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thebestofoneshots · 8 months ago

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No Sweeter Innocence than Our Gentle Sin Pt.1 | Remus Lupin x Reader

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader

Word Count: 8.6 k

Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them.

Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him).

Warnings: SMUT, Non-apt for Christians(?). Reader is a little cynical (or maybe cynical Af). Suggestive talks, touching oneself, fingering. Reader seduces a Priest (so whatever you might expect from that), hierophiIia, corruption!kink, praise!kink (if you squint). Consent is sexy!

Proofread by lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Part 2 is out now!

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

ACT I: Remember to keep holy the LORD’s Day

You really didn’t want to go to church. You had one hell of a week and you were incredibly tired so when you got the phone call with your grandma inviting you to go, you were about ready to say no.

But your grandma has always been extremely catholic, and while you weren’t anymore, you hadn’t seen her in a while, and you missed her. Her being in town for your short vacation was a good enough reason to visit her more often (she was staying with your parents) and if you’d have to live through a whole hour of some boring priest talking about all the things that are wrong with society nowadays, then you would. Even if you didn’t want to.

That didn’t stop you from being cranky over the fact that you’d have to wake up extra early to take the 40-minute ride to the church she claimed “was the best one in the city,” according to her priest back at home (of course she couldn’t just ask you to the nearest fucking church).

Breathe, you told yourself. This is for your grandma, you repeated as you sat on the narrow seat of public transport, next to the gym bro that smelled like he could use a shower and whose massive arms would bump into you whenever the bus went through a pothole.

When you finally reached your spot, you had to wake him up so he would move his massive legs to the side and you could fucking pass through, walking down the bus in the sea of people that for some reason had taken the same one. Once outside you took a deep breath and tried to relax again. You didn’t want to look as pissed as you felt when you finally saw your grandma. At least it was a fucking cloudy day and you wouldn’t have to deal with the sun as you walked the 4 blocks left you had until you arrived at the church.

Who the fuck would invent a church so goddamn far from everything important? You wondered as you approached.

Oh, you thought once you saw it. Someone who wanted a lot of space then.

The church was massive. And while you might have been prone to exaggerate when you were pissed, you were far from exaggerating now. It was almost a small castle, maybe the largest church in the city, certainly the largest one you had seen in your life (not that you had seen a great many but certainly a few).

On the outside, there were very many intricate details carved, a few gargoyles at the top in a very Notre Dame-esque sort of way. Except while Notre Dame ended in a very square and neat way, the towers of this one extended far above the roof and ended in a pointy, almost menacing sort of way. You had been so absorbed by the intricate details of the tower, that you didn’t realise you were walking straight into someone.

“Uhh sorry,” you said as you stumbled back, pulling your gaze from the structure and towards the person right in front of you. You were absorbed by him the second your eyes met his: golden brown, almost shining with the way the sun was hitting them. You weren’t sure you had ever seen a more perfect person in your life, they were exactly your–

“I see you’ve met Father Remus!” Your grandma said as she grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back from him a couple more steps.

Father? He’s married? You wondered until you noticed his clothes, all-black suit, white necktie, she meant Father as in Priest?!?

The man –Remus– smiled, gentle, sweet and caring. “Nice to meet you…” there was silence. It took you a second to realise the man was expecting your name, and you gave it to him, fast and still slightly disoriented.

“Come on, angel,” your nan said as she pulled you towards the entrance. “We can talk after the mass.”

“Nice to meet you, Remus,” you said, turning up your most charming smile as you waved goodbye to the man. His eyes seemed to trail on your hand, but your grandma pulled you again, and you were forced to turn around.

“It’s Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Right, sorry,” you said, almost carelessly, not carelessly enough for her to notice, though.

“I’m glad you came, I don’t think any of your cousins made it.”

“Oh, it was nothing, Nan,” you said as you turned around to see if Remus was still around. He was not anymore, you turned back to her. “It’s lovely to be here with you.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie, you liked spending time with her, she was lovely. But you did not like going to the church, you had long parted with the catholic ideals and you weren’t interested in most of the archaic teachings of the church. Especially the homophobic ones, you thought the closed-mindedness of the church was a terrible thing, and that it stopped many people from being who they truly were, not to mention how it affected a lot of people you knew. It was because of that close-mindedness that some of your friends had to hide themselves from their parents. Because god forbid their children were gay.

Now, not everything about the church was bad, some values were good and important, but at this point in the progressive world, perhaps the bad outweighed the good. And in the end, religions were just a way of controlling the masses, no surprise the church service was called “mass”.

You could have made a list of everything that was wrong, in a very Lutheran manner, sent it to your grandma and never attended again, but she was old and you knew there was no way she’d understand, especially when she’d been conditioned to think a certain way for far more years than you’d been alive. So instead, you decided to sit through the service with her, and make her happy, rather than be the rebel you sometimes wanted to be.

Ah the service, it was boring until Remus came out. If you thought he’d look handsome in the cassock, you could have been awestruck when you saw him wearing that white alb. Yes, those Sunday school days had taught you enough. He wore a cincture around the waist that matched the alb, and you’d swear you deserve hell when you pictured yourself pulling the entire thing off him in a secret corner of the massive church. In the middle of mass, while the head priest kept talking about things related to Jesus and how he saved someone or whatever, you were thinking of calm and collected Father Remus, losing control and giving in to the lust of the flesh, and all of it for you.

A small smirk played on your face as you thought of all the things you’d like to do to Remus, of all the sounds you’d have him make. Was it sinful? Perhaps. Did it warrant hell? Most likely. Luckily, you didn’t believe in hell any more than you believed in heaven.

And then it came to you. The idea that would certainly warrant a hell of a lot more than your lewd imaginings. If stealing was a sin, then how sinful would it be to steal something from god? To pilfer one of his men for yourself?

What an ungodly thing to do, so devilish that perhaps you wouldn’t be in hell to be punished but rather to punish. Was it perhaps a revenge for being forced into church for so many years, for having to sit through hours of Sunday School and the indoctrination you had to put up with but somehow managed to see past? Yeah. But at this point, you weren’t sure you cared. Something about Remus had sucked you in like a moth to a flame and you wanted to cling to whatever that was. Otherwise, you might have not be able to go through with your plan.

It wouldn’t happen all in one day, it couldn’t happen all in one day. It had to be slow, steady, and repetitive, like the snake tempting Eve, like Eve tempting Adam. You hadn’t seen yourself as a sexy woman throughout your life, at least not the kind of Sexy Femme Fatale that men seemed to live and diе for in movies. No, you had never been like that, and you wouldn’t start today. But you would perform the most outrageous and strong act of seduction you had ever thought of and it had to be done perfectly, or you wouldn’t get what you wanted.

What was it that you wanted again? Right, you wanted Remus Lupin.

ACT II: Thou shall not steal

“When was the last time you confessed?” Your Nan whispered as she leaned onto you, people were already standing for communion.

You hesitated. “I’m not sure, Nan.”

She hummed in return, clearly disapproving of your distancing from the church. You were sure she would have called you heathen if you said the truth, it had been years.

“I could go up and confess now,” you said as you looked at the confessionary in the back, you had seen Remus enter it, but you suspected it was too soon to start with the plan.

“No darling, repent for your sins and you can confess later. Perhaps after mass.”

“Or during the week,” you said with a knowing smile.

“Isn’t it a long way from your apartment?”

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it anyway.”

She stood up and took the communion, leaving you sitting on the chair and looking at the way people would walk toward the altar. Judging them, if that made sense. There was a woman who accommodated her breasts back in her seat before standing up, she threw a look at one of the other priests as she took the host. You gave her an approving sort of glance before you turned to someone else. Now you didn’t exactly consider her way of seducing appealing, but then again, yours wouldn’t be much better either. So to each their own. The man behind her had been touching himself in the very back of the church and had stared at her ass throughout the entire line, probably for more material.

Sinners, the church claiming to be so saint, and it was full of them.

You weren’t much better than them either, the difference is that you didn’t harbour the same hate towards yourself for it. No, you knew what nature was and you knew that despite how much we humans pretended to be better, we still were all animals. And there are a few things that animals want and need. Love, or the act of love, was one of them. That’s what you’d be using to your favour.

When your Nan came back, you helped her kneel and do her praying; all the while you attentively looked around. Remus had left the concessionary already and he was at the front with the rest of the priests. He spotted you looking at him and you smiled kindly, innocently at him. The kind of smile someone with the thoughts surging in your head wouldn’t be able to give, and yet, you accomplished it seamlessly.

He gave you a courteous nod and you reciprocated it. The rest of the mass was as boring as you’d expect it to be; except for the fact that Remus was looking at you rather often, either he was curious about their new parishioner, or he was interested. Either way, you were sure you’d be able to use that in your favour.

When the mass was over, you had to wait for all of them to exit the church first and then you helped your Nan stand and walked with her towards the entrance. Remus was there, giving short blessings and handing out some pamphlets about donations and other similar stuff. Your grandma was the one to pull you towards him. “What a wonderful mass,” she said. “Father Ernest was onto something when he told me to come here while I was in the city.”

“Thank you,” Remus said bashfully, you could almost see him blush at the praise. What would a real blush look on him? You were dying to know.

“Wonderful indeed, although I would have liked to hear your interpretation of the verses, Remus,” You said.

“Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Oh, it’s fine. If it feels more personal you may call me just Remus, dear one.”

You tried to hold back the snide smile you would have thrown your Nan had it been any other woman. You could call him Remus. You were a dear one.

“Right, perhaps another day,” you added with a smile and pulled your grandma to the side so the next person could take the blessing.

“I preach on Wednesdays,” Remus said, tone borderline desperate, as he raised his head over the people and women piling around him. Clearly, you weren’t the only one to harbour a little crush on Father Remus. It didn’t matter though, because you’d be the one to have him.

Next Wednesday you didn’t make any plans, and you put on something simple but elegant. A squared-neck shirt and a pair of jeans. When you arrived at the church, you didn’t waste as much time admiring it, instead, you decided to walk straight inside. His mass had started already, and you sneaked in through the side until you reached the third row of seats. There weren’t as many people as you’d expect on a Wednesday, but Remus was preaching like there were hundreds. He was wonderful.

He had a way with words that made you want to listen, perhaps if you weren’t so cynical, it would even convert you. But rather than thinking of his prayer, you were thinking of how incredible he would be as a teacher, you imagined the students, squirming for him and his words in their seats. You imagined the older, more daring girls going after him. You were lucky that wasn’t the situation, the kind of woman that could seduce any man had the benefit of practice that you didn’t. You wouldn’t have stood a chance against them.

But the kind of woman that went to the church, the kind that flocked to him at the end of mass, they weren’t a threat. They were too pious to try anything even remotely similar to what you had in mind. In fact, you even dared to think you were lucky that he had been a priest and not a teacher because then he would have perhaps been married, and while you were willing to take a man from god, you would never take one from another woman. You had limits.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.”

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.”

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.”

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.”

“The way I see it, Saint Gryffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see the beautiful priest Remus.”

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been carved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and exiting the church.

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be.

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his attention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

ACT III: Thou shall not Covet someone else’s property

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray.

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?”

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.”

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was.

Almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.”

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?”

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you?

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps corrupting him would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you.

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you.

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end.

“I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.”

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.”

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.”

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–” Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.”

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it.

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.”

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course.

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–”

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.”

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him, Father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.”

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man.

“I didn’t stop him when he pinned me against the wall, and I didn’t stop him when his hand dug under my shirt. I said nothing when it travelled to my breast, and I all but moaned when he pinched my nipple.”

“That is enough, I get the idea.”

“But that’s not the whole dream,” you protested, you sounded mortified. How could he stop your repentance for his own misguided thoughts? A man of God wasn’t supposed to harbour this kind of feelings for a fellow human, he was not meant to like you so much, and his pants were not meant to be as uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to go onto the details–”

“But Father, I must repent for all of my sins.”

Remus sighed, “Go on then.”

“And then when he reached down, oh Remus, I spread my legs for him rather than shut them close…” you didn’t say a thing. You could hear his breathing had gotten a lot more ragged. “He slid this hand through my knickers and touched me, that place that should only be touched by your husband. And… it felt good. I moaned his name until my voice went hoarse in the dream. I saw him pump himself and woke up as he rubbed his cock onto my folds.”

There was a sigh of relief when he thought the story was over. “It is good that you repent–”

“The worst part is yet to come.” You said, and you breathed. “When I awoke, I felt a wetness between my legs. My underwear was moist and the stickiness had rubbed onto my legs. I know I shouldn’t have done it, Remus, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. I wanted to know if it would feel as good as in the dream.”

“Child.”

“I reached down and repeated the actions the man had done to me. My fingers weren’t as strong or secure, but I found a spot that felt incredible, and I kept touching it, rubbing it, circling around it.”

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in an almost painful way. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned.

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dеad and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.”

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it.

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood.

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?”

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.”

ACT IV: Thou shall not commit adultery

Remus couldn’t stop thinking of you since that day. He’d get boners with the mere thought of you, with the idea of you going back to his confessionary and telling him all the lewd things you had done while thinking of him again.

He thought of you in the shower, and he thought of you in bed, and he thought of you while praying to try and take his mind away from you as well. He knew he was in deep trouble and he had no one he could talk to about his problem.

He had avoided touching himself, but it was hard and it was painful to ignore the throbbing sometimes, and he had to give in. Gently brushing his hand on top of his trousers until either it subdued or he came, completely forgetting who he was and thinking only of your hot lips in his and your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you in the exact same way he’d had you in your dream. A dream that had now become as much his as it had been yours.

The next Wednesday he was nervous. Bouncing his leg while he had breakfast and playing with his nails while he read the verse he’d have to give that day. His breath was stuck in his throat as he started to preach and he waited. And waited as he spoke and looked at the door and then back at the bible held between his hands and then back at the door.

You didn’t go to church that day.

Naturally, he was mortified. Thinking he had done something wrong, thinking he had scared you and thinking he’d pushed you away somehow. Thinking you were too scared to see him again after those lewd dreams, thinking –God forbid- you had chosen a different church to attend.

