#enchanted doorways

[jongupscrookedteeth]

Shinee, Taemin - fairy moodboard

Please note that I created the collage but the photos are not mine credit to original owners

[marlynnofmany]

Exciting update on the "Making the House Awesome" front:

(The cat has already tried to use the mock-stonework as a scratching post, but not the door, which actually looks like wood. Cat logic.)

Anyways, this is looking great, and we're very excited.

[blogfanreborn777]

Boy vs Tree by Eric Deschamps

[onitaszafran1975blog]

[dmitriene]

continuation to this small work, cw: two freaks in love.

könig finds out you're kind of shy, a meek, pretty thing, sure, you send him such a revealing, unabashed polaroid pictures, but now, with him appearing out of nowhere at your door, giant and rugged, your fingers fiddle nervously at your own clothes, tugging down and trembling at your sides, wide eyes looking at the letter he holds in his gloved hand, from colonel, to you, name written by the way you already memorized, making you understand that it's really him.

the man you sent your nudes to, who would've know that he'd get so obsessed to try and find you like possessed dog, but you welcome him nonetheless, shuffling aside to let him in, bend his head down with a curl to his back so he would get past the doorway to your living room, dirty boots leaving a crumbs of dirt, his gear coated in things you don't want to know about, but his bright, unmovingly focused eyes look at you with a crinkle of delight, pupils could've dilate by now.

sure, könig is a little bit sad you didn't welcome him naked, or undressing at the very first sight of him, but he can work from what he got, from your shy touches when he wraps a hand around yours, for a handshake, that's it, but his by now ungloved, sandpapered fingers rub and circle around your wrist, curious, almost shuddering at the feel of your much smoother, gentle skin against his, and just this is enough to turn him on, cock swelling hard in his cargos.

he wonders if you'll let him bend you over the couch and eat your pussy from the back, or just stretch your pretty hole around his swollen cock, but you ask him questions, how he found you, why, does he wants something to eat, but könig already plans a small wedding for you two so he could make you his forever, an adorable housewife that will take care of her hard working husband with sending him pictures of her holes he could pump full after coming home.

könig tells you everything, how much times you made him cum, that he fantasized about you in any possible situation and position, dreamed of entering his quarters, and instead of a empty, boring room see you curled at his bed, his thumb tracing along your knee all the while he babbles your ears off with all disgusting, horny talks, but it's amuses you, to the point your thighs start to clench together, pressing harsh, as you lean in, watching his eyes nearly eclipse from the very little contact.

you put the letter he brought aside on the table, instead, asking your questions, and then answering his, which only contain of awkward, boyish laugh and stuttering words of if he looks the way you imagined, and könig is, a little bit awkward, in the same time cocky enough to touch you, nearly groping, looking enchanted on the outline of your breasts from beneath your sleeping shirt, before rubbing an sweaty hand against the back of his hooded head, such a silly man.

nearly jumps out of his pants when you offer him to take a bath at your place, voice mellowy and inviting, and könig trots behind you with a wagging tail when you lead the way, filling the bath full of warm water and couple drops of shower gel, making some bubbles that not really suit him, but would make the room smell nice and block out all that reeks out from him when he starts to undress, preening under your touch when you help to unclasp couple of things off his gear, könig holding down from to not shove your hand down his crotch.

it's when you join him that he gets insistent, all your shy act dropping down, your nails raking down the expanse of his toned, tissued back with tiny, reddening streaks, as könig corners you against the bathtub ceramic, moaning raggedly and humping your pussy persistently, messy, hips grinding and twitching, and the way he acts so eager and silly makes you really aroused, mewling right against his wet ear as he sloppily makes out with your neck, his hair and stubble rubbing all over your sensitive, bruised skin, sharp teeth's closing around the warmed flesh.

seems like now, you have a strange kind of boyfriend, a military colonel, a right pervert, and a pussy drunk pup that pumps your soppy, gummy cunt full of his thick, creamy release, one he kept in his balls especially for your meeting, his vision nearly blackening from how long his cock throbbed and spurted, squeezed tight by your pulsing, milking walls, enjoying your palms stroking his face, cooing at him hushed and lulling, everything könig dreamt of.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[coqvttes]

୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝KNOCKED UP❞ ― KENTO N.

― ꒰ BREEDING ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―

୨୧˚ synopsis: after getting turned on from seeing you being domestic in the kitchen, your doting husband is definitely not stopping until he's sure you're pregnant !

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, breeding, p in v, petnames, praise, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!kento, fingering, tummy bulge, creampie, teasing, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k (sorry it’s not proofread)

your doting husband, kento just couldn't help himself when he saw you fussing around in his little kitchen. the enchanting smell of fresh pancakes had stirred him from his sleep in the bedroom, and he wondered what you were up to when he noticed that his wife's spot on the bed was empty. appearing in the doorway of the kitchen in his briefs, he freezes as he sees you prancing around in the kitchen. taking in the sight of you. 

there you are, sporting the linen workshirt he wore yesterday, styled with your cute little apron over it. clearly, you aren't wearing anything underneath the shirt, save for your cute lacy panties that he just loves so much.

he ponders if he should just take you right there. bend you over the worktop push those panties of yours to the side and make love to you like last night. you just look so gorgeous and domestic like this, waking up early just to change into HIS clothes to cook him HIS breakfast in HIS kitchen. how can he resist the temptation? god, sometimes he thinks you do it on purpose just to rile him up. and it works. 

"good morning, kento," the sound of your sweet voice forced him out of his perverted thoughts and his eyes met with your gentle ones. you were holding a delicate plate of freshly made pancakes, just for him with that sweet smile on your face. warmth filled his heart as he looked at you with adoration and lust. 

"g'morning, darling," he says in that sexy morning voice of his. your mouth almost waters at the sight of him. hair tousled, shirtless and a tired smirk on his handsome face. he notices the way you stare at him and he doesn't know how it happened but he's approaching you, pulling you in by the waist for a sweet kiss, sealed with passion and devotion. 

"you look too good in that shirt and cute little apron of yours," he groans, hands slipping down your hips to grab onto your arse. you squeal as he unexpectedly lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your palms flat against his chest. 

"w-what about breakfast?" he chuckles at your concern and grins. 

"who needs breakfast when i have you, hm?" he chuckles, carrying you back into the bedroom, you giggle as he plops you down on the bed, climbing over you. his fingers play with the strands of your hair before he speaks.

"god, you're so perfect in my shirt. so pretty for me, hm? all mine, aren't you?" his fingers slide under the shirt as he kisses you, caressing you tenderly before moving up further to grope your tits. he smiles into your lips as he feels how hard your nipples are for him, pinching and tugging at them gently, eliciting a choked whine from your throat.

"all yours, kento," your voice is breathy, so desperate for his touch. he skillfully unbuttons the shirt and peels it off of you, letting the cool air blow over your now bare torso. your fingers tangle in his blonde locks as he envelops your nipple in his warm mouth. you mewl softly from the stimulation whilst he gazes at you through his eyelashes, you look so heavenly like this. 

releasing your wet nipple he moves lower down your body. as he spreads your legs, exposing the wet stain on your panties, he chuckles. he ducks down and presses his lips against your clothed cunt. his pointer finger slips under the lace, pulling it down your legs, revealing your needy cunt.

"fuck, darling, let me put a baby into you, hm? make you mine forever? would you like that?" he asks, his slender fingers, slipping into your hole slowly. you nod profusely, choking on your words as he stuffs you full with his digits. sliding them in and out of you slowly, he curls his fingers to tease that sweet spot inside of you that makes your walls clench around him.

"use your words, sweetheart." 

