back to guiding your hips. your cries are becoming louder as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach, your orgasm feels like wave about to crash down. you reach behind to hyunjin who his more than happy to slide your hand into his shorts guiding you to stroke him. you return the favor to minho sliding your hands down the front of his shorts earning a groan from the two of them.

blissed out on the feeling of your hand wrapped around their lengths, stroking them to their own orgasm. it only take a few strokes before their both spilling into the their shorts and painting your hands white with their cum. they both work quick to pushing you onto your back. hyunjin pulling your thighs apart and minho pushing your sweater up and over your chest. hyunjin makes good use of his fingers skidding them into the briefs gathering your slick on his fingers giving your clit a few circles before plunging one into your hole. your so warm and tight, it's everything he has ever dreamed of. his fingers are long, perfectly reaching the wet spongey spot inside that has your toes curling and crying out for more. minho on the other hand has one of your tits firmly in his grasps, massaging the warm flesh in his hand while his mouth latches on the other. he's not satisfied until your nipple has pebbled in his mouth before moving onto the next. once satisfied with their state he blows air onto them making you shiver and arch back in pleasure. he leaves a few hickeys across the top's of your breasts as to leave his mark behind, of course hyunjin shouldn't be the only one allowed to leave his mark. your orgasm is quickly approaching as hyunjin moves the heel of his palm against your clit and thrusting his finger even faster against your g spot. minho moves quick to kiss you again, capturing all your cries and moans against him as to save the rest of you from being caught by the others. your orgasm hits your hard as your legs stretch and toes curl against the mattress, body twitching as you cum down from the feeling and hyunjin's fingers ride you out through the orgasm almost leaving you too sensitive to touch.

so there the three of you laid out tired, wet, and messy. your briefs are ruined with your wetness, the other's shorts spoiled by their own cum. no one loves just laying in the silence, soft panting and small groans. minho looks over at you to find you've already drifted off to sleep, hyunjin picks up his head from the other side of you. he makes sure minho watches him bring his fingers up to his mouth before sucking and dragging them out with a quite sucking noise.

minho taking the high ground decides to ignore it to the best of his abilities getting up to change his soiled shorts, hyunjin follows suit to do the same. right as their slipping back into the bed with you centered. minho swiftly scoops the blanket and you to lay against him once more before shooting hyunjin a cocky grin.

this would only be the first mark of a very long weekend sharing a tent and bed with these two...

------

part ii

[lowkeyerror]

Congrats on Your Divorce

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus

Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.

An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.

Masterlist

You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.

Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.

She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.

When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.

“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.

“What are you talking about?”

They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”

You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.

“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.

She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”

It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.

“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”

She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”

You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."

She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”

You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”

“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.

“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.

“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.

You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”

She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”

Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.

She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”

You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”

Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”

“Sounds perfect.”

From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.

The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.

You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.

“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”

She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”

She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.

Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.

You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.

You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.

You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.

“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.

“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.

“It’s drowsy.”

You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”

You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”

“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”

You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.

Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.

“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.

“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”

Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”

You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”

“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.

“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.

Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”

You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”

That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”

While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.

“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."

The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.

“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.

“Are you sure? I can help-"

You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.

“I’ve got it.”

She listens to your directions and takes a seat

She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.

“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”

You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”

She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”

Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.

“Do you like children, Y/n?”

“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”

Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”

You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”

Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”

You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”

Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language, there are children present.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."

“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.

“It smells delicious.”

You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life

“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.

She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.

“I hope the boys think so too.”

Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”

True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.

It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.

When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.

She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.

“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.

“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.

Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”

You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”

“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.

You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.

“Oh really?”

She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.

“And if they were?”

“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.

You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d like that.”

That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.

Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"

You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”

You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."

From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.

Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.

You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.

It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.

At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.

The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”

She looks up, “Yes, detka.”

“How attached are you to your house?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”

Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”

You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”

“You want to buy a house?”

You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”

Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”

“Really?”

Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”

“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.

You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.

“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.

She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.

Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.

You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.

“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.

Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.

“ I need you,” she whispers.

You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.

You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.

“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.

You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.

You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.

“All for me baby?”

You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”

“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.

She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.

Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.

“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.

You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.

Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.

You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.

“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.

She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”

You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”

Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.

Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.

“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”

You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”

Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.

“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.

“Wanda-"

She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”

Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.

There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.

Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”

[alg3a]

hellooo your smuts brought me back from the grave and if you’re taking any requests, i would love to see your take on a jayce x fem reader. i kind of want to see a shy student scenario with a pervy student jayce 😩 omg pls tell me you see the vision lol!

hello! YESSS i definitely see the vision, i hope i executed it alright! thank you so much for this request. i was sort of worried at first because i don’t typically write for jayce alone—normally i just write jayvik or viktor—but this was SOOOO much fun! probably actually my favorite of the three fics i have so far. hope you enjoy!

staring

pervy!jayce x innocent!f!reader

3.9k, MDNI, no use of y/n

description: After setting eyes on the handsome boy in your lecture, and staring at him every class after that, you find out that your father has sponsored his research and invited him to dinner. After a particularly frustrating meal, you run upstairs to your room, not expecting him to follow you.

warnings: nsfw, fem receiving oral, pervy jayce, innocent/inexperienced reader, sneaky sex, equal bits plot and porn i think, jayce covers readers mouth, creampie, hooray!

a/n: this is my first ever request! i hope i did it some justice. if you like it, feel free to send your own request! i don’t have guidelines yet, but chances are i’ll writer whatever you suggest.

The first time you saw him was across the circular lecture hall and you were quickly drawn in, fixated on every tiny movement of his. You didn’t even notice that you were staring until you realized he caught you. It was near impossible not to look at him, with his wide ambitious eyes and even wider shoulders, he was a difficult sight to steer away from. That didn’t make it any less embarrassing when he noticed your lingering gaze.

The position he caught you in was so juvenile and schoolgirl-esque that it seemed only fitting for a bright pink blush to span your face. You had a palm against your cheek, your head slightly tilted, and your bottom lip was caught between your front teeth. Your right leg crossed your leg and the suspended foot swung in tiny little distracted circles below your desk.

When his eyes landed on yours, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. Not out of anger, more like he was trying to focus his gaze on you to see whether or not you were really staring at him. Then a little smile crept onto his lips around the same time you had realized that he had caught you and you instantly averted your gaze. You tried not to look at him again during lecture, but whenever the professor in the center of the circular lecture hall crossed in front of him, your eyes stayed behind and you allowed yourself a glance in his direction.

You wondered how you hadn’t noticed him before. Perhaps this was the first time he sat in that spot so far this semester. If that was the case, it certainly wasn’t the last time he sat there. For the next few weeks, he was amongst the first students to arrive in lecture and always made sure to secure that exact same seat, not one to the left, right, or above. You’d never seen anybody be so particular about a seat in lecture before. Not even you, who had a penchant for patterns and regulation.

Each passing class only stoked your burning obsession with this boy, whose name you didn’t even know. It got so bad that you had difficulty paying attention in class some days, which was totally unlike you. You were a perfect student, always dedicated and responsible in school, so why now? Why this one pretty boy in one silly lecture?

Your father wasn’t happy when you let him know you received a C on your midterm.

You came from an upper house in Piltover and you were your parents’ only daughter. There was an absurd amount of pressure on you to uphold the standards so eloquently listed by your older siblings and your parents.

“How will it affect your class grade?” Your mother asks sensibly, her voice low and polite and she sets out her favorite dishes from the china cabinet.

“Well, it’s not good,” you begin to say, ready to explain how what really matters is your final project and the final assessment, how they’re weighted more heavily, but your father interrupts.

“Not good?” He chortles, spread out in his armchair the room over. “Abhorrent is more like it!”

“Dad,” you begin to plead, but you are once again interrupted.

“Enough! I’ll look into a tutor and you will spend your time studying and asking your professor for extra credit.”

You hated when he did this. You weren’t a kid anymore, if you wanted a tutor you’d ask a classmate or a TA, and you had read your syllabus enough to know that your professor didn’t afford extra credit to his students. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself in school…or at least that’s what you thought. After all, if a silly crush on a stranger in lecture was enough to tank your grades, were you really all that capable?

You could’ve argued with your dad, but decided against it. It was almost time for dinner and you didn’t want to ruin your appetite with a fight.

“Go get dressed, dear, we’re having a guest for dinner tonight,” your mother said, changing the tone of the conversation.

“Who?” You asked, realizing that she was taking the good china out for a reason.

“One of the students that your father has decided to sponsor.”

Oh, that’s right. The academy just had their Innovation Gala, in which the young inventors of Piltover are given the opportunity to wow rich folks with their ideas in hopes of receiving some funding. Your father had been extending his fortune to students since you were very young. He saw them more as business opportunities than as students.

“Well, who are they?”

“A bright young man,” your father said, his mood instantly lightening. “Lots of promise. A grade or two above you, I believe.”

You think of the inventors you’ve met at the academy as you go upstairs to your bedroom to change, wondering who the guest will be.

You slip into a knee-length powder blue dress and a soft white sweater. You’re brushing your hair when you hear the doorbell ring from downstairs. Muffled exchanges between your parents and the mystery guest pass through your closed bedroom door. You’re applying your lipgloss and staring into your vanity when your mind begins to wander. You can’t get your mind off of the boy from lecture. Would he like this shade of lipgloss? Would he like your dress, your sweater, your shoes, your hair…

Your father shouts your name from downstairs. “Come down, it’s time for dinner!”

You sheath your lipgloss and straighten out your dress before heading downstairs. You're halfway down the spiral staircase before you can see tonight’s guest, and when you do, you aren’t sure you have enough strength in your legs to keep walking down.

He calls your name again, this time wearing a smile on his mouth. Your father had a tendency to turn into a jovial old man when around people that weren’t you or your family.

“Come, meet Jayce,” he says, his arm wrapped around the boy from your lecture.

You only realize how hard you're gripping the railing once you reach the bottom of the stairs. You force a polite smile past your agape expression and walk toward your father and the boy. Your father is by no means a short man, but the boy towers over him. It’s impossible not to pay attention to how his dress shirt clings to his chest, or how the collar wraps neatly around his strong neck, leaving a glimpse of his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you hold out your hand and he takes it, gingerly. He brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it softly as his eyes remain on yours.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, shooting a flaming arrow straight through your thudding heart. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but we have a class together, don’t we?”

Wonderful. Not only would you have to play polite with this handsome stranger, you’d have to endure the rest of the night knowing he’d caught you staring at him with bright doe eyes in the middle of class. How ironic that the boy responsible for your sinking grades would be seated beside your father tonight at dinner.

“Oh, I think you’re right,” you smile, eyes widening in feigned surprise. “Applied physics?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” he says, finally releasing your hand just as it’s about to get clammy from your excitement and anxiety. He claps your father on the back. “Your daughter is a marvel in that class, really. She’s constantly answering questions and asking even more insightful ones.”

A lie? Why?

“Is that so?” Your father asks, seemingly forgetting his prior rage at your subpar grade.

Jayce nods as your father leads you all to the dining room, where your two older brothers are already sitting. Your father takes his seat at the head of the table, your mother at the opposite end. You sit between him and Jayce, across from your brothers.

For a while, Jayce spends some time introducing himself to the two boys across from you, entertaining their small talk and questions about whatever invention sparked our father’s interest at the gala. You couldn’t focus much on the details, too distracted by the fact that your lecture crush was seated beside you in your own home, at the dinner table you’ve been eating at for twenty years. He spoke so eloquently, so politely that you thought for a second that he might have overlooked your embarrassing moment in lecture so many days ago. Perhaps it hadn’t lived in his head the same way it had haunted you.

The maids brought out the food and you began to eat. You sipped on champagne and did your best to avert your gaze from Jayce, but he got in the way of that attempt.

“So tell me,” he said, turning his attention to you, “how do you like physics?”

How did you like physics? What sort of a question was that?

“It’s a good class,” you say, simply. “I like the professor’s lecture style, it’s very…personal. I detest professors who just read from the notes and expect it to resonate.”

“Right, I’ve noticed how closely you pay attention in that class.”

It takes every ounce of self-collection you have not to choke on your champagne. Was he teasing you? Was that his way of secretly calling you out for ogling at him for every minute of the hour-long lecture?

No, you must be paranoid. Maybe he really meant it, after all he had already oversold your attentiveness in that class once tonight.

“Yes, right.”

“Truly,” he says, and you risk looking over at him beside you. “You look so enamored. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were daydreaming…lost in fantasies.”

You set your glass down with a slam.

“Mind your manners, darling,” your mother says as you collect your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you say shakily, dabbing at the splattered drink on the tablecloth with your napkin.

You hurry to finish your meal as your father changes the subject, discussing some stupid business matter of his. You can’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart in its cage. Once your dish is empty, you set your utensils down and look pointedly at your father.

“May I be excused?”

“Sweetheart, don’t be rude,” he says, his eyebrows straightening into a firm line. “We have a guest.”

“Oh, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that…I have an assignment to work on and I really don’t want my grades to slip any further.” You lie, avoiding Jayce’s eyes, although you feel them boring into the back of your head as you look at your father.

“Very well,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “You may be excused.”

You slam your napkin on the table and walk hurriedly up the stairs. You shut your door with a slam louder than you meant, but you can’t concern yourself with that now. You lay face down in your four-post bed and throw the sweater off of your arms before screaming into a pillow.

Cruel! He was just being cruel. If your staring in class hadn’t made your crush obvious, surely your behavior tonight had sold you out. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You groan out into the pillow before a slight creak of your door snaps you out of your fit.

You turn over, expecting to see your father and already thinking of ways to explain your current exasperated position, but it’s not him.

“What are you doing in my room?” You ask, coming to a seated position with your legs bent ever so slightly atop your ivory comforter.

“You mean, this isn’t the restroom?” Jayce asks, a small smirk on his mouth as he walks slowly toward you like a predator about to pounce. “I guess I didn’t follow your mother’s directions very well.”

“What are you doing?” You ask again.

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Cute room.” He looks around for a moment before his gaze falls back on you, lying so delicately on your bed, just waiting… “Pretty close to what I imagined.”

“What you imagined?” You repeat, seemingly only able to ask questions right now.

“Mhm,” he says, finally reaching the edge of your bed. He stands over you, looming like a tower, preventing any light from reaching you. “Can you blame me? I’ve seen how you look at me during lectures.” He pauses to laugh. “You’d think I was the one lecturing the way you stare, and stare, and stare…”

“That’s not–” you try to defend yourself, but you can’t. You have no reason, no explanation, no excuse. No words.

“I don’t mind,” he says, his smile widening. “It’s cute. The way you cross and uncross your legs when I catch you looking. Oh but before that, when you’re resting your cheek on your hand and tilting your pretty little head… that’s the best.”

You look at him like he’s insane, and part of you thinks he actually might be. But the other part…

“Tell me,” he says, his knee resting on the edge of the bed, positioned for him to climb onto it if only you would just give the word. “What do you think about when you’re staring at me?”

“Jayce…” you mutter breathlessly, unsure whether or not you should say.

He leans over your sprawled out body and puts a delicate finger beneath your chin.

“You can tell me,” he smiles, his eyes betraying his true desire. “Chances are, I’ve had the same ideas.”

“I’ve,” you utter, barely able to get the words out as he pushes your head up ever so slightly, forcing you to make clearer eye contact with him. “I’ve thought about…”

Thinking those thoughts is one thing, but saying them out loud is completely different. It’s impossible.

“Use your words, honey,” he says, stroking your bottom lips with the calloused pad of his thumb, as if he were trying to coax the dirty words out.

“About laying on your table…in the empty lecture hall…”

“And?”

“And you’d…” you sigh, exasperated. Somehow trying to utter this sentence took more out of you than running a mile would. “You’d have your head…between my thighs.”

“Would I be tasting you, sweetheart?” He asks, a grin spreading across his face, revealing sharp canines. A new thought crept into your mind. What would those teeth feel like dragging your panties off? What would they feel like biting your thigh, or your neck?

“Yes,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own admission, although he pried it from your pretty, glossy pink lips. “Yes you’d be tasting me…”

“Attagirl,” he says, removing his hand from your chin and his knee from your bed.

For a moment, you aren’t sure what he’s going to do. Would he take this admission and run out of your room with it? Would he tell your parents? Would he tell his friends? Would you go to school the next day, the laughing stock of the academy?

He drops to his knees.

Your breath halts as his hands land on your knees, his eyes gazing up at you over the crest of the side of your mattress. His calloused palms rub the soft skin of your thighs, upward bound.

“Jayce?” You ask, knots in your stomach.

“I was right,” he says, the path his hands taking never ceasing. “We have had the same idea.”

He pushes up the fabric of your powder blue dress, pulling you slightly off of the bed so that his lips can find the inside of your thighs. He leaves soft kisses along them.

You watch as his hungry amber eyes flicker up, landing on your soft pink panties.

“Fuck,” he mutters against the plush skin of your thigh.

He pushes your thighs apart and pulls you closer by your hips. His nose presses against the wet spot on your panties and he takes a deep, slow breath. You watch as his eyes flicker shut, relishing the scent of you so close to him. The sight only makes you wetter.

“God, you smell so fucking good,” he groans. He flicks his tongue out and licks the fabric of your panties, leaving a damp spot. You twitch against the wet sensation, your thighs closing a bit but his hands are faster. He holds them down as he continues to tease you through the fabric.

“Jayce…” you begin to start your reprimand, ready to tell him to stop teasing you and just dive in, to eat you out like he’s starving, but you can’t utter any word other than, “please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks, looking up with that wicked grin of his. “Use your words, remember?”

“Please…please taste me…”

You feel utterly deprecated just saying such dirty things to a man you only just officially met, but if the fantasies in your head were worth anything, you two were intimately acquainted by now. And to Jayce…well those fantasies seemed to be worth a lot.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs to pull down the fabric separating his tongue from your pleasure. He’s quick to push your thighs back down again, regaining his control of your trembling body.

He makes sure he’s watching you when he administers his first slow, tantalizing lick. His eyes are hooded and hungry, and his hunger translates well.

“Oh my god…” you whimper as he tastes you.

He picks up speed, his tongue slicing through your folds and spending lots of time at your quivering clit. He licks and sucks and slobbers like he hasn’t had a meal in years, which you know to not be true. Such an appetite.

“Jayce,” you whimper, pleading, begging, but for what you do not know.

He moans against your clit as you say his name, the precious sound of your debased voice striking a delicate chord within him. The vibration of his moan against your core makes your back arch, and his eyes dart back up to you, to watch you suffer under his pleasure.