So when the next Wednesday you showed up with a small skirt (the smallest you had ever gone to church with) and a simple preppy-looking sweater he couldn’t help but be both relieved and terrified, all at the same time. You had tinted your lips red, not enough for it to be lipstick, but enough for them to look raw and bitten, and while your hair was perfectly put together, and your makeup right in place, there was something about you that screamed danger.

You sat right in the very first row. There were like 5 other people in the massive church that day. Someone sitting in the middle. A couple of old people in the back and a few others scattered around. No one young, and no one near the front either.

Oh, what a terrible thing it was that you were about to do.

Remus was quick to dismiss his deacons, asking them to go fetch something while he preached mass and they gave him a courteous nod while he started talking. As per usual, you listened attentively, paying close attention to the things he said, and despite yourself, often finding the things that you disagreed with. You realized he could barely take his eyes off you, and you slowly, spread your legs. Only a little, only enough to get his attention. You saw the way he licked his lips, and went back to talking. And you smiled. You pulled your ass back and opened yourself a little wider before crossing one leg over the other. You accommodated your skirt with your hand, slow and steady. Pulling your skirt up to show more skin before pulling it down and settling it in place, but only after he’d noticed, and seen as much of skin as possible, all the while, pretending to be doing it all innocently. Like you hadn’t worn that small skirt on purpose and like you hadn’t taken off your knickers and placed them in your bag in that public loo before walking inside the church.

When the mass ended, you saw Remus disappear into the confessionary. Onto the confession side. You saw him look around and then get inside, nervous as if scared to be seen. Probably trying to run away from you. When you made sure that there was no one left, you walked inside the other side. He was hunched, elbows leaning on his knees and head hidden between his hands. You thought you had gone too far since he looked like he had been crying, but you quickly realised he had been praying instead.

Sure, he’d have complicated thoughts, but your plan was meant to be fun for the two of you, and you wanted him to enjoy being corrupted as much as you enjoyed corrupting him.

“Remus,” you said tentatively. “Are you okay?”

He gasped and turned to the small division, he couldn’t see you, but you could see him perfectly. “It’s you.”

Rather than replying you cocked your head to the side. “Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess,” you joked. He gave you a stern look from the other side, a reproaching sort of look as if he wanted to tell you how terrible it was for you to impersonate a Priest, but he didn’t speak. “Or should I speak of mine first?”

“Please don’t.”

“Then sing, little bird.”

Remus huffed. “I’ve been thinking about a woman, non-stop.”

“A church woman?”

“I’m not sure if she really is a church woman anymore.”

“A devil?”

“No.”

You smiled, “Then, what’s so wrong about thinking of her?”

“I’m no ordinary man. It’s against my beliefs.”

“To think of a woman is against your beliefs?”

“To think of her in the way I’ve been thinking of her.”

“Which is?”

“As terrible as your dream, my darling.”

You smirked at that, biting your lip so hard you might have drawn bIood if you hadn’t stopped to say something else. “So you’ve been thinking of kissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Of touching me?”

“Yes,” he said, strained.

“Of fucking me?”

Silence.

“Have you thought of the sounds I would make, of the sighs and moans and groans?”

He closed his eyes, a deep frown etched on his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I used your confession to fuel my imaginations, to satisfy my carnal desires to–”

“That’s okay.”

“It is not!” he responded, distressed.

“Remus,” you said simply. “I wanted you to think of me,” you admitted. “I wanted you to think of me while you touched yourself the same way I thought of you while I did it. The same way I’ve been thinking of you while doing it, in fact.”

His head snapped your way, he seemed mortified, but you could also see one of his hands being brought down, adjusting his pants.

“Do you want me to tell you how I do it?”

“No,” he lied.

“Are you sure? I won’t ask again.”

He looked to the side, red from shame. He bit his lip. “Tell me.”

You smiled, “I lay in bed, and then these images come to my mind, I think of you, of your hands. They’re touching me, they’re everywhere. I don’t know where you ended and I start and I love every bit of it. It’s my hands that travel down my thighs but I think of them as yours. It is my fingers that slide in between my folds but I believe they’re yours.”

“Fucking hell,” he said, his grip on the wooden latch, grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. You peered through the blinds and realised the tent in his pants.

“Remus,” you said quietly. He turned to the wooden division, gaze strained, eyes filled with guilt, he was looking for you, but he couldn’t see past the squares and the small, shadow of you that got through. “Touch yourself.”

It was soft, the way you said it. Soft like a suggestion more than a command, but neither of you doubted it was the latter. And as if it had been a command from God himself, he listened and did what told. He patted himself over his black pants and hissed at the strain he’d been on. It was almost painful, how constricted and trapped his cock had been.

“Soft,” you said then, watching, resisting your own temptation to dig your hand under your skirt. “Be kind to yourself, Remus, you deserve it.”

He listened, and continued to rub himself, passing his hand back and forth and allowing it to help with the strain. “Te” –he stuttered– “tell me how you feel.”

“The inner side of my legs is soft, incredibly so,” you said. “I get chills when I run my hands close to my core.”

“It’s wet,” you said then. You had dug your hand under your skirt now. “Really wet.”

He could hear your breaths getting sharper, he assumed you were also touching yourself on the other side and he could barely think properly, barely command his hand to do what it needed to do to help himself.

“That looks painful,” you said as you saw him continue to rub himself over his trousers. “Take yourself out.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Touch yourself with your bare hand, Remus.”

He seemed like he would protest, so you decided to give him some encouragement. You placed your finger between your folds and brushed over your clit, emitting a soft moan, “Please.”

Just like before, Remus followed your command, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his boxers down enough so he could pull himself out. You smiled. “So beautiful, aren’t you?” you praised from the other side. He was long, thick and standing proud. He was hesitant at first, but he eventually placed his hand around himself. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I’d forgotten how good it feels.”

Of course, he had been a teenager once, of course, he had touched himself while feeling terrible for doing so and having grown up in a Christian household.

“Remus?”

“Yeah?” he asked, as he pumped. Slow and steady, as if he didn’t want to go too fast and show you how easy it was for him to cum at the thought of you.

“You’re making me insanely wet, I might have ruined your comfy little chair here.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“No, I’m being a good little lamb that tells no lies,” you said in response. “Ah… fuck.”

“What was that?”

“Just thinking of how incredible your hand would feel if it were doing what mine is?”

“Which is?”

“Shhh…” you said. He stopped moving. “You hear that?” you asked. It was a lewd wet sound. “It’s my finger, coming in and out of myself.”

Remus moaned your name and bit his lips. He came in his hand before he had time to really visualize you. “Ugh,” he said as he looked at the mess he’d made all over his hands, some of it also on his pants.

You took a handkerchief from your bag and passed it over your legs, collecting some of the sticky stuff between your folds and then you passed it through the small, opened section. Crossing your hand, the one with still glistening fingers over.

You knew he’d noticed the second his eyes opened wide. “So you clean yourself, I used it for myself too.” He bit his lip and carefully took it from your hands, and cleaned your fingers with it as if he tried to wash his sin by cleaning your equally sinful fingers. But he didn’t bring his cum covered hand even close to it. Let alone his cock. “What? You think it’s gross?”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he said as he brought it close to his nose and sniffed, stifling a moan with the fabric. Now you were the speechless one. “Do you have a napkin?”

You somehow managed to pull a napkin from your bag and handed it over to him through the same place. He used that to clean himself and placed it neatly folded in one of his pockets.

“Can I keep this?” he asked as he held the handkerchief between two fingers.

“Yes,” you almost stuttered. You had never seen a man do something as ridiculous –and hot– as what he’d done.

“Will you disappear again, angel?”

“Angel?” you asked with a smirk, “I would think you’d see me as something else, a devil, perhaps.”

“Impossible, a devil wouldn’t be able to show me heaven like you did today.”

Speecheless, again. This man really could bring you to your knees. “Do you even want to see me again?”

“More than anything on this earth.”

“Fine then, I’ll come to confess tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

ACT V: Thou shall honour your Mother and Father

After the heat of the moment, Remus felt the sudden urge to repent, to throw away the handkerchief and to pray in bed until his knees were raw from how much he’d been kneeling. And he tried, but even as he prayed he knew how pointless it was. The act of repenting, of praying and being forgiven for your sins, only worked if you actually felt regret over what you’d done.

But Remus was far from feeling remorseful. He had repented a great many things throughout his life. Not trusting his innocent best friend and blaming him for things that had happened, not doing more for the world when he had the chance and smaller, pesky things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelash about but that he constantly put himself down for.

But having done what he did on the confessionary, hearing your small moans and the lewd sounds that you’d made for him, telling him what to do and how to do it, that he didn’t regret. On the other hand, he wanted to do it again. You had taken him to heaven and he was eager to see it again. And he did it, repeated the same actions, it was cold and dark and there was no one even close to his room when he pulled that handkerchief out and placed it on his face. Smelling the scent of you while he pulled himself out of his pants and jerked himself for the second time that day. He came with the thought of you at the confessionary and your name muffled by the handkerchief that he refused to move from his mouth. By the end, he was sore and delicate and he felt like he had pushed himself too hard, but he found the most peaceful sleep afterwards.

When he woke up again, he was still covered in his own cum and he had to wash the sheets of his bed in his sink before anyone noticed what he had done. The shame he felt diluting as the sun rose, and he imagined you coming back to the church. He pictured you in that small skirt you’d worn yesterday, or in the simple dress you’d taken the first time that you went to hear his mass. But he was not expecting to see you walk in the clothes you’d worn.

A white dress, long enough to reach mid-thigh, and made of soft sheer fabric layered one on top of another. He might have been imagining things but he would have sworn he could see your nipples perk through the thin fabric when you turned to him, a small, innocent smile on your face as you threw him a look and walked inside the confessionary. An angel, you really were an angel.

“Pretty thing, you’ve come back,” he said as he too walked in, this time taking the side that belonged to him, he loved that he could see you.

“I promised, Remus.”

“I know, angel. But I’m always scared I’ve dreamed you up, that you’re not real and that I was just imagining you all along.”

You smirked and pushed your hand through the small hole connecting the two of you, “I’m very real, Remus, you can touch me.”

He did, he placed his hand on top of yours and you heard a sigh of relief when his thumbs pressed onto your hand. He was careful and kind, passing his fingers over your knuckles and under your palm in a soft, gentle manner that was sending shivers down your spine. This poor man was breaking down for you, and yet he was the gentlest of them all.

“You really are,” he breathed. He didn’t know if he should be happy that you were real, or horrified by the things he’d done for you, of the things he’d do. His faith? He might have been willing to throw it all away for another chance to see you, for another chance to feel your hands, for your lips, your kisses. How could he believe in a God that had given him nothing, when you were here, willing to give him everything?

“Yesterday I saw it all and you barely got to hear me, I thought of showing you my sins rather than describing them to you today, is that okay, Father?” That last bit was a taunt, in the same way you’d been taunting him since the very beginning.

“Yes,” there was no hesitance, if anything, you would have only described the waver in his voice as excitement.

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that pulled from your lips, Remus’ breath hitched as you accommodated yourself in the chair. Leaning back and spreading your legs for him, letting the soft fabric of your dress fall in between your tights and slowly show the outline of your legs.

“When was the last time you saw a woman naked?”

“In real life? Never.”

Your head snapped to him, although all you could see was the outline of a shadow through the dark-edged wood, “Never?!? Pictures?”

“When I was around 15.” He admitted. “My best friend Peter once took a few magazines to school after the break. He said his father had gotten them for him on his 14th birthday and that he told them to take them back before his mother noticed. I barely remember them.”

“Did you jack off to them?”

“I stole a page,” he admitted with a bitter laugh. “It was this girl with a forest-green, transparent robe. I took her home with me, my father found it and he was enraged. He called me a monster and drove me straight into church.”

“The priest there took a look at the image, and made me kneel down on the rocky floor and pray for forgiveness. I don’t know if he forgot, or if he did it on purpose, but he said not to stand until he came back and he didn’t come back until 7 hours later.”

“My god,” you said. Remus didn’t even think of reprimanding you for taking his name in vain. “That must have been awful. Your parents were terrible.”

Remus shrugged, “It’s what I was used to,” he added when he remembered you couldn’t actually see him, although you could feel his hands tense at the thought.

“That means, since then… you’ve never even–?”

“No,” he admitted softly. “I guess it’s easier not to do something when you don’t know how it feels. Although my best friend was always eager to tell me how good it was.”

“Worry not, you won’t have to use your imagination anymore,” you said as you pulled your hand back into your area and moved it to the thin strap of the dress, slowly sliding it down, he could barely see the valley of your breast, and yet he felt himself start to tense, his cheeks heat and bIood rushing south.

“You don’t have to–”

“But I want to,” you said, turning your gaze from your bare shoulder and towards him, he could see the mirth shining in your eyes, he could see the mischievousness and the licentiousness reflected on your pupils. You pulled the other strap down and then moved both of your hands to the fabric at the top of your breasts, pulling it down and letting them in full view.

Remus breathed sharply when he finally saw them. Of course, he knew what they looked like, the girls in Peter’s magazine had shown him. James had described them, but that was nothing compared to seeing them in real life, it was nothing compared to seeing yours in real life.

You smiled at the little to no sound he was making from the other side. You leaned your back on the stunningly carved wooden wall of the confessionary and squared your shoulders for him. “They look like this for you,” you said as you slid your hand over one of your nipples. “They turned hard the minute I spotted you at the door.”

Silence, nothing more than a ragged breath.

“Cat got your tongue?” You teased.

“I had never seen a prettier thing in my life,” he said. “Except for your angelic face, that is.”

You laughed in return, a sweet and soft laugh that he would have done anything to hear again. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never done it.”

“Good at what?”

“At making a woman blush.” You said. “But I’m just as good,” you added as you pulled one of your legs up on the small seat, your dress fell over and bunched up covering your core, but Remus barely even cared, he was immersed in the plushness of your thigh, imagining how it would feel wrapped around his waist.

You heard him swallow thickly.

“In my dream,” you started, “In my dream, we weren’t here, we were hiding somewhere in the church.” Your breath had slowed down, one of your hands was playing with your thigh, the other one on your breast. You didn’t usually pay much attention to them, but it was that you knew his eyes were on you, that touching them, knowing how it must have made him feel, was turning you on even more than before. “You were kissing me –ah– you were touching me.”