"yes, yes! wan' your babies, kento. wan' it so bad. wan' to be yours forever-!" you babble mindlessly, completely unaware of how much your words are affecting him right now. the thought of having kids with you and how much you want it too, makes his dick so hard. his heart is beating fast as the phrases truly sink into his mind.

with that, he withdraws his now slick-covered fingers, before lowering his head down, capturing your plump lips with his. your hand moves down between your bodies to palm his bulge through his briefs. he pulls away from your lips and groans with how painfully hard he is and he tugs his briefs off, dropping them onto the floor carelessly. 

your eyes are fixated on his cock that yearns to be inside of your warmth. he pumps his length a few times, drops of precumming spilling out of his sensitive tip as he slowly lines himself up with your drooling entrance. you mewl out lewdly as he pushes himself in, filling you up completely and your palms fly up to his shoulders for purchase. 

your thankful he prepped you a little bit earlier otherwise you're not so sure if you could take him in one go like this. after a few heartbeats, he rolls his hips slightly, his pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit and you moan softly. 

he picks up the tempo, his thrusts now faster and harder as the room echoes with the sounds of your pleasure and the bed creaking. his strong arms move your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, making the position more intimate but most importantly, making it easier for him to go deeper.

his eyes are fixed on the way your cunt keeps sucking him in, the way you can see his bulge in your tummy and the way you look at him with those adoring doe eyes. he dips his head down to seize your lips in a kiss.

the kiss was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each of his powerful thrusts. with every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, constantly clenching around him deliberately which forced out a long string of groans as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"k-kento!" 

he dotes on the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name in a choked whisper, your nails clawing down his back. your cunt pulsing around his cock. your juices spilling from your hole as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow.

“that feel good, darling?” the rumble of his voice against your ear makes you shiver slightly. 

"can't wait to see your tummy swollen with my babies in you, you'll look so gorgeous."

“mmm—!” moans and whines bubble up in your throat as a response to his teasing words. the thought of having his children makes your mind go fuzzy and your heart swell. you want it more than anything. 

“i love you, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. his husky voice, how close his lips are, the lust evident in his gaze, it all makes your mind go fuzzy. 

"i love you, kento! love you s'much!" you cry as you cream around his cock, cunt tensing around him which pushes him over the edge too. he lets out a broken moan as his warmth fills you up. he stays inside of you for a few moments, not wanting his cum to go to waste. 

"mmm, can't wait for you to get pregnant, sweetheart," he confesses, pulling you into his arms as he lays down on the mattress.

“i think the pancakes are cold,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him through your lashes and he chuckles down at you.

"that's alright, darling... i've already had my meal, haven't i?"

oh yes, he has...

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[prythianpages]

The Love Potion | Azriel x Witch Reader

Azriel x Green witch | summary: Azriel asks you for an elixir to soothe his aches and you accidentally give him the aphrodisiac you had made for Nesta, bringing to surface one of his hidden desires.

warning: this is purely smut with a breeding kink, oral (m receiving), p in v. some fluff at the end

a/n: this is based off this request. This can also be read as a stand alone fic but it is part of my Dandelion series.

The door creaks open, signaling Azriel’s return from a day that seemed to drag on endlessly. His wings sag under the weight of fatigue and as he steps into your study, the scent of herbs and potions are instantly wrapping him in a soothing embrace.

And there you are, a sanctuary amidst the enchanting chaos. His mate.

You're engrossed in your apothecary work. Your spell book floats in midair in front of you, your keen dark eyes scanning through the ancient text as your fingers deftly work their magic to bring the essence of the herbs to life. The sight reminds him of the day he met you, when the mating bond had snapped.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he stands in the doorway for a moment. The fatigue that clung to him like his shadows begins to lift as he watches you, admiration and love evident in the way he drinks in the details–from the concentration in your furrowed brow to the way your pretty lips move in incantation.

The weariness he feels is soon replaced by a warmth that radiates from the depths of his heart and quiet footsteps carry him closer. He’s surprised his shadows haven’t given him away. They love you as much as he does and it is often them who greet you first.

His arms wrap around you from behind and he pulls you into his embrace. He nuzzles his nose lovingly into your neck. “Hello, love.”

“You’re home!”

He can hear the smile in your voice and you can feel the exhaustion in his body, his tense muscles finally relaxing and body slightly slouching into yours. “Long day?”

“Yes,” he responds and you’re turning in his embrace to face him properly with a gaze of deep rooted concern. He kisses your worry away. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

He takes delight in the way you grace him with a smile, your eyes softening into their natural color as you brush his hair back. “Should I draw you a bath?”

He pulls you tighter against him until you are chest to chest. Your heart, the emerald talisman kept safely in his chest pocket, hums between you. A bath sounds nice but he just wants to bask in your comfort. 

“Will you join me?”

“If you wait for me,” you reply and pull away to catch the slightest frown on his face. “It won’t be long! I have one more elixir to finish!”

Azriel’s eyes drift to the line of elixirs you have sitting on the counter behind you.  They seem to glisten enticingly under his curious gaze. “Do you have anything to soothe aches?” He asks as he reluctantly lets you go to carry on with your work. “Training was rough this morning.”

“Of course. The one with the green liquid should work,” you say as you mindlessly point to the array of potions you spent all afternoon making, failing to catch the way the aphrodisiac you made for Nesta morphs from its deep red to a verdant green. “Drink all of it, if you need to. I can always make more. Just let me seal this last one with a spell and then I can draw your–”

Your voice falters as you turn to face Azriel, your gaze momentarily flickering to the potions before settling back on him. He fails to catch the way your eyes widen in a sudden panic and swallows the sweet liquid in a big gulp. It’s only once all the liquid is gone from the vial that he picks up on your slight distress.

 "What?"

“Umm,” you stammer, your hand rubbing nervously at your neck as you sheepishly look up at him. 

“It wasn’t poison, right?” He jokes but your silence wipes the smile off his face. “y/n.”

“Of course not!”

You drop your gaze, murmuring something else quietly under your breath. Both his shadows and ears strain to discern your words but they fail in their attempt. “y/n,” he calls your name again, growing worried by the second.

You slowly raise your eyes, and as they meet his, a rush of warmth colors your cheeks, betraying the fluster that has settled on your face. You should’ve separated the love potion from the others, especially when you knew how sneaky it can be. It’s known to masquerade itself as any elixir beside it as it yearns to be used and your poor mate took the bait.

“Youaccidentallydrankanaphrodisiac.”

Though your words are mushed, your voice is louder this time and he’s able to make them out. He throws his head back and laughs. A deep and amused sound.

“You’re not mad?” You say and though he’s laughing, your body tenses at the thought of him saying yes. Your hands clasp behind your back in a timid manner, inadvertently puffing out your chest and drawing his attention there. 

“I’m not mad, love.”

His eyes land on the silver jewelry delicately hugging your neck and then to the charm with his initial. When you suck in a short breath of relief, he watches the rise and fall of the curves of your breasts as the sweet sound caresses over his skin in a heated whisper that pricks at his skin. 

“Azriel.”

“I’m fine,” he says, brushing off your concern but his gaze lingers on the movement of your chest for a moment longer before meeting yours again. He follows up with a boyish grin, despite the sudden racing of his heart and the familiar feeling of blood rushing downwards. 

“How about that bath?”

**

There’s a buzzing underneath his skin. All the soreness and ache of his muscles melts away and it’s not from the inviting embrace of the steaming bath. A burgeoning impulse stirs within him. It’s as though the elixir he consumed earlier is coursing through his veins, gathering strength and coalescing in the depths of his stomach before dropping to his hardening cock.