“I think–I think I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly as your hands grab at the sheets above your head. You look so pretty, stretched out and suspended like that, your arms hanging above your head and your legs thrown out on either side of Jayce’s blur of dark hair and sharp features.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” Jayce muffles against you, his assault on your quivering clit not letting up one bit. “Let me hear it.”

You whine and squeal and thrash against his face, his hands squeezing hard to keep your thighs down so he can continue his job. You reach for his hair, just to have something solid to grab onto in your ecstasy, and he moans at the rough tug, the vibrations topping off your climax as your arched back grounds itself against your sheets again, descending alongside you.

He’s still hungry, and he hardly allows you any time to recover from your first orgasm, something you didn’t experience very often, especially not from the mouth of a man. Already, he’s climbing atop you, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to reveal his long, fully hardened cock. You reach out with unsteady fingers to unbutton his fancy dress shirt, admiring the way it’s already gathered wrinkles from his rowdy behavior between your legs.

Now you’re equally dishevelled. Your lip gloss has been rubbed off by your hungry bites at your lip and his mouth shines with your arousal and his own spit. Your dress is polled up over your hips and his own shirt barely clings to his arms in its unbuttoned state. Your hair pools out beneath you and his still bears the marks of your tugging.

It’s heaven for Jayce to see you like this. He’s spent weeks admiring the prim and proper put together little rich girl across the lecture hall, imagining what she would look like fucked out beneath him, screaming his name and abandoning all manners. He wants to ruin you, and he will.

His lips crash against yours, your arousal and his spit providing you with new lip gloss. His tongue betrays his hunger, crashing against yours, pushing it aside as he explores each corner of your little mouth. All the while, his hands are creeping up your soft stomach and resting on your breasts beneath his heavy, muscled torso.

“Jayce, I want you…I want you inside me,” you mutter, gaining some boldness at the sight of his craving.

He doesn’t even have the strength to muster a reply. He intends on saving all of his energy for destroying your cute little cunt. He grabs his cock, pumping it a few times to spill out the precum resting on his tip. He aligns it with your tight entrance and spreads your arousal over it to provide aid in jamming it into you.

“Fuck!” You shout into his broad shoulder. “Oh fuck!”

He didn’t expect such naughty words to rip from your innocent little throat, but he delights in your reaction to him stretching you.

He rocks his hips in and out of you, slowly at first, but even he can’t hold himself back just for the sake of torturing you. He ruts into you, pathetic, needy. His body presses down onto you, your chest smushed against his as he leans on his forearm beside your head. He groans out at each desperate thrust into your tight cunt.

You’re no better. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever closer and deeper into you. Each kiss of his tip to your cervix elicits a loud whine from you, echoing through your room. Your ornate decorations and pristine shelves now act as a shallow veneer. You’re not so clean anymore. Not so innocent.

“Oh Jayce,” you moan breathily. “Just like that! Oh fuck!”

You’re a mess beneath him, muttering slutty little words that rise and fall in volume as his thrusts punctuate them. Jayce is so lost in pleasure that it takes him a minute to realize that your volume has become an issue.

He brings a hand over your mouth, the other arm still acting as support as he rests on his forearm. You taste the salt of his skin on his palm as he presses it to your soft lips.

“You make such pretty noises for me,” Jayce says softly, a groan interrupting his syllables every so often. “And you sound so good but you gotta be quiet, baby.”

Despite his words, his thrusts don’t soften and his grip on your mouth remains. Your moans continue, quietly, muffled against his strong hand. To prevent himself from moaning too loud, he bites down on your shoulder. Hard. It’s enough to send you over the edge, the pain rippling through your skin and down to your core.

You can tell he’s close too, by the way his bite hardens and his hips jut mercilessly into you. Your legs begin to tremble and you tilt your head back, your back arching off of the bed to press even closer against his chest.

He replaces his hand with his mouth, which does an equally good job of shutting you up. With a final rut of his hips into your cunt, he stifles a groan against your lips and you feel yourself filling with his seed. Your muscles relax, your toes uncurling and your chest resuming its breathing.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his head leading the fall onto the bed beside you. His hand wraps around your waist and he administers a final kiss to your forehead. “That was…”

“Just how you imagined it?”

“Better.”

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

The Announcement

sirius black x reader - the announcement

word count: 3.5k

summary: y/n and sirius visit the potter’s and lily has an announcement for everyone

warnings: shameless sirius bc that’s my favorite sirius

a/n: i thought i was going to write more of this but i lost interest lol… figured i would go ahead and post it

     The crisp December air carried a sharp bite as Y/N and Sirius made their way up the winding path to the Potters’ home. Snow blanketed the ground, glistening under the soft glow of the streetlamps. The house ahead was warm and inviting, its windows glowing with golden light and the faint sound of laughter drifting out into the cold night.

     “We’re late,” Y/N pointed out, her tone laced with mock disapproval.

     “Are we?” Sirius quipped, feigning surprise as he tightened his grip on her hand. “I hadn’t noticed.”

     Y/N gave him a light shove, her laughter echoing into the quiet night. “James is going to give us hell for this, isn’t he?”

     “Absolutely. But let him,” Sirius said with a shrug. “He’s just jealous because Lily never looks at him the way you look at me.”

     Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth that bloomed in her chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

     “And yet, here you are,” Sirius quipped, the smirk never leaving his face.

     “Hang on a second,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a softer, more serious tone.

     Y/N turned to face him, her brow furrowing slightly. “What is it?”

     “Nothing,” he said softly, his gray eyes locking onto hers. His free hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer. “I just need a moment with you before we go in there.”

     Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “A moment for what?”

     “For this,” Sirius murmured.

     He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. Sirius deepened the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly on her waist as though anchoring her to him.

     When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against hers, their breaths mingling in the cold night air.

     “You look absolutely stunning tonight, doll,” he whispered, his voice low and earnest. His gray eyes searched hers, filled with unbridled adoration. “Almost too good for them, really. Maybe we should skip dinner and stay home.”

     Y/N blinked, her cheeks warming despite the chill. Sirius had a way of saying things that made her feel like the center of the universe, even in the most ordinary moments. “Sirius—” she started, but he cut her off with a playful grin.

     “I’m serious.”

     She groaned, playfully pushing him away. “You ruin everything, you know that?”

     “Never,” he shot back, “Now we’re late enough to make an entrance.”

     Y/N let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head at him. “You’re impossible.”

     “And yet—”

     “Here I am,” she finished for him, smiling despite herself.

     Sirius grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before stepping back. “Come on, doll. Let’s go let Prongs and Lily know we’ve graced them with our presence.”

     Y/N rolled her eyes but followed him up the last few steps to the door, her heart still racing from the kiss.

     As Sirius reached for the door, it swung open suddenly, revealing James’s grinning face.

     “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up!” James said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

     Sirius grinned back, unfazed. “We’re still the best part of your evening.”

     “Debatable,” James shot back, though his tone was light. His eyes shifted to Y/N, his grin softening. “Y/N, you’re looking lovely tonight. Too lovely for this git, if you ask me.”

     Y/N laughed, stepping forward to give him a quick hug. “Thanks, James.”

     “Oi,” Sirius protested, though his grin suggested he wasn’t actually offended.

     Lily appeared behind James, her expression softening as she saw Y/N. “It’s about time you two got here. Come in, come in—it’s freezing out there.”

     She stepped aside to let them in, and Y/N couldn’t help but sigh in contentment as the warmth of the house enveloped her. The smell of roasting meat and fresh bread filled the air.

     “Dinner will be ready in about half an hour,” Lily said, closing the door behind them. “James, take their coats.”

     James groaned dramatically. “Why do I always have to play coat rack?”

     “Because you’re closer to the door,” Lily said matter-of-factly, giving him a look that dared him to argue.

     With a resigned sigh, James took their coats, hanging them neatly on the rack by the door.

     Y/N glanced over at Sirius, who gave her a small wink before guiding her toward the living room.

     The Potter’s living room was as warm and inviting as the rest of the house, with mismatched furniture that somehow worked perfectly together.

     Remus and Peter were already seated, deep in conversation. Remus lounged on the sofa, looking as relaxed as ever, while Peter sat in the armchair closest to the fire, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

     “About time you two made it,” Remus said, his tone teasing as he looked up at Sirius and Y/N.

     “Fashionably late,” Sirius corrected, releasing Y/N’s hand only to guide her toward the center of the room. “It’s a fine art.”

     “It’s a fine excuse,” Peter quipped, earning a chuckle from Remus.

     James flopped onto the sofa beside Remus. 

     “Look, the important thing is we’re here now,” Sirius said, unbothered as he dropped into a large armchair with an exaggerated sigh. He stretched his legs out in front of him, looking every bit as comfortable as if he owned the place.

     He glanced up at Y/N, his gray eyes glinting with mischief. He patted his knee with an inviting grin. “Come here, love.”

     Y/N rolled her eyes but stepped closer, letting Sirius tug her onto his lap. The chair was plenty big enough for the two of them, but Sirius’s hold was firm as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

     “Much better,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

     “You’re shameless,” she said lightly, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a small smile.

     “Absolutely,” Sirius replied, nuzzling the side of her neck.

     Peter snorted from his seat by the fire. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so attached to another person.”

     “Don’t encourage him,” Y/N said, shooting Peter a playful glare.

     But Sirius, undeterred, tightened his hold on her. “Why not? It’s true.”

     “Here we go,” James said. He gestured towards Sirius, “Two minutes in and he’s already making us all look bad.”

     “It’s a gift,” Sirius replied smoothly, resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder.

     “Or a curse,” Remus muttered, though his tone was light.

     Lily joined them a moment later, pausing in the doorway with a small smile. “Y/N, those earrings are gorgeous,” she said, motioning toward the gold and pearl earrings Y/N was wearing.

     Y/N reached up to touch one of them, a bashful smile spreading across her face. “Thank you, Lily. Sirius got them for me.”

     “Of course he did,” Remus said with a smirk. “Anything to keep her around, eh?”

     Sirius raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Oi, I don’t need bribery. My natural charm does the trick.”

     Remus rolled his eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Pads.”

     James, who had been lounging on the sofa, leaned forward with a grin. “Speaking of keeping her around…” He tilted his head toward Sirius. “When are you going to get her a ring, mate?”

     Y/N felt her cheeks flush instantly. She glanced down at her hands, suddenly very interested in the stitching on Sirius’s jacket.

     Sirius, however, didn’t miss a beat. He chuckled, brushing a kiss against her cheek before addressing James. “What’s the rush, Prongs? She’s not going anywhere.”

     “Careful,” James warned, wagging a finger at him. “Wait too long and she might start looking for better options.”

     “Unlikely,” Sirius said confidently, his gray eyes sparkling with amusement.

     “All right, all right,” Lily interjected, taking pity on Y/N. “Leave them alone, James.”

     James threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine, but you’re all witnesses—I tried.”

     The conversation shifted after that, moving into lighthearted discussions about work and the latest ridiculous thing James had done. Sirius kept his arms around Y/N the entire time, occasionally brushing his lips against her shoulder or murmuring small comments that made her laugh.

━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━

     “All right, dinner’s ready,” Lily reappeared in the doorway. “Come on, everyone, let’s head to the table before James eats everything in sight.”

     “I’m only having what I deserve,” James protested dramatically.

     Everyone stood, stretching and making their way toward the dining room.

     The dining room was just as inviting as the living room. The long wooden table was set with mismatched plates and silverware, and a hearty spread of food covered nearly every inch of its surface. Roast beef, golden potatoes, roasted vegetables, warm bread rolls, and a rich gravy were just a few of the dishes vying for attention.

     Lily beamed as everyone took their seats, clearly pleased with the results of her hard work. “All right, dig in,” she said, taking her place at the head of the table beside James.

     Sirius pulled out a chair for Y/N, letting his hand linger on her lower back as she sat. He took the seat beside her, his knee brushing against hers under the table.

     “You’ve outdone yourself, Lily,” Remus said, eyeing the spread appreciatively. “This looks incredible.”

     “It smells incredible,” Peter added, already reaching for the nearest dish.

     Lily waved off the compliments, though the pink in her cheeks betrayed her pleasure. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a little something to keep you all fed.”

     “More than a little,” Y/N said, smiling at her. “Thank you for having us, Lily.”

     “Of course,” Lily said, her expression softening. “You’re always welcome here.”

    As plates were filled and drinks poured, the conversation flowed easily. The group reminisced about their Hogwarts days, trading stories of pranks, late-night adventures, and the occasional moment of chaos.

     “Do you remember the time we tried to sneak into the kitchen for extra pumpkin pasties?” James asked, pointing his fork at Sirius. “And you tripped over Filch’s cat?”

     “That was not my fault,” Sirius said indignantly. “The damn thing came out of nowhere.”

     “It came out of the shadows like some kind of demon,” Peter added, his eyes wide with mock horror.

     “Exactly,” Sirius said, gesturing at Peter. “Thank you. At least someone remembers it correctly.”

     Y/N laughed, her hand resting on Sirius’s arm as she leaned closer. “So, what did you do?”

     “Ran for our lives,” Remus said dryly.

     “Not before James screamed like a banshee,” Sirius added, earning a glare from his best friend.

     “I did not!” James protested.

     “You absolutely did,” Lily said, her tone matter-of-fact as she sipped her water.

     The table erupted into laughter, and even James couldn’t hold back a smile.

     Sirius turned to Y/N, his gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “See what I had to deal with?”

     “Must’ve been a nightmare,” Y/N said, her tone teasing.

     “Every day,” Sirius replied, though the affection in his voice was unmistakable.

     As the meal went on, Sirius’s hand found its way to Y/N’s again, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. It was a small gesture, but it sent warmth coursing through her.

     The sound of clinking glasses and cheerful chatter filled the room as the plates slowly emptied. Lily beamed every time someone complimented her cooking, while James pretended to take credit for the meal, earning playful swats from his wife.

     “I have to admit,” Remus said, leaning back in his chair, “this might be the best meal I’ve had in months.”

     “Agreed,” Peter said, nodding. “You’ve spoiled us, Lily.”

     “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lily said with a smile.

     James stood abruptly, raising his glass. “A toast,” he declared, his voice cutting through the din.

     Everyone paused, their attention turning to him.

     “To good friends, good food, and the best damn family anyone could ask for,” James said, his grin wide and sincere.

     “Hear, hear,” Sirius said, raising his glass as the rest of the group followed suit.

     "Now," he said, his voice carrying with a self-importance that immediately set the tone for whatever was coming. "It's time we all acknowledge that life is changing. Things are shifting, and, well... we need to embrace it.

     Sirius, clearly anticipating James's theatrics, smirked but didn't say anything. Y/N, sitting next to him, exchanged an amused glance with Remus, who seemed just as familiar with this routine.

     “Let’s get to the real reason we’re all gathered here tonight." James gave a dramatic pause, looking around the table, catching everyone’s eyes before finally turning to Lily, who was sitting beside him with a knowing smile. "Lily," he said, his voice lowering slightly with a playful solemnity. "The floor is yours."

     Lily, with a soft but radiant smile, placed her hand on her belly. She met James’s gaze with an expression filled with both love and excitement. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to speak.

     "I think," Lily began, her voice warm and steady, "that it’s time we share something with all of you."

     Y/N felt a flutter of anticipation in her chest as she looked between James and Lily. Her eyes lingered on Lily’s hand resting on her stomach, a subtle hint that something was coming.

     "We’ve been waiting for the right moment," Lily continued, her smile widening as she finally let the news slip. "And well, the right moment is now."

     She paused, letting the words settle in before adding, "James and I are expecting."

     There was a collective gasp around the table. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and her eyes went wide as she processed the announcement. The room erupted into excited chatter, everyone speaking over each other in joy and disbelief.

     "Bloody hell!" Sirius exclaimed, standing quickly from his chair and striding over to James. He clapped him on the back with a force that nearly sent James stumbling forward. "You're going to be a father!" he laughed, his voice thick with pride and something softer—something more emotional.

     James chuckled, clearly overwhelmed but thrilled. "Can you believe it?" he said, his voice catching slightly. He glanced at Lily, who was looking at him with a smile that said everything.

     Y/N, still in a state of shock and joy, stood up quickly. She moved toward Lily, her heart full as she threw her arms around her. "Lily, that’s amazing!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I’m so happy for you both!"

     Lily hugged her back just as fiercely, her laughter bubbling up. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, pulling away to look her in the eye. "I couldn’t wait to tell you. It feels so right, all of this."

     Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, but she blinked them away, grinning from ear to ear. She glanced over her shoulder to see Sirius, who had returned to his seat, his own eyes slightly misty.

     "I swear, mate," Sirius said, his voice a little hoarse, though his grin was as wide as ever, "I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be the one in this situation. You’re going to be a bloody brilliant dad."

     James laughed, but there was a definite softness in his eyes, "I’m terrified, to be honest," he admitted, his tone vulnerable for a split second. "But I couldn’t be more excited."

     Y/N moved back to her seat, smiling as she looked around at the joy-filled faces of her friends. This moment felt monumental, like a new chapter had begun, one full of hope and love.

     Sirius’s eyes, glistening with emotion, shifted between James and Lily, still processing the magnitude of what they had just shared. His heart was so full, so utterly overwhelmed with happiness for his best friend, that the emotions he’d been trying to keep in check finally slipped past his defenses.

     He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the lump that had formed there, but it didn’t work. The joy in his chest was so heavy, it was impossible to keep it all inside. His eyes started to burn, and he rubbed his face quickly, as though to stave off the tears that were threatening to spill over. But they came anyway—slowly at first, then with more urgency, as he realized the depth of what James and Lily’s baby meant.

     “Sirius?” Y/N’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to find her standing beside him, her gaze full of concern.

     He gave her a shaky smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The tears, now unmistakable, were streaming down his face. He wiped them away quickly, but they kept coming, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

     “I’m sorry, I—” His voice broke, and he stopped, taking in a shaky breath. “I just—this baby is going to be so loved,” he murmured, his words coming out thick with emotion. “So loved. And I know that because of the two of you. And the family we’ve built together.”

     Y/N felt a lump in her throat as she reached out for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She could see it now—the weight of what this meant for him. She had always known how deeply Sirius felt for his friends, how much he cared for them like they were his own flesh and blood. But seeing him so raw, so vulnerable in this moment, was something else entirely.