Remus was, by now, having to adjust his extremely uncomfortable pants.

“How?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “Show me how I was touching you.”

You couldn’t even hold back the smile from your face. “You traced your fingers over my thigh,” you placed your hand on your bare knee, and then started to move it downwards, towards yourself. “You were kissing me here,” you added as you leaned your neck to the side for him to see better. And then… you touched me here.” Your hand was already in your core. You moved the ruffles of the dress to the side, allowing him to see, to see all of you. You heard a small gasp, when he noticed you had worn no knickers.

“You slid your hands on my slit,” you said and followed your own instructions, “Soft and gentle, like you are when you’re preaching. In the same way that you moved your delicate slender fingers over the bible,” you breathed, a little more ragged now. “You slid one of your fingers in between my folds, and looked for my clit. You found it almost instantly, and you rolled your finger over it gently, you loved my whimpers.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I imagined them while touching myself last night. Those wet little sounds you make when you–”

“Ah,” you breathed as you dug your fingers inside yourself, your walls tightening around it involuntarily. “Like this?” you asked and smiled, biting your lip before you did it again. You brought the hand on your breast downwards and leaned back a little so you could spread your legs even further. Remus’ mouth watered, he wondered how wrong would it be to taste you?

To bury his head in your legs and lick all of the wetness that coated your fingers, to be so close that the smell of you got everywhere, that he wouldn’t need the handkerchief to feel you close. You continued to touch yourself. Breathing heavily, sighting and moaning softly, he wondered what that would feel if it were directly whispered into his ear.

You were so lost in yourself for those first few minutes, so wrapped in the feeling that you hadn’t realized the lack of beautiful moans from his side.

“Remus–” you said breathily, “Why aren’t you touching yourself?”

“Yesterday at night I– I did it again… a couple of times. I’m, it’s a little painful,” he admitted shamefully, but your eyes shone with lust so intense at his words that he continued talking. “It was your little handkerchief’s fault. I was going to wash it, but I got its scent and it made me feral.”

“Aha?” you asked, as you continued to touch yourself.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Shut my door and laid on my bed with it over my nose.”

You hummed contentedly, half a moan, half a hum.

“I was so hard it was ridiculous. I had barely even smelled you. I hadn’t even gone through the images of that wonderful dream of yours.”

You sighted in bliss, breath ragged as you slid your finger out of yourself and turned to him with a smile.

“I have an idea,” you said and then let out a breathy laugh.

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ohbueckers · 4 months ago

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WHAT’S MY NAME? i heard you good with them soft lips. yeah, you know word of mouth. the square root of 69 is 8 something, right? ‘cause i been tryna’ work it out.

THIS IS PART ONE! part two here. pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, rihanna and drake made this fire ass song 14 years ago and i’m about to put it to good use ok… this also isn’t proofread i’ll probably go over it later? warnings, just loads of tension, sexual innuendos, no smut yet.

“kk, get ooooout!”

“no! you don’t get to steal my tutor and then kick me out the dorm,” kk argued, not budging from her spot on paige’s bed. laid on her tummy with her feet propped up in the air, it didn’t seem like she had any intentions of moving. because she didn’t.

paige rolled her eyes sassily, ponytail swinging behind her head as she bit down on her lip, thinking of an easy way to get kk out so she could possibly get some play. you know, put those rizz hands to good use. let’s just say she already contemplated picking the 5’9 girl up and tossing her out.

paige let out a dramatic sigh, shifting her weight to one hip as she crossed her arms. “why you always gotta be so difficult, bro?”

kk smirked from her spot, still kicking her feet lazily in the air. “because you make it too easy. come on, p, what’s the big deal? it’s not like you’re actually gonna study. you don’t even need it.”

paige shot her a glare, only angrier because it was true. her grades were stellar, and her gpa was looking better than most of the team’s. but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use some… extra help. especially when the tutor in question was ridiculously pretty.

half-tempted to retaliate with a pillow, paige squints at her before there was a knock at the door. her eyes widened. she’d been hoping for at least another few minutes to strategize. without thinking, she darted for the door, fully aware that kk was hot on her heels.

they both reached for the handle at the same time, their hands colliding.

“move!” paige hissed, her voice laced with all the attitude as she tried to nudge kk out of the way with her elbow.

“no, you move! i’m doing you a favor,” kk retorted, playfully leaning against the door so she couldn’t open it.

the blonde felt her patience wearing thin. “kk i swea—”

before she could finish, kk swung the door open, and they were both greeted by a pair of deep brown eyes that made paige’s thoughts momentarily short-circuit. standing in front of them was a girl with caramel skin, curly hair pulled into a loose ponytail, and a confident smile that made her forget all the words she’d been ready to throw at kk.

liana, a junior here at uconn, stood there holding a notebook, a tote bag of any other needs slung over her shoulder. she was completely unfazed by their little showdown, deciding it was probably normal for them.

“hey, liana,” kk greeted her with a warm smile, all casual and cool, like this wasn’t the most awkward situation ever.

paige, on the other hand, was still struggling to get her brain back online, looking a bit flabbergasted before finally clearing her throat. “uh, hi, liana.“

liana smiled, her gaze finally landing on the blonde. somehow, she wasn’t able to pick up on her nervousness. paige never got nervous. well, maybe a few times… and now. “nice to meet you. kk mentioned you needed help in algebra, right?”

“right.”

the two girls stepped aside, inviting liana in. she immediately got busy situating her things on the table by the door, opening her bag and taking out a laptop, some books, and a few different writing utensils. as she arranged everything with methodical precision, paige and kk stood behind her, watching her work.

“you gonna be a good girl?” kk teased, her voice sarcastic with a slight whine.

before blondie could respond with words, she hit kk in the stomach, earning a dramatic groan. she shot her a glare before heading to her seat, watching as her teammate made her way to the back.

liana settled into her spot next to paige, opening her laptop and flipping through her notes. the blonde leaned back in her chair, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, but her eyes kept drifting back to the girl in front of her. there was no way she missed her on campus for two years, and kk of all people was the first to find her.

paige’s attention adverted to the books, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the amount of stuff she’d brought over. “you only tutor algebra?”

liana immediately shook her head, finally settling on a notes page and flipping it open. “no, i basically do any class i’ve taken. i’m good at it, and it makes me extra money, so..”

paige nodded slowly, still processing. “makes sense. that’s a lot of stuff, though. you planning to teach me everything in one night?”

liana chuckled softly, the sound light and easy. “no, just prepared for whatever you might throw at me. better to have too much than not enough.” their eyes locked, faces a bit too close to be considered normal. “right?”

“right,” paige echoed, her voice almost a whisper as she quickly pulled back, clearing her throat and trying to regain some refocus. she figured she’d be doing a lot of that tonight.

they started working through the material, and almost an hour had passed at this point. paige had yawned about three times, apologizing after every single one of them. as liana started explaining the next problem, paige found herself staring at her instead of the notes. the way her lips moved when she spoke, the moles on her face that formed a delicate pattern, like constellations on her skin. she couldn’t help but wonder how she hadn’t noticed them earlier—how she hadn’t noticed any of this earlier. the way she absentmindedly picked at the eraser of her pencil, her fingers twisting and tugging at it as she explained a concept. the small silver bracelet she wore on her wrist, catching the light every time she moved her hand.

paige stretched casually in her chair at one point, shifting slightly to get a better view of liana’s profile. her thighs, in particular were yelling at her, fully exposed and on display. her eyes trailed up, and that’s when she noticed it—a small tattoo behind her ear, half-hidden by her curls. it was too intricate and small to make out completely, and paige huffed as she settled her chair, giving up.

as they worked through the material, paige found herself growing increasingly distracted. she leaned in, pretending to scrutinize her notes with more interest than she actually had.

“is this good? i been tryna’ work it out.” she pointed to a particularly tricky problem on the page, her gaze lingering a little too long on liana’s face.

the curly-haired girl glanced at the problem, then back at paige, her brow slightly raised. “looks like you missed a step here. let me explain.”

paige nodded eagerly, leaning even closer to get a better view. she was trying hard not to focus on how close they were, or how she could literally smell the perfume on her neck. it was almost too easy to get lost in the moment, with every word liana said seeming to carry a double meaning. or maybe she was just entirely too fascinated by this girl, and was overthinking everything.

by the time the session came to an end and the two exchanged some last words about when they’d be meeting again, liana had packed up her things and was standing by the door, looking ready to head out. paige, who seemingly had gotten a good amount of what she wanted got up to follow, straightening her shirt out in the process.

as liana reached for the door handle, she paused and spun around, a slightly embarrassed smile on her face. “sorry, this is kinda embarrassing, but… you didn’t tell me your name.”

paige’s eyes widened in surprise. “you don’t know my name?”

liana licked her lips. “well, no.”

paige shook her head, apologizing with a sheepish smile on her face. “my bad, i’m just not used to hearing that. i’m paige.”

liana nodded, her lips curving into a soft giggle. “i’ve definitely seen you around, i’m just not really wrapped up in the whole sports thing here.”

paige took a step closer, her hands casually tucked into the pockets of her sweatpants. “that’s alright. looks like we gotta get you tickets to my next game then.” she was leaned up against the door at this point, the two of them face to face and paige looking as seducing as ever.

liana’s gaze lingered on the blonde, squinting as if she were trying to figure her out. she tilted her head slightly, her playful smile widening. “that an invite?”

“if you want it to be. let me put in my number so you’n gotta get to me through thing two in the back.” paige pointed down the hallway, referring to kk. the comment made liana laugh, reaching into her back pocket to hand the blonde her phone.

paige quickly entered her details, her thumbs typing away as she saved her own contact. giving it back, their fingers brushed lightly in the process. “perfect. i got you with the game details.”

liana gave her a warm smile. “looking forward to it.”

with one last flirtatious glance, liana headed out the door, and paige watched her go, a satisfied smile playing on her lips at the sight of her back… her ass.

just then, kk rounded the corner, her phone held up as she laughed into the screen. paige bit down on her lip, shutting the door as she turned to face the newfound noise. “i can’t believe you just rizzed up our tutor, dude!” she said, her voice carrying down the hallway. aubrey and ice’s laughter echoed through the speaker, their voices mingling with kk’s as they all seemed to have heard the interaction.

“c’mon, i’m really like that!” paige patted her chest aggressively, jumping around like a kid. and she believed it, too. she was gonna make liana bale remember her name.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader #uconn huskies #uconn #paige x reader #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x oc #lgbtqia #paige bueckers uconn #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #what’s my name

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johnbrand · 2 months ago

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Future of America

It all felt surreal. The final count had been secured. 312 electoral votes for Donald Trump, definitively more than half of the country. The popular vote swung right too. It was shocking, the defeat of all that was good in the world practically numbing Michael and Benjamin. The District of Columbia had guarded the two best friends from the outside state of the world. They could not have prepared for everything to be back on the line in an instant: their friends and families, their rights, and even their homosexuality.

“I mean, it just doesn’t make sense,” Michael, the political sciences major, ranted. “Everything seems so fishy. How could all the swing states vote for this trash?”

Benjamin, although physically shorter, did not hold such a short temper. The bubblier of the two pursuing a degree in psychology, Benjamin tried to take a more optimistic approach to the situation. “It’ll be fine. There’s no way he can deliver on everything he’s promised. No president has completely fulfilled everything they’ve wanted to do in office.”

Michael groaned as they continued forward across the green. Their morning walks had always passed the judicial buildings of the capital. But now it felt as if there was something different about them. Instead of the usual respect, the two now conjured contempt for the place. “Even if that’s true, I thought we were supposed to represent the ‘future of America’.”

“Apparently everyone else isn’t ready for that future yet,” Benjamin shrugged. “I mean, they can barely handle our short shorts, so having gay men was probably a step too far.”

They both sighed, taking a seat upon the steps leading up to the buildings housing their government. Both at average heights, average musculatures, and scoring average attractiveness, no one typically bothered the pair in public. And besides Michael’s pierced ears and Benjamin’s bleached hair, there was nothing particularly effeminate about them. So, it came as a surprise when something did stray from the norm.

“Ow!” Benjamin turned to face Michael, who was peeling a wad of newspaper from his face. The wind had brought the paper airborne before smacking it right into Michael’s face.

“You ok?” Benjamin asked, the smallest smile creeping onto his lips.

“Guess I just got slapped by the ‘future of America’,” Michael pointed to the headline of the front page, but Benjamin’s eyes were drawn somewhere else.

“Since when did you start growing out a beard?”

“What?” Benjamin asked, scratching at the thick clutch of hair covering his face. Benjamin’s eyes trailed lower as he watched Michael's body hair begin to sprout up and over the hem of the fitness shirt, before spilling out onto his exposed arms and legs. “I’ve had a beard since high school, man.”

“‘Man’?” Benjamin questioned the term, foreign to their language. Before he could analyze further, Michael’s top and shorts began to elongate. Their breathable fabric thickened and expanded, morphing into a plain gray henley and a pair of jeans that had certainly lived a few lives.

“M…M…Michael! You’re…you’re…” Benjamin stuttered as the changes grew more drastic. His friend grew before him, the lean frame inflating with muscle before being covered by a light layer of fat. The farmer’s build became more apparent as it was centralized in locations. Michael’s hands bloated into mitts, his face squared out from the more-than-occasional beer, his feet widened into their new, larger brown boots.

“What, bro?” Michael asked as the first of wrinkles began to sprout around his eyes. His thinning hair was quickly covered by the white MAGA cap that materialized on top of his head. “Oh, do you want to hold it? Here, but be careful; that paper is like a new New Testament.”

Benjamin, too stunned by Michael’s deeper voice, slight age progression, and overall sudden transformation, could not form a coherent sentence as he was handed the newspaper. But the more he tried to reflect on this warping event, the more Benjamin struggled too. Michael had had a beard since high school, right? Michael had not been 21, but 31, right? Mike had always been a straight, white, proud MAGA enthusiast, right?

Lost in his own head, Benjamin did not even recognize the effects of the newspaper transposing onto him. His own fingers fattening into calloused claws. Hair rippling across his forearms and down his chest and legs. Muscle pumping underneath each available surface, followed by a helping of fat to create a muscle gut that would cement a burgeoning ex-jock figure. Skimpy running fit stretching into a soft plaid and dirtied jeans. Thickening skull covered by a navy blue hat proclaiming that he too would become a part of this new era.