Every gentle lapping of the water against his hot skin, every touch of yours as you help clean him feels so good. It certainly doesn’t help that you’re putting on a show, intentional or not, as you bend down and shift around him, gracing his eyes with tempting views of your ass or breasts.

He submerges his head into the water and while his body is now clean, there’s nothing clean about his thoughts when he rises back up. You’re at the center of every single one of his whirling thoughts, filling his head with lewd images. Of you on your knees as you take him into your mouth, of you under him as he thrusts into you hard and fast, of you on your back as you let him have a taste. Fuck. He wants it all.

As you drag the stool and shift to sit behind him, he reclines in the tub. His hands are gripping the edge of the porcelain roughly, his knuckles whitening under the strain and he can feel the flicker of amusement it draws from you through the bond.

His head goes quiet when he feels your chest brush against his wings, muscles tensing as your cool breath fans over the back of his neck. A teasing brush of your fingers along a sensitive spot on his wing as you clean at them with a damp towel has him biting his lip, suppressing a whimper. It’s almost embarrassing the way you’ve barely even touched him at all and he’s already at the verge of coming undone. He feels like a touch starved horny teen all over again.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You whisper sweetly, lips hovering dangerously close to his ear. Your velvet voice is smooth and it sends a thrill down his spine and straight to his throbbing cock. When you brush your fingers along that spot again, the porcelain cracks under his grip. 

The air is thick and heavy with his scent and the damp towel falls from your grasp. When you press your hands onto his shoulders, he can feel the shift in your demeanor. “Need some help?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He can hear the smirk in your voice but the way you’re touching him renders him momentarily speechless and he can’t bring himself to muster a sly remark. Not when he’s completely at your mercy. He’d have to take what he can get for now.

His breath hitches when your hands graze the hardness of his chest, easing their way down to where the warm water of the bath laps at his abdomen in a slow and taunting manner. Your cool touch immediately soothes his heated skin. As you reach further down, his eyes flutter shut and head tilts back into your chest. His throat bobs when you stop right above where he needs you the most.

“Please, touch me,” he breathes, no longer caring how desperate he sounds and it’s like music to your ears.

Azriel is not one to beg…but for you? He’d do anything for you. If you’d ask him for the moon on the string, he’d deliver it to you and in this moment, he’d do so in a heartbeat. Anything to feel you. He’s aching to feel your touch. So bad it’s nearly painful.

Sensing his desperation, his shadows are trailing down your arms to his muscled chest, guiding you to Azriel’s cock so you can grant their master the relief he’s begging so sweetly for. Your teeth nip gently at his neck in approval before wrapping your hand around him and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Like this?”

“Gods, yes.”

You continue to kiss along his neck, stroking his length just the way he likes it, drawing the sweetest whimpers and moans from him. The water laps against his chest at your movements and his nipples harden at the sensation. He’s never felt so sensitive. 

When your lips pepper kisses along one of his wings, he loses his resolve. His stomach tightens and he lets out a deep groan followed by a string of curses as he comes undone. His eyes flutter shut in pure bliss.

You kiss his temple. “Good boy.”

He doesn’t know if it's your words or the aftermath of his orgasm but that exhilarating buzz returns to his skin and he can feel the sinful liquid coursing through his veins again. More, more, more.

His eyes snap open and he stands abruptly, prompting you to do the same.

Water traces sinuous paths down his body, leaving glistening trails in their wake as he steps out from the bath. His wings unfurl behind him and his frenzied shadows disperse. Azriel’s gaze darkens until there’s only traces of hazel left behind, mirroring the gradual darkening of his shadows that envelop the room, casting an ethereal aura upon him. 

He looks like a god. 

Your knees tremble and you find yourself leaning against the counter behind you for support. His keen eyes pick up on the subtle movement, lips curling into a smirk. “You liked having me at your mercy? Hearing me beg for you, didn’t you?

You don’t answer but you don’t need to.

“My sweet girl,” he purrs as he steps forward and you clench your thighs in anticipation. “I can smell you.”

Long gone is the soft and whimpering male from moments ago. It’s as if a flip was switched from the intensity of his release. In his place, stands something darker and primal. He approaches you like you’re his prey and cages you in, his wet body pressing into yours. You keep your eyes on his, letting out a shaky breath when you feel something hard against your stomach. His smirk widens. 

“You’re all wet,” you protest weakly as you look up at him.

His hand caresses your face, a thumb sweeping in a long stroke along the side of your throat as he leans down and inhales sharply. “So are you.”

He nips at your neck the same way you did to him, his hand undoing the front laces of your dress. “It’s my turn to have my way with you, to have you at my mercy.”

Your dress pools at your feet followed by your underwear and he steps back, eyes tracing every contour of your bare body in deep appreciation. Mine, mine, mine. Dark tendrils curl around you, caressing every place his eyes do and if your scent had not given you away, the shadows would’ve. As they travel lower, they meet your dripping core, humming with eagerness. A cool stroke against your clit as a small moan escaping from your lips and when his eyes lifts back up to meet yours, there’s pure lust simmering in his heated gaze.

A slight pressure against your shoulders has you giving in and dropping to your knees in submission. It’s a silent agreement that you’re his to use and only his and he nearly growls at the sight. Desire consumes him like a raging storm, unleashing a torrent of unbridled passion. He’s filled with the primal urge to claim you and devour you in its wake. He brushes a hand against your face when you look up at him, thumb brushing against your lips.

“Open.” 

You do and your tongue eagerly swirls around the digit before sucking it into your mouth. He lets out a hum of approval, slipping his thumb out from your mouth with a pop. His hand buries itself into your hair, tilting your face the way he wants it while his other hand pumps his throbbing cock. 

He doesn’t have to ask. Your hand is already wrapping nicely around the base of him with the guidance of his shadows. You lean in to flick your tongue across his leaking head.

“Fuck,” he hisses as you take him into your mouth. His head tilts back, lost in the pleasure, barely giving you any time to accommodate his impressive length before pushing his hips forward. “So good for me.”

He begins to thrust, the hand buried into your hair guiding you to move in rhythm with him. He allows his shadows to continue to touch you and they brush along your folds, teasing your entrance. They rub against your clit and it doesn’t take them long to bring a wave of pleasure crashing over you. You’re moaning, sending delicious vibrations straight through him. His pace quickens, thrusting deeper with every snap of his hips.

“That’s it. Take it all.” he groans, digging his nails into your scalp. He holds you flush against his pelvis while you gag on him. Tears prick your eyes at the stretch but you’re desperate to bring him to his release and swallow around him. “Oh fuck.”

He feels the coil in his stomach about to snap and he wants to give in to it, to cum down your throat and make you swallow every drop. But there’s a voice inside his head, a deep and primal urge of need, that has him pulling away abruptly.

“Come here,” he says with a low growl as he beckons you to your feet and as soon as you're standing to your full height, his lips are slotting over yours in a heated kiss. 

He presses his body further into yours and you can feel every inch of him vibrating, his entire body pulsing with need. His skin feels so hot against yours and as his shadows envelop you both, you’re stuck in a dance of fire and ice. The dark tendrils disperse and you realize you’re in your bedroom now. You almost want to laugh. The walk from your bathroom to your bedroom is a short one but your mate is keen on not wasting anymore time.

His scarred hands are rough on your hips as he spins you around and presses your front against the bed. “I need to fuck you.”

You arch your back for him. “Please.”

Deep heat spreads over his skin at your whiny and desperate tone. He slaps your ass, reminding you that he’s in complete control now. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” you’re begging and he loves every second of it, his cock twitching in anticipation. “I need your cock so bad.”

One hand kneads the soft flesh of your ass while the other pumps his cock. He drags his thick length along your folds, coating it in your arousal. “I’m going to fill you up so good. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes.”