     He looked at her, his eyes searching for something, some kind of reassurance, but he didn’t find it. Instead, his gaze turned back to James and Lily, his voice unsteady. “This kid… this kid is going to grow up with two amazing parents, and they’re going to have all of us to love them. Every single one of us. You’re not just bringing a child into this world—you’re bringing someone into a family that’s already been built on love. And that baby will feel that. Every second of every day.”

     Sirius swallowed hard, his voice thick with emotion, the words tumbling out as if he couldn’t stop them now. “I know we’ve all been through hell, and I know we’re not perfect, but that little one... they won’t have to fight for this love. It’ll be given to them freely, and endlessly, and God—” He choked on his words, blinking furiously as more tears fell down his cheeks. “They’ll never have to wonder if they’re wanted. Because they will be, more than anything in this world.”

     James and Lily, standing off to the side, exchanged a look. There was a mixture of surprise and something else—something deeper. They could see how much Sirius cared, how much this moment meant to him.

     James, who had been standing back, observing this tender moment, finally spoke, his voice rough but full of sincerity. “Sirius…” He stepped forward, clapping his hand on his shoulder, his own eyes moist with emotion. “Thank you. For everything. You’re going to be part of this little one’s life too. I know that for sure.”

     Sirius sniffed and nodded, his chest tight. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he murmured, his voice still raw but steadying now. He managed a small, tearful smile at James, the bond between them stronger than ever. “You’re my brother, Prongs. Always.”

     “And you’re mine, Pads,” James replied, his voice full of warmth. “You’ve been there for me more times than I can count. And you’ll be there for this baby too.”

     Sirius wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, forcing out a shaky breath. “Alright, alright, enough of that,” he said, trying to clear the emotion from his voice. “I’m not crying anymore. At least, not in front of you lot.” He managed a weak chuckle, though his heart was still pounding. “We need champagne.”

     The pop of the champagne cork echoed through the room, and Sirius grinned, expertly pouring the bubbly into glasses. He handed Y/N a glass with a playful wink, and she accepted it with a smile.

     “Cheers,” Sirius said, raising his glass with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The others followed suit, clinking their glasses together. Lily, sitting beside James, simply smiled warmly but didn't reach for a glass herself.

     Y/N took a sip of her champagne, the bubbly tickling her tongue, and glanced around at the group. James and Remus were both grinning, and Sirius, his usual confident self, couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She couldn't help but smile in return.

     Sirius couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he pulled Y/N close, his arms wrapping around her waist. His eyes were alight with excitement, and before she could react, he kissed her gently on the cheek, then on the top of her head. He pulled back slightly, his smile only growing wider.

      “I’m so bloody happy,” Sirius murmured, kissing her cheek again, a little more quickly this time, as though he couldn’t contain his joy. “I can’t believe it—Lily’s pregnant. We’re going to be an aunt and uncle!”

     He laughed softly, kissing her head once more, his lips lingering there for a second before pulling back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “We’re going to be amazing,” he added, his voice full of excitement.

     Y/N could feel the warmth of his kisses against her skin, and the way he couldn't stop smiling made her own heart swell. “I think we will be,” she said with a small laugh, her hands lightly resting on his chest.

     Sirius kissed her cheek again, this time with a playful sense of urgency. “I just can’t stop thinking about it, Y/N. We’re going to spoil that baby rotten.” He kissed her head again, this time a soft peck that was more about the moment than anything else.

     Y/N smiled up at him, her heart fluttering with the affection he showed.

      Sirius laughed, the sound of it rich and carefree. He kissed her on the cheek once more, so many times that Y/N felt almost giddy with the affection. "I can’t wait for all of it, doll. I’m just so bloody happy."

[goldfades]

next time | chapter three, DAYLIGHT

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.7k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you try to move on from a past relationship finds yourself caught between a safe relationship with a new football player and a magnetic attraction to joe burrow. kylie tries to guide you towards stable relationships but you struggle with the lack of passion and excitement in your current romance.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kinda angsty, past relationships mention, dalton kincaid mention!!!, ummm nothing else.

The bass thrummed low through the floor, the sound vibrating beneath Joe’s feet as he leaned back against the bar, whiskey glass in hand. The postgame party was in full swing—players scattered around in groups, some deep in conversation, others basking in the high of the night. The exclusivity of it all made things feel a little more intimate, a little less like a spectacle, which he appreciated. No cameras, no media, just guys celebrating with their people.

He had barely touched his drink, rolling the glass between his fingers as he let his eyes scan the room. He wasn’t really sure what—or who—he was looking for.

“Yo, man, you good?”

Joe barely turned his head as Ja’Marr slid in beside him, a bottle of beer in hand, eyes sharp like he could see right through whatever Joe was thinking.

Joe exhaled through his nose. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh. That’s your favorite answer these days.”

Joe didn’t bother arguing.

Ja’Marr took a swig from his bottle before nodding toward the far side of the room. “Travis is here with Taylor, obviously.”

Joe followed his line of sight, catching a glimpse of the couple. Travis, as usual, was in the center of everything, laughing loudly, talking with damn near everyone in the room. Taylor was settled in a booth nearby, not nearly as deep into the scene as her boyfriend, but smiling nonetheless.

And next to her—

Joe blinked. There was someone next to her. Someone he didn’t recognize.

And yet...

Something flickered in his chest, sharp and sudden, like a stray ember catching flame.

You were sitting comfortably, legs crossed, your body angled toward Taylor as you talked, deep in whatever conversation they were having. Unlike the other women at the party, she wasn’t dressed to be noticed—no skin-tight dress, no exaggerated effort to stand out. Just effortless. Simple. Like she belonged without trying.

Joe couldn’t look away.

Something about her felt... familiar, though he couldn’t place why.

Ja’Marr must have noticed, because he let out a low chuckle. “Ohhh. I see what’s happening here.”

Joe finally tore his eyes away, shaking his head. “Shut up.”

“Nah, man, this is interesting,” Ja’Marr mused, leaning against the bar. “You actually interested in someone? Haven’t seen that in a minute.”

Joe ignored him, but that didn’t stop Ja’Marr from grinning.

“Who is she?” Joe asked before he could stop himself.

Ja’Marr arched a brow. “That’s Kelce’s sister.”

Joe turned back toward her, brow furrowing slightly. He’d heard about Travis’s sister in passing but had never actually seen her before. She was always in the background, tucked away in the spaces where the cameras didn’t reach.

But now? Now he was seeing her.

Really seeing her.

Ja’Marr smirked. “Didn’t know Travis had a sister, huh?”

“I mean... I knew.” Joe tilted his head slightly. “Just didn’t know she was... her.”

Ja’Marr let out a laugh. “Oh yeah, man. That’s her.”

Joe turned back toward his drink, swirling the liquid inside, trying to settle whatever had just sparked in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

Not now.

Not after everything.

It had been months since his breakup with Olivia, but he still wasn’t used to this—this thing inside of him that craved something solid, something real, but had no idea where to find it. He’d tried to push it down, tried to ignore it, but it was still there. And now, looking across the room at a girl he didn’t even know, it was clawing its way back to the surface.

He stole another glance, catching the way she laughed at something Taylor said, head tilting back just slightly, eyes bright with amusement.

That feeling surged again.

Joe clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not to him. Not like this.

The house was quiet when Joe got home, the kind of quiet that made his own thoughts louder. He dropped his keys onto the counter, kicked off his shoes, and sank onto the couch, running a hand through his hair. His phone was already in his hand before he could think twice about it. Muscle memory had him opening Instagram, but this time, instead of mindlessly scrolling, he typed a name into the search bar.

Your name.

It popped up immediately. No effort. No guessing. Like even the damn algorithm knew he was curious.

He clicked on your profile, eyes scanning over it with something between hesitation and intrigue. Your profile picture wasn’t what he expected—no posed influencer shot, no carefully curated aesthetic. Just you, smiling at the camera on the beach. Simple.

And the posts? Barely 30 of them. Joe found that odd.

With a last name like Kelce, you could’ve been larger than life. He’d expected more—glamorous vacations, front-row seats, high-profile events. Instead, what he got was...

Normal.

A couple of pictures with your brothers—Travis grinning like an idiot with his arm slung around your shoulders, Jason hugging you tight and you with Kylie and the kids. A handful of game-day shots, mostly from years ago. One with Taylor, obviously.

And then—Joe scrolled lower.

Prom photos. His thumb hovered over the screen, eyes narrowing slightly. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

It wasn’t the Kelce sister, the one with over 10 million followers, standing in an ordinary high school gym, wearing a dress that, while beautiful, wasn’t designer or extravagant. It wasn’t you, standing next to a guy in a rented tux, smiling like you had no idea how different your life was going to be in just a few years.

Joe felt something shift in his chest. He couldn’t explain it, not really. But this? This was unexpected.

Who were you?

Because from what he could see, you weren’t just the Kelce’s sister. You weren’t just some girl who happened to exist in the same space as NFL royalty.

You were something else entirely.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Joe wanted to know more.

The house was lively, as it always was.

Jason and Kylie’s home never knew silence, not with three kids under five running around, demanding attention, food, and whatever toy the other had at any given moment. The TV was playing some random kid’s show in the background, the faint sound of little giggles filling the air as Benny toddled after Wyatt, both of them holding onto a stuffed football like it was the most prized possession in the world.

You sat at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of tea Kylie had made you. She insisted it would be good for your stress—not that you were stressed, of course, but apparently, she could just tell.

Across from you, Jason leaned back in his chair, watching you with a look that made you roll your eyes before he even opened his mouth.

“So, let me get this straight,” he started, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re seriously letting Kylie pick your next boyfriend?”

“She’s not picking him,” you corrected, tapping your nails against the side of your mug. “She’s just… giving me options.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

Kylie, standing by the counter with her phone in hand, waved him off. “Oh, shut up. I’m doing what you should be doing instead of scaring off every guy who even thinks about talking to her.”

Jason pointed at her. “That’s my job.”

“No,” she countered, flipping through her phone. “Your job is to be a supportive big brother who wants his sister to be happy.”

“She is happy,” Jason insisted. Then, turning to you, he added, “You’re happy, right?”

You gave him a dry look. “So happy.”

Kylie huffed. “Okay, well, you’d be happier if you weren’t wasting away in self-pity over you-know-who.”

Jason tensed immediately, expression darkening at the mere mention of him.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We’re not doing this.”

“We are doing this,” Kylie pushed. “Because I love you, and you deserve to move on.”

Jason grumbled something under his breath but said nothing more, probably because he knew Kylie wasn’t going to drop it.

“Anyway,” Kylie continued, ignoring her husband’s brooding, “I took the liberty of compiling a list of eligible bachelors who might be worthy of your attention.”

You lifted a brow. “A list?”

She held up her phone. “A roster, technically.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “Jesus Christ.”

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smirk. “A roster? You’re actually scouting for me?”

“Damn right, I am,” Kylie said proudly. “And I think I found a solid option.”

You leaned forward slightly, a little amused now. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

She turned her phone around, revealing a picture of Dalton Kincaid.

You blinked. “The Bills’ tight end?”

Kylie nodded. “He’s young, talented, good-looking—”

Jason made a sound of protest.

“—respectful,” Kylie continued, throwing her husband a look. “And I did my research. No crazy exes, no scandals, and he seems like an all-around nice guy.”

You tilted your head, staring at the picture. You had to admit… he was attractive.

Kylie caught your pause and gasped, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re considering it.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.”

“I didn’t say that—”

“But you didn’t not say that.”

Jason groaned again, pushing back from the table. “I hate everything about this.”

Kylie swatted at him playfully before turning back to you, her excitement barely contained. “This is progress! We’re getting somewhere!”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. “It’s not that serious.”

“But you think he’s cute.”

“…He’s not not cute.”

Kylie clapped her hands together. “I’ll take it.”

Jason just muttered something about needing a beer.

You laughed softly, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

For the first time in a long time, the weight on your chest didn’t feel so suffocating.

Jason, still grumbling about the whole thing, leaned forward and set his forearms on the table. “Alright, if we’re really doing this, I have a suggestion.”

Kylie rolled her eyes. “Oh, now you’re getting involved?”

“I’m just saying,” Jason shrugged. “I met this rookie at camp—JJ McCarthy. Nice kid, real polite. Reminds me of myself, honestly.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Jason.”

“What?”

“He’s a rookie.”

“So?”

“So, I’m not about to be a cougar just because you met some nice kid at camp.”

Jason smirked. “I mean, it’d make for some great headlines.”

You tossed a napkin at him. “Shut up.”

Kylie, snickering, scrolled through her phone again. “Alright, fine, JJ’s out. What about…” She hummed, scrolling. “Christian McCaffrey?”

Jason shook his head. “Engaged.”

“Damn,” Kylie muttered, moving on. “What about George Pickens?”

Jason scoffed. “Not happening.”

“Okay, okay,” Kylie continued, tapping her screen. “Ooh, what about Joe Burrow?”

Jason immediately burst into laughter. Like, full-bodied, shoulders-shaking laughter. You and Kylie both blinked at him.

Kylie frowned. “What the hell is so funny?”

Jason wiped a fake tear from his eye. “You think Joe Burrow is relationship material?” He laughed again, shaking his head. “That guy is the opposite of what she needs.”

You tilted your head, intrigued now. “Why do you say that?”

Jason snorted. “Because Burrow is married to the game. Dude’s got tunnel vision. He’s not the type to settle down, trust me.”

Kylie scoffed. “That’s not entirely true. He was in a long-term relationship before, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, and look how that ended,” Jason pointed out. “He’s not gonna be boyfriend of the year anytime soon.”

You, despite yourself, were mildly curious now. You hadn’t really thought about Joe Burrow in that way before, but Jason’s insistence that it would never happen somehow made it more interesting.

Not that you were interested. At all.

Obviously.

Kylie crossed her arms. “Well, I think you two would be cute together.”

Jason laughed again. “Not a chance.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Can we please move on? I am not about to start a fantasy draft of my love life.”

Kylie sighed dramatically. “Fine. But just so you know, I am rooting for Dalton Kincaid.”

Jason groaned. “I need another beer.”

You just shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips as the conversation shifted to something else. But still, for some reason, the idea of Joe Burrow lingered in the back of your mind longer than it probably should have.

It started off simple.

Dalton had followed you on Instagram a few days after your conversation with Kylie and Jason, and Kylie had been the first to notice. “Look at that! Already manifesting. I’m a genius.” You had rolled your eyes at her dramatic proclamation, but you had to admit—it was a little funny.

Then he liked one of your photos.

You didn’t think much of it at first. He seemed like a nice guy from what you’d heard, and he had that clean-cut, all-American charm to him. No drama, no scandal, no exes lurking in the shadows. Just a solid, respectable guy.

You liked one of his photos back, just to see what would happen.

Then, one evening, a DM popped up.

Dalton Kincaid: Hey, didn’t know we had mutuals. Small world.

It was harmless, casual, and completely normal—so normal that it threw you off. After years of dealing with cryptic texts, games, and public blowouts, the idea of a guy just… being direct felt almost foreign.

You responded. He responded. And just like that, a conversation started.

A week later, he asked you to dinner.

You said yes.

And honestly? It was nice.

Dalton was polite, always held the door open for you, asked questions about your life, and actually listened. He didn’t pry too much about your family or your past, didn’t seem to care about the attention your last relationship had brought. He just seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

And after everything you’d been through, you figured that had to count for something.

So, when he asked you out again, you said yes.

And then again.

And then again.

It wasn’t some whirlwind romance, nothing dramatic or earth-shattering. It was steady, predictable. Safe.

That’s what you should want, right?

That’s what Kylie kept saying. “This is good for you,” she insisted one night after a double date. “This is what a normal relationship looks like.”

Jason, surprisingly, got along with him when they finally met. He gave Dalton a firm handshake, grilled him about football, and even managed to squeeze in an overly protective “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you” speech—which Dalton took in stride.

Everything was fine.

So why did you feel nothing?

You tried to ignore it. You really did.

But Kylie? Kylie could tell.

It was dinner at their house, just something casual. You’d brought Dalton along, and Jason was actually being nice for once, talking football and joking around with him.

But Kylie was watching you.

And when you reached for your wine glass for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, she leaned in close and murmured, “You’re bored.”

You blinked at her. “What?”

“You’re bored,” she repeated, matter-of-fact.

“I am not—”

She gave you a look.

You exhaled sharply, lowering your glass. “It’s just… different.”

Kylie arched an eyebrow. “Different how?”

You didn’t answer.

But she already knew.

Before dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and gripping the edge of the sink as you stared at your reflection.

What were you doing?

Dalton was perfect—on paper, at least.

But the truth was, you weren’t excited. Your heart didn’t race when he texted you. You didn’t find yourself thinking about him when he wasn’t around. You weren’t craving his presence.

You had been convincing yourself that this was what you needed—something stable, something good.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

You had always been drawn to chaos.

Jayson had been chaos. That relationship had been unpredictable, passionate, messy. It had ruined you, and yet you had kept going back, over and over, because you didn’t know anything different.

Was that just who you were?

Were you always going to be the girl who ran toward the fire, no matter how many times she got burned?

You closed your eyes, exhaling shakily.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be healing.

So why did it feel like you were just losing yourself all over again?

The event was grand, extravagant in a way that felt both dazzling and completely exhausting. The kind of celebration where everything gleamed just a little too bright, the champagne flowed just a little too freely, and everyone pretended they weren’t sizing each other up with every passing glance.

You had tried—really tried—to get into it.

You were supposed to be playing two roles tonight: proud sister, devoted WAG. You had the dress, the practiced smile, the polite small talk. But twenty minutes in, you already felt yourself fading.

Dalton had been whisked away by Jason and Travis almost immediately, caught up in some animated discussion about the upcoming season. And you? You had done your best to engage, had listened to your brothers talk about strategies and offseason plans and blah blah blah—but after a while, you had quietly slipped away, finding solace in the one person who could make these things bearable.

Taylor.

“I think I’ve heard your last name about a hundred times already,” she mused, swirling her drink idly as you both leaned against the high-top table tucked into a quieter corner of the room. “Everywhere I turn, it’s ‘Kelce this, Kelce that.’ How do you deal with it?”

You let out a slow exhale, eyes scanning the glittering room. The sea of football players, coaches, media figures—it was endless.

"Practice."

Taylor laughed, tapping her manicured nails against the rim of her glass. “I don’t know how you do it. I get tired just watching you pretend to be interested.”

You smirked, raising your glass in a mock toast. “Years of experience.”