“Hold the paper a little higher,” Mike instructed, dragging Ben out of thoughts. “Now smile.”

The two men posed for the picture, proud to represent the future of America.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #dumbification #age progression tf #lib to con tf #unintended results

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peaches2217 · 25 days ago

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Guided Brooding

AO3 Link!

~~~

“Uno! Due! Tre! Quattro! Uno! Due! Tre! Quattro!”

The words ticked back and forth like a metronome in Mario’s head, changing in pace with each new song, but always relatively consistent in its rhythm. Inevitably a stray thought or a stumble would make him lose track, but then Luigi would call out the counts once more until he was (more or less) back in rhythm. That was probably his only saving grace, if he was being honest with himself.

Uno. Due. Tre. Quattro. Shoulders. Square. Spine. Straight. Don’t. Step on. Luigi’s. Feet. Uno. Due. Tre. Quattro.

“Okay! Ready for Phase Two?”

Luigi’s sudden interjection broke Mario’s concentration, and immediately he stumbled and trampled his younger twin’s foot (which made Incident #58, if he was keeping count correctly), yet Luigi didn’t flinch. He guided them both to a standstill, some conspiratorial twinkle in his eye.

“Phase Two?” Mario was almost afraid to ask. No, scratch that— he was afraid.

His brother immediately justified his fears. “Spin me.”

“What—”

“Spin spin!”

With that, Luigi lifted his left arm and Mario’s right, stooping to fit beneath their linked hands as he turned on the balls of his feet. Mario was forced to stand on his toes and thrust the entire right side of his body as high as possible just to keep from losing his grip, and even then, he barely succeeded. He was milliseconds from tipping too far left and faceplanting into the hardwood when it mercifully ended.

“With room to spare!” Luigi cheered on the other side. “See? You’ve got this down!”

Mario stared him down as he resettled on his feet. Luigi, in his defense, had the foresight to wear heels for this impromptu practice. But the tallest shoes he could keep his balance in still only put him at 5’8, a paltry number next to Peach’s 6’1 in her usual modest heels and 6’3 in her finest ballroom attire (read: the heels she would most likely wear during the real deal).

Mario, all 5’1 of him, did not in fact have this down.

The final notes of a mid-tempo song faded into needle chatter. Another record played all the way through. Another testament to his own failure.

As soon as Luigi let go, Mario found himself numbly shuffling towards their couch, pushed against the wall some hours earlier to give the brothers more room to practice. Not that this stopped them from colliding with the cushions or stubbing their toes against the wooden legs. The elder brother paid no mind to his twin rummaging through their music collection and casting suggestions in his direction.

“...but since it’s kinda jazzy it might be harder to keep up with, but that could also give us a chance to practice, like, syncopation! And maybe that would…” But what did it matter? The next record would serve the same purpose as the first two: background music to accompany his downfall.

Mario plopped his backend onto the overstuffed cushions with the same grace he’d displayed dancing with his brother (which was to say, none). His legs were tired. His calves burned and his thighs tingled from overexertion. Since when did his restless legs get tired? He leaned over the back of the couch and stared up at the slats in the ceiling, as if they might crack open and bring forth some divine revelation that would make this whole mess make sense.

“...Mario? Hey, you okay, bro?”

Mario, burdened with two left feet and a heart that just had to yearn for the unattainable, was not in fact okay.

He thought he’d known what to expect when he accepted his new role as Peach’s personal guard. She warned upfront that it would be dull and unexciting most of the time, standing through long-winded meetings and sitting through lectures about the inner workings of the Kingdom’s government. It all paled in comparison to the promise that he could spend more time at her side, and even better, the promise that he could serve her and protect her whenever she needed him.

He hadn’t really considered the social aspects of the role until that afternoon. He’d been just as excited for next week’s royal soiree as Peach was. Since he was required to hover nearby wherever his Princess went, he could easily swoop in and save her should any particularly chatty guests monopolize her time — they’d invented hand signs and covert exchanges and everything, which they practiced and perfected over tea cakes and laughter — but what had excited Peach most…

“I’ll finally get a dance out of you yet!” She’d dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin, her smile naïve yet mischievous. “It would be rude for my own guard to refuse any of my requests, after all.”

And she was right. Time after time she badgered him for a dance when he attended her parties as a mere guest. Time after time he informed her that dancing with him was a disastrous idea. It was a game, a playful ongoing back-and-forth, never a serious request , surely not. But now…

She was serious. Oh, stars, she was serious.

“I’m doomed,” Mario groaned at last.

Luigi groaned right back at him, mirroring his tone almost perfectly, and Mario might have been annoyed if he wasn’t also a bit impressed. The clack clack clack of high heels against hardwood tracked across the room, then the couch dipped beside him.

“C’mon,” Luigi said, nudging his shoulder against Mario’s. “Big feelings. Let’s talk ‘em out. You won’t feel better until you do.”

Mario huffed. Feelings. Feelings were supposed to be joyful and colorful and make life more vibrant. Feelings like this served no purpose other than to dampen that color. Life was too short to waste, too beautiful to squander, and sitting around wallowing in his own misery only squandered it further.

Wallowing with a loved one gets it over with a lot faster, Luigi was always reminding him. And Luigi, who was never one to suffer in silence, was admittedly more of an expert on the topic than Mario was, so who was he to question that wisdom?

He sighed heavily. Might as well.

“I’m gonna screw it all up, Weegee.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’ll look like an idiot. Or worse, I’ll— I’ll make her look like an idiot!”

“You know she won’t let that happen.”

“But it’s not her job to keep me from messing up! I’m the one that’s— it’s my job to—”

“It’s not a job, it’s dancing. A couple mistakes here and there won’t bother her, you know that!”

“Well, no, but…”

Mario clenched his jaw.

He could almost see it, like an image in light projected on the panels above his head. Dancing with Peach. She would guide his steps with patience and grace. He would hold her slender hand safely in his own and hang on her every instruction, and every time he tripped or stepped on her foot, she would giggle, correct him, and lead him back into a steady rhythm.

A smile tugged at his lips. Learning to dance in the haven of her private garden, the rustle of leaves in lieu of music, away from prying eyes…

But it couldn’t happen like that. No, he couldn’t waste their first dance forcing her to teach him. She deserved better. She deserved a competent dancing partner. One who could match her expertise with confidence, who she could trust to fall into step with her right away… who wouldn’t falter even when the whole nation’s eyes were on them…

Mario sat back up just so he could hunch forward, resting his elbows on his knees, threading his fingers through his hair. “I can’t mess this up.” It came out far weaker than he’d hoped. He really was pathetic.

While he sulked, Luigi patted his back and hummed, the drawn-out sort of Hrmmmmm that told Mario his answer wasn’t good enough. “Why not?”

You know why! seemed the most obvious response. Not that he could actually say as much; Luigi would make him say it out loud anyway, and he preferred to avoid invoking that impossible desire by name whenever he could, so he scrambled for an answer with fewer sharp edges.

“Because she’s…” Beautiful. Graceful. Intelligent. Artistic. Astonishing. Literally perfect. Long overdue for an entire religion revolving around her. “She’s a princess,” he eventually settled on.

“And you’re her best friend, yeah?” Luigi’s hand stilled for a moment, then he switched to rubbing circles into his brother’s back. “Look, I-I know this is important to you. But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready! Just tell her! You know she won’t make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Heat rushed through Mario’s body. He couldn’t even assemble an Absolutely Not before Luigi cut back in: “Compromises, remember? You can’t always let your pride win. I guarantee ya, promise her a dance next time, and she’ll be over the moon.”

Though he hated to entertain the thought, Mario knew he was right. He grumbled in displeasure as he mulled over the notion. Peach had never commanded him to dance. Though she’d presented it as an order of sorts, he did know she wouldn’t force him into it. It was merely a suggestion, one he was perfectly free to refuse.

…Just like his place as her guard, come to think of it.

“The motion for your appointment passed Parliament unanimously,” Peach told him that day, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes unable to select a focal point. “But please understand that you’re under no obligation to accept! It’s… unfair, asking so much of you, given how much you’ve already done. Those are my thoughts, anyway.”

Mario never intended to refuse the offer, but initially, he was apprehensive. He was plenty strong, and he had rescued her from abduction once already, and he would do everything in his power to help her. But how much power did he actually possess? Was it enough to keep her safe? Was it enough to live up to whatever expectations were laid upon him, not just by Peach, but by her government? By its people? “Bodyguard to a Princess” wasn’t a program his vocational school had offered.

But one good look at said Princess overrode his doubts. Her fingers drumming against her knuckles, the small smile she kept forcing into something more neutral, her gaze shifting between her gloved hands and the surrounding shrubbery and, eventually, Mario’s face— growing up with an autistic twin taught Mario to be extra attentive to nonverbal cues. Peach’s offer was every bit as much for her sake as it was for his and for her Parliament’s.

In her words, she expressed reluctance, but in her body language, she gave her true thoughts away. And in her eyes, sparkling turquoise in the morning sunlight, he found his answer.

Her eyes had sparkled just as brilliantly today, discussing a prospective dance with her dearest friend and devoted guard. He wouldn’t be the one to extinguish her spark.

You can’t always let your pride win.

What a silly thing to say to Super Mario, Hero of the Mushroom Kingdom, Bodyguard to its Princess. Of course his pride would always triumph. That was kind of his schtick, wasn’t it?

“Okay, enough internal monologuing.” The weight on Mario’s back was lifted, and Luigi’s hand relocated to his head, tousling his curls playfully. “You gonna talk this through with me? Or am I gonna have to drag it outta ya?”

Another rush of heat overtook him, but this time, there was no indignation. This was the heat of renewed purpose. Lifting his face, the warm lights of their living room filled Mario’s vision once more, and suddenly the empty floor before him called to him with a pull he refused to ignore.

His muscles protested as he stood, but he paid them no mind. Every obstacle could be conquered with enough determination. He’d fail as many times as he needed to so he could succeed, just once, just for her.

“Hey— external!” Luigi cried after him. “External monologue! Don’t leave me in the dark, bro!”

Mario grinned as he closed the gap between himself and the record player. “You’re right,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m not gonna screw it up.”

The clack clack clack of block heels followed him once more. “And why’s that?”

“Because I haven’t let her down yet.” He pulled the first record his hands touched out of its case and set it into place. “And I’m not gonna start now!”

“And why’s that, huh?”

“Because…” A bright, jazzy instrumental filled the air, and Mario waved his hands with a flourish, grasping for words other than the ones Luigi was goading him to say. “Because I don’t know when to quit, I guess!”

“And why’s that? ”

“Stelle santo—”

He found Luigi waiting for him at the center of the room, his arms folded, his right hip jutting outward, his high-heeled left foot tapping in expectation. The smirk he fixed Mario with was far too devious for his liking.

“Well, if my beloved baby bro is any indication,” he shot back, mirroring Luigi’s folded-armed stance and meeting him where he stood, “then I guess being annoyingly hard-headed just runs in the family.”

Luigi’s smirk wavered. “Baby bro?”

Mario huffed, if only to keep his own mask from slipping. “I was already around when you were a baby. That counts.”

“You were a baby when I was a baby.”

“Well I still have twenty minutes on you, so at one point I was literally twenty times your age. Doesn’t get much more baby than that, yeah?”

Their competitive stares held strong a few seconds more, then they faltered, their make-believe tension powerless against the lively music. Both brothers clasped each other by the arms and chuckled, and just like that, Mario’s earlier angst was gone.

And these sorts of feelings he was all too happy to let himself feel.

“Thank you.” Mario pulled in closer to clasp Luigi’s shoulder. “For… being so stubborn.”

The corners of Luigi’s eyes crinkled as he mirrored the motion, clasping Mario’s opposite shoulder. “Guided brooding. That’s all it is.”

“And that’s all I need, I guess.” Mario soaked in the contentment a moment longer, then he let his arm fall to Luigi’s waist, releasing his opposite arm to take his hand. “C’mon. We’re losing moonlight.”

Luigi nodded firmly. “Way ahead of ya.”

Maybe Mario’s newfound drive didn’t grant him lighter feet or better coordination, but his heart felt so much lighter. He was able to laugh and joke with his brother when he made mistakes and celebrate each minor victory with sincerity. Nothing miraculous, maybe, but he could certainly work with it. And each time he fell out of sync, Luigi was right there to guide him back in.

“Uno! Due! Tre! Quattro! Uno! Due! Tre! Quattro! Uno! Due! Tre!”

#I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE #‘mario having a much more unhealthy relationship with his emotional processes than you might expect’ my BELOVED #‘luigi’s an emotional wreck but that makes him really good at helping others dissect their own emotions’ my BELOVED #actually finishing and publishing fics after long periods of burnout my BELOVED #peaches' fancy fics #super mario bros #smb #mario #luigi #mareach #mario x peach

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malestransforming · 6 months ago

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dude. please make me into a huge fucking himbo!! i blow my wad at your tfs all the time.

snap

I'm honoured you would get off on my powers. It is what they're for, after all! Let's set you up with the ultimate jerk off.

We’ll take it from the bottom up. Close your eyes, stroke that cock of yours, and follow my words. By the time I'm done, you'll be a completely new man! Relax and enjoy yourself.

Feel your feet start to tingle? Creating some pressure in your socks and shoes? They're getting bigger, longer and stronger. That warmth is starting to slowly travel up your legs, making them to twitch and flex beneath you.

Actually, let’s get you out of those clothes. With you stripped down, I can watch those muscles of yours grow in real time. Maybe I'll stroke my cock along with you.

Now that you're naked, let's keep going. Keep stroking your dick. That's it. Picture your dick, hard and leaking in your hand, growing thicker and longer with each stroke. Feel the heavy weight of your balls, full of cum, swinging between your legs as they draw up closer to your body. Feels good, right?