He pushes into you, reveling in the way your walls are wrapping around him. You’re so warm, so tight and he’s already completely lost in the pleasure. He doesn’t give you time he normally does to adjust to his thick length. He thrusts so deep into you, your hands are clenching around your silk sheets. He fucks into you ravenously like a man starved, hands gripping onto your hips so hard you’re sure you’ll bruise.

“Going to cum so deep inside you until you’re full with my seed.”

Your face falls forward from the strength of his thrusts, knees giving out. He sees you struggling to get back on your knees so he pulls you flush against his chest with a hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing slightly. You cry out at the new angle that has you seeing stars. His breath is hot and heavy and he brings his mouth to your ear. 

“Perhaps, I’ll fuck a baby into you so everyone knows you’re mine and only mine.”

“Gods, yes,” you cry out, clenching around him, his words bringing you so close to your release.

A deep growl resonates from his chest. He can feel everything you’re feeling through the bond. You want this as much as he does. The mere image of your body changing, swelling with his child has him quickening his pace. His brain fogs and he gives himself completely to that primal desire that was brought to surface by the aphrodisiac.

Bringing his free hand to your stomach, his fingers tease at the flesh right over where he can feel the bulge of his cock as he pounds deep into you, right where your womb would grow with his seed. All he can hear are the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and your pretty moans.

One brush of his thumb across your clit has your thighs shaking and screaming out his name as you reach your peak. He can feel his own release trembling underneath his skin. A couple more thrusts and wave after wave of immense pleasure courses through him. His cock twitches and then he’s spilling thick ropes of cum into you, groaning as your walls spasm and contract around him. He cums so hard, he can feel his release running down your thighs.

He pulls out just long enough to turn you so you’re on your back. A sinful smirk graces his lips at your blissed out expression but he’s nowhere near done with you. He’s still so painfully hard. More, more, more.

Positioning himself between your legs, he sinks into the delicious warmth of your hot dripping core, both moaning when he bottoms out. 

“Please.” Tears stream down your face and you’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for. You’re so sensitive, hands clenching so tightly onto the sheets as he drags his cock over and over that deep spot inside you. “Azriel, I don’t think I can–”

“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he interrupts sharply with a growl, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess beneath him. 

“Az—oh fuck.”

“You’re so perfect for me.”

His arms wrap beneath your shoulders to mold your body to his and he presses hot, feverish kisses down your neck and chest. His lips then slot over yours, stealing your breath away. When you moan into his mouth, he swallows it and eases his tongue into you, urgently exploring every crevice of your mouth.

He’s well aware that the elixir he accidentally took has amplified his every sense. Yet, amidst his heightened state, his love and adoration for you, so deep and genuine, remains the most enchanting potion he has ever known. The candles flicker with the green glow of your magic and he continues his brutal pace, immersing himself in the pleasure of it all with a strong determination for you both to reach another painfully delicious release.

**

Azriel blinks his eyes open and his heart melts at the sight of you, his beautiful mate, curled up in his arms. The tenderness of the morning light casts a warm glow over you, highlighting the delicate curves of your face. He gently reaches out to trace a strand of your hair, relishing the softness beneath his touch. A stark contrast to the way he handled you last night. He knows you're awake when he feels you tug on the golden strings of the bond, flooding him with a profound sense of pure happiness that seeps into every corner of his being.

“I love you so much.”

“Good morning to you too,” you say, your voice still thick with sleep, but a hint of a smile on your face.

You stretch out your sore muscles and Azriel’s eyes flash with concern when the sheets drift lower. He catches a glimpse of the bruises littering your body and you can feel a flicker of guilt down the bond. “Are you–fuck. Was I too rough? I’m so–”

You shift in the bed and silence him with a soft kiss. When you pull away, you smile at him, sending a wave of reassurance down the bond because while yes he was rough, you loved it.

“You were perfect.”

He sits up in bed and when he finds no trace of hurt or regret of how rough he was with you last night in your features, he finally relaxes and returns your smile. 

Your smile falters. “If anything, I’m sorry. It was my mistake that you drank that aphrodisiac. I made it for Nesta and I knew I should’ve stored that sneaky elixir somewhere safer but it wasn't too bad, right?”

Now it’s Azriel’s turn to brush away your concern and he shakes his head at you with a deep chuckle. "It wasn't bad at all. I enjoyed every part of your mistake."

“The best mistake I’ve ever made,” you grin and he laughs with you, his shadows dancing happily around his shoulders.

“What was in that elixir anyway?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean? It’s an aphrodisiac, it stimulates sexual desire.”

“I know what an aphrodisiac is,” he replies and he feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh gods, he was going to have to say this outloud.  “I’m talking about the way I was filled with the primal urge to–to breed you.”

“Oh,” you say and laugh again at the look bewildered look Azriel was giving you. “That was all you.”

You sit up and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s gaze flickers down to your bare body. Reaching out, you coax his gaze back to yours.

“My magic does not work that way, remember? It can’t create and destroy desires. It can only bring to surface what’s already lurking deep within."

Your eyes are alight with amusement as realization dawns on your mate. He’s flustered but only for a fleeting moment. The corner of his lips curve up and when your hand begins to move from his cheek, he places his own over it to keep it there.

“You wanted it as much as I did.”

“I did.”

There’s a warmth radiating from his heart that is so strong, you can feel it too. His hazel eyes hold onto yours with an intensity that goes beyond words, and when he speaks again, there’s a delicate vulnerability to his voice because in the year since you’ve been mated, this is a topic you’ve yet to discuss.

“You want to have children…with me?”

“Yes.” The response spills from your lips without a moment’s hesitation and his entire being seems to shudder in response. “Do you?”

"Of course I do," he breathes out, sealing his words with a tender kiss to the palm of your hand that has your heart fluttering. “I want everything with you.”

“I want everything with you too.”

Happiness dances in his eyes. Azriel is not a selfish man, always putting others’ wants and needs before his own. He had even accepted that meeting his mate was an unattainable dream. That is, until you came along, dismantling the walls he had spent centuries constructing around himself.

You, a manifestation of his long-buried dreams and wishes, emerged as a living, breathing reality. The selfish desire to have everything with you consumes him, even more so when your desires always seem to mirror his. You're his perfect match and he doesn't know what he did to deserve you. He can only thank the Cauldron, forever indebted to it for entwining your soul with his.

Overwhelmed by his profound emotions, tears brim in his eyes and you're kissing them away before they can escape, smiling when his lips capture yours afterwards. He pours everything into the kiss. It starts soft and sweet but quickly morphs into something more as he brings his hands to your neck.

He pulls away, rolling over to hover over you in your bed, bracing strong arms on either side of you. He kisses your nose and lowers his body until his lips are hovering over right where your heart is racing. Another kiss.

Heat pools down and your breath hitches when he pauses at your stomach to press a kiss there. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He murmurs and you can feel his grin against your skin as he settles himself between your legs. He hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, slowly running his tongue up your thigh. The gesture draws a soft sound from you that he will never tire of hearing.

“I’m worshiping the mother of my future children.”

a/n: the bath scene was purely inspired by this because hot damn 🥵 If you'd like to read more about Green witch & Az, the link is below! I do have some fics of their children up.

[series masterlist]

[kashverse]

*inhales* PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE US MORE TEACHER NANAMI AND TEACHER READER OLEASE I AM BEGGING ON MY KNEES I PROMISE TO GIVE YOU MY FIRST CHILD EVERYTHING YIU NEED PLEASE JUST GIVE US MORE TEACHER NANAMIII 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

everyone keep their children to themselves...!!!

the day nanami realized he was madly in love with you was not some dramatic, earth-shattering moment. no, it was when he walked into your classroom, expecting to borrow a simple whiteboard marker, and instead found you holding a live pigeon like some kind of disney princess. "why," he began slowly, blinking at the scene before him, "are you holding a pigeon?"