The truth was, you had been interested in the past. You had sat in the stands since you were a kid, had spent years watching your brothers play, following their careers, genuinely invested in it all.

But now?

Now, it felt like the same story on a different night. The same conversations, the same people, the same repetitive cycle.

Dalton was here, of course. Somewhere. You had watched him slip into the role of social butterfly with ease, chatting up Jason, shaking hands with some of the veterans, blending seamlessly into the scene.

You knew you should be at his side. That was what WAGs did, right? They stood next to their football player boyfriends, smiled for the cameras, cheered them on at events like this.

And yet…

You didn’t want to.

Not because you didn’t like Dalton. He was great. He was kind, easygoing, safe. But standing next to him didn’t ignite anything in you. There was no pull, no electricity.

And worst of all—you were bored out of your mind.

Your eyes flitted across the room absently, landing on familiar faces here and there. Jason was laughing, Travis was deep in conversation with some Hall of Famer, Dalton was… somewhere.

The thing about these events was that they all blurred together after a while. The same faces, the same conversations, the same predictable rhythm. You had been in rooms like this for as long as you could remember, had learned how to smile at the right moments, laugh at the right jokes, play the part.

But tonight, something felt different.

Or maybe you felt different.

Taylor had leaned in close, whispering something about how the only thing worse than being in a room full of football players was being in a room full of football players and their coaches. You had laughed, nodded, agreed wholeheartedly.

Dalton was still somewhere, lost in conversation with Jason and Travis, and for the hundredth time that night, you wondered why you were even here.

You weren’t unhappy. You weren’t miserable. But you weren’t exactly having fun either.

Your eyes wandered absently over the crowd, taking in the scene. And before you could think too much about it, you turned to Taylor. “Wanna sneak out?”

Her face lit up with delight. “God, I thought you’d never ask.”

And just like that, you slipped away, out onto the quiet balcony, letting the crisp night air wash over you.

Joe had been doing a pretty good job of convincing himself he wasn’t looking for her. For the last few weeks, her name had been sitting in the back of his mind like a song he couldn’t shake, playing on a loop, something he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to forget.

He had spent too much time trying to figure out why.

Why her? Why now? But now that she was here, standing across the room, he realized it didn’t matter. Because the second he saw her, something in him shifted.

She was sitting with Taylor, her expression unreadable, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass in a way that made something tighten in his chest. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. Since something had pulled at him like this.

Maybe never.

And then, before he could process it, before he could even think about doing something about it—

She was gone.

He blinked, scanning the room, realizing she had slipped away with Taylor out onto the balcony. And just like that, the moment was gone, slipping through his fingers before he even had the chance to hold onto it.

"You gonna go talk to her, or you just gonna stand there like an idiot?"

Joe sighed, exhaling slowly as Ja’Marr clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Not really my thing."

Ja’Marr snorted. "What, talking to girls? Since when?"

"Since she’s not just some girl."

He regretted saying it the second it left his mouth, because now Ja’Marr was grinning at him like he had just admitted to something huge.

"Damn, Joe. That bad, huh?"

Joe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "It’s not like that."

"Right. And you’re not staring at that balcony like you wanna be anywhere but here."

Joe clenched his jaw, eyes flickering toward the doors again. It was stupid. He knew that.

But something about her—the normalcy, the way she seemed so unaffected by all of this, the way she had managed to get under his skin without even trying—it was driving him insane.

And now she was right there.

Ja’Marr smirked. "You act like you’ve never had to talk to a girl before."

Joe huffed out a laugh. "This is different."

"Why? ‘Cause you actually give a shit?"

Joe didn't answer. Because yeah, that was exactly why. And the worst part?

He felt like he was back in high school, standing outside a classroom, working up the nerve to talk to the girl in his biology class. But this wasn't high school. And if he didn't go now, he probably never would.

Ja’Marr leaned in, lowering his voice. "Go."

Joe exhaled slowly.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it—

He did.

*****

Dinner with the Kelces is never a quiet affair, no matter how upscale the restaurant. Tonight is no exception.

You're sitting at a ridiculously high-end spot in New York, the kind where the waiters wear crisp white jackets, and the wine list is longer than the menu. The kind of place that expects hushed conversations and delicate bites—not a table full of Kelces, their significant others, and three children under the age of five making a scene in the middle of the dining room.

It’s chaos. Beautiful, hilarious, full-volume Kelce chaos.

And then there’s Dalton.

You glance across the table at him, watching as he patiently listens to Wyatt explain the entire plot of whatever Disney movie she’s obsessed with this week. He nods along, eyes soft, not the least bit bothered by the toddler-level monologue happening right in front of him.

He’s good. Good with the kids. Good with your family. Just… good.

And you hate yourself for not being into him the way you should be.

"Are you even listening to me?"

You blink, dragging your gaze back to Kylie, who’s watching you like she knows exactly where your head is at.

"What?" you say, shoving a piece of bread in your mouth to give yourself something to do.

Kylie gives you a look. "You’re thinking too much. Stop it."

"I’m literally just sitting here."

"You’re literally overanalyzing the nice, stable man sitting next to you and trying to talk yourself into liking him."

You groan, dropping your head into your hands.

"You should like him," Kylie continues, because of course she’s not going to let it go. "He’s great."

"I know he is," you mutter.

And you do.

Dalton is everything you’re supposed to want.

Which makes it worse that you don’t want him the way you want—

"Oh!" Taylor’s voice cuts through the conversation. "Speaking of football players, did I tell you guys about—"

You don’t even have time to react before Taylor clamps a hand over your mouth, eyes going wide like she just realized she stepped on a landmine.

Kylie immediately perks up. "About what?"

Taylor’s gaze darts to you, full of silent apology.

Shit.

You force a laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal. "Oh, it’s nothing. She’s talking about that thing with Joe Burrow at the event."

Travis, who’s been in the middle of a conversation with Jason, turns his head at the sound of the name. "What thing with Burrow?"

You roll your eyes, putting way too much effort into sounding casual. "He just wanted a picture."

A beat of silence.

Jason blinks. "That’s it?"

"Yeah, of course."

No one believes you.

Dalton, who’s been relatively quiet during the exchange, just quirks a brow, looking between you all. He doesn’t press. But you see the slight shift in his expression, like he’s noting it. Filing it away for later.

Taylor, meanwhile, is drinking her wine way too fast, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

The conversation moves on, but the tension doesn’t fully disappear.

And you spend the rest of dinner trying very hard not to think about why you lied so quickly.

And Dalton drops you off at your hotel that night, always the gentleman. He walks you to the door, hands in his pockets, that easy, genuine smile still on his face.

"I had a really great time tonight," he says.

You nod, ignoring the way your stomach twists. "Me too."

And then he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s soft. Polite. Exactly what a good guy would do. And all you can think about is how much you crave more.

Just… not from him.

The door shut behind you with a soft click, and you let out a long, slow breath, forehead resting against the cool wood. The air in the hotel room was still, almost suffocatingly quiet, as if it was holding space for the thoughts you were trying so hard to ignore.

Dalton was perfect. He was stable, kind, predictable in the best way possible. He was the kind of guy you could trust, the kind who would never make you wonder where you stood. And yet—

Your fingers twitched at your sides as you let out a groan, dragging your hands down your face. God, what was wrong with you?

You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Not Dalton—the other one.

Joe Burrow.

The thought alone sent a frustrated shudder down your spine. You barely knew him, and yet, he’d wormed his way into your brain like he had every right to be there. You could still hear his voice, that easy, smooth way he spoke, the sharp intelligence laced behind his words. And worse—you could still feel the way his eyes had lingered, like he’d been just as caught in whatever this was as you had.

Your chest tightened, and you pushed off the door, pacing toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. New York was alive outside, bright and fast-moving, everything in constant motion. It should’ve been a distraction. It should’ve been enough to drown out the storm in your head.

But instead, your mind pulled you back.

Back to Jayson.

Back to the last time you’d felt something like this.

You sucked in a breath through your nose, arms wrapping around yourself, like maybe if you held on tight enough, you could stop yourself from spiraling.

It had been years of push and pull with him.

You met him when you were nineteen—young, naive, willing to overlook the red flags for the sake of something that made your pulse race. And god, he had made you feel alive. He was charming, effortless in the way he made you want him, even when you knew he wasn’t good for you.

The highs had been so high. The stolen moments, the electricity, the kind of passion that made everything else fade into the background.

But the lows?

The lows had swallowed you whole.

The fights, the uncertainty, the way he could cut you down with a single look, a single word. The way you had needed his approval, his love, like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

You had been a wreck when it finally, finally ended.

And now, months later, standing in the middle of a quiet hotel room with the ghost of another man’s touch lingering on your lips, you hated that a small, twisted part of you missed it.

You hated that stability didn’t set your veins on fire the way recklessness did.

You hated that Joe Burrow had looked at you like you were interesting, like you were something worth figuring out—and it made you want.

You hated yourself for craving something that could ruin you all over again.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips as you sank down onto the edge of the bed, rubbing at your temples.

"You’re a fucking mess," you muttered to yourself.

And worse—you weren’t sure you even wanted to be fixed.

The bass of the club pulsed beneath Joe’s feet, vibrating through his chest like a second heartbeat. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the way the dim lighting caught the reflection before tipping it back and letting the warmth spread through his veins.

He wasn’t drunk—just loose enough to let his thoughts spill out.

“That was my shot,” he muttered, shaking his head as he leaned against the VIP booth, looking across at Sam Hubbard. “Tee straight up cockblocked me, man. Like, do you understand how rare that was? That was a moment.”

Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “You’re really hung up on this, huh?”

Joe gave him a look. “Wouldn’t you be? I barely get like this over anyone—and the one time I do, I don’t even get to ask for her number?” He scoffed, running a hand through his slightly disheveled hair. “Unreal.”

Sam smirked, stretching an arm along the back of the booth. “You know about her and Jayson, right?”

Joe’s brows pulled together slightly. “Tatum?”

Sam nodded, tipping his drink toward him. “Yeah. They were together for years—on and off bullshit. Public, messy breakup. It was bad.”

That gave Joe pause.

He knew of Jayson Tatum, of course—anyone who paid even the smallest amount of attention to basketball did. He was a star, undeniably talented. But what Joe didn’t know was that he and the Kelce sister had history. A lot of history, apparently.

Joe frowned, shifting in his seat. Something about that didn’t sit right with him.

Maybe it was because he knew exactly what kind of guy Tatum was. Not a bad guy, necessarily, but the kind who could have any woman he wanted at the snap of a finger. The kind who probably expected her to come back every time he left.

And she had, until she didn’t.

Joe let out a breath, shaking his head as he stared at the ice in his glass. “Damn. He fumbled, bad.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, well, she’s with Dalton now, so I doubt she’s thinking about it too much.”

Joe’s head snapped up at that, brows shooting toward his hairline. “Dalton?”

“Kincaid.”

Joe blinked, as if making sure he’d heard that right. “Dalton Kincaid? The Bills’ tight end?”

“The very one,” Sam confirmed, amusement playing at the edges of his lips.

Joe sat back, exhaling through his nose as he mulled that over. Dalton was a good guy. Solid. Reliable. Exactly the kind of guy you’d bring home to your family and not worry about them hating him.

But without meaning to, without even thinking, Joe muttered, “Don’t seem like her type.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And who does?”

Joe opened his mouth, then shut it. Because he knew exactly what he was about to say.

Me.

But he caught himself just before the words could slip, and instead, he dragged a hand down his face, muttering a quiet, “Fuck.”

Sam straight-up grinned. “Wow. Wow.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Joey B thinks he’s the Kelce sister’s type?”

Joe scowled at him. “Shut up.”

“Nah, nah, hold on,” Sam laughed, slapping a hand against his knee. “This is interesting.”

“It’s not interesting,” Joe bit back, shaking his head. “It’s just—Dalton’s a nice guy. A good guy. And she probably should be with someone like him.”

Sam’s grin widened. “But you don’t think she wants to be?”

Joe didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he thought about the way she’d carried herself at the event. How, even in a room full of the NFL’s biggest names, she hadn’t acted like a Kelce—at least, not in the way you’d expect. She hadn’t been loud or attention-seeking, hadn’t fed into the spectacle of it all. Instead, she had snuck away with Taylor, like she was bored of it. Like she was looking for something else.

And he didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but he knew what it felt like.

Familiar. Like he’d been there before.

Joe exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. All I know is that Tee cockblocked the hell out of me, and I’m pissed about it.”

Sam laughed, raising his glass. “Then you better make sure next time, you don’t miss.”

Joe clinked his drink against Sam’s, but as he tipped it back, he couldn’t help but think—

Next time, huh?

[meiozis]

sorry about the diabolical quality lol it was optimized for my presentation so i had to scale it down quite a bit for tumblr to be able to digest it but here's some pictures i took w a very small handheld camera obscura that functions as a pinhole camera :) i followed kelli anderson's method on making the camera and developing the pics w caffenol! and had an absolute blast working on my thesis project despite it all

would u guys like to see a gif of the 50x50 (or 20x20") real time working camera obscura i made for my diploma showcase

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 4

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.9K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), fluff, P in V, oral (female receiving), spanking, Dom!Terry *if you squint*

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

knock knock knock

I rolled over in Terry's bed to find his side empty. I leaned up from the comfort of his pillows and sat quietly for a minute as a quick form of meditation. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. My body felt a little restless. I yawned while stretching my arms and legs. I could hear voices coming from the front room. Lifting the covers from my legs, I slid out of the bed. I walked towards the bathroom. As I walked in I noticed multiple hygiene products, towels, and a fresh set of clothes had been left out.

Terry had to be one of the most thoughtful men I had ever met. It was the little things that added up for me when it came to him. His ability to effortlessly indulge in my humor— his ability to stimulate my mind and body in the most exhilarating ways, his dominant yet caring demeanor, his small gestures of kindness and consideration, etc. I was in awe of everything about him.

Last night, we talked and talked. Some conversations were harder than others, but certain moments made the night feel like taking a deep breath. Terry's aura was so refreshing and calming. I had never expected that level of vulnerability from him. He was open and honest, and every question I asked was answered. What would have been another night of me crying and drinking my pain away turned into a comforting moment with a — “friend”. Even though I did most of the talking, we shared personal stories and even talked about our dreams. It was as if we were both coming undone the more we talked— layer by layer.

Finishing up in the bathroom, I cleaned up my mess and placed my used towels in his laundry hamper. I walked out of the bathroom and returned to the bed. As I stood there, my impulsive thoughts got the best of me. I needed to make the bed—not because I slept in it but because I had to show my “value and worth.” I hated that my mother instilled those kinds of values into me. I always felt like I had to please people to be worthy.

As I was fluffing the pillows, the bedroom door opened. “Havana,” Terry whispered while entering the bedroom. “Yes?” I said turning to face him. I was standing near the bottom of the bed. “Glad you're awake. I made breakf—. Hey, you didn't have to make the bed,” he said walking up to me. “I know. It just seemed like the right thing to do as a thank you for last night,” I said smiling up at him. “Yeah, I think both of us needed last night. Thank you, mama,” he said kissing my forehead.

Terry reached out and grabbed my hand. He positioned himself behind me to lead me out of the room. “You rushing me out?” I giggled. Upon entering the front room, I could hear Terry sigh deeply. His hand felt warm to the touch and slightly damp. I could feel Terry’s chest rising against my back and hear every breath he took. Was Terry— nervous?

As he pulled me into the kitchen, I saw it. There wasn't only breakfast set up but a large bouquet of red roses resting on the island. I tried to stop walking. Terry gently nudged me the rest of the way. He leaned over me and grabbed the roses from the counter. I turned to face him with teary eyes. I couldn't believe it. I was honestly shocked by this gesture.

“I know you said a relationship wasn't on the table, but just hear me out. Ok?” Terry lulled while handing me the flowers. “Terry,” I whined. He leaned over and kissed my lips. “Ma, I really do like you. Last night, we talked about things I hadn't in years. Things I hadn't been able to say. Somehow, I was able to share that wit’ you. ‘Vana, I know you ignored me because you were scared. I'm okay with being patient, but I need somethin’. Whether that's a relationship in the future or a friendship now. I like you, and I want you, Havana,” Terry said assertively. His face was serious yet soft. “Terry, I would love to, but I feel like… like… Shit! I don't know anymore,” I mumbled, looking down at the floor. “Is it the fact that you still feel like we don't know each other?” Terry asked holding my chin. “Yeah, it scares me. What if—,” I started. “What if we go on a date, tonight?” he asked with pleading eyes. “Terry, I…,” I said trying to find suitable words. “Havana?” Terry said holding my hands in his. I looked down and watched as he used his thumbs to stroke the back of my hands.

“Fine. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” I said looking up at him. “Thank you, mama. It wasn't like you had much of an option anyway,” he said kissing me on the forehead. “See, this is why I can’t be nice to you!” I yelled hitting him in the chest.

*Later that night

“Do you like the food?” Terry asked while glaring at me. “No,” I said smiling while taking another bite of salmon. “Funny,” Terry responded smugly. I looked up and winked at him. His eyes had darkened slightly, allowing the hazel in his eyes to overshadow the usual green. The small flame of the candle at the center of the table flickered and intensified the goldish hues. They were captivating and low, almost hypnotizing. The last time his eyes looked like that we were—. I leaned up and cleared my throat. I sat up straight crossing my legs as best as I could under the table.

The restaurant was gorgeous. The dark ambiance added to the sexiness of the aura. The glass ceiling provided a marvelous view of the night sky. This— this was all I wanted. I wanted to be treated to nice dates without being the one to ask or plan. Fuck. This man was making it hard for me.

“You good?” I asked trying to break whatever this stare was. “Yes. How are you, mama?” he asked leaning over and resting his chin on his left palm. The look he was giving me only intensified with his movements. I shifted my body so that I was leaning on my hip. “Of course. Thank you, again. I’m sorry if I made things difficult,” I said placing my hands in my lap. I dropped my head. “No, ma’am. Eyes up here,” he said leaning over the table and gently nudging my chin.

He sat back down and placed his hands on the table with his palms upward. He nodded his head, motioning for me to put my hands in his. I raised my hands and placed them on top of his. The warmth of his hands was soothing to the touch. His fingers began slowly caressing the back of my hands. I was captivated by the tenderness of the way he touched me, as if every brush of his skin against mine was an unspoken display of affection. The strength in his hands was diminished by the way his fingers graced over mine. His fingers were light as feathers, and his touch seemed unreal. The world around us was moving at its own pace while we were locked into each other's eyes. Our gazes grew lustful by the second. I squeezed his hands gently and allowed him to continue his movements.