Your calves are growing now, the muscles hardening into solid columns of power. And your knees ... far too knobly. I'm going to make them powerful so they sit perfectly below your thighs. Speaking of your thighs, oh man, they're gonna be something else. Feel the muscles there expanding, becoming dense and powerful? These are the kind of legs that could crush a watermelon or thrust for hours!

That's it, keep rubbing your dick. It's okay to slow down as you feel these changes. Just don't cum until I say so.

I want to really indulge in your ass. The globes of your butt should be rounder and firmer. A perfect handful! Clench and release your muscles as you stroke your cock, imagining someone grabbing onto your transformed ass as they fuck you senseless. You fucking love it, you himbo slut.

I'm gonna move to your chest and arms. A himbo like you needs a huge chest. Take a deep breath as your pecs swell outward, your nipples hardening into stiff peaks. They might be a little more sensitive. You should check though. Go ahead and tweak them a little while you rub your cock. I bet that feels good, right?

Your arms are have to be more defined and vascular with the muscles pulsing with power. Your shoulders are broadening, with the bones shifting and reshaping to support your increasing mass. I think I'll make your neck thicker, so it can support the weight of your expanding head.

Speaking of your head... I'm going to square up that jaw and make those lips thicker too. How do you feel about facial hair? A himbo like you will need just a little bit of scruff.

You're breathing heavy now. Don't worry, we're almost done. Look at your dick leaking. Get ready to finish up - your mind is feeling lighter now. All your "big" thoughts are fizzling out and draining to your balls. From now on you're just care about gym, food and fucking. You ready?

Cum for me, bro. Show me what I've done to you. Let it all out—your cum, your smarts, everything that made you the man you used to be. You are a new you: a huge, musclebound himbo who lives for the lift, the pump, and the endless pursuit of pleasure. Welcome to the good life dude.

#male tf #male transformation #reality change #male tf story #everything powers #jock transformation #male body transformation #jockification #himbo tf #himbo #himbo transformation

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atxxokirina · 1 year ago

Text

Unspoken Words PT. 2 — (18+ MDNI)

Neteyam x Mute fem Metkayina reader

part one here

contains: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, dom Neteyam, p in v, degrading, tummy buldge, oral (f receiving), creampie, very slight aftercare

author's note! (italic is used to symbolize when you, Neteyam, or anyone else are using sign language)

Your eyes flutter open, the bright sun shining through your Marui waking you. You look your your right, seeing Neteyam's body sprawled out on the cot, your head rested on his arm as it was wrapped around you. Carefully, you lift his arm over you, placing it back down softly to ensure that he stays sleeping. You stood up and stretched your limbs, quietly yawning as you keep your eye on Neteyam laying on his back, mouth wide open as he snores.

Since it's early, you figure you might as well get something to eat while you still can. Grabbing your gear, you throw it around your shoulder and give your mate a tiny kiss on the cheek before leaving. "See you soon, my love."

You make your way to the water, stepping in knee deep as you scope out for fish, readying your catching net just in case. As you continued to carefully examine the clear water, your eye catches something. A fully blue fish with with multicolored fins, floral flushed orange and yellow. You throw out the net, scooping it up and holding it to your face as you studied it's properties.

It was an interesting shape to say the least, large pincher's at it's mouth, while it kept an oval-like shape. Sloapek. You don't see these around too often, but you're happy to have caught it for you and your mate.

As you were traveling back to the common square, you hear a faint calling of your name. "Y/n!" Your ears twitch back, looking around, but you still didn't see anyone. That was, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around in an instant, you're met with Tsireya who's beaming at you."Tsireya, hello! It's nice to see you." You sign, smiling wide as your tail stills in content.

"It is nice to see you too, y/n! You are never out this early, is everything alright?" She asks, concern written all over her face. You nod. "I am fine. I just wanted to get something for Neteyam and I, see?" You hold up the net and her face drops in awe. "Sloapek!? Oh, I'm so jealous! I never see them anymore!" You held back a giggle as she spoke, nodding with a pleased look on your face. "You must have worked hard for this, I'm proud of you!" You awkwardly smile, knowing that it took you less then 2 minutes. "I should get back to Neteyam. He's might be missing me right about now."

"Oh, mhm! See you later, y/n!" You wave before going back to your Marui. As you approach the entrance, you get a glimpse of Lo'ak inside, he's sitting on your cot while Neteyam stands. As you were about to step in, you hear one of them speak.

"So, does she really not talk?" Lo'ak asked Neteyam.

"I mean, no. Not really.. She speaks with her hands."

"Shit, man. That's so weird.. how do you guys fuck?" You winced at his words, feeling shameful for yourself. "I don't know how you do it bro." He chucked.

"Don't say that." Neteyam defends. "..and we don't fuck, honestly. I don't know how to tell her and, plus, I don't wanna hurt her." He playfully scoffed, folding his arms. In all honesty, you wanted to expirience such things with him, but you never had the courage to ask. Your relationship consisted of pristine love, and though you have been together for a few months, neither of you made a move.

Not wanting to hear any more, you finally walk in. Greeting Lo'ak with a small head bow as you set down your net. Giving your mate with a short, but passionite kiss. "Y/n, hey baby." He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arm around your waist. "Hey y/n." Lo'ak mumbled. "I'm gonna get going but, it was nice to see you- y/n. And, talk to you later bro." Before leaving, he pulls his brother into a breif handshake. "Tell her." He whispers in Neteyam's ear, gone right after.

Neteyam's body flushes with anxiousness, rubbing his hands together. You took the rest of your gear off, wrapping your coiled curls into a low ponytail and bending down to reach for the fish that sat in the net. "Wait, before you do that-" Neteyam starts. You freeze in your position, turning your head to look at him and holding your palm out. "What is it?" His mouth opens and closes before speaking. "Y/n, are you.. a virgin? Like, have you ever had sex before?" A lump formed in your throat as you gulp. You weren't quite sure what to say, you didn't really want to answer him. "No." You avoid eye contact, looking down as you go back to your standing position. "I have not."

Neteyam seemed taken aback by your response, his lips quivered for a moment. "Do you, want to?" He blurts out

You instantly shot him a look, the breath you had being sweeper from your lungs. A part of you wanted to. So badly.. but the other part was petrified of how it might turn out. Would it hurt you? Would you hurt him? What if you do something wrong? He holds your chin with his two fingers, turning your head to him as he stares down at you.

"I'll make it easy for you.. we can even go slow, how about that?" His melodic tone filled your ears, practically making you melt before him. You blink a few times, feeling like your heart was going to shoot out of your chest. He was patient with your response, letting you take your time before making this important decision. Hesitantly, you nod. He smiles and kisses your forehead. "Great," he starts. "You'll feel so good, I promise, okay?" Neteyam kisses you again. "Okay" Even though it was sign, he could tell that you were still scared. He reassures you by pulling you into a hug, you buried your head in his chest.

The scent he gave off never failed to chill your nerves. "I love you, y/n. I would never do anything to hurt you, okay?" He softly pulls back by your shoulders, facing down. You held a hand up, closing your middle finger, but keeping your pink, index, and thumb up. "I love you too."

"I have to get to my training session, but I will be back at eclipse." He ruffles your hair, earning a warm smile from you as he rushed out of the Marui.

Several hours have passed. It's almost eclipse and you can't stop your anxiety from building. You pace around the room, trying to take deep breaths and focus on anything else, but it was damn near impossible. You sit down as your mind raced, nervously fiddling with your hands. Closing your eyes, you inhale through your nose and exhale with your mouth. After a few huffs, your rushing heart starts to slow down. You lay back now, sighing and looking at your ceiling. And just as you started to relax, "Hey baby.." You ears perked at the deep voice your hear. Sitting up on your elbows, you try to smile, Neteyam sets his gear down, slowly walking toward your small frame. There's a certain look in his eye, it's dark, and it scares you.

He climbs onto the cot, hovering over you. "Are you ready for me?" He says lowly, and you can almost feel his arousal. You nod twice, slight fear in your expression. Neteyam brings his head down to your chest, tugging at your top with his teeth, causing you to shudder. "Don't be scared," He licks a stripe and your breath hitches. "It's just me." Right after saying that, he tears your top with his fangs, your pupils dilate in shock. He was an entirely different person.

He snakes his hand up to your hard nipples, squeezing your right bud as he spit on your left one, toungue circling your areola. You close your eyes, soft pleasure begins to overcome you. You've never had the urge to make a sound until now, you don't want to, but it's almost impossible to control. "H-hmh.." You mewl. Neteyam notices and his ear twitches, you felt his grin as he continues to suckle on your tits. He now brought his hand down to your loincloth, rubbing your cunt through the fabric as he grazes the formed wet spot. "Already so wet, hm? Such a good girl." He hums, words vibrating your sensitive nipples. Expertly, he unties his own, throwing it off. He comes up from your breasts, and you're met with his large, dark blue cock. Purple veins protruding as it twitches for more. It almost looks.. painful?

Your eyes were wide. "You can touch it, it's okay baby." He reassures. You slowly reach out to his member with your index finger, the second you touch the tip, it twitches again. You quietly gasp, he chuckled at your reaction. "That's how it reacts, pretty. Don't worry." He cupped your cheek, kissing your lips with desire. "Take this off for me", he tugs at the waistband of your loincloth. You comply, lifting your hips to untie it, trying to ignore your shakey hands.

Neteyam shimmy's your cloth down, bringing his head to your wet and glistening heat with a deep inhale. He slides his finger up your folds. "Mm.. so fucking wet baby, I think you're ready for me, wouldn't you say so?" He teases, scissoring you open with his digits as he makes out with your clit. Pleasure overwhelms you, hips subconsciously bucking up to him as you held back your noises, but he could fainty hear you. "Yeah? You speak now, hm?" Your eyes squeeze shut as his pace quickens, now shoving his two fingers inside of you and pumping them with a fast pace. "Uh huh.." You quietly whimper, he feels more than accomplished at the dirty sounds you make. "That's fucking right baby", he curls his digits, massaging your spongey walls, earning a gasped "Nghh!" from you. "Juust like that." He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean with a pop.

Neteyam pulls your hips toward him, fisting his cock a couple times before aligning it with your entrance. He notices the twang of worry in your face. "You'll love this baby, I'll make you scream my fucking name." He promised. It made you quite nervous, but nonetheless, you nod at him and close your eyes. Without warning, his fat cock is forcing it's way inside of you, inch by inch, knocking the wind from your lungs.

Your eyes flew open, mouth agape at the feeling. He grunts, enjoying the way your delicious pussy is wrapped around him. "Mhmm, yeah.." Neteyam moaned while grinding his hips into you. "Am I making you feel good? Huh?" He growls. You can't sign, and you can't respond in any way. He uses this to his advantage, pulling out and plunging himself back into you, a loud and long moan escapes from your mouth, he smirks as he pumps his cock upward, hitting your sweet spot. Every. Time.

You squeeze your eyes shut, quietly cursing and whining under your breath. "Fuck! Oh fuck, Neteyam.." You repeat with a quiet breath, followed up by another moan, unknowingly making such lewd noises. "You can do better than that." He groans, fucking you faster as the sounds of your bodies coming together filled the room. "Hmmmh, so good! Sosososo g-ood.." You whimper, no longer caring about whether or not you speak, you just need him. More than you ever have before.

You wrappes your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. "More. I need you." You mewl. "Beg." He demanded, slowly fucking up into you. "P-please.. Nete.. yam." You moaned, "I want you, I want you! S-so fucking bad!" You cry out, breath shaky. "That's what I wanna hear." He huffs, pace increasing gradually. Your pussy clenches around him, exuding wet squelching noises. You whine, begging for something, but you don't know what.

He fucking loves the way you've let go. The intimacy and tension is building between the two of you. He scoffs at how you're still trying to supress your moans, as if you weren't just begging him to fuck you harder a minute ago. "Cmon, let me hear you." He thrusts harder, looking down at your tummy to see his cock poking out with each thust me makes. "Don't try to be all quiet now, you're not so innocent as I thought, huh? You're still a slut. A nasty slut who just needed to be fucked like this, aren't you?" You whine, moans coming out even when you try to stop.

He grabs your hand, placing it on your stomach. "Look at it", he grunts, holding your hand on the reappearing buldge. You watch the way his cock made contact with your tummy, pressing down on it at every chance you get. You felt so incredibly full, each pump in your pussy leaving you breathless. "Mmm.." Neteyam moans through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Keep your hand right there, don't you dare fucking move it." You whimper in response, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure.

An unfamiliar feeling forms around your core. Your muscles tighten as you feel light. "Uhh! Nete- Neteyam.. I feel weird", You whine, pleading for him to stop whatever he was doing to make your body react this way. "Shh, shh, shh, baby, it's f-fine." His hips staggered inside of you. You truthfully felt like you had to pee. This can't be right. The feeling grew stronger, you can't control your body in it's essance anymore. You need something, some kind of relief. It's building up and it won't stop. "Ngghhh, more! Fuck! Harder, faster!" You moaned, fucking yourself up again him. He picks you up, holding your ass and making you straddle him as his hips slammed back into you. Making you scream and cry in pleasure as you meet his thrusts.

"Almost. Almost, almost, almost", you repeat like a mantra. "Me too baby. Fffuckk, I'm almost there. Gonna paint your insides, give you my seed." Neteyam gracefully moans, it was music to your ears. Suddenly, your pussy clenches around him. Way tighter than before. You gasp and wince. "Ah! Neteyammm!!" You moan your mates name, squeezing your arms around him. Just in time, he stops his movements all together, bursting his warm load inside of you with a low sigh, followed by another small thrust. You felt a heat form in your womb, pure bliss as he filled you up.

Your body goes limp, falling back down on the cot and curling up into yourself. Feeling worn out, like all of your energy had been drained from you. Out of breath, Neteyam lays beside you, gently running his hands across your curves. "You okay baby? You're not hurt or anything?" He checks. You answer with a quiet hum. He turns your face to him, pecking your lips as he briefly glanced down at your cunt, looking at his cum slightly pouring out.