"oh, hey, nanami," you greeted him, as if nothing about this situation was abnormal. "meet genie."

"genie." he repeated, tone flat.

"yeah! the kids wanted to name him 'mr. pipi,' but, you know… obvious reasons."

nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. "right. obvious reasons."

the children were gathered around you, eyes wide with wonder, absolutely enchanted by the pigeon sitting comfortably in your hands. the bird, for whatever reason, looked completely at peace. in fact, it looked happy. "we were talking about birds today," you explained cheerfully. "and i thought, what better way to learn than with a real one?"

"and how did you acquire a real one?" nanami asked, already dreading the answer.

"i found him in the parking lot. he just let me pick him up."

"of course he did," nanami muttered, because if there was anyone who could just randomly befriend a pigeon, it was you. as you continued your enthusiastic (if wildly inaccurate) explanation of bird anatomy, nanami barely registered the nonsense leaving your mouth.

“this is his wing, and he uses it to flap around.”

("very informative," nanami murmured sarcastically.)

“this is his beak, it's like a built-in spoon!”

("i'm going to pretend i didn't hear that.")

“and his feathers help him fly, just like how airplanes have wings!”

("you are personally offending every biologist alive.")

but the kids were enamored. they nodded along, absolutely believing every word you said. meanwhile, nanami’s class—who had followed him like little ducklings—stood in the doorway crying about how they wanted a pigeon too.

"mr. nanami, it's not fair!"

"we wanna see genie too!"

"why does their class get a cool bird and we don’t?!"

nanami sighed. “we are not getting a pigeon.”

a week later, nanami's class had a hamster named pringles. “so,” you said, leaning against his desk as he watched pringles roll around in his little enclosure, “how does it feel, being out-parented?”

"we are not their parents," nanami deadpanned.

"aren't we?" you grinned. "i mean, we literally argued over pet custody. we had meetings to ensure genie and pringles had separate, safe spaces. you had a full-blown existential crisis when genie tried to eat pringles."

nanami massaged his temples. "genie should not have been near pringles in the first place."

"oh, so now you agree with me?" you teased. he sighed. "i always agreed with you. i just—" he cut himself off, lips pressing into a thin line. you tilted your head. "just what?"

he glanced at you, at the way you smiled at him so effortlessly, and he felt the realization hit him like a freight train. 

he was so incredibly, hopelessly in love with you.

"...nothing," he muttered. "i'm going to lunch."

"oh! combined lunch today?"

"no."

you laughed, and nanami hated how it made his heart race.

[swytdoll]

୨ৎ𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮: kento is suffocating in the monotony of his overworked life. the endless cycle of deadlines and paperwork has drained the color from his days. yet, amidst this gray routine, the pretty little office siren has captured his attention more than he cares to admit. he wonders how it would feel to bend you over his desk.

୨ৎ𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐸𝒩𝒯 𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢: any color can read<3 size difference ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა blowjob, female oral, choking, foot job, unprotected sex, cream-pie, explicit language, kento fucks you against a penthouse window, facial, nanami just can’t keep his hands off of his pretty little coworker 𖥔 ݁˖

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄!𝐍𝐀N𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

A siren.

In the realm of mythology, a siren is often depicted as an ethereal and enchanting creature. That’s what he’d deemed you to be, a ghoul that had somehow beguiled the blonde man. Your snug blouses revealed just enough to spark curiosity, while your pencil skirts highlighted your smooth, strawberry-freckled legs beneath sheer pantyhose. He’d fantasized about your legs on numerous nights—nights where he’d stroke his cock sore at the thought of his pretty coworker. You consistently donned the most stunning heels, and he imagined the sensation of that sharp heel gliding down his chest.

Kento’s thoughts were consumed by you, the office siren who had ensnared him in her web. Each day, your presence became a tantalizing torment, your laughter a melody that echoed in his mind long after you left the room. The way you’d lean over his desk, your perfume intoxicating and your smile just a bit too knowing, left him breathless. His fantasies grew bolder, more vivid, as he imagined those heels pressing into his skin, marking him as yours. The line between desire and obsession blurred, and Kento found himself willingly lost in the depths of his longing for you.

Every interaction became a game of cat and mouse, with Kento always on edge, anticipating your next move. The subtle brush of your fingers against his arm, the way your eyes lingered on his lips for just a moment too long—it all drove him wild. He craved the touch of your skin, the feel of your breath against his neck, and the taste of your lips. His dreams became a playground of forbidden desires, where you were his and he was yours.

Office!Nanami who usually skipped work parties, preferring the quiet of his penthouse to the noise and crowd. But tonight was different. He was itching to see you more, to catch another glimpse of the woman who had been occupying his thoughts. So here he was, sitting in the corner with a wine glass perched in his hand, making small talk with coworkers and keeping an eye on the door.

Office!Nanami who’s pulse quickened as he spotted you through the doorway, the soft light casting a glow on your skin. You were absolutely radiant, dressed in a slinky black dress that accentuated your curves. The hemline stopped just below your ass, leaving your legs exposed and making Kento’s mouth water.

You entered the room, greeted by a chorus of hellos and hugs from various coworkers. He watched as you made your way around the room, always the center of attention. He noticed the way your gaze seemed to linger on him for a moment longer than the others, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. The air between you crackled with electricity, the tension palpable. Kento took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm, to not give away the effect you had on him.

He waited until you were alone, nursing a drink and chatting with one of the interns. The poor kid was practically drooling over you, his face flushed as he leaned in a little too close. Kento felt a flash of jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion that surprised him. He rose from his seat and strode over to you, his gaze fixed on your face.

You smiled as he approached, your eyes sparkling with mischief. He introduced himself to the intern, a brief nod all the acknowledgment he gave the young man. The kid took the hint and scampered off, leaving you alone with Kento.

A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth, eyes scanning the man from head to toe. You hummed appreciatively, making Kento bite his lip to suppress a groan. “You clean up well Nanami.” The blonde is wearing a tight-fitting dress shirt and slacks that accentuate his toned body. His blonde hair is swept back, revealing his strong jaw and cheekbones.

His amber eyes burn with a hunger that makes your core throb. “Yeah?” He moves closer, invading your personal space. He can smell your perfume, a heady mix of jasmine and vanilla, and it has his dick jumping.

Office! Nanami who practically falls in love with you as you ride his dick in the back of his BMW, dress hiked up as you fluidly roll your hips on his thickness. “oh my god, i’ve wanted this for so long.”

Office! Nanami who during office hours, steals quick, heated kisses with you in the supply closet when no one is looking. The thrill of possibly getting caught makes the encounters even more exciting.

The two of you send each other flirty emails throughout the day, filled with inside jokes and suggestive comments. Each email is a coded message, making his mundane workday much more interesting.

Office!Nanami who after everyone has left the office, meets you in your cubicle. Calloused strong hands pulling up your skirt, revealing your bare pussy. “You’re so nasty.” The overworked man is practically drooling as his fucks his sore cock into you, whimpering.

Office!Nanami who fucks you against the window in his penthouse, the city lights blurring as he ruts into you. “Such a pretty view.”

Office!Nanami who grits his teeth as you stroke his leg with your foot underneath the table at a meeting. The subtle touch drives him crazy, and the way you’re so nonchalant drives him even crazier.

Office! Nanami who eats your pussy in the elevator, fingers digging into your flesh as he laps eagerly at your swollen clit. You cry his name sweetly, hands tugging at dirty blonde roots which makes him groan deeply.