I knew where this was going.

“Okay, no more wine. I'm done,” I said pulling away and finishing my third glass of a Riesling white wine. “Yeah, I agree. If I drink any more of this Hennessy, I’m gonna be a problem,” he says finishing his fourth drink of the night. “I’m just glad we didn't drive,” I said sitting with my hands in my lap. “Same. If you're finished, we can leave now. No rush though, baby girl. It’s all on you,” Terry said smirking. That smirk had something hidden behind it. “What?” I asked. He paused for a moment before continuing. “Can you do something for me?” he asked softly while slightly leaning across the table. “Yes. And, what are you up to?” I asked sitting at attention. This man had me on high alert.

“First, my place or yours?” he asked glaring at me again. “Mine, and stop looking at me like that,” I said feeling hot. My body was sweltering. The middle of my thighs had to feel like a pool of honey— warm and sticky. My panties were ruined and all he had done was look at me. “When we get there remember this moment, okay?” he lulled. “Why?” I asked confused. The way he was speaking to me had me on edge. Every word sounded sweeter than the last. “’Cause when we get there, I'm gonna fuck you like I hate you. Like I've been holding a grudge against you and fuckin’ you is the release. I don't think you understand how bad I need you, baby girl. I just want you to know that. Understood?” “Y…yes,” I whimpered as a moan slipped from my lips. I was squirming in my seat at this point. “That’s not how you answer me,” he grunted. “Sorry. Yes, Daddy,” I said while rubbing my legs together. “That’s better, but you can show me how sorry you are when we get home,” he said leaning back into his seat.

*Later, back at Havana’s home

“I’m sor… I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, can I cum?” I whined. I wanted to touch him so badly, but he had tied my hands up using his suit tie. “I don't remember telling you to speak,” Terry said removing his fingers from my pussy and stuffing them in my mouth. I moaned around his fingers. “Shut the fuck up and suck,” he said pushing his middle and index fingers into my mouth. He was positioned on his knees between my legs. My back was arching off the bed.

He had already stripped me completely naked before we started, but he had chosen to remain shirtless with his pants unbuttoned and belt undone. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat was dripping down his chest in between his pecs and down his abs. He went back down again and dove face-first into my pussy. This time he used his mouth to cover my clit and sucked. His tongue flicked the underside of my clit vigorously. I was suffering under his touch— weak and desperate for any form of release.

I felt that feeling again. I was about to come, but I was too afraid to acknowledge it. The pit of my belly grew tight, and my mouth slackened around his fingers as he held them between my lips. “Uh oh, what’s that? Baby girl, you wanna come?” he asked leaning up while removing his fingers. He placed his fingers back inside my pussy and curled them upward. The moan I released was laced with pure desperation. “Yes, Daddy. Please!” I begged through fresh tears. This would have been his fourth time denying me an orgasm.

He slowly leaned over me. His chest hovering over mine. His left hand pushed down on the bed right by my ear. He was holding himself up so that he could look me directly in the eyes. “Eyes on me. If you look anywhere else; I'll stop, and we gone start the fuck over. I don't give a damn how close you are. Your eyes stay open and focused, ” he leaned over and whispered into my right ear. His lips were so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. “Please!” I begged again. “You better let me have all of it. Now, let's go!” Terry said pushing his fingers deeper inside me.

Every touch and plunge felt like I was on fire. His fingers produced an ache only he could relieve. In and out, in and out. He was pulling my orgasm from me by making a come here motion while inside. My abdomen locked, and I felt it coming. I wanted to look down so badly; however, I knew Terry would follow through with his threat.

My eyes remained locked on his. His mouth turned into a permanent smirk. His fingers were unyielding to the pain in my belly. “Let go, ‘Vana. Give me what the fuck I want,” he growled into my ear. His fingers relentlessly worked against the walls of my pussy. The tips of his fingers glided against my G-spot over and over again. The pressure was building, and I was suffering through it.

“Mmm,” I whined. The euphoria I was feeling made words inaccessible and futile. “You got one minute to cum or this little party is over, Mama. Better yet, fuck that. Maybe you need a little help,” he said dragging his fingers out of me, leaving my pussy clenching around nothing. I was spent as exhaustion coursed through my body.

Terry sat on his knees and grabbed both of my legs by the ankles. He peppered each ankle with feather-like kisses. “It's okay, Mama. Daddy's gonna get it. Just remember to breathe,” he smirked as he lifted me, placing me closer to the center of the bed. “Daddy!” I moaned out in disappointment. His eyes shot up to meet mine. “Shut that shit up! I don't wanna fuckin' hear it. You had your moment. Now, it's my turn!” he said standing up and pushing his pants and briefs to the floor. He stepped out of them and got back between my legs on the bed. His dick sprang up and bounced in the air.

He placed his hands on the tie around my hand and undid the knot. Finally, my hands were free. I wiggled my wrists in joy. “I wouldn't get too happy if I were you. You weren't exactly a good girl, Mama. Daddy's gotta do something about that. Don't I?” he asked holding the tie in his hands. He leaned over and grabbed the condom from the bed, ripping it open with his teeth. He glided it on effortlessly— a trained fuckin’ professional. He slid his hand through the slickness between my legs. He placed his hand on his covered dick and began to stroke himself.

“I… I don't know what happened. I tried. I swear it was…,” I said before he pushed the tie into my mouth. “Shh… It's okay, princess. Daddy's gonna fix that,” he grabbed my legs and flipped me over. He pulled me back so that his hard dick was now sitting right on my ass. I was tempted to grind on it, but I didn't want any more problems than I already had.

He spread my legs and pushed my head down. “So, we did all of that work for you not to come, huh? Alright, that's fine. You tellin’ me Daddy not doin’ enough? Is that what you sayin’?” he pressed his thighs against my body and pushed my ass further into the air.

smack

That was the first one right across my left ass cheek. I put my arm behind me and broke my arch. He leaned over me and snatched the tie from my mouth. He pushed me down using his body weight. Of course, he would tie my hands up again. “Lessons are learned through punishment,” he said holding my bound hands in one of his and using his free hand to rub my right ass cheek.

smack

smack

smack

smack

smack

I let out the most lewdest moan ever. The pain from each smack was met with the sweet aftertaste of pleasure. I yelped in between each sob. I wanted him to do it again. “More, Daddy. I deserve to be punished,” I begged. “Daddy's nasty whore wants more? Oh, you wanna be the perfect slut fa’ me, huh?!” he says rubbing his hand all over both of my ass cheeks. I nodded my head yes. It's as if I could feel him smiling.

“Remember, you asked for it!” he asserted.

smack

smack

smack

smack

smack

He let each hit rain down on me like fire. I was feeling it now. Both cheeks ached and throbbed. I tried to lay flat on the bed. “Where the fuck you think you going’, huh?” Terry said through gritted teeth. “I'm not done with you yet. You wanna be a slut for Daddy, right? Ass up, face down. You better not move, or I swear. I fuckin' dare you!” he said squeezing my ass cheeks as a reminder.

Without warning, he slid himself into my wet pussy. This was the first time Terry had me in the doggy-style position. His dick felt unreal against my walls. He felt both thicker and longer in this position. He corrected my arch to the point that it was painful and pressed his hand on my lower back to keep me there.

He slammed into me and pulled all the way out to the tip. Oh, God. I was well aware of what he was doing. He slammed into me again. Each time pulling out until his tip was all that was left inside me. He was forcing my pussy to feel and take every inch with every thrust. I felt him dip his hips upward and quicken his pace. His strokes never weakened.

He let go of my wrists to grab my hips. He was pulling me back onto his dick. I could feel the pulse his dick made inside me. I clenched my pussy around him. He yanked me back against him and began pounding my pussy mercilessly.

I instantly became a sobbing mess. “You ain't got shit to say now, huh?” he asked. His hips snapped against my ass with so much force that the sound reverberated off of my bedroom walls. “Take it, Mama. This my pussy, right?” he asked thrusting upward again. His hips were moving at the speed of light. My mouth hung open though no words could come out. “Mmhmm…” I moaned into the mattress. “Say it. I wanna hear you fuckin' say it!” he growled. “It's yours. Daddy, it's yours. This pussy is… ugh… it's all yours. Take…it…from…me,” I said slumping my head back into the mattress.

“Nah… I gotta prove it,” Terry said leaning over me. He placed his right hand on the front of my throat and secured his left hand through my arms behind my back. He yanked me upward. His chest was now against my back. He continued to punish my pussy. He leaned close and began to grunt in my ear. “Ugh, come on. Let's go, Mama. This my pussy, right?” he said kissing my neck. His hips just would not stop. The way he was doggin’ my pussy out had me gone. He pushed me back down on the bed and slid right back inside me. “Fuck, princess!” Terry moaned throwing his head back. He pushed my arch back into position again. Ass in the air, face in the mattress.

He pulled one of his knees up so that he was kneeling on the bed and began to thrust into me again. Terry wasn't giving me a breather, just straight fucking. I started to throw my ass back to match his rhythm. He grabbed my hips to steady his pace. His dick was kissing my cervix at this point. “Ya’ know what's funny…,” Terry laughed. “You said you could beat me on your knees. Well, you're on your knees right now. What's wrong?” he said taunting me. “Fuck you,” I whimpered.

BIG MISTAKE!

Without a word of acknowledgment, Terry started fucking me even harder. It was as if I had unlocked a monster. He pressed his hands into my back and wrapped them around my hips. He forced me to slam back into him. Every thrust was fucking me up, and I couldn't care less. This was what Big Mama needed.

I was keeping up with him, but every time I felt like we were equally matched; he'd started to fuck me harder or faster. “I'm sorry! Shit!” I moaned out with my face turned away from the mattress. “Fuck that! You said fuck me, right?!” he grabbed a handful of my hair from the roots. “Nah, talk shit now!” he grunted. He slowed his pace and began to slowly grind inside of me with deep hard thrusts.

Without warning, I started leaking all over Terry. My orgasm started to surge through my body. I tried my best to breathe, but Terry just kept fucking me through it. I couldn't focus on breathing— all I could focus on was coming and taking dick. Fuck it. If I died, I died.

I could feel Terry’s hips tighten. His strokes were still not getting sloppy. He was close, but not on edge. He kept thrusting into me. His hips were snapping against my ass hard enough that I expected to see a bruise. The grip he held on my hair slackened and he held onto my hips again. His strokes slowed but remained deep. I clenched my pussy around his dick hoping to help him get closer. “Ah, fuck. That's it, mama. Daddy's close. Stay just like this,” he said stirring my insides. “You gone be a good girl, fa’ me? Huh?” he asked biting his bottom lip. “Yes!” I screamed. His dick started pulsing inside of me. The throb of him caused my pussy to grip around him. “Here it comes, argh. Ugh! Shit! Fuck, Mama!” he said throwing his head back, slamming into me two more times. Holding each thrust deep, I could feel his nut fill the condom.

He held my hips until he came down fully. He pulled out of me and stepped off the bed. He looked down at the condom that was now loaded with his semen. “I hate I couldn't nut in you. It feels like such a waste, ‘Vana,” he said untying the knot that bound my wrists together. He removed the condom and walked towards the bathroom. “Terry, I told you—,” I started to say. “I know, Mama. I respect it. That's why I didn't fuss!” he yelled back into the room. “Thank you!” I yelled back at him. “But that's why we're both getting tested. I know it don't matter now, but I can't keep this up!” he yelled back. “Yeah, we really suck at keeping our mouths off of each other!” I laughed as I lay on my back. I gazed at the ceiling as I waited for Terry to return.

This man had singlehandedly given me the best dick I had ever had two times in a row. Each time exceeding the last. At this point, how could it get any better than this?

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites

@jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @ariiijestertheklown

@armandosbabymama @gg-trini @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @iburias

@androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna

@writingsbytee @nayaesworld @blyffe @helloncrocs @amyhennessyhouse

@beenathembo @thiccc-c @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris @qtmkenedy03 @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

@cocooned-butterfly

[erinfern0]

intoxicated.

simon "ghost" riley x afab!virgin!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, afab anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: soft simon and his darling spending a cute evening together on discovering your body, slowly falling more in love with being intimate.

warnings: soft simon obsession, two cuties in love, marks, kissing, fingering, etc.

a/n: based on this request! it's longer than i expected, but i hope you don't mind.

Simon was obsessed with you, smitten, enamored. Watching you lie there, completely bare, allowing him to get to know your body in such a different way.

Before, it was just light touches and prolonged make-out sessions. He adored the way you slowly unraveled in front of him, telling him exactly what you needed. As much as he loved your guidance, he was intoxicated with teasing you with it.

“Where, baby?” his voice was hoarse with arousal as you toyed with the hem of your t-shirt. Simon's fingers made tiny shapes all over your knees and thighs as he lay beside you on the bed, his arm resting under your head to have you even closer.

You mewled, “Simon…” as he pulled his hand away, seeing your thighs shaking in a silent beg for him to get closer to your already soaked, but clothed cunt.

For anyone else, it would be embarrassing how easily wet you get from those simple touches and his body right beside you, but with Simon, everything felt so good, so comfortable, you never felt that way.

The only thing except for the arousal that you felt was pure torture, laying down on your shared bed, watching him work you relaxed by teasing some of the most sensitive areas without touching the most important one.

“Shh, 's okay, love.” he cooed into your ear, moving his hand lower. He didn't even have to put any pressure for you to spread your legs open, draping one of them over his lap. “Where?”

Simon chuckled wholeheartedly, kissing your temple to praise you silently as he grabbed a handful of your inner thigh, just holding the soft plush of your skin in his palm.

Your mind was so hazed, almost dizzy, as you closed your eyes, feeling his nose draw familiar shapes on your cheek. You couldn't make up a coherent sentence in your head, so you just wrapped your much softer fingers around his wrist, pulling him toward your center.

As soon as his warm palm rested on your slicked panties, putting barely any pressure, allowing you to gasp hazily from his warmth. “There.” you choked out, a playful smirk on your lips as you opened your eyes again.

Simon's pupils dilated, catching your gaze. Dark browns now looking almost perfectly black, staring at you with so much affection it almost made you cum right there, like this.

“Cheeky little minx.” he groaned, his fingers gently playing with your folds over the cotton of your underwear. His voice made you gasp again, fingers tightening their grip on his wrist in an attempt to make his moves faster.

Simon just hummed into your hair, nuzzling his face into it as he moved your panties aside, collecting your arousal on his fingertips to spread it all over your swollen, twitching, aching clit.

Your hips started grinding against the sheets as if they had a mind of their own, adding to the pleasure coiling in your lower stomach. That's when you felt his lips leaving kisses in your hair and moving lower, to place some more on your neck.

The stubble on his face and the way it rubbed into you made you giggle, your free hand playing with his hair. Your actions, especially the way you tugged on his ends, made him groan into your exposed collarbones as he left marks on them.

“You're drivin' me wild.” he muttered while pulling his stiffened arm from under your head to kneel right between your thighs. His hair was a true mess, shaped as you played with it before, and his cheeks were flushed.

Towering over you, Simon leaned down to catch your lips, erasing the playful smile you had. The kisses felt hungry and sloppy as he swallowed every single one of the little moans that left you when he added another finger to soothe tight circles over your clit.

Your legs tightened their hold on his hips when you felt his bulge, pressing into your inner thigh. As your hand reached down to tug on his belt, Simon moaned into your mouth from how much you were tempting him.

His fingers slipped down your slit to circle your entrance. You pulled back from the kiss, cupping Simon's face to see his eyelids fluttering, brows furrowing in confusion.

Such a simple tease made him crave more of you, lips quickly following yours, but you turned your head with a chuckle. That little laugh of yours caused shivers to run down his spine, his head nuzzling in the valley of your breasts with a groan.

He didn't let your actions go unnoticed, his finger slowly easing its' way into your slick entrance, caging him inside with the greedy clench he loved so much. The soft, subtle wave of his fingertip pushing against your g-spot.

His lips latched onto your nipple, sucking at teasing it by grazing his teeth over it before adding another finger. You threw your head back with a sharp inhale.

Simon's head instantly jerked up to see if you were all right. His worry made you yelp in frustration as he stopped moving his fingers in and out of you. “You 'kay there, love?” he rasped, hiking up to make eye contact with you.

Grinding your hips, you nodded your head, catching your breath right before he moved his fingers again. His thighs were tensing underneath yours, trying his hardest not to grind too much against you. This was all about you.

Watching you trust him so much, lying bare and gasping so cutely every time he hit that sweet little spot that made you see stars. You moaned his name, tugging on his hair as you came.

Your choked gasps, tiny sobs and twitches of your thighs, and that tight fucking clench made him drunk, intoxicated with love and admiration towards you. His kisses on your tits turned into light pecks and nibs over your smooth, sweat-covered skin as he pulled his hand away not to overstimulate you too much.

Licking your slick from his digits, Simon slowly soothed your tired thighs with his palm, chuckling as he wiped your arousal away with his wrist. You exhaled deeply, pulling him in by his shirt to connect your lips again, tasting yourself off his tongue.

Your hands traveled under his shirt, teasing the toned muscles under your fingertips as he rested on top of you, supporting his body weight on his forearms.

It was soft, quiet, and warm, the way he held you, embracing you with not only his body on top of yours, but also his calming scent made you feel drowsy. His soft hums against your chest helped you sync your breathing with his, playing with his hair again.

It was perfect this way. Taking things slow and gentle, with someone you truly loved. You didn't need words to know just how much you two were intoxicated with each other. Falling asleep in each other's arms after such a wonderful time spent together was always the best way to end the day.

masterlist | request info

[luvsupa]

001 | WORK OF ART

tags: sugardaddy!nanami x fem!reader, smut, public sex-ish, toys used, age gap (nanamis late 30s and readers early/ mid 20s), petnames, nanami is in love with reader and her art, mdni.

w.c: 2.6k

a/n: UHMM GUYS THANK U SOSO MUCH FOR 600 FOLLOWERS?! EEKKK ILY GUYSSS 🤍🤍

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated!

the convention center quickly fills up at eight o’clock as hundreds and hundreds of rich people eagerly gather to see and purchase the artworks displayed by you and your fellow artists.

you’re already over the fact that it’s art display season, as obnoxious rich patrons approach your work only to mock it and its price. your coordinator has repeatedly stated that your specific artwork isn’t as eye-catching as the others in your group.