He sighs in content. "Come, let's go get you cleaned up." He stands from the cot and slips his loincloth back on, then bending down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he secures you "I'm tired, Teyam.." You mumble quietly. "It's alright, I'll take care of you. Just rest." He reassures, tone soothing and low as he brings you to a secluded cave to clean you up.

#avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #ff #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam smut #neteyam x yn #neteyam x mute trope #neteyam x mute gf

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bookuce · 8 months ago

Text

Change My Mind (Jey Uso)

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the real names of the wrestlers. Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually*

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 1,445

PART ONE

The sound of Alina’s heels clicking against the concrete floor beneath her echoed throughout the semi-empty hall. She was following chatter with a mic in hand. She was due to do an interview with Trinity about her upcoming championship match. She’d turn the corner, spotting the blue interview set down the hall. “Hey, Alina.” Greets one of the crew members as she arrives on set. She would flash them a quick smile, wiggling the top of her fingers at them.

Over in the corner, adorned in glowing green lights and neon hair, stood Trinity. She was deep in a hushed conversation with her husband Jon. “Alright, Alina is here, everyone! Places!” Exclaimed one of the producers. Alina would move to stand on a blue X tapped to the floor. Trin gives Jon a quick kiss before rushing over to her.

“Hey, Alina!” Jon sings. “How you doing?” He waves, flashing a goofy smile at her. Trinity looks over at him before looking back at Alina.

“Ignore him, please.” Trinity begs.

“It’s what I do best.” Alina sings.

Trinity glances down at the floor, making sure she’s standing on her designated X before looking back at the tall interviewer next to her. “Speaking of ignoring—.”

“Starting in five, four, three, two!” Count down the producer.

“I’m standing by with Naomi ahead of her match with Bayley tonight for the Smackdown Women’s Championship. Naomi, you’ve been on a roll the last few weeks, getting a huge win over Nia Jax last Friday that got you this opportunity tonight. What’s the strategy for tonight?” Alina asks, moving the mic towards her friend.

“The strategy is to go in focused, and be aware of my surroundings. The only reason Bayley even has that title is because of Damage Control. And that’s okay because they, just like Bayley will, can feel the glow.” Trin would skip off camera, leaving Alina to end their interview.

“Thank you, Naomi. You heard it here first, Naomi is focused and ready for her championship match with Bayley later tonight.” There was a five second pause before the producer called for the scene to end. Trinity comes back over to me, linking her arm with the interviewer’s.

“So, have you talked to Josh?” She asks, pulling them over to Jon.

“Don’t plan on it.” Alina says quickly. She’s been avoiding him since last week. He called on the hour, every hour for the first few days, but now he’s dialed it back to text messages. Her inbox says one hundred and twenty unread messages now—eighty-five of those belong to him.

“Ay, You gotta quit stressing my brother out, Uce.” Jon says, earning a gasp from Alina.

“Oh, I’m stressing him out?” She shouts. “He’s the one that chased my date off with that weak ass intimidation tactic he uses. I was fine!”

“That man was not finna last, Lina. Hell, the last one didn’t.” He says. “If anything he did you a favor.”

“Jon.” Trinity pushes his shoulder.

“Don’t Jon me. I’m right!” He points his hand out at Alina. “What was his name again? Bill?”

“William.” She says, folding her arms.

“Square ass name. See, that was destined to fail.” Alina scoffs gently, shaking her head at him. The date with William went great or so she thought. Things started to change when they came home to Josh on her doorstep. Josh and William didn’t see eye to eye immediately. “He just wants the best for you, Uce. It’s all love.” He explains. “Ain’t that right, lil bro?”

Alina’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She turns away from her friends, only to catch Josh approaching them. His eyes were fixated on her. She slips her arm out of Trinity’s. “I gotta go.” She said, turning to walk the opposite direction as Jey. He would stop, watching as she tried to put distance between them again. Something about that pissed him off.

“Girl, if you don’t bring your ass back here.” He said, storming off after her. “Alina, you hear me talking to you!” She doesn’t respond to him, her eyes flitting around the hall. Suddenly arms snatch her up, lifting her into the air. “I’m not chasing you, damnit. We finna talk this out.” Josh would glance around him before moving into a random dark room on his left. He places her back on the floor and turns on the lights.

“I ain’t got nothing to say to you, Jey.”

“That’s not my name.” He scolds her.

“Jey!” She presses on. He sucks his teeth at her, closing the door behind him.

“Man, you something else with yourself.” He says. “What I do, hm? Since I’m always pissing you off.” Josh knew why she was upset, but he wanted to hear it from her mouth instead of everyone else's.

“Boy, I do not have time for this.” She says, moving to walk around him. He steps in her path, blocking her from going any further. “Jey, if you don’t get out my way.”

“Or what?” She steps to the right of him and he follows. “Nah, We finna have this conversation like two grown ass adults, Lina. That’s what we are right?” She gives him a stern look. “Mad at me over some boy that wasn’t gonna make the cut anyway.” She takes a step back.

“He was a great guy!”

“Shit, couldn’t be if you mad at me.” He says. “He looked like a fucking square anyway. What was his name? Bill?”

“William!” I exclaim.

“Man, same thing.”

Alina crosses her arms over her chest, moving to sit down on the couch. When Jey saw she was calming down, he moved to sit down on the coffee table in front of her. They sat there in silence for a moment. Josh watched her while she watched a wall. He knew what she wanted; an apology, but like always, she was gonna make him work for her forgiveness. “So what was his excuse?” He asks, finally breaking the silence.

She would remain silent for a few more moments before finally speaking. “He assumed you were my man and didn’t want to be in the middle of it.” Hazel eyes would glance over at the Samoan sitting in front of her. This was the third—no, fourth time a man dipped on her because of him. It was starting to get out of hand. Josh looked down at the floor at the answer. He would sniffle, the right corner of his mouth twitching as he did so. He wasn’t her man but he did wish he was. This has been a feeling of his for a few months now.

“He wasn’t the one then.” He said this to her often. She was probably tired of hearing that come from him, but it was true. None of those dudes were the one. Him on the other hand…

“I give up then.” She sighs. Josh looks up at her at the statement. “The love I require is unrealistic and I know that now so I'll stay to myself.”

“Nah, we don’t give up around here. You gonna find someone…just be patient.” He pleads quietly. He presses his fists to her bare knees. If she was to guess he was speaking for himself, she would be true. He, just like her, didn’t want to fuck up the dynamic of their friendship. If things didn’t work out, it would trickle down into their friend group and they didn’t want to make things weird for anyone; not even for themselves. “Are we good?” He asks finally. “I don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

She stares at him, pretending to be deep in thought. “I didn’t hear any apology.” She says.

“I’m sorry, Alina.” He says quickly.

“I don’t like the way—.”

“Alina.” He snaps, causing her to laugh out loud at his irritation. “You’re lucky I love you.” He says, standing to his feet. Alina would stand shortly after him, their fronts now touching. Eyes watch eyes for a moment before awkwardly venturing off in opposite directions. The interviewer would shimmy to the right, freeing herself of his suffocating energy.

“I should get going.” She says.

“Yeah, me too.”

Alina walks over to the door, her hand outstretched for the knob. She pulls the it open, catching Trinity and Jon standing near it. The couple steps back from the door, trying to make it seem like they weren’t prying.

“We were wondering where y’all went!” Trin says.

“Y’all together yet?” Jon asks, getting straight to it. That was Alina’s cue to leave the scene. She squeezes by Trin and Jon, making her way down the hall.

________________________________________________

A/N: Hi! this is my first time writing fanfic in FOREVER. Let me know what you think or if I should write more! I have a lot of cute little drafts with Roman and Jey! If you want to be added to the tag-list just let me know! ☺️

NEXT PART

#jey uso fanfiction #jey uso #fanfic #jey uso x oc #jey uso x black oc #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic

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yannasuniverse · 12 days ago

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𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞? | 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Paige Bueckers x reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None!

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚: This is butt But last post of 2024!!! Masterlist their is spell grammar probably btw.

Music played over the sounds of the kitchen. You were putting white table covers on the table while Marie was cooking the food.

Knocking was heard from the door, yelling it’s open over the loud music. Walking in was Paige and two other girl’s trailing behind her.

“It smells good in here” said the girl who was just a bit shorter then Paige and had twist in her hair.

Giving the girl a smile “Marie food is always good, you can sit on the couch the food is almost done” you say handing the girls gloves and bibs to put in later.

The two girl’s go sit down while Paige stay’s “Thanks for having us over, these are my teammates Aubrey is the taller one with curly hair and the other one is kk” she says pointing to them.

“Your welcome it’s nice having people over, did you want to sit down or anything?” You ask

“No am good is it ok if I’ll help in the kitchen?” Shacking your head “Yeah you can help, am going to finish setting up the table” After you said that Paige disppered in the kitchen.

“Bro kk you can’t do that!” “Yes you can!, I can stack the card if I want too!” She said throw the cards on the floor standing up cause you to stand up too.

“Do you need that?” Kk sassy at you giving you a stank face.

“Yeah I do, let’s go” You said squaring up, Aubrey laugh filled the living room over the music “Y’all look so dumb right now”

Turning y’all’s head towards Aubrey “Well at least I didn’t keep losing at uno” you said side eyeing her “Ok and but at least I didn’t-” “Foods down!” Marie yelled from the kitchen.

The three of y’all rush to the tables sitting down quickly, Paige walk at the kitchen with two bags of seafood, sitting next to you giving you one of the bag’s. Turning to look at Paige to see her all ready looking at you. Your face felt hot quickly looking away mumbling a small thank you.

“Am about to mess this up!” Kk said the smile on her face big as she put on her gloves.

“I hope you guys like it, Paige help a lot with it mostly” Marie said giving everyone their tools to eat with before sitting in her seat.

Everyone was done eating and was now on the couch watching smile 2. Kk and Marie sat together on the floor while you sat by Paige with Aubrey next to her.

You sat really close to Paige basically press against as the movie progress to get scarier.

They movie was half way done, you felt a hand on slide on your thigh. Turning to look at Paige who seem focus on the movie her hand moved more up your thigh sending butterflies though your stomach.

She started to draw little sharps on your thigh soothing you a bit. Feeling your eyes to close you laid your head on Paige shoulder, her body went stif your a bit before relaxing rest her head on your’s. Y’all both drifted off to sleep cuddle together.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @unadulteratedcyclepaper @ashortyluvsports

#paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #wbb x reader #wbb #uconn wbb #women's basketball #uconn huskies #wcbb x reader #uconn #uconn wcbb #wbb imagine #womens basketball #ncaa wbb #paige bueckers

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 1 month ago

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it's not just hair daddy.

Word Count - 2.4k

till forever falls apart masterlist

Jack was feeling overwhelmed as he was standing in his master bathroom, looking at all the products Idris would use for both their children's hair. It didn’t help when he realized time was slipping away from him, and although the kids have been up since 7 am, he hasn’t attempted to get himself or the kiddos ready for the Rangers game he was supposed to leave for in 45 minutes. Jack was supposed to be at the rink in a little over an hour, to take the team bus to Madison Square Garden. The plan was that since today was his day, he was going to give the kids to Idris at the rock and she was going to drive them to MSG in the city. The kids haven’t seen their dad play a game all season and Zander has been begging to go. Despite whatever problems Idris and Jack were having, she would do anything to make either of her children’s happiness. Which today includes going to her baby daddy’s / used to be fiances’ game.

The only thing that Jack had to do was get them ready, which was fine except for doing their hair. Jack’s anxiety was only rising, his breath picking up slightly as he continued to look at all the different products, bows and hair clips she left for Zola’s hair. Jack decided that he would leave and get both of his kids dressed and then figure out the hair situation. As he leaves the bathroom he can hear Bluey on the tv still playing, and Zola laying on the bed but Zander nowhere in sight.

“Hi Zozo.” he cues as he picks up his daughter and she giggles as Jack slightly bounces her on his hip. “Where did your brother go?” he asks her, knowing he won’t get a response. “Huh where?” He continues to talk in a baby voice, as he leaves his room and goes to look for his son. He finds Zander on the couch eating some cheerios out of his safe no spill toddler bowl.

Before Jack can even speak to his son, he hears Luke’s voice from the kitchen. “Dude you're not even dressed. We’re gonna be late.” he scolds Jack. “Oh my god! Neither is Zo. What have you been doing for the last 30 minutes?” The annoyance in Luke’s voice was clear and Jack winced ever so slightly embarrassed his little brother was scolding him.

“Listen I can get dressed in like 5 minutes okay. I’m gonna get the kids ready and then I will throw on some suit and we’ll leave. We have plenty of time.” Jack says, but he isn’t sure if the words are supposed to bring his little brother comfort or himself.

Turning towards his son who is still as happy as can be eating his snack that Luke must've gotten him; he says “Come on Z, let’s go to your room and get dressed.” Slightly reaching out his hand that isn’t holding his daughter, gesturing towards his son to take his hand.

“B-but I wanna finish me snack.” his son pouts.

“My snack honey, not me snack.” Jack smirks at his son’s grammar mistake.

“Bro this is not a time for a grammar lesson!” Luke screams from the kitchen which Jack ignores continuing to talk to his son.

“You can bring it with you, and eat it while I do your hair.” Jack offers and Zander smiles at his sheeming off the coach and grabbing his hand as Luke continues to yell from the kitchen.

“Oh my god Jack! You’re doing their hair too! Frick we’re definitely gonna be late.” Luke complains, as he shoves a mouthful cereal in his mouth from his own bowl of cereal. Although Jack appreciates that Luke used ‘frick’ instead of ‘fuck’ in front of the kids he still needs to take a deep breath, his patience with his brother wearing thin.

“Will you shut up!” he yells at Luke as he guides Zander to his and Zola’s room. Originally the family of five was supposed to move to a townhouse so each kid has their own room, but that was before Idris asked for a break. Plus it doesn’t matter if they share a room, they both end up with Jack most nights they are with him anyway. Putting Zola down on the rug, as he goes to Zander’s dresser picking out new underwear for him and two options for pants. “Which pair is black or dark green?” he asks squatting down resting on the balls of his feet so Zander can see both.