Office!Nanami who gets jealous when you’re talking to other male coworkers. “Can he make you feel like this?” his voice is harsh, leaking cock sliding against your walls. Pale hands spreading your cheeks, his eyes watching as your slick glistens on him.

Office!Nanami who babbles out he loves you when you give him a foot-job. “mmgh—ah fuck i love you!”

Office!Nanami who cries when you suck him off underneath his desk, blowing his load on your face. Then he fucks you, fucks you until his cum is spilling from your spent cunt.

Office!Nanami who always brings you coffee in the morning, having memorized your order. “Here love, just how you like it.”

Office! Nanami who begs to stay at your house every other night, claiming he can’t sleep without you. “Pleaseeeee?”

Office!Nanami who wakes you up with his head between your legs, hands holding your thighs apart. “It’s okay beautiful, go back to sleep. I’m just hungry” he hums, pulling apart your sticky folds. “Kento. . . “ you’re seeing stars as he rolls the bud between his fingertips, pressing soft pecks on your inner thighs.

Office!Nanami who ties his tie around your neck as he fucks you in the break room, eyes rolling back as you squeeze around him, clearly turned on by the man choking you.

Office!Nanami who just can’t get enough of his pretty office siren.

[jongupscrookedteeth]

NU'EST, Minhyun -

fairy moodboard

Please note that I created the collage but the photos are not mine credit to original owners.

[lunaa-runee]

Ryomen Sukuna gets a new nanny for his son.

Minors DNI. WC: 4.9K

CW: Noncurse AU, DILF!CEO!Sukuna, smut, creampie, implied multiple rounds, kinda mean Sukuna, Sukuna is not great with feelings, broken promises, Yuji is Sukuna's son, there will probably be a part 2 to this story

You glanced up from the crumpled slip of paper in your hand, which bore the address of your new employer. The sleek glass building loomed ahead, reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display. The hum of the city filled the air, heightening the nervous flutter in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you pushed through the heavy revolving door, entering this new chapter of your life.

As you entered, you spotted a security guard. He was in his 40s, wearing a simple uniform and donning a hat with bits of his salt and pepper hair sticking out at the bottom. The man offered you a slight smile and said, "Can I help you, ma'am?"

You nodded, "Yes, please. I’m here for Ryomen Sukuna.”

"Could I see your ID miss?" You pulled out your wallet, pulling out and handing over your ID to him. He examined the card silently, peering at you occasionally before turning his attention towards the computer. You nervously twiddled with your fingers as you waited. "Thank you miss l/n. You'll want to take the last elevator down the hall to the right. That is the only one that can take you to the penthouse. Mrs. Ono will meet you at the door."

He handed your ID back. "Okay, thank you."

"Of course, good luck miss. You're gonna need it," he whispered the last bit. His words made you hesitate, a sense of apprehension settling in your gut.

You found the elevator waiting for you. As you stepped inside, you pressed the button to take you to your destination. As the elevator began to rise, a wave of anticipation washed over you, and you instinctively rubbed your sweaty palms against the worn fabric of your jeans.

The elevator's ding announced your arrival, the doors opening to a breathtaking atrium. You stepped, your eyes taking in the stunning entry. A lofty ceiling with a domed skylight flooded the space with natural light. Exquisite stained glass cast colorful patterns on the cream-colored walls, creating an enchanting atmosphere like something from a Bridgerton book.

"Miss l/n?" Your eyes snapped to the double doors opposite the elevator. You had become so mesmerized that you hadn't even paid any attention to the large double doors that entered the residence. A sweet-looking woman in her late 40s or early 50s stood in the doorway. Her outfit was plain, with regular jeans and a tucked-in red polo, with black hair and a few white hairs slicked back into a tight bun. Her smile was genuine as she greeted you. "You're here! I was beginning to believe Mr. Sukuna had scared off every possible nanny the agency had to offer!"

You offer a quick bow. Her words remind you of the doorman's comments. How many nannies has this man employed? "Uh, yes. Hello. You must be Mrs. Ono?"

"I am!" The woman ushered you in, "Come in, please. I'm so happy you're here."

Entering the home, you are welcomed by a spacious entryway with high ceilings, similar to those outside. The apartment features a modern design, with a large staircase leading to the upper level on the right. Just beyond the stairs is the living room, which boasts floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city of Tokyo.

"Welcome! My name is Asami Ono, I am Mr. Sukuna's house keeper," she chuckled. "How about a tour?"

The tour went well, but the condo turned out to be larger than you had expected. It featured a spacious kitchen, living room, and dining room. There were four bedrooms, one of which was yours since you would live there as a nanny. The home was simply decorated and appeared staged, not lived-in. There wasn't even a single photo displayed.

On the tour, you discovered that Mrs. Ono was only meant to be a part-time housekeeper. However, with the sudden departure of the last nanny, she took on the temporary role of caring for Yuji, Ryomen Sukuna's son.

"And here," Ms. Ono paused at a door at the end of the hallway on the second floor. "Is your room."

She opened the door, revealing a spacious bedroom. You entered and placed your luggage by the door, taking in the room's appearance. The room had hardwood floors with a simple gray rug at its center. To the right was a plush queen-sized bed, and to the left was a door that led to a bathroom.

"You have your own bathroom, and Yuji's room is down the room across the hall. Do you have any questions?"

"When will Yuji and Mr. Sukuna arrive?"

"Yuji's at a friend's today. I thought it best that we get you settled in before you meet him," she said simply. "Yuji is a sweet boy, but he can be a handful. As for Mr. Sukuna, his work keeps him busy, but I am sure you'll cross paths with him eventually."

"I see," you hum. This wasn't the first job you had taken with parents that made themselves scarce; it was common in your work.

"Well, if you have no other questions, I will leave you to settle in." She nodded toward the desk in the corner of the room. "Everything you need to know, like Yuji's schedule and food preferences, is on the desk for you. I'll be downstairs preparing dinner if you need anything."

You spent the next couple of hours unpacking and familiarizing yourself with everything you needed to know about your newest client. There was little information about Mr. Sukuna that you didn't already know: he was a single dad and the CEO of a large corporation. Most of the information focused on his son, Yuji. The provided picture showed a young boy with pink hair and a bright smile. According to the schedule and details, he was just your average 4-year-old.

When you made your way downstairs, the sun had begun to set. A delicious and comforting aroma filled the air as you entered the kitchen. "It smells fantastic in here."

Mrs. Ono gave you a warm smile as she continued to stir the contents of the pot. "Good, I hope you're hungry."

"Mrs. Ono, I'm home."

Mrs. Ono wiped her hands on her apron and gave you a small smile before peeking her head around the corner toward the entryway. "Yuji," Mrs. Ono called out. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Yuji entered the kitchen, his eyes falling on you with interest. He paused; you could already see the whirlwind of questions he was bursting to ask you behind his bright eyes. "Hello, I'm Yuji."

"Hello Yuji," you crouched down, meeting him at his eye level before smiling. "My name is F/N L/N, but you can call me F/N if you would like."

Mrs. Ono patted Yuji's mop of pink hair as she spoke. "Yuji, this will be your new nanny."

Yuji tilted his head. "Do you like to paint?

"I love to paint," you giggled as you watched Yuji's expression transform into pure excitement, his smile bright as he buzzed with joy.

The evening unfolded smoothly. Mrs. Ono left shortly after dinner, eager to return home to her husband. Yuji was put to bed not long after that.

After spending a few more hours in your room, unwinding and watching a movie, you finally decide to call it a night. You go downstairs to the kitchen for a drink, noticing the light is still on as you go to the kitchen for a drink. Did you forget to turn it off before?