“your art can only sell for one thousand, and that’s pushing it,” your coordinator once said.

one thousand is quite a lot of money, but everyone else’s pieces are selling for five thousand and more! their bland artwork compared to yours shouldn’t be sold for that much—now i’m just sounding jealous.

all the artists stand at their assigned sections in front of their artwork as the paid guests slowly walk in, drawn to whatever catches their attention. you glance at your friend beside you as she wishes you good luck.

the room is brightly lit with led lights, giving it a clean and modern feel. soft, instrumental music plays over the speakers, barely audible over the hum of conversations. waiters weave through the crowd, offering glasses of champagne that clink as guests accept them.

you stand awkwardly, already expecting the nasty glares at your canvas. this year, you went for an erotic art piece titled “a woman’s high.” the painting depicts a woman in an abstract way, in the moment of climax, as a blurred-out male figure gives her oral sex, with the focus solely on the female.

“don’t you think this is quite… inappropriate for an art exhibition?” the middle-aged woman clung to her husband’s arm, both looking disgusted at your erotic painting. she leaned in to read the card with your name, pricing, and title, her brows raising in amusement.

“hah! one thousand for this? oh dear, this is a mockery to all the other talented artists here,” she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. the snobby rich couple found it hilarious, unable to control their laughter. “even i wouldn’t keep it if it were free!” she said as they walked away, still laughing as they moved on to the next pieces.

you stood there, their words stinging more than any you’d heard before. nearly five months spent on your painting, and this is how they treated you. damn that couple.

“your talent for oil painting is incredible,” a deep, husky voice said. you looked up to see a tall, middle-aged man with golden blonde hair slicked back, a few strands hanging in front of his beautifully sculpted face. he was looking at you—and complimenting your art?

you rarely got this stunned at one of your exhibitions, but wow. you shamelessly scanned his figure, muscles bulging from his white button-up shirt, a few buttons undone to show his toned chest. his black dress pants hugged his muscled thighs, and you gulped hard, eyes moving back to his-

“nanami! how great it is to finally see you!” your main coordinator appeared, twirling her hair awhile bombarding him with questions.

“there’s something i want to show you, but it requires us being alone,” she giggled, rubbing his arm up and down. you stood there awkwardly, not wanting to listen to their flirtatious conversation.

“i’m afraid i’ll pass. i’m more intrigued by this beautiful art.” he turned to look at you, making your eyes widen. no one had ever been this persistent about wanting to see your artwork. it made you feel giddy inside.

“oh nanami, this artist needs a lot of practice. i mean, look at the painting!” she pointed out, trying to embarrass you in front of this fine man.

“i wasn’t referring to the painting.”

oh.

“s-sir?” she stammered, both of you shocked at his words. he thinks i’m beautiful? he was very slick with that.

“and her skills are beyond amazing. the way she captures the perfect moment of the woman’s orgasm and highlights her expression—there’s no need for more practice,” he said, silencing your coordinator as he praised the parts of your art that he loved. you were still in shock at what had just occurred.

“however, there is one flaw about this,” nanami stated, and your smile slightly dropped. you were ready for him to treat you the same way everyone else had. your coordinator found an opportunity to bully you and your art even more.

“pfft, finally. i’ve noticed a lot wrong with her art—”

“the price,” he cut her off, pulling out a chequebook from his pocket and beginning to write. “how much?” you both gasped at his boldness.

“i-i…” you stuttered, at a loss for words for the first time, while your coordinator fumed. he chuckled at your reaction as he continued writing, then ripped the paper to hand it to you.

“i’d like for you to come see me later, beautiful,” he said, his smooth words leaving you hypnotized. and with that, he walked away as your coordinator followed him, trying to get his attention.

you stared down at the paper, your jaw dropping at the amount he was giving you.

10,000 dollars

holy fuck.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as the art exhibition continued on all night, you left your painting unattended- searching everywhere throughout the museum to find the mysterious man, nanami. hell, you even had to beg your annoying coordinator for his whereabouts. finally, she gave in.

“he’s going to his car, something about a gift for me!” she exclaimed. you didn’t buy it for a second, but you headed towards the elevator, stepping in to pressing‘P’ as the button illuminated. the doors closed, and the elevator descended to the parking lot.

the button stopped glowing as the doors opened, revealing the eerie parking lot filled with cars on every level. you walked out, your heels clicking against the cold concrete as you quickly rushed to see where he could be.

“are you following me?”

you stopped where you were, hearing his deep voice. you turned around to see his beautiful smirk plastered on his lips, holding his black jacket on his shoulder. fuck, he’s so hot.

“i just wanted to thank you so much for purchasing my art,” you nervously said as he eyed you down. you squeezed your thighs tight as the tension thickened.

“come with me,” he said, smiling as he formed a sinful idea in his mind. he honestly couldn’t control himself, thinking about how delicious you looked in your black mini skirt and white button-up shirt similar to his own.

cute, he thinks.

you wasted no time, immediately picking up your steps as he strode down the long parking lot to his car. finally, his car came into view—a luxurious sports car you’d only seen in movies and tv shows. how rich is he?

he unlocks the driver's door as you stand in front of his car, listening to the muffled chatter and honks of the city coming to life at night. from the corner of your eye, you see him pull out a box as he shuts the door, catching your attention.

"i want you to put this on," he says, walking closer and towering over you as he hands you the box. you carefully read it, and your jaw drops for the second time that night.

bluetooth vibrator.

"i-i can't, i have to be talking to people this whole night," you stammer, attempting to hand the box back, but he doesn't take it.

"that's the whole point, sweetheart. live a little- have fun." he coos, bringing his hands to cup your face, caressing it. "you always seem so serious. let me show you how to enjoy yourself." for the first time your body betrays you as you start feeling aroused by him.

shamelessly, you bring one of your free hands to pull his neck lower to your level, smashing him into a heated kiss. he smirks into the kiss as you suck harshly on his lips, smudging your lipstick onto his. nanami places you against the hood of his luxurious sports car as the box slips from your hand, making a loud thud on the ground.

"eager, aren't we?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension and desire.

nanami parts your thighs with his knee, allowing you to grind on him. your hips move rhythmically as you whimper into the kiss, growing wetter by the second.

he snakes his hand down to your thighs, moving his knee, eliciting a needy whimper from you. wanting more. he replaces his knee with his thick fingers, easily reaching your clothed cunt through your short skirt. he rubs your leaky slit through your panties, and you moan into the kiss. he pulls away, chuckling at how quickly you became this wet.

"such a good girl," he teases, his tone both patronizing and seductive.

you look up at him with needy eyes, craving more of his touch—more of him. you need him.

“i’ll see you inside,” he says, pecking your lips and sliding his hand away from your heat. he walks away, wiping the smudged lipstick off his mouth, leaving you sprawled out on the hood of his car. how can he leave you like this? you’re contemplating on whether you should continue on or leave- oh fuck it.

“w-wait, i’ll put it on,” you say, rising from the hood of the car and wobbling towards him as you quickly pick up the box. he chuckles, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. 

“my sweet girl, i knew you’d give in,” he says, turning around to see you almost losing your balance. he holds you steady as you start unboxing the toy, wanting nothing more than a good release from him.

you stare at the oddly shaped vibrator, confused about how to put it on.

nanami grabs the pink toy from your hand as he kneels to the ground. “may i?” he asks, wanting to insert it for you. you eagerly nod as he bunches up your skirt to your waist, and you stare down at him, watching his every move like a hawk.

he places a soft kiss on your clothed clit, making you nearly fall over. nanami swiftly tugs down your panties, and you step out of them as he rises from the ground, standing tall as he shoves your wet panties into his pocket. how nasty he is.

“geez, you’re soaking,” he points out, swiping two of his fingers along your slit and watching your arousal coat his digits. he brings the toy to your hole, aligning it with the tip before slowly inserting it. you hiss at the stretch of the toy within your velvety walls, the girth painfully good as you bite your lip hard, clenching rapidly around the silicone toy.

you whimper as he positions the other half of the toy against your achy clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to ensure it’s perfectly aligned with your sensitive nub. he’s determined to see you crumble.

nanami smooths down your skirt, pulling it back into place so no one can see the lewd things happening between you two. he retrieves his phone from his pocket and connects to the app, pressing the power button. your knees buckle as the vibrator springs to life, the dual stimulation nearly making you roll your eyes back at the slow, teasing intensity.

“you did so good, baby,” he coos, his praise making you hum in pleasure as he steadies your balance, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head. he increases the intensity, and broken moans slip from your lips. he finds your reactions amusing as he guides you back to the elevator, pressing the button and standing behind you, holding you in place.

“y-you clicked the wrong f-floor,” you manage to gasp, breathless. he chuckles darkly behind you, making your skin crawl. your eyes shoot up in horror as you realize he’s selected the floor where all the guests enter to get to the museum.

“oh, did I? silly me,” he says, a smirk evident in his voice. as the elevator doors open, you’re met with a small group of guests, including the middle-aged couple who had mocked you earlier. you feel a fleeting sense of relief as he finally turns off the vibrator, but the situation remains unbearably tense.

the elevator is packed with guests, and you’re pressed intimately close to nanami. the heat of his body against yours only heightens your need, as you’re unconsciously grinding against his bulge, desperate for release.

“nanami, i didn’t realize you were with her,” the familiar woman says, clinging to her husband. the bitch who flat out insulted me..

“mhm, yes, i am,” nanami replies smoothly, his hand slipping lower to discreetly control the vibrator. “have you seen her work? i think everyone should join. she’s got a beautiful speech prepared, don’t you?” he adds, his gaze shifting to you with a knowing smile. heads turn in your direction, intrigued by the fact that nanami kento is involved.

“oh, yes, i suppose i’ll prepare something as well—mmf,” you try to stifle a moan as nanami cranks the vibrator to its fullest intensity. you squeeze your thighs tightly, fighting to keep your arousal from dripping down your thighs.

“and what will it be about?” a businessman in the elevator asks curiously. you can barely focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure of the vibrator thrusting in and out at a relentless pace, your poor clit being ruthlessly stimulated.

“haven’t—hahhh—i haven’t f-finished,” you stammer, casting a pleading look at nanami, desperate for the torture to end. he only smiles in response, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction.

ding!

you’ve never been so eager for the elevator’s arrival. the guests say their goodbyes, but just as nanami tries to guide you out, you stop him, hitting a random button.

“what happened to speaking to everyone the whole night, hmm?” he says, his voice dripping with mockery as he gazes down at your dazed expression.

“fuck them,” you mutter, reaching up to kiss him, but he pulls away, eliciting a pout from you.

“such a dirty mouth—do you expect me to kiss you?” he says, bringing a hand to your face. you melt into his touch as he slowly brings his thumb to your mouth, smudging your lipstick. he rests his thumb on your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, looking sultry into his hazel eyes.

you take his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and slightly bobbing your head as if giving a messy blowjob. nanami watches, his blood rushing to his growing bulge as he takes in your bratty attitude.

you release his thumb with a slight pop, leaving it glistening with your saliva. nanami, shocked by your filthy display, grabs your face and crashes his lips onto yours. this kiss is hungrier, more eager than the last.

ding!

the elevator’s arrival chimes, and the doors start to open. your coordinator, her face a mask of horror, sees you two and screams in shock. she’s so upset that storms off. the doors quickly close, leaving you and nanami in the privacy of the elevator.

you chuckle at her reaction. “i have to get back, nanami,” you say, your hands roaming his chest, a whimper escaping as you remember the toy still buried deep inside you.

“you’re really gonna leave me like this?” he growls, referring to his raging hard-on. you chuckle, feeling a thrill at his reaction. “hmm, you can still toy with me the entire night,” you purr.

nanami reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a business card, his name and phone number neatly printed. “call me when you’re ready to leave. i’m not done with you,” he promises, making you feel excited for what he has planned.

you give him a quick peck on the lips and press the ‘open’ button on the elevator. just as you’re about to step out, you feel a sharp sting on your ass cheek. you hear him hum behind you.

oh how he’s going to cause so much trouble.. 

[plathfiles]

a quick felix smut drabble because i rewatched saltburn today.

smut! minors dni my praise kink is really coming thru

☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡☆彡

felix led you into the maze, it was pitch black and you were carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand and holding felix’s in the other.

“where are you taking me,” you giggled, a bit tipsy from the alcohol you’d been drinking.

“you’ll see,” felix replied, walking with you to the center of the maze.

there was a giant statue which made you uneasy. you dropped the champagne bottle on the ground, because felix’s lips were on yours in an instant. he pulled you close to him, a hand trailing from your waist to your ass cheek.

he squeezed your ass teasingly and you squealed. “felix,” you laughed, backing away from him slightly. “what love?” he smirked at you.

it was like a hunter had met their prey. he kissed you again, this time hungrily. and you kissed back, passionately.

a moan escaped your lips as he took his left hand and massaged your breast. he kissed down to your neck, definitely leaving a mark.

he moved his hand from your breast to your waist, picking you up in one swift motion and sitting you on top of the statue’s base.

“are you going to be a good girl and open your legs for me,” felix asked, moving his hands down to your thighs.

you nodded and opened your legs. his hand went around your thigh and his fingers grazed your clothed pussy.

“hmm already wet for me, darling,” felix said, as you stifled a moan.

you allowed him to take off your panties and bring them down around your ankles. still sitting on the statue, felix pulled up the bottom of your dress around your hips.

the metal was cold underneath you and he slipped a finger through your wet folds. putting pressure on your clit, he began to rub. you moaned into his neck as he watched your face fill with pleasure.

it aroused him, seeing how he made you feel. “that’s it darling,” he said softly. “no one can hear us out here so make all the noises you want,” he said.

you did so, letting lose in the pleasure felix was giving you. he removed his finger, making you look up at him with doe eyes.

“felix,” you whimpered. “I need you,” you said.

“I need you too,” he said. “need to be inside you,” he almost moaned.

with his erection fully grown, he instructed you to unbuckle his pants. removing his jeans and underwear, his member went free.

you took a hold of it, clenching around nothing. a moan escaped felix’s lips as you stroked his cock.

“ready for me?” he asked, moving closer into you. you let go of him and scooted closer.

“yes felix, need you inside me,” you said, still hot and bothered from his finger on your clit.

“that’s my good girl,” he cooed, aligning his cock to your entrance. he slipped through your folds and moaned.

“jesus fucking christ, you’re so tight,” he said, keeping still until he began to move in an out of you.

you moaned, leaning up to context your lips as he fucked you. felix held onto your waist, moving in and out of you at a medium pace.

you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. “i’m close felix—,” you moaned.

he groaned, pounding into you at a higher pace. “hold on a bit, you’re being so good for me,” he said.

“I want you to cum with me, okay lovely,” he whispered in your ear. His voice alone had almost made you combust.

“Yes, sir,” you said breathlessly.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his actions. He was close too.

“On my count…1…2…3,” he groaned, smashing into as he came in your pussy. You came on command, riding out your high and clenching around his cock.

Felix kissed your neck and cheeks, as you came down from your high together. After you were both finished he pulled out of you gently and kissed your forehead.

“You were so good for me, baby. Always know how to make me feel good,” Felix said softly.

[gor3-hound]

WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR FACE - NAOYA ZENIN

ft. naoya zenin x puppy!reader

a/n: commission for the very lovely @nexysworld !! naoya is so very pretty and i was scared to write him BUT !! he was actually very fun to write. i love my asshole nepo baby :3 hope you guys enjoy, fb and reblogs are always appreciated <3

cw: 18+ content, dead dove-ish, pussy inspection, mistreatment of hybrids, forced cosmetic procedures, dub-con bcs power dynamics, praise, degradation, use of shock collars, caging, mentions of filing teeth, ear cropping, touching unhealed wounds, tail play, misogyny, spit, mean naoya, dehumanisation, orgasm denial, forced spaying, p in v, creampie, dacryphilia, neglect

word count: 3.2k words

Naoya’s bored.

It might’ve made you feel better if he had a secret soft spot - that the pressures of his clan have left him lonely and desperate for companionship, but that’s simply not the case. There’s no profound self-realization that comes with his actions, no sense of guilt when he pays one of the maids to suck him off before he kicks her to the curb.

He’s just bored. He’s always found the best cure for his boredom was to find a pretty little plaything that was willing to put up with him. But there’s only so much you can do to a human girl before she’s skittering off. Women value their life more than their job these days, a thought that has him scowling and breaking the shit in his room as soon as his latest slut cuts him off.

He needed something more permanent. A pretty thing that he can use to get his dick wet. One that isn’t crying for a relationship or money when he’s finished. He’s always found those hybrids pretty cute, and it seemed like the perfect thing to keep him entertained. A girl that knew she was lesser than him. A pet he could play with that would forgive him after a couple of head scratches and a new toy.

It’s that thought that has him dragging his ass to the nearest adoption center, his eyes scanning the kennels until he spots you.

You seem like a shy little thing, but he doesn’t see an issue with that. He’s always had more fun breaking girls in, and you’d be no exception. He hums thoughtfully for a moment, his head cocking to the side as he looks you over. He doesn’t address you or ask you any questions, but he doesn’t need to. You were cute, and that’s all he really cared about, anyway. He calls a worker over, asking to get some time alone with you.

“Well, we don't really have any private rooms for you to-”

“How much?” Naoya cuts him off without even gazing his way, his eyes locked onto your form. No point buying the goods if he doesn’t get a trial run, first.

“I'm sorry?” The worker stutters out. Naoya hates that shit. Pisses him off more than anything, acting like he doesn’t want the Zen’in’s money. Naoya knows better.

“You heard me. How much? Doesn't need to be a fancy room. Shit, I'll take a storage room. I gotta check she's worth the money, y'know?” He says with a sigh, his brows twitching slightly as he fights back a scowl.

Seems to work well enough, because the worker leads him to a staff room, telling him to wait right there. He crosses his arms over his chest, making him sigh in annoyance. He waits impatiently, but he lights up when you come padding into the room, looking all nervous.

”No need to be scared, girl.” He tells you, but his words come out in a grunt. He doesn’t really care if you’re scared of him or not, as long as you let him get a good look at you. He moves towards you when you don’t budge, gripping your chin between his fingers.

His gaze is sharp, his dark brown eyes narrowed as he looks over your features. He reaches a free hand up to your floppy ears, giving them a flick. A frown crosses over his features as he gives you an appraising gaze , clicking his tongue. “They’ll have to get done. Don’t like ‘em.”