Jack watches his son as he has that slight crease in his brows, and a slight smirk on his lips as he decides what color pants he wants to wear. Jack has a smile on his face, because Zander looks as if someone is trying to teach his little two-year-old brain pre-algebra. “Uhhh green.”

Jack nods as he helps his son step out of his pajama pants as Zander uses his shoulders to balance on. He goes to help Zander out of his underwear, but Zander protests. “No. Daddy. Only pants.”

Before Zander can continue to protest Jack changes so he is on his knees as he tries to reason with his son. “Zander. You have to change your underwear. It’s not an option.” Jack’s voice is stern with him. He can tell his son is about to make a dash for the door, so he wraps his arms around Zander as he begins to fight Jack. Zander continues his protests and finally Jack looks his son in the eye and says “okay here is the deal, you change your underwear or you can’t come to Uncle Lukey’s and my game today.”

Zander has a full blown pout, his hands in fists as he finally says “fine.” Jack takes a deep breath as he feels like he has just got through the worst of getting his kids ready. Once the pants are on, Jack puts a long sleeve shirt on his son and then lets him decide between his jersey that says “daddy” or a devils hoodie. Zander picks the hoodie because “i wanna ma’ch with sissy.”

“Okay now first you eat your snack, then we’ll go do your hair. Okay buddy.” Jack never thought he would be someone who uses “first, then statements” with anyone let alone his kids. But Idris said they should try to use them as much as possible with Z to see if it helps with stubbornness when it comes to transitioning to a new task and terrible tantrums. Jack quickly grabs Zola’s devils sweatshirt which is too big on her still, and some sweats for her.

“Hi baby. Let’s get you dressed” as Jack finally gives attention to his daughter she babbles happily in response.

“Da-da” she says.

“Yeah baby that’s me.” he responds as he quickly uses the changing table to change her clothes. “Okay Z time to go.” he says as he lifts his daughter up even though she can walk it’s very slow and Jack is on a time crunch. Zander gets up with his bowl which still is full, ‘how much fucking cereal did Luke give you’ Jack thinks to himself.

As they pass the living room again, they see Luke again this time fully dressed including shoes and his feet on the table. “Dude feet off.” Jack says as he passes him using his leg to kick Luke’s foot off the coffee table.

Luke doesn’t even look up from his phone as he says “not to sound like you, but time check we only have 30 minutes left.” Luke mumbles as Jack passes him with Zander following close behind. Jack ignores him, but as soon as Jack is out of sight he puts his long legs out again on the table, looking up and smirking about Zander, quickly motioning for Zander not to tell on him. Zander stops following his dad and starts giggling with his uncle until he hears his dad call him and he rushes off.

Thankfully Jack left Zola’s bouncer in his room and he places her in it, so starts using her feet to follow her dad. “Not yet Zo.” he mumbles as Zander finally comes into the room. Jack reaches for his son, suddenly picking him up and slightly throwing him in the air causing Zander to squeal loudly. “Okay Z, time for hair.” As he carries Z to the bathroom, he can hear Zola behind him following behind in her bouncer. Jack places Zander on the step he kept in his bathroom so Zander can reach the sink. “Okay ready?” he asks, making eye-contact through the mirror.

“Mmmhh” his son mumbles as he brings his bowl to his level so he can continue to eat. Jack grabs the bottle of water and sprays Zanders hair. “No daddy.” his son says.

“What?” Jack asks.

“That’s not how mama does it.” Zander complains with a huff. Jack takes a deep breath as he places the bottle on the sink.

“Z I did your hair like this yesterday and it was fine.” trying to reason with his son.

“No. Gotta use da cream.” he complains.

Jack tries to gently tell his son. “Baby. That's only when your hair is wet.”

“NO BABY.” Zander screams at the top of his lungs because Jack called him by that pet name.

“Right. No baby sorry.” Jack apologizes immediately hoping that Zander won’t go into a full meltdown.

Sadly, Jack’s efforts went in vain as Zander continued to scream “I WANT Mama.”

Jack sighs deeply, “You are going to see Mama in less than an hour Z. But the longer you fight me, the later you are gonna see Mama.”

Zander’s jaw is still locked as he thinks about what his dad just told him, as he mumbles something under his breath for Jack to continue he grabs the bottle again and finishes wetting the baby curls. Jack at this point is rushing and forgets to put the leave in a conditioner that is also a detangler. Zander’s hair doesn’t look long but it is, and in the first couple seconds almost immediately the tears come down his face as it hurts. “I’m sorry honey.” Jack apologizes for using the detangler.

Despite it not hurting anymore, Zander doesn’t stop his screaming cries. “I waaannttt mommy.” he cries and it hits Jack as if a bad hit on the ice does.

Jack stops brushing his hair for a second, “I know honey. Deep breath for me okay?” Jack tries to get his son to take a deep breath before he makes himself sick from crying so hard. Jack mumbles something along the lines of “there ya go” as he bends down with a tissue from the sink to wipe Zander’s tears and snot off his face.

Zander’s lip is still quivering, as he says “it’s not just the hair daddy.”

Jack breath catches, if he didn’t feel like a piece of shit before he does now at his son’s words. Jack doesn’t say anything to his son for a minute. Until he says“Okay. Well your hair is done. Why don’t you go hangout with Uncle Luke while I do Zozo’s hair and get ready.”

Zander nods his head as he steps off the stoll, as he passes Zola he says “good ‘uck.” He completely misses the l in ‘luck.’ But the fact that he wishes his little sister luck simply because their dad is going to do her hair makes Jack smile.

It doesn’t take Jack long to do Zola’s hair, he uses red bow clips to clip two little ponytails. Jack knows that it doesn’t look as good as if Idris did it but it will have to do. Quickly he goes to get dressed and grabs Zola as he grabs the diaper bag, as he goes to the living room. Thankfully Luke put Zander’s shoes on and Jack could hear while he was getting dressed that it was a fight about how he wanted to wear his flip-flops and Luke didn’t want him to.

“Alright let’s go.” Jack says diaper bag on one arm diaper bag on another.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah Z” he asks.

“I wanna be carried,” he complains.

“I can’t carry you with the diaper bag, and Zola.”

“Oh my god give me the fucking bag I can’t do this.” Luke says, as he locks the apartment door.

“You don’t wanna take Zola?” he asks as Luke practically rips the bag of his shoulder.

“And risk a Zola meltdown. Naw I’m good.” as he continues to walk quickly to the elevator as Jack bends down to scoop up his son.

“Are you excited Z?” Jack asks.

“Yup.” popping his ‘p’

Thankfully when they get to the stadium, they are only a few minutes late. Luke grabs the gear from the trunk he already had packed earlier in the day. He doesn’t even try to say bye as he runs to the bus, committed to his promise of “I will not be late because you are shit at time management Jack.” Thankfully Idris is already there and opens the back door to great the kids.

“Mommy.” Zander shreeks.

“Hi baby.” she coos, Jack rolls his eyes at the nickname knowing that Zander will only smile at Idris calling him that.

“Oh I see Daddy did your hair.” she says to Zola and then she turns to Zanders flattened curls “oh and your Zander.”

“Listen, I tried my best, Iddy.” Jack mumbles looking down at the garage floor feeling shy all of a sudden, as she only giggles at him.

Jack's cheeks start to feel warm, as he blushes at her. “I know J.” The light pink blush only becomes darker at the nickname. ‘She hasn’t called me that in months.’ he thinks to himself. “Don’t worry I have hair stuff in my bag, I had a feeling.” As she lightly pats Jacks cheek.

“HUGHES LET’S GO.” Jack turns his head fast, as he sees Coach Shelden yelling for him.

“You better go.” Idris mumbles.

“Here.” Jack shoves the remote for his car in her hand. “Take it. It’ll be easier, plus it’s my game you shouldn’t have to pay for gas.”

“Jack.” the way she sighs his name like she is about to protest. But Jack doesn’t wait to listen; he just starts to jog backwards towards the bus. “It’s yours! Hey you look beautiful I’ve always said red is your color.” and now it was Idris turn to blush but Jack doesn’t see as he turns to run to the bus hoping he gets there fast enough that he won’t have to do bag skates next practice.

#jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes blurb #dad!jack hughes #till forever falls apart #schwritingsjh86 #zola hughes #zander hughes #jack hughes fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes au #new jersey devils fanfic

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ilikesillythings · 11 months ago

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" Aftercare with Voxxy "

Tws; mentions of nsfw, mentions of rough sex Fluff Vox x reader HC format

Sex with Vox is always rough, like.. aways

But, he always makes sure you're okay after each session.

Since he's electronic, he won't bathe with you, but will run you a bath and sit on a stool beside the basin, talking to you

Of course, will cuddle up with you once you're ready

Kisses (the best he can w/o poking you with his square ass head) any marks he might've left, promising to be more gentle if needed

Traces his claws up and down your back softly

PRAISES TF OUT OF YOU

Like- I see him as liking to degrade during sex, but after?

Bro is lavishing you in so much praise (let's just hope that doesn't rile you up ifykwim)

Refuses to sleep until you either tell him it's okay to, or until you're asleep

If you ask really nicely, he'll make it so your favourite show plays on his face.

Or game, honestly

So many 'I love you's'. So many.

#hazbin hotel #vox #vox x reader #yandere vox hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hote #vox hazbin hotel #vox aftercare #vox headcanons #headcannons #headcanon #hazbin headcanons #x reader headcanons #x reader #x reader fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere x reader

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wonyscafe · 2 years ago

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╭──────────.★..─╮

astrology observations

╰─..★.──────────╯

↳ Please note that these are my own, personal observations and that they're all from my own experiences!! <33

𖹭

🧋 I noticed how often libra lilith acts like a "damsel in distress" when they are attracted to someone.

🧋 a fire moon x earth moon couple is honestly really fun imo. the fire moon can bring excitement into the life of the earth moon, while the earth moon can help the fire moon with their emotions

🧋 I've noticed how taurus or leo in big 3/venus are often really genuine in showing love. they also love to give gifts!!!!

↳ I have an ex with a leo venus and this man still gives me gifts TO THIS DAY

🧋 sun conjunct moon in synastry can show that the sun person is easily attractes to the moon person

🧋 into hate sex??? go for it w someone whos venus/mars squares your venus/mars

🧋 people with uranus as their chart ruler are probably the biggest rebels

🧋 sag influence/9h placements (especially mercury) think alot, like they think ALOT

🧋 leo risings always have an opinion. always. they don't say it but you can see it.

🧋 same w aries suns tbh, but they don't say it cuz they don't wanna hurt anyone

🧋 libra venus/rising + cyber/ai aesthetic bro-- like we're talking the aespa type

🧋 also libra suns are PARTY ANIMALSSSS me and my libra friend went CRAZY yesterday bro the first aid ppl had to check up on us 😭😭

🧋 virgo in big 3 are also hidden party animals tbh

🧋 I've seen how gemini in big 3 can often be a bit easily offended... they often take everything as an attack (except the confident ones, they dgaf)

🧋 scorpio placements 🤝🏻 liver/bladder issues

🧋 I've seen how scorpio and aquarius have amazing chemistry... they are always attarcted to each other in a way

🧋 want a virgo placement to like you in a romantic way?? give them space. you don't have to be distant, but give them space to think and feel. don't act too detached. give it time and if you notice how theyre asking more questions, you got em. (mercuryyyy)

🧋 fire signs are often associated w bunnies for some reason....

↳ a/n : hey hey hey!!! how are you my loves?? I'm p tired n hungover :') I've been studying alot too bc I have a geography test tmrw :( I hope I'll succeed, wish me luck!! oh and get ready for pluto in aqua n saturn in pisces 😮‍💨𖹭

#wonyscafe #astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #astro observations #astro notes #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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crexmpuffff · 3 months ago

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LOVESICK

Veldora x Reader

summary ☆ bro is down bad!!

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

Veldora was never one for subtlety. When he liked something—or in this case, someone—he made sure everyone knew. And lately, all of Tempest knew exactly how Veldora felt about you, except for one person: you.

It started innocently enough. Veldora’s usual loud greetings became extra loud whenever you entered the room.

“Ahahaha! (Y/N), you have arrived! What a joyous day it is, made even brighter by your presence!” he’d declare, flexing his muscles for no apparent reason. Everyone around would roll their eyes or sigh, having gotten used to the dragon’s enthusiasm for showing off.

But you? You just laughed, brushing it off like it was typical Veldora behavior. “You’re so funny, Veldora. Always so full of energy.”

Veldora blinked. Funny? That wasn’t what he was going for at all. Didn’t you notice the extra care he was putting into everything for you? When he crafted that massive stone statue in your honor (which definitely ruined Tempest’s main square for a while), you just thanked him like he’d made you a little trinket.

“Wow, Veldora! That’s... impressive! Thanks!” You smiled brightly, completely unaware of the chaos it had caused behind the scenes.

“Doesn’t (Y/N) see that Veldora’s really into them?” Shuna whispered to Rimuru one day as they watched Veldora trailing after you like a puppy, constantly offering to do things for you. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

Meanwhile, Rimuru, Shion, and the rest of the gang groaned as they tried to figure out how to fix the destruction. Even the construction crew had to halt all other work just to clean up the mess.

Rimuru sighed, crossing his arms. “Nope, completely oblivious. It’s painful to watch.”

It only got worse.

Whenever you visited, Veldora’s attempts at impressing you became more and more extreme. One time, he tried to cook for you, which resulted in half the kitchen exploding. Thankfully, Shuna managed to save the day, but the whole ordeal made the kitchen staff beg for mercy.

“I—It’s just that my love for (Y/N) burns so brightly!” Veldora exclaimed, arms dramatically thrown into the air as the kitchen staff threw panicked glances at each other.

“But it’s literally burning everything down!” Rimuru muttered, shaking his head.

To make matters even more awkward, Veldora began hovering around you at every opportunity. He’d pop up out of nowhere, ready to offer his “mighty dragon assistance” for even the simplest of tasks.

“Need help carrying that fruit? I can crush the orchard with one hand!” he’d say proudly, flexing again.

“That’s okay, I got it, Veldora,” you’d reply, giving him a light pat on the arm, completely missing the lovestruck look on his face.

Around him, the others weren’t so lucky. Everyone was forced to endure his constant bragging about how much he cared for you, with him going on for hours about how you were the most amazing person in all of Tempest.

“Did you know (Y/N) smiled at me today? Truly, I am blessed!” Veldora would shout, while poor Shion and Shuna exchanged tired glances, the other villagers barely able to get a word in.