As you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you suddenly stopped. Leaning against the counter was a large man. His eyes were closed, and the back of his head rested against a kitchen cabinet. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, as he held a glass of whiskey in his right hand. You could see the black lines of tattoos peeking through his thin dress shirt, and you recognized the familiar shade of pink hair.

Was this Yuji's dad?

Lost in thought, you accidentally bumped into the side table by the kitchen entry. The man's eyes snapped to you.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped, standing to his full height. His beautiful yet intimidating eyes burned into you from across the room. His lips pressed into a tight line as he waited for your response. "Well?"

You flinched at his harsh tone. "I-I'm the new n-nanny."

Setting down his drink, he saunters towards you. His eyes, intense and unwavering, never leaving you. He reminded you of a predator, and you were the prey.

"So you are my son's new nanny," he said, circling you. "Let's hope you're more competent than the last one."

The familiar beep of your alarm jerked you awake. How was it already morning? You had gotten very little rest, as your mind was filled with thoughts about your new employer—some less than pure thoughts.

With a groan, you threw your covers off your body to begin your day. 

The first thing you did was start the coffee. It would be a long day, and you needed every bit of energy you could get. The sound of the front door caught your attention just as you started breakfast. Conflicting emotions of excitement and a tinge of fear struck you at the possibility of Ryomen Sukuna rounding the corner.

“Hello,” disappointment floods you at the sound of Mrs. Ono’s voice. 

You shake off your disappointment, returning to your task at hand, before calling out to Mrs. Ono. “Hi. I’m in the kitchen!”

The older woman walked into the kitchen smiling, setting her bag on the counter. “Good morning, dear! How was your first night? Did everything go alright?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Yuji was perfect.”

“Ah yes, not surprising. He’s a good boy.”

You nod in agreement, but your thoughts wander to your peculiar encounter with Yuji's father. Despite the briefness of your interaction, you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between father and son. "Mrs. Ono," you start, feeling uncertain. "Could you tell me more about Mr. Sukuna?"

Mrs. Ono raised a brow, “did something happen?”

"No," you replied almost too quickly, trying to avoid eye contact as you pretended to concentrate entirely on the pancakes you were making. "Well, kind of. I met him last night."

The air grew tense. At first, you were worried you had done something wrong.

“What did he do? Did he say something?” Her normal cheerful tone shifted to something teetering on anger. Still, it was clear the anger was not directed towards you. The response confirmed your suspicions of a possible issue between Ryomen and the previous nannies. 

“He didn’t actually do anything,” you explain the brief interaction to her.

“That man,” she huffed. “Mr. Sukuna is a complicated man with very high standards, especially regarding his son. This has resulted in…difficulties in keeping a long term nanny for Yuji.”

“What kind of difficulties,” you inquire. A feeling of apprehension blooming. 

“If one thing goes wrong, the nanny would be out for some of the most ridiculous reasons. Things such as Yuji getting a scrapped knee at the park or Yuji being upset over something the nanny couldn’t control. Some have just quit, too, after meeting Mr. Sukuna. He can be a bit intimidating, as you can imagine, and temperamental.”

You could imagine. “Why is he so difficult then? How do you handle it?”

“Mr. Sukuna didn’t have it easy growing up, I’m afraid, but that’s all I can really say about that,” a pained expression on her face. “I've known him for many years, and I know under his tough exterior he is a good man who wants the best for his son.”

Your thoughts swirled at Mrs. Ono’s words, leaving you more curious about your employer. You peered at the clock; it was well past 7 a.m. now. “I should wake Yuji; I wouldn’t want him late for school.”

“Did you make pancakes?” You and Mrs. Ono looked at the kitchen entryway. There stood a sleepy-looking Yuji, still in his pajamas and clutching his teddy bear.

“We sure did,” you said with a significant smile, holding the stake pancakes. “Hope you’re hungry." 

Yuji's face brightened at the sight, and he rushed to his place at the table, eager to have breakfast.

You had developed a soft spot for Yuji in just two short weeks of working for the Sukuna's. He was a ray of sunshine in your eyes; his contagious optimism never failed to bring a smile to your face. Even at such a young age, Yuji displayed so much selflessness. He became your little helper, always going out of his way to help you with chores, cooking, shopping, etc.

“No,” Yuji laughed as he saw your version of a dog you had painted. 

“What do you mean no?” Tonight, you and Yuji were spending a night in, Yuji begging for an arts and crafts night. You had agreed to set up the kitchen table with paint, crayons, and glitter. The works, really.

“That’s not a dog!” He giggled, bringing his paintbrush to your canvas. “That looks like a yucky blob.”

You fake gasped as you clutched your chest. “Good sir, are you saying I’m horrible at painting?” He nodded, a shy giggle coming from the young boy. In one swift motion, you pulled Yuji into your lap, tickling his sides. The young boy laughed as he wiggled in your grasp. “Take it back.”

“No,” he yelled. 

The exchange continued until the sound of a cleared throat made you freeze. Standing in the entryway was Ryomen. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his eyes had an unusual softness. You hadn't even noticed the door opening; how long had he been standing there?

“Daddy!” Yujji cheered as he sprung from your lap, launching at his father's legs, causing Ryomen to tense. “Daddy, miss l/n, and I were making some art. Can you come paint with me, please?”

“I’m not really a painter, Yuji,” his father responded.

“That’s okay, miss l/n isn’t very good either but she’s still painting!”

“Yuji,” you exclaimed.

Yuji snickered, a small huff escaping Ryomen’s lips. “Please daddy? Pretty please daddy,” Yuji begged. 

“Fine,” he sighed. Yuji cheered as he took his father’s hand, leading him to your table. 

Watching Ryomen Sukuna, a figure known for his massive and intimidating presence, sit cross-legged on the floor was a sight to behold. He was surprisingly gentle as he painted together with his son. This version of Ryomen contrasted sharply with his usual fierce demeanor.

This unexpected moment of tenderness was heartwarming. It took every ounce of restraint not to grab your phone and capture the scene before you.

“What,” Ryomen spat. “Do I have something on my face?”

Heat flooded your face as the tender moment came to an abrupt halt. You hadn’t even realized you were staring. Shaking your head, you said, “No. Sorry, sir.”

His lips moved into a smirk, eyes scanning your own work. “Tch. Yuji was right. You really can’t paint."

Like father like son.

What began as arts and crafts evolved into a movie as time passed. To your surprise, Ryomen chose to join in.

You had made a large bowl of popcorn for the three of you to share. You settled on one side of the couch while Ryomen took the other. About halfway through the movie, Yuji grew tired; it was well past his bedtime, so it was no surprise. He curled up on his side, his head resting on your lap and his feet touching his father's thigh.

As the end credits began rolling, you gently ran your fingers through Yuji's hair. "I guess it's bedtime," you whispered, turning your head to face Ryomen.

Your breath caught in your throat as you noted his intense stare. While there was no warmth in his features, something in his eyes hinted otherwise. “I should get Yuji to bed.”

“No,” he said firmly. You watched curiously as he stepped towards you, bending down to pluck Yuji from your embrace. “I’ll do it.”

You swallowed hard as you watched the two walk away before shaking yourself from the daze. There was still cleanup to do, and it seemed like a good distraction.

You were about halfway through washing the dishes when Ryomen walked in. “He’s in bed.”

“Good,” you spoke, not looking up. 

You expected him to leave, but to your surprise, he walked towards you, grabbed a rag, and began to dry the dishes. You started to protest, but Ryomen quickly hushed you, and a comfortable silence settled between you both.

It felt so domestic.

"Yuji seems happy," he spoke suddenly.