His fingers and thumb dig into your cheeks, forcing a gap between your teeth so you open your mouth. He shoves his fingers down your throat, sighing when you gag and splutter. “Gonna have to train that outta ya. Those canines are gonna have to get fixed, too. Bet they’d fuckin’ hurt if they caught my dick.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your spit off on your cheek, smirking when your nose wrinkles. He reaches down, tugging on your fluffy tail with a thoughtful expression. “That can stay, though. Cute.”

”Bend over the table, pup. Spread your legs, lemme see your cunt.” He orders, releasing your tail and taking a step back. Your hesitance irritates him, and his hand comes out to smack you across your face so hard that your head snaps to the side, your ears ringing. “Don’t make me say it again. I fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Your tail is tucked between your legs as you shift to lean over the table, those fluffy ears pressed down firmly against your head. Doesn’t bother Naoya. He kicks your feet apart, pulling your pants and underwear down in one tug. The tail is a little bit of an obstacle still, so he sighs and scratches behind your ears.

”C’mon now, baby. I didn’t mean it.” He coos, making sure he finds the spot behind your ear that has you pushing back against his hand. His tone is condescending, but that dumb puppy brain of yours can’t register that. He grins as your tail perks up and wags, showing you off to him. “That’s better. Lemme get a look at that pretty pussy.”

He kneels behind you, spreading your folds with two fingers, humming in satisfaction as strings of slick spread and break at his actions. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t pick out a puppy for that exact reason - a few words of praise, and you were soaked. He slips a finger deep into your cunt, adding another one and scissoring them open before groaning at the tightness. You felt like a virgin, too. Perfect.

He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wiping his spit off on your clothes before he pulls them back on. He gives your ass a few pats as he stands up, turning around to bang a few times on the door.

”Hey! I’ll take her.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Naoya’s unpredictable.

It’s hard to settle into a routine with him. He can be easy to handle one moment, only to switch up at the next second. He’s never kind - that’s not the right word for him - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his moments. If you’re good, he’ll let you curl up at the foot of his bed. Sometimes he’ll even let you sit at his feet when he’s relaxing, petting your head absentmindedly.

Those moments are few and far between. For the most part, he’s cold. He doesn’t pay much attention to you unless he’s feeding you or if it’s play time.

He shows you the most attention when he wants to play. He’ll praise you, scratch behind those freshly cropped ears standing tall on your head and run his fingertips through the fur of your tail until it’s wagging fast enough that he knows you’ll be pliant and eager for anything he wants to do to you. You’d tried whining, begging, pleading… Anything just to get him to look at you and show you some affection, but you quickly learned that the only way you could guarantee something from him was to paw at the front of his pants until he’s twitching against your hand.

His choice of affection has a bit of a side effect, and you’re unlucky enough that Naoya notices it. All it takes is one little ‘good girl’ or a scratch on your head for you to be soaked, whining and rutting against any part of him you could reach. He loves feeling you wrapped around him, but he loves teasing you even more. So, naturally, as soon as realizes how desperate his touch makes you, he decides it would be a fun little game for him to see just how needy you could get.

He’s leaning back against the couch when he spots you padding over, that fluffy tail slowly picking up speed the closer he gets to you. He can’t help but chuckle when he spots you settling on the floor by his feet, a smirk spreading across his face when you rest your chin on his thigh. Your gaze flicks up to his face, a longing expression on your features. His hand comes down to pet your head, fingers scratching your scalp gently.

”You need something, girl?” He coos, tugging on one of your bandaged ears until you whimper, biting back a laugh when you lean into the touch regardless of the pain that comes with it. You’re always so eager to please, it drives him crazy.

“Need you, please.” You whine, your ears tilting back slightly, unable to press flat against your head due to the wrapping keeping them up so they heal pointed. He grins wolfishly at your words, yanking you by the collar until you’re straddling his thigh, a mischievous going in his eyes.

”Go on then, pup. I’m too tired to deal with you myself. You can handle it, can’t you?” He hums, giving your head a pat before crossing his arms behind his head as he leans back on the couch. You give him a curious little head tilt, confusion twisting your cute little face. He loves it when you give him that look - you’re just a dumb puppy, nothing more than entertainment for him. He can’t help but feel amused, shifting his leg so he can press his thigh more firmly against your core.

”You’re a big girl, aren’t you? I’m sure you can figure it out, puppy.” You seem to get the picture, a soft, needy sound rising in your throat as the hard muscle of his thigh presses against your cunt through the fabric of your shorts. Your hips start shifting on their own, rutting against him desperately. Your mouth falls open, artificially rounded canines digging into the flesh of your bottom lip.

Your hands come down to rest on your own thighs - you know better than to touch Naoya without asking, and you don’t want this to end so soon. Your nails press into your flesh, leaving indents on the surface of the skin. Naoya’s face is a mask of indifference. There’s no sign of enjoyment from him, the only hint that he isn’t completely unaffected by your actions is the tent forming beneath the fabric of his pants. You whine when you realize he isn’t even looking at you, staring over your shoulder to look over one of the paintings on the wall.

You want him inside of you, want his strong hands to grasp your thighs as he fucks into you. The thought alone has you panting, your head hanging as your tail starts to wag again, steady behind you as you grind against his thigh more harshly. Your breaths come out heavier, your cunt soaking through the fabric of your shorts to coat his own pants.

You’re so overwhelmed with your rapidly approaching orgasm, how good it feels to finally be this close to your owner that you don’t see his hand reaching for his phone until it’s too late. You yelp as your collar zaps you, the fur on your tail standing on end as the shock makes you spasm, your hips quickly pulling away from his thigh.

”I didn’t say you could cum, did I? Bad girl.” He hisses, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you across the floor, forcing you into your crate with a swift kick. He slams the door behind you, locking it before stepping back. “You can stay there for the rest of the night. If I hear you so much as fuckin’ squeak, you’re not getting let out for the rest of the week. Got it?”

You nod quickly, but that’s clearly not good enough for him. He taps at the screen of his phone a few times before pressing his thumb down for a longer period. The voltage is higher, and he doesn’t let up on shocking you until you drop against the blanket in your crate, your fingers twitching. He scoffs at the sight, letting go of the button.

”Pathetic. If I’m talking to you, I expect an answer. Surely you’re not so stupid you’ve forgotten how to use your words?”

”N-no. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll be quiet.” You whisper, your voice shaking slightly with the effort it takes you to hold back tears.

”Stupid mutt.” He grunts, fiddling with his trousers until he can free his cock. His jaw tenses in slight annoyance at how quickly that has you perking up, your eyes wide with interest like he’s holding a damn treat up for you. He steps closer to your crate, pressing his length down against the bars above your head. Naoya can’t help but laugh as you try to crane your head to get a taste of him, his eyes shining with amusement as your tongue laps between the gaps to catch his skin.

”Look at you. You were crying a second ago, and now you’re drooling like a bitch in heat? You are the single most pitiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on.” He muses, letting out another chuckle at the whine that spills from your lips when he pulls away from the crate.

”Go to sleep.” He grunts as he tucks himself back into his trousers, his eyes trained on your as he takes a step back. “If you’re good enough, I might let you out for breakfast.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Naoya is wordless as he approaches your cage.You can tell from his narrowed, fox-like gaze that he hasn’t forgiven you from last night, his jaw set tight as if you hadn’t just made a small mistake. Naoya expected nothing but perfection from his pet, and it was something he made abundantly clear. He opens the door, his eyes narrowed in on your slumped over figure.

”Out.” The words are short and clipped, but firm, leaving no room to argue. It wasn’t a request, but a command. You weren’t stupid enough to ignore it.

He watches you crawl out of the cage, kneeling at his feet on the cold floor. You keep your gaze trained downwards, unable to meet his eyes. You look so pathetic it almost angers him, a crease forming between his brows as looks down at you. He slowly strips his clothes, his eyes locked onto you the entire time.

“Strip.” You listen, pulling your clothes off and adding them to his own pile on the floor. There’s no praise now, no attempts to get you wet enough to take him. He just pushes you down onto all fours before spitting directly onto your cunt as he forces his cock into your tight heat. It’s meant to be a punishment, but all it takes for you to get wet is the feeling of him stretching you out, your tail swaying side to side as his tip presses up against your cervix.

”Such a slut… Dripping as soon as you see cock. Bet it doesn’t even have to be mine, hmm? Could pass you around the whole clan and you’d gladly let each and every one of ‘em mount you until you were sore and dripping cum.” He spat, his hips rocking forward harshly. He builds up a steady pace, pounding into you brutally.

”Wouldn’t…” You manage to force out, brows furrowing as you try to rock back against his hips, your walls pulsing around his length. “Just you… want your pups.”

”Aww, that’s cute. You want me to breed you, girl? Is that it?” He lets out a cruel laugh, tugging on your tail to pull you back against him with each thrust, his cock brutally pounding into your tight cunt. “You think I’d let you carry my seed? That your bastard children could be sufficient heirs for the Zen’in clan? I’d never let you have puppies. Stupid fuckin’ bitch. Didn’t even realize I got you spayed? You just believe every little thing I tell you, huh?”

Fuck, he really likes the look of your tears. Nearly has him cumming from the way you look sobbing on his dick, the way you clench around him like you're trying to milk him dry despite how upset you are. It doesn't matter what he does to you, not when you're so forgiving. He knows he can say whatever he pleases and you'd still come running back to him, tail tucked between your legs like you were the one in the wrong.

He presses down between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest flat against the hard-wood floor as he keeps your ass in the air with his grip on your tail. With your back arched, the new angle allows him to fuck into you deeper, bullying himself into you without any regard for your pleasure. You were nothing more than something to use to him - a glorified fleshlight, at best. He only let you cum because of how tight you squeezed him when you did, how hot it was to see your dripping down his length.

This wasn’t about you right now - it was meant to be a punishment. You'd be lucky if he decided to let you cum in the following weeks, let alone today when he's still pissed off at you for almost breaking one of his rules.

His hips smack the fat of your ass with every thrust, low grunts spilling past his lips as he wraps your tail around his hand, smacking your thigh in frustration when you yelp at the discomfort that comes with it. He's increasingly glad with every pained whimper as his grip tightens that he decided not to dock your tail. It's so much better than a leash could ever be, forcing you back onto his imposing length everytime it gets too much for you and you try to crawl away.

“M'gonna cum.” He groans, harshly forcing your upper body further against the floor as he leans his weight on the hand pushing you down, slick sounds filling the room as he thrusts himself brutally in and out of your twitching pussy. He yanks on your tail, pulling you back against him as he cums with a grunt, his cock twitching inside of your abused cunt. He ruts his hips into you shallowly as he rides out his high before pulling out, smacking your ass once before standing up, ignoring your pleas to let you cum.

“Stupid mutt.” He spits out, rolling you onto your back with his foot, pressing it down against your stomach to hold you down. He spits on your face, a huff of laughter leaving him as your nose wrinkles. “I've been too good to you. Made you think you have a say.”

“You are a toy.” He continues, pulling his foot away with you before moving to gather his clothes. He pulls them on, leaving you panting and leaking his cum on the floor. “Something for me to use when I get bored.”

He makes his way to the door, shooting one last glance at you over his shoulder. “The quicker you learn that, the better.”

[waitforyrlove]

your name keeps being run by everyone, but specially for hades son ! chris and his fanclub.

the massive halls of Mount Olympus gleamed with their usual divine perfection: golden pillars stretching endlessly, clouds swirling lazily around polished marble floors. The reunion had been called to settle disputes between the gods, but as usual, their mortal-born children were dragged along, sat at their parents’ sides like ornaments—or pawns.

you—sauntered into the room, the soft click of your heels echoing. Heads turned as you entered, your golden accessories catching the light, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. You knew the effect you had on people. Even the gods glanced up momentarily.

Hades’ son, Chris, was already there, leaning back lazily in his seat at the far end of the table, his booted feet kicked up on the edge, arms crossed and a black backwards cap to go with hus baggy clothes. He barely spared you a glance, but the corner of his mouth tugged into a faint smirk, amused at the way your confidence filled the room like a perfume.

“Don’t you have your own entrance, or do you just love showing off?” Chris drawled, his voice low and gravelly, like smoke curling through the air.

you glanced at him, unbothered, and arched a brow. “I didn’t realize sitting in the dark made people so bitter.”

the gods around the table groaned softly, as if used to this kind of mortal bickering. Hades gave his son a sharp look, though his lips twitched into an approving grin. Aphrodite, seated next to you, simply rolled her eyes and whispered, “Don’t waste your time on him, darlin’.”

“I don’t plan to,”

before he could retort, another voice cut through. “Oh, don’t mind him, he’s just brooding as usual,” said Callista, the daughter of Athena, who was seated just across the table. She flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and cast you a sharp, disdainful look. “But then again, what else can you expect when everyone’s either in love with or annoyed by you, Aphrodite’s little darling?”

“Aw, Callista, didn’t realize I lived rent-free in your head. It’s flattering, really.”

Chris snorted under his breath, clearly entertained, though he quickly masked it by leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Can we get to the point? Or are we just here to trade insults?”

Zeus, at the head of the table, let out a booming sigh. “Enough,” he commanded, his voice reverberating through the hall. “We are here to discuss the increasing interference in mortal affairs, not bicker like children.”

the room fell silent, though tension crackled in the air like a storm waiting to strike. You caught Callista shooting another glance at Chris, her expression softening for a moment. Of course, she had a thing for him—everyone knew it.

but Chris? He didn’t seem to care.

as the meeting dragged on, you found yourself sparring with him again, throwing sarcastic remarks back and forth under your breath.

“You know,” you muttered at one point, leaning toward him with an infuriatingly calm smile, “for someone who’s supposed to be mysterious and brooding, you talk a lot.”

“And for someone who’s supposed to be charming, you’re a self-centered obnoxious little girl,”

wow.

by the end of the meeting, the gods were no closer to solving their problems, and you had made exactly one enemy and one reluctant sparring partner.

as everyone rose to leave, Chris paused, glancing at you with a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes. “You’re trouble,” he said simply, his tone somewhere between amusement and a warning.

“And you’re not as scary as you think you are.”

behind you, Callista’s glare burned into your back as Chris walked away, hands shoved into his pockets, a faint smile tugging at his lips, as Callista approached him.

you remained where you stood, watching the exchange from a distance, your curiosity piqued. Chris and Callista’s voices drifted through the air, low and intimate, yet laced with tension. You couldn’t help but feel a small, satisfied grin tug at your lips.

“You’re too patient with her,” Callista said again, her words slightly more insistent, a sharp edge creeping into her voice. “Don’t you think she’s—”

“—Playing games? Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Chris interrupted, his voice unbothered as ever. He took a slow step forward, his gaze shifting toward you for a fraction of a second before he returned it to Callista. “She’s always playing games. Doesn’t mean I’m going to get involved.”

Callista’s eyes narrowed, clearly frustrated by his nonchalance. “Then why do you keep letting her get under your skin? You think I don’t notice?”

Chris didn’t look at her as he spoke, his gaze focused ahead, clearly not fazed by her proximity. “You’re imagining things, Callista. You’ve got enough problems without making up new ones.”

Callista’s jaw clenched, but she refused to back down. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it. She’ll ruin you, you know. She always does this—charming her way through everything, acting like she owns the world.”

Chris’ voice was softer this time, more thoughtful, though his tone carried a warning. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

Callista let out a sharp laugh. “Well, maybe this time you should listen. Because I’m telling you, you’re not the only one she’s playing with.”

for a split second, there was silence between them. The soft rustle of the gods’ departing footsteps filled the space, but the air between Chris and Callista was thick with something else—unspoken tension. Chris’ face remained unreadable, his jaw slightly tense as he finally turned to her.

“Not everything is a game, Callista,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a rare weight to it.

Callista studied him for a long moment, a flicker of something softer crossing her face before her usual coldness returned. She shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe. But you won’t know that until it’s too late.”

Chris smirked, though it was devoid of humor. “Yeah, well, I’m used to dealing with too late.”

there was a long pause, and Callista finally turned on her heel, clearly done with the conversation but not entirely satisfied. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

as she walked away, Chris stood there for a moment longer, eyes scanning the grand hall, lost in thought, though the faintest trace of a smirk lingered at the corner of his lips.

from where you stood, you observed quietly, not quite surprised by the undercurrents running between the two of them. Callista’s dislike for you was no secret, and her sudden obsession with Chris only made sense. What surprised you, however, was how little Chris seemed to care.

his gaze flickered toward you again, this time meeting your eyes across the room. Without missing a beat, he pushed off from the wall and started to walk in your direction, that familiar, lazy swagger in his steps.

but before you could respond, Callista’s sharp voice called out from behind him. “Don’t forget, Chris!”

he didn’t turn around, his back still to her. “Forget what?”

“The offer still stands,” she called, her voice tense and clipped. “I don’t mind… helping you out.”

you saw Chris’ shoulders stiffen for a moment, and something in his expression shifted—irritation, maybe? Or something deeper? But he simply sighed, shaking his head slightly before turning to you.

“I need a drink,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone. And with that, he walked past Callista without a word, making his way toward you.

you leaned against the pillar you’d been resting on, a small smirk curling at the corner of your lips as Chris came closer. “You know, your little fan club is getting awfully loud,” you teased, eyes glinting with mischief.

he didn’t respond immediately, only stopping a few feet away from you, his gaze now more focused than before. The quiet tension from moments ago lingered between you two, though there was a faint curiosity in his eyes.

“Callista’s fun,” he said dryly, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “But I’ve had enough of her… advice for one day.”

you shrugged, a mock-pout playing on your face. “It’s not my fault she has a crush on you.”

Chris scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s what she wants you to think.” He glanced at you sidelong. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Maybe. But I have to admit, I’m intrigued by your… indifference.”

“Indifference?” he echoed, raising a brow. “Is that what you call it?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t feel like playing games with you today.”

Chris studied you for a long moment, then slowly exhaled. “Lucky for you, then, I’m not in the mood to play either.”

with that, he turned and started walking away, leaving you there with an amused smirk, the words hanging in the air between you. “Next time, I’m not being so easy.”

“Looking forward to it,” he muttered under his breath as he disappeared into the shadows.

© waitforyrlove. all rights deserved. do not copy my works. or modify my work.

taglist: @secretlocket @pearlzier @et6rnalsun @mattscoquette @carvedtits @sirenedeslily @mattslolita @flouvela @bella-loveschris @lovingregulusblack @sarosfilms @annsx03 @eliana-4200 @wakeupitschrizz @emely9274 @sturniolossss @sturnslutz @sturnlsstuff @sweetcowboycollection @sturnioloangell @marrykisskilled @wastelandzella

˙ . ꒷ 🪽 notes from author ˙— i have mixed feelings about this but send me your thoughts and characters i should be adding into this au and ur face claims ideas !!