Rimuru had had enough. “Veldora, I get that you have feelings, but the whole city doesn’t need to hear about it every five minutes!”

“But they must know how wonderful (Y/N) is!” Veldora declared. “They are my inspiration!”

Rimuru pinched the bridge of his nose. “For the love of all things peaceful, just tell (Y/N) already! We’re all suffering here!”

But Veldora was too shy to do that directly. Despite all his boasting, when it came to you, his heart raced too fast, and his usual boldness vanished.

So instead, the citizens of Tempest continued to bear the brunt of his lovesick antics.

One day, while the townsfolk were cleaning up after another of Veldora’s “grand gestures” (this time, a giant garden of roses planted right in front of the town hall, blocking the entrance), you walked up to him, smiling as always.

“Veldora, this garden is so beautiful! You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me,” you said, oblivious as ever to his true intentions.

Veldora blushed—an unusual sight for the mighty dragon. “O-Of course! Anything for you, (Y/N)! I—uh... I mean, it was no trouble at all! Just a small display of my greatness!”

Rimuru, watching from the sidelines, facepalmed. “How much longer are we going to have to deal with this?” he muttered, as Shuna giggled beside him.

And so, life in Tempest continued with Veldora’s over-the-top affections, while you remained blissfully unaware, leaving everyone else to suffer.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

𖦹 please do not translate, repost, steal, or copy my work.

#x reader #ttigraas #veldora x reader #veldora tempest #manga #tensei shitara slime datta ken x reader #tensei shitara slime datta ken #that time i got reincarnated as a slime #the time i got reincarnated as a slime

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antennaed-kenzy · 26 days ago

Text

Sneaking off [Karasu Tobito]

❄ Karasu Tabito x f! reader

❄ notes: proofread, characters above 18+, slight suggestive, fluff, occ

❄ Day four of the Christmas Series.

❄ Extras: Work count 2k+ The fourth one of the best Christmas Series. He about to get it. Masterlist of series

Seeing her at first sight and being able to capture your feelings in the instance. Though your friend thinks it kinda werid.

Clicking and clunking echo through the dimly lit living room, where the source of light is a phone.

Second whore

This is why he cheated

And that’s why you are a man slut.

You are lucky im not at home right now

Right because your ass would be beaten to a pulp lil bro.

I’m telling a trusted adult

And im calling all your exes back.

And do what dumbass

Take a guess. They all love me and would happily beat the shit out of you.

The phone clicks off though a buzzing sound emits from it. {Y/n} sets her phone down on the couch. She goes into the pantry wanting to find a snack. “Eita’s fatass ate everything.” She rolled her eyes when being met with no ready-to-eat snacks.

Grabbing her phone from the couch. Going up the stairs and looking at her new messages.

Second whore

Don’t act like you can I don’t care if you are older

You can’t beat me

Answer me and we’ll square up Sis

I know you did not leave me I know you are on your phone Fight back

Come onnn

{Y/n} Otoya answer your phone

Fatass. You ate all the damn snacks.

Huh?

There are no snacks in the pantry. Bring some back on your way home pls.

Get my favs. Thxs.

{Y/n} laid down on her bed throwing her phone down on the side. She grabs her computer that was lying on her nightstand. While her brother Otoya Eita was out with his friends she was at home dreading the thought of studying.

She groaned, looking at the work in front of her. Even with her brain, she still hated the idea of working, and with the problems and solutions in front of her, she still hated figuring them out. Taking a deep breath in, then letting it out she got to work.

An hour later she heard the doorbell ring. {Y/n} set her work aside and ran downstairs. Her brother Otoya with three bags in his hand. “Got your snacks.”

The female jumped up and down with a big smile on her face. “Thanks, Eita.” Rummaging through the bags she pulled out some snacks she wanted right now. “You are so lucky, I almost called one of your exes to buy me something. But then I would have to pay them back.”

“Wait!” Otoya’s head cocked to look at his sister. “You’re not going to pay me back?!”

A cheeky smile grew on the female face, “You never asked me to pay you back.” She runs back to her room with the snacks in her hand.

“Hey!” Eita runs after his sister. “I thought I didn’t have to ask!” He banged on her door as she locked it. “I’m not rich. This cost me more than last time!” he banged harder on her door.

“Stop it!” {Y/n} yelled back. “If you break this door you’re paying for it.” She threw a plush at the door. Eita slightly backed away from the door.

“Fine!” He yelled back before walking back to the kitchen.

{Y/n} sighed looking at her bed. The open computer with work displaying on the screen. Getting up from the floor dropping the snacks from her lap. She picked a bag of lightly salted seaweed to snack on while she finished her schoolwork.

An hour later she finally caught up with everything. She walks out of her room with the snacks in her hands. She puts them in her side of the pantry and clips the bag of seaweed before putting it away. She sat on the couch with her brother who was on his phone.

Eita looked at his older sister. “You’re done with schoolwork already?”

She nodded her head. Turning on the TV to find something to watch. “Maybe if you had a brain you could be just as smart.”

Otoya rolls his eyes scrolling back on his phone. The two siblings sit in silence. One watching the TV while the other was scrolling on his phone.

“I gonna block this girl.”

“Oh my God.” {Y/n} turns to look at Eita who is typing like crazy on his phone. “Leave the poor woman alone.”

“She was the one who contacted me first.” He shows {Y/n} the messages from the top. “She is the creep.”

{Y/n} took her phone and read the messages from the top to the most recent. “She is a creep. Damn, let me block her for you.” She blocked the lady on her brother's phone and threw it back to her. “Suprise you didn’t want to try to get to know her though.”

“She was a bitch–”

“You don’t say that, Eita.” She whipped her head toward her younger brother. “We have been over this.”

“Whatever, I’m going out for a while. Don’t miss me while I’m gone.” Otoya got up from the couch.

“Wait,” {Y/n} calls out to her brother. “Give me a hug before you leave.” Eita hugged her sister before putting on his jacket and walking out the door. “Have fun, Eita!”

“I will,” He waved back.

Even if the siblings argued they still were siblings. They loved each other. Since they had no mother or father in their life {Y/n} filled in that spot, yet they still acted like siblings not letting the role of parents let them separate from how they are related.

She would wake up early in the morning on a school day to make breakfast and make sure Otoya got ready. Make sure he made it through the day and got his schoolwork done before going out. She normally stayed at home doing school work, going to her job, and making a stable income.

Even if their parents would send money she didn’t like to use much of it. The two adults disowned their children when they were young. {Y/n} used their money for house payments and taxes. The money would be hidden in the house so that not even Otoya would be able to find the stash.

Making super for herself she sat back on the couch watching a K-Drama she found on TikTok to bing. About halfway through the first season, clothes changed and her empty plate beside her there was a knock on the door.

She paused the show going to the door to greet her brother back home. “Good to know you made it back home, Eita.” She looked past her brother and saw another guy walking around the house. “And– with a guy friend.”

{Y/n} shoved her brother out of the way making him stumble. “Hey don’t push me!” He yelled at her.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Otoya {Y/n}.” She held out her hand to the male who looked similar to a crow in some ways.

He took her hand into his pulling it close to his lips and pecking her knuckles. “I’m Karasu Tabito. Nice to meet you.”

“What a gentleman.” {Y/n} stood shocked, her other hand covering her blushing cheeks.

Otoya swatted his friend's hand away. “That’s my sister, dude.”

“So what? She’s pretty how could I resist.” Karasu smirked at his friend's sister making her blush out of embarrassment.

“That’s enough.” Otoya placed his hand on his sister's back leading her to her room. “He is staying the night. Don’t bother us.”

{Y/n} chuckled, “And what are you going to do, Eita? I know you guys are dming girls. No need to be ashamed.” With that closing statement, she shut her door. She was determined to finish the K-Drama even if she stayed up all night.

“You’re sister hot. Is she single?” Karasu asked walking behind his friend toward his room.

Otoya rolled his eyes. Opening the door of his room Karasu took a step followed by Otoya who shut the door behind them. “Don’t let her shyness get to you. She had he days and plenty of exes.” He turned around pointing a finger at his friend. “And no I forbid you from dating her.”

—

First Whore

It’s cold outside, lil bro. Dress warm today, please.

Huh? Are you not home?

No. I’m out with some friends.

Why didn’t you wake us up?

Karasu and I have plans today

You told me not to bother you guys. So I let you sleep.

Otoya looked at the ground seeing Karasu still sound asleep. The time on his alarm clock is 12:24 am. He sat up in bed, the covers sliding down his upper body. His shirt was all wrinkled from sleeping in it. He kicks his feet off his bed to land on the ground.

“Wake up will ya.” Otoya kicks his friend slightly in the stomach, making him wide awake.

Karasu holds his stomach from the sudden feeling. “That wasn’t nice of yer.” He sat up off the floor. “I’ll have you know I was awake.”

“Sure.” The white and green-haired male navigated through his closet to find a nice outfit.

“Yeah,” Karasu got up from the floor. “You’re sister came to see if we were awake. Then she just left without saying a word.”

Eita slowly turned on his heel to face his friend's purple eyes. “You didn’t bother to say anything? Not even wake me up?”

“Sorry.” Karasu shrugged his shoulders.

The two of them get changed and eat breakfast that was already prepared by {Y/n}. Now they were bundled up and ready to conquer the world.

“Karasu!!” An unfamiliar voice called out.

Both the boys turn around to see two females walking their way. One with a hand extended waving at them and a smile on her face. The other walked beside her with a small smile on her face.

They watch the two females walk their way, Otoya with a forced smile and Karasu with a confused look, as the bright female seemed to know him.

“Hey, guys!” The unfamiliar female speaks to them, her hands behind her back and a big slime splattered on her face.

“Hey,” a familiar voice spoke behind the female.

Karasu's head peeked behind seeing an older girl version of Otoya. A smirk creeps on his face when they make eye contact. “Pleasure to see you–” His purple gaze meets the excited female taking her into account, “both of you again.”

“Excuse me and this moment.” Eita broke the awkward silence that occurred between everyone. “Who are you?” He abruptly pointed at the cherry girl.

“She is a friend,” {Y/n} wrapped her arms around her friend's neck. “And she wanted to see Karasu in person” She looked at her friend who was already staring at Karasu as if she was in a trance by his beauty.

“Mika,” The friend extended and hand that was met for Karasu, though Otoya grabbed her hand. A smug look on his face like a proud thief.

Mika slid her hand away from the younger Otoya. Whipping her hand on her shirt that was littered with germs of someone she wasn’t pleased with.

{Y/n} tapped her friend's shoulder turning her attention to a male and a female sitting on the bench. “It’s that him?” She whispered in her ear.

Mika gasped for the whole world to hear when she realized who it was. “You’re right. I’m going to teach that man a lesson.” The women stormed off in that direction.

{Y/n} giggled softly to herself, proud of what she did. “Sorry about her. She is a b-i-c-t-h.” She spelled out, her hand covering the side of her mouth as she spelled the bad word.

“Then why are you with her?” Eita questioned.

“Because she wanted to see Karasu.” She shrugged her shoulder watching her in the distance fight with the man.

“I’m not crazy.”

{Y/n} shook her head at Karasu's statement. “She is though.” She whispered back to them. “Anway.” She clapped her hands together, turning on her heel to face the boys. “Why don’t we have fun?” A smile lit her face.

The three of them walked away from the scene leaving the women and man to fight with words and painful statements. Otoya was beside his sister on the left while Karasu was on her right, leaving her in the middle of them.

Eita watched every move his friend made toward you, even if they grazed hands by accident. He would silently yell at them under his breath and they heard every time. The three of them walk with no destination in mind.

They pointed out the Christmas decor that fill the streets. The three don’t walk into any stores, nor do they take a break and sit down. Walk and talk was all they were doing. {Y/n} getting to know Karasu a little better and vice versa. The Otoya siblings make fun of each other ({Y/n} getting the upper hand.) Tabito laughs at them, and then it comes to him and Eita makes fun of his friend.

“Yo,” Eita interrupts the two. “I really have to piss. I’ll be right back.” With that, he leaves to find a bathroom.

{Y/n} turns to Tabito, a smile wide across her face. “Wanna go ice skating?” She asks, her hands forming a ball together, her doe eyes speaking and pleading to the male.

Karasu can't resist the female gaze. He sighs, “Fine.” He looks around to see if Otoya is still around. “What if he sees us?”

“Oh please,” She pushes the thought away. “He won’t find us, believe me.”

{Y/n} grabs the male's hand taking him away from where they were standing. Not letting go of his hand the whole time they made it to the closet outdoor ice skating rink. The female pays for everything saying it was her treat. Karasu wanted to give her a hug for her gratitude, but he resisted.

Both the friends make it out on the rink. Karasu's legs were shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold, from the fact he never laid foot on an ice rink. His blue gaze shifted to a particular female who was skating freely on the ice.

She was joyful, she was having fun in an element that seemed to be hers. {Y/n} turned around to see Karasu attached to the wall skating along trying his best to keep up with her.

She chuckled to her and skated over to her male friend. “You’re funny, Karasu.”

Bu-bumpBu-bump

His heart fluttered seeing a smile that reflected off the ice, her [e/c] eyes looking directly into his with carefulness. “You’re so pretty,” Hu mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” She peered at him, a teasing smile on her face as she didn’t catch what he said.

“Oh, nothing,” He hid his face in embarrassment. Feeling it heats up when you touch hot a cold water together.

{Y/n} extends her hand for the man to grab. He looks at her hand, up to her face. “Come one.”

Karasu grabs her hand. He gets gilded away from the outer ring and they are not in the center. “You gotta believe.” She grabs both of his hands. {Y/n} slowly leads him in a circle. “Look at me. Don’t you dare look at your feet, Tabito.”

Tenderness spoke millions of words to him. He trusted {Y/n} and soon enough he was skating without her help. “Do you do this often, {Y/n}?” He asks skating by her side in case he needs to grab her to stabilize.

She nods, “Yup, I did figure skating when I was younger. Though I ditched it when I realized it’s not what I wanted to do in life.”

The two of them skate together, and like magic they where hand in hand skating along as if they have known each other for years. Now they can know each other for years to come.

a/n: kinda rush as trying to finish some finals and doing this are not the best together.

#fanfic #blue lock #bllk #blue lock manga #mk. oneshots #x y/n #bllk x reader #karasu tabito #bllk karasu #karasu x reader #tabito karasu x reader #blue lock karasu #chiristmas special #chiristmas

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