[lilacliquors]

kinktober day thirteen: body worship

pairing: soldier boy x reader

word count: 588

notes: here's day thirteen! i made this one a bit softer and sweeter, just because i could use some of that right now lmao

it had been a long day, that much was clear. you and ben were in bed, simply laying next to each other in the dark of your bedroom. it was peaceful, and you felt him shift a bit closer to you in the dark.

“you still awake?” he murmured, his voice low and raspy.

“barely. sounds like you’re about ready to pass out, too,” you said, and he mumbled something incoherent. you felt his arm wrap around your waist, and his lips began to trail over your skin. you felt them under your ear, moving down your jaw and then down your neck.

“so soft,” he muttered, his hand trailing over your side. he listened to you hum, and he continued to kiss along your skin. this was damn near a nightly occurrence for the two of you. every night, he loved to wrap you up in his arms, hold you close, and whisper the sweetest things he could muster. it was a side of him the world didn’t get to see. the world knew soldier boy, the gruff and tough man who based in enemy skulls like nobody’s business. but you knew ben, a man who was rough around the edges, but showed you how much he loved you.

“god, you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing,” he continued, his hand gently caressing your side still. he pulled down your shirt a bit, exposing your shoulder so he could press his lips to the skin there. his hands traveled lower down your body, and one came to rest on your stomach, rubbing it gently.

“and you’re gonna look even prettier when you’ve got our baby growin’ in you,” he murmured, kissing from your shoulder to your collarbone. he shifted to hover over you, his lips trailing down your body as his hands went back to your sides, moving down to your hips and squeezing them gently.

“and these hips, god, i love ‘em. love the way they wiggle and sway when you walk. love how comfy those thighs are, the perfect pillow after a long day,” he continued, and he lifted your shirt to press kisses to your stomach.

“mm …” you hummed, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. it was always nice, hearing those little compliments. everyone had insecurities, and to hear him whisper such things made them fade away, just for a little bit.

“and god, these sexy legs. sexy legs, cute little feet that look so damn good in heels, boots, sneakers, you name it,” he said, grinning up at you as you laughed a bit. sometimes, it was a bit much, but you didn’t mind. you liked being the object of his affection, the center of his world, the one and only person he would ever treat like this.

it was like he had a purpose again. he wasn’t a vought puppet, a supe to dance on tv and sell shitty fast food or booze. he was ben, your ben, and that made life worth living in his eyes.

“don’t even get me started on that ass of yours,” he growled, his teeth playfully nipping at your thigh. you tapped his head with a chuckle, and he lifted his head to prop his chin on your stomach.

“could just fall asleep right here,” he said, nuzzling into the plush of your stomach.

“feel free to,” you reassured him, and he kissed your skin again.

“mm, don’t mind if i do. it also makes the perfect pillow.”

[banananutmuffin28]

HIII, I saw you were available to take questions about sub squid game woman so I knew this was my moment 🏃‍♀️ sooo sub Kang No-eul with a fem reader fucking her with a strap-on and all the dirty talk about breeding or something like that. I know it's weird but it was something that occurred to me a few days ago lol 😭 anyways, feel free to ignore this if you like 😽

(This was done with google translate sorry 🧃)

A/N: God, I saw this and then immediately had to move it to the top of my list omg. [This is fueling my lust for stoic women who have a secret pathetic side]. I tried my very best to keep her personality as canon as possible, even if she is a sub! Also, omg?? That is some very good Google Translate haha. What is your native language? Warnings: Smut, Dirty Talk, Use of a Strap-On, and a Breeding Kink.

A Happy Family--Sub! Kang No-Eul x Top! FEM Reader

Sweet, silky moans echoed across the walls of your bedroom. It pierced through the silence of the night, and joined alongside the chirps of the grasshoppers and the quiet hoots of the owls.

The clock adjacent to the wall nearest to you read midnight, though its gentle ticks could barely be heard above the delicious groans of your girlfriend.

A small, small part of you warned that if you didn't stop now, the two of you would be going until early the next morning and inevitably be late to your shift.

And yet...you still couldn't stop yourself from sinking your teeth into No-Eul’s supple lower lip.

The noise that left her mouth made your pussy pool with arousal.

No-Eul was writhing desperately underneath you, her face a blazing inferno and her neck slick with sweat.

The buttons of her jacket were open, allowing the fabric to hang loosely around her shoulder blades.

 The bottom of her gray shirt had ridden up, exposing her deliciously toned stomach. Her body leaned against your shared bed, sinking weightlessly into the mattress the further you trailed your gaze downward.

You couldn't help but grin.

Who knew such a stoic woman could unravel so easily under your touch?

Immediately, almost as if she had read your thoughts, No-Eul's skin flushed redder and her posture stiffened shamefully.

Frowning, you slowly pause your ministrations, shaking your head.

That simply wouldn't do.

"Come on, Eul, don't be shy," You coo, watching as tremors began to break out all along her body. "It's okay for you to be a good little slut for me."

Smirking, you ended that sentence by thrusting your knee into the center of her soaked cunt, feeling her juices seeping through her underwear and onto her pants.

Whatever protests were bubbling up in her throat died in an instant.

Without sparing another second, your mouth met with hers roughly. The kiss held no gentleness, instead exposing the terrible need you had for No-Eul. Her mouth parted open eagerly, allowing you to slip your tongue inside with little to no resistance.

You savored how her eyes went wide when you pinned her hands to the wall.

Already, you could feel her grinding her cunt against your thigh.

"Baby."

Your petname left her lips in a breathless gasp, causing your core to grow hotter.

Wordlessly, you let go of her right hand in order to slip your fingers under the thin waistband of her leggings.

As she eagerly spreads her legs, you begin to speak.

"Do you remember when we met, Eul?"

Your girlfriend paused, her squirming dying down as she tilted her head to the side.

Before she could open her mouth, though, you pressed a hot kiss to her stomach.

"You were so cold to me, No-Eul," You whisper, feeling your face twist into a pout against her skin.

Desperately, No-Eul put a hand in your hair and began to stroke your head.

"You know I was busy, baby," She murmured, lightly sinking her fingernails into the back of your neck. "I...fuck, I was so focused on taking care of our little one."

You smile, tugging her pants down in order to rest a finger on top of her clothed slit.

No-Eul's breath stuttered.

"Mhmm, but she was just your little one back then, remember?"

Teasingly, you run your hand up and down her pussy.

"I remember how hard I had to work in order to get you to trust me to help you take care of her, Eul."

"H...hey it was different back then and you know it," Your girlfriend weakly protested, trying futilely to grind herself against your stilling hand. This close, you could feel her heartbeat stuttering as she began to squeeze her thighs around your wrist.

"You...ah-y-you know I trust you more than anyone else now, love."

"Mhmm," You say, before finally pulling down her underwear so that you could plunge your index finger into her soaking cunt.

"And that's why I love you, Eul."

–

Kang No-Eul was never quite an expressive woman.

You, of course, knew that from the very moment you met her.

The two of you met in the amusement park; She served as one of the mascots while you manned a mini game stall for kids.

You remember trying to introduce yourself to her, only to be met with a simple nod and the sight of No-Eul turning her back on you in order to walk in the opposite direction.

...you would be lying if you said the action didn't embarrass you. But, despite that humiliation-and quite frankly, the budding anger-your curiosity also peaked.

You wanted to know more about her.

The longer you stayed, the more you learned about the other woman.

Her mouth was always pressed in a perpetual line, and unless she was entertaining children in the amusement park, she was practically emotionless.

No-Eul never joined the dinner parties your co-workers held on Friday nights, nor would she ever willingly engage in conversation with anyone.

Instead, everytime her shift ended she would always rush into her van and disappear until the next morning.

Your other co-workers told you to not waste your breath, and that it was just in No-Eul's nature to isolate herself from the rest of the world.

But, you were a stubborn thing, and continued trying to befriend her regardless.

It never quite worked.

Hell, you were sure that if not for you accidentally spotting her talking to a North Korean broker, you would have never pierced through her shell.

Even now, as you were sucking her swollen clit, you still couldn't help but smile at the memory.

No-Eul had been carrying a babe in her arms, arguing with a heavier man about the living situation of her daughter.

"You know I can't take care of her in my current state," She had hissed, her beautifully piercing eyes narrowing at the short man. "I live in my damn car, for fuck's sake. I need to make sure my living condition is stable before I can take her in."

The man had scoffed, shaking his head as he stood unmoving in front of the taller woman.

"No-Eul, I'm a broker for North Koreans, not some guy running a daycare. I can't keep entertaining a little baby while working with so many clients."

Had you not spoken up and offered to help, you don't think she would have ever opened up to you, nor would your relationship blossom to how it is today.

–

"Baby, keep going," No-Eul whined, interrupting you from your thoughts.

You blinked slowly, before a smirk spread across your face as you stared at the other woman.

No-Eul was naked now, her clothing lying somewhere on the floor.

Her hands scratched your back painfully, betraying just how much she wanted you to fuck her.

A heavy strap hung around your hips, the curved, black tip growing wet as it collected her juices.

Harshly, you grab her hair, relishing in how she gasped in surprise.

Ever so slowly, you circled her entrance with the strap-on, then stilled.

Her frustrated pants were like music to your ears.

"I'm not going any further unless you beg for it," You sing songed.

No-Eul groaned loudly, as if she was trying to mask how hard she was blushing with her grunts. Quickly, she began to push herself onto the cock, and her words morphed into a low whine.

"Do I really need to, baby?" She protested, gesturing to her red cheeks. "Isn't this embarrassing enough?"

You frown, and begin to pull away.

"I won't fuck you then, Eul."

"Wait!"

No-Eul yelped before you could say anything else, desperately digging her nails into your skin. 

"Shit, baby, don't leave after teasing me like this."

She closed her eyes, refusing to meet your gaze.

"It just isn't fair, baby."

You only respond by sucking the skin above her collarbone.

She gasped.

"Fuck!"

“You gonna beg now?”

Ever as stubborn, No-Eul grunted, and tried to rise up from her position underneath you.

You merely tsk, and lightly sink the tip of the strap on into her needy little hole.

The effect you had on her was immediate.

“Oh!”

You watched as No-Eul’s face contorted into one of pleasure. Her messy bangs clung to her sweaty forehead, and her eyes became half-lidded. 

Feebly, she pushed your back forward, trying to sink the toy deeper into her pussy.

A tiny grin danced on her lips.

“Yes, love, just like that. Good girl–”

Instantly, your hands gripped her shoulders roughly and you slammed the dildo into her. Her pussy squelched, and No-Eul’s breath hitched at the unexpected motion. Anger began to sift through your veins, and you began to pound in and out of her mercilessly.

 No-Eul’s eyes widened for a split second before taking in your expression. Something flickered in the depths of her irises, almost like–

Fear.

“You don’t get to command me,” You hiss, slamming the strap-on deeper into her tender cunt, and relishing in the frantic grunts it drew from her. Forcefully, you yanked a handful of her hair and began to pull back, all while not stopping your brutal pace.

“You are my little slut, you hear?” 

When No-Eul began to protest, you thrust the dildo even deeper inside of her, and clamp your teeth onto her pretty neck.

Almost as soon as you began, you started to slow, trailing kisses down her forehead as you drank in her moans. She continued to writhe on the bed, hips awkwardly thrusting upward.

“Why’d you stop?”

You raised an eyebrow.

"You know why, Eul."

As you paused, No-Eul's bottom lip began to tremble.

Fuck, you knew she was reaching her limit. After all, your girlfriend could only be edged for so long.

She stood still for a couple more seconds.

And then, you heard it. 

“...please.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it was uttered oh so shamefully that you couldn’t control the growl that escaped you.

No-Eul’s pretty eyes were closed and her face was pressed against your shoulder blades, clearly not wanting to be seen.

A Chesire grin started to worm its way up your lips.

“What was that, my love?”

No-Eul gritted her teeth, her face becoming fifty shades redder as she hissed into your chest.

Before she could retort, you started to thrust into her once again.

It was so easy to see how any bits of the ego she had left disappeared from that action alone.

Cursing, she tightened her hold on your waist.

“Please!” She whined, grinding her soaked cunt on the strap once again. “Love, stop teasing me please.”

No-Eul panted into your ear.

“I need it.”

It was as if an animal had been unleashed from inside you. Quickly, you began to rut into her pussy, thrusting into her as if your life depended on it. Below you both, the bed started to creak as you fucked her deeper into the mattress.

“Awe, now that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” You purr, nipping the lobe of No-Eul’s ear. “Don’t you wish you had said that sooner?”

“Shut…shut up,” No-Eul growled, though her voice held none of the conviction that it did earlier. She gritted her teeth, tears pooling in the edges of her eyes as her sore cunt took in more and more of your cock.

You re-adjusted yourself so that the dildo was facing the direction you desired. Then, you began to hump into her again

Filthy moans filled the air as No-Eul whispered pitiful pleas into your ear. Try as she might, she couldn’t quite stop the drool that fell from her lips, nor the little mess that became of her hair.  

“I’m going to fuck that brattiness out of you.”

The only indicator that she even heard you at all was the little nod she gave you before she threw her head back.

It wasn’t long before your breathing grew haggard, though you refused to slow your pace. 

Smirking, you press your face into her neck as you murmur, ”I’m going to put a fucking baby in you.” 

You didn’t miss the way No-Eul’s walls clenched around the strap-on.

Her eyes flickered open, confusion and want mixing together in her irises.

“What? But, that’s not a real–”

“Hush,” You hiss, roughly squeezing her breast in your hands. “Focus on the way I’m pounding into you, Eul.”

You sunk your teeth into her skin.

“Don’t you want me to make you a mommy?”

No-Eul’s whole body shuddered, and she clamped her thighs tighter around the strap. Sometime during the mayhem, her fingers intertwined with yours, letting you brush her knuckles.

No-Eul couldn’t speak anymore, choosing to instead nod eagerly against your chest.

“Imagine that,” You coo, blowing your hot breath against her collarbone. “We’ll have another little one running around our small apartment. Don’t you want that?”

Her pussy seemed to grow impossibly wetter, if the squelches were anything to go by.

“Yes, love!”

A familiar tightness began to coil in your lower body, making you speed up. 

And, by the way her breathing quickened and the almost desperate way she jerked her hips towards you, No-Eul wasn’t far behind.

“Cum all over my cock,’’ You growl, jutting into just the right spot. You rested a hand along her stomach, patting it gently.  “Let me put a baby in here, Eul.”

“Do it,” No-Eul all but shouts, as cum begins to coat the strap-on. “Please, baby.”

You moan as an orgasm rips from you, trailing down your thighs and falling onto the bed beneath. Gently, you help her ride out her high.

You didn’t care about the damn mess. You could clean it later. 

No-Eul collapses onto the mattress, with you following suit not long after. She pants, watching as you unbuckle the dildo from your hips and crawl onto her.

“You did so well, No-Eul. You were such a good girl for me.’’

No-Eul only grunted, trying to pretend that she didn’t glow from your praise.

“Never speak of this again,” She grumbles at last, the vibrations of her words tickling your skin.

“Oh? So you don’t want to talk about giving our little one a sibling?” You giggle teasingly, watching as your girlfriend sighs into the embrace.

“You know what I meant, baby.”

“Mhmm.”

You shift to spoon her, and pepper soft kisses all around her pretty face.

“I know, Eul. And, I can’t wait to grow our little family.”

[simp2537]

Darkling x breeding kink + spanking?🙈

Marking

a/n: My motivation has been low as of late, and my life has gotten really busy as of late. Also I’m really liking my tidemaker! Reader that invented so I’m gonna used her unless specifically told otherwise or if I just feel like not using her. As always hope you enjoy.

Warnings: breeding kink, spanking, dom!Aleksander and sub!Reader, safe word is not established but is their, p in v smut, dacryphilia, war room smut, tidemaker!Reader

Aleksander Morozova x fem! Reader

You weren’t sure if it was the hard wooden desk digging into your bare hips, the relentless pounding of Aleksander cock inside your dripping cunt or if his harsh hand landing in your ass was what sent you to tears. Your hands grinned onto the desk, trying to center yourself as Aleksander took out all his pent up frustrations of the day on you.

It had not been a good day for your lover. First the king had been particularly nauseating, the grisha were still unsafe as always and to top it off some new noble man made a move on you in front of him. Loyal as you were you denied the man and went to go to him only for the man to touch you.

Aleksander grunted as he felt you grip his cock deep inside. Your moan and gasps were bouncing off the wall and he hoped that everyone would hear. His hand landed hard against the angry red of your ass. You jolted as his opposite hand dug its way through your hair, pulling you up slightly.

He sucked up your neck, biting and leaving marks in his wake. You moaned as he began to suck on the sweet spot of your neck. His gently lowered you back into the desk that moved with every snap of his hips. His free hand moved to your pearl, rubbing fast and steady circles on the nerves. Your moaning increased as he kissed at the back of your neck. His hand colliding with your red ass.

“You’re doing so well for me milaya.” Aleksander praised as your tears hit the desk. You babbled cockdrunk as he hit that spot that always left your mouth gaping.

“I’m gonna shove my cum so fair into your cunt that it takes and everyone will know you’re mine.” The coil inside you tightened the eating to burst. Your moan grew higher, louder, more erratic.

“Sasha! I’m gonna cum- Sasha! Please!” You begged as he smacked your ass again. His over composer began to dwindle as he groan his thrusts growing fast as his own organism grew more apparent.

“I can’t wait to see you swelling with our child. All round and so full of me, all mine. Mine.” He grunted as you whimpered. With a cry of his name you came hard. His own release happening right after. You both panted as he pulled himself out. Your mixed juices dripped onto the floor until her shoved his finger in.

“Don’t want to waste anything, right my Tidemaker?” Aleksander sighed as he kissed your neck. You mumbled softly, not having the energy to be much of a brat. After a while her pulled his finger out and sucked in your combined juices. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap.

He scrapped his kefta over your bare form and kissed your forehead. You nuzzled into him as your eyes dropped.

“Do you think my seed will take?” Aleksander mumbled in between kissing your neck.

“If it doesn’t we can always try again.” He chuckled a smile landing in his face. His darling Tidemaker, always so eager.