"He's a happy kid," you agree. "A good kid actually. He always wants to help everyone with everything."

"I don't know where he gets that from," Ryomen grunted as he dried the last dish. When you looked at each other, there was a heavy silence as your gazes met. Suddenly, Ryomen reached out, his warm hand cupping his cheek. His thumb delicately brushes under your eye. A surge of electricity coursed through you at the touch.

"You had paint." He pulled his hand back as he spoke but kept his gaze locked with yours. He moved closer to you, his warmth enveloping your body. You craved even more closeness from him, yearning for his touch and the chance to touch him in return. But just when you thought it might happen, he stepped away and cleared his throat. "It's getting late, you should probably get some rest."

"R-right," you agreed, embarrassed at your taboo thoughts. "Goodnight,".You quickly retreated to your bedroom, needing to create as much distance between yourself and Ryomen as possible.

Things changed after that night. Ryomen began to be around more, coming home occasionally in the evenings. Sometimes, he would join us for dinner or a movie. These visits were never planned; he would simply show up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Yuji as happy as he is now. With each interaction, you see Ryomen in a new light. The man you once thought was intimidating now shows a softer side with his son.

During these times, Ryomen's attitude towards you shifted as well. It wasn't uncommon that you would spy his eyes on you, that devilish smirk gracing his lips. Or when you would pass him something, his touch would linger, leaving you wanting more. And when Yuji was put to bed, Ryomen would always come down and help you tidy up no matter how much you protested.

It seemed so natural.  

As the weeks went by and the seasons shifted, the fall play approached. Yuji proudly announced that he had been cast as the Big Bad Wolf. Yuji was over the moon about it, and the next time he saw his dad, Yuji made him a pinky promise that he would go see him perform.

A few nights before the play, you sat at the kitchen table, putting the finishing touches on Yuji’s costume for the next day while sipping wine. Ryomen had come home for dinner and taken over Yuji’s nighttime routine, for which you were very grateful.

“Yuji’s asleep,” Ryomen said as he entered the kitchen. You hummed in response, watching him grab a glass of whiskey before sitting opposite you. As he sipped his drink, you couldn’t help but secretly admire the man before you. Even in his relaxed state, his presence was hard to ignore. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table while holding his drink in one hand. “The costume looks good,” he remarked.

“It better,” you snorted. “I’ve been working on it long enough.”

He chuckled. “He’s really excited about this play.”

“That’s Yuji for you. Always excited and happy, one of the many things I’ve learned to love about the kid.” You sat back, holding up the costume proudly, “Finished!”

Ryomen whistled, “Guess we have reason to celebrate.” 

You put the costume aside as Ryomen tops off your glass of wine and pours himself another glass of whiskey. You raise a brow as you return to your seat. “So we are celebrating me finishing a costume?”

“Not just any costume, but the most amazing big bad wolf costume,” he emphasizes the words "big bad" as he leans closer to you, bringing his drink to his lips.

"It's late." You stand, a slight buzz from the wine. That was your signal that staying here would lead to nothing good, especially with the hungry eyes Ryomen was giving you. "I should go to bed."

Ryomen grabbed your wrist, giving you pause as you stared back at him. His eyes pleading. "Don't go."

It's unclear who made the first move, but suddenly, everything is happening at once. Feverish hands are roaming over your skin as clothes are hastily discarded, leaving you in only your underwear. Ryomen lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before placing you on the kitchen table.

His lips moved down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your mouth to your chest. Ryomen pulls down your bra, exposing your perked nipples. As one hand twists and teases one nipple, his mouth eagerly latches onto the other. Your back arches as the sensation takes over your body. Your legs wrap around his waist, forcing his clothed cock to hit your aching core. Your need for release is overwhelming.

"Look at you, already desperate for my cock and I've barely touched you." Ryomen mumbled against your breast.

His lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses and marks in their wake. With each bite and lick, his hunger only grew more intense. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of your panties, pulling them down agonizingly slowly as a twisted smile spread across his face, seeming to enjoy the power he has over you. Subconsciously, you tried to close your legs, only for Ryomen to force them back open.

"Don't," he warned, giving your inner thigh a slap.

Ryomen’s gaze intensified as he took in the sight of you sprawled out on the kitchen table before him. To him, you were like a delicious feast waiting to be devoured. His fingers trailed down your legs, causing your skin to tingle with anticipation before reaching between your thighs. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers ran down your folds.

"So wet," he licked his lips before inserting one of his large fingers. "And tight."

Your head was enveloped in a thick fog as Ryomen’s finger pumped into you at an agonizingly slow pace. His gaze bore into your very soul, from your drenched sex to your trembling face. It was too much to handle; you had to avert your eyes before he consumed you completely.

He withdrew his finger, giving your clit a firm slap that elicited a yelp from your mouth. "Don't look away," he snarled. You turned back to face the man between your legs, his eyes burning.

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

Ryomen leans over you, his body pressing against yours as he stands. His hands are firmly planted on either side of your shoulders, and you can feel his clothed arousal rubbing against your own heat. A strangled moan escapes your lips at the sensation, causing you to instinctively grind yourself against him. His face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "If you're going to apologize," he murmurs, "do it properly."

"I'm sorry, sir."

“Good girl.” Ryomen’s satisfied grin spread across his face as he drew back, his hand tracing a slow path back to your dripping core. But he granted you no relief, only teasing grazing your clit.

You try to remain calm, but your hands tightly grip the table's edge. You crave more; you desperately need more. "Please," you beg, body trembling. "Don't tease me, sir."

"Hm, you think you deserve more?"

You couldn't believe how desperate you sounded as you replied, "Yes please, I deserve more."

"Since you asked nicely."

He pushed two fingers into you, the sensation flooding your body with pure pleasure. With each powerful pump, his knuckle grazes against your throbbing clit, sending electric shocks through you. Meanwhile, his other hand moved toward your chest, playing with your sensitive nipples. You bite your lip, struggling to suppress the primal moans threatening to escape as the knot in your belly tightens.

You were on the edge of bliss when Ryomen withdrew his hands. Before you could protest, Ryomen listed you off the kitchen table and pressed you against the kitchen counter, Ryomen standing behind you. The rustle of his pants catches your attention, but before you can see what's happening, Ryomen pushes your head down. You uttered a small cry as your face and chest pressed against the cold marble surface.

His fat head is moved up and down your folds. You tilt your head a little, catching a glimpse of Ryomen’s member. "The only place you’re allowed to cum tonight in on my cock," he growls.

Ryomen's throbbing cock plunged deep into your core, igniting a primal fire within you. Your face contorted in ecstasy as Ryomen mercilessly pounded into you with a punishing pace, the force of each thrust causing your hips to slam into the counter you were being pressed against. Pleasure and pain merged into overwhelming bliss.

Ryomen's nails press into the soft flesh of your hips. He adjusts his position, raising you so your feet are no longer touching the ground. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, arching and writhing with each deliberate movement.

Ryomen grips a handful of your hair and pulls you up against his chest, pressing your back into him. He presses his lips into the shell of your ear. "Look at you, completely fucked out. Do you want to cum, my little pet?" His husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes." You gasped, "yes sir please."

He let go of your hair and stepped back, giving his hands full access to your throbbing clit. His fingers rubbed circles on it as he thrust into you more vigorously. Your screams of pleasure are uncontrollable as he hits depths within you that have never been touched before. You cling to the edge of the counter, your face buried into the crook of your arm, trying to muffle your lewd sounds.

Finally, you were pushed off the cliff. The force of your release almost unbearable as shockwaves rippled through your entire body, causing your cunt to spasm uncontrollably. Through the haze of pleasure, you could hear a string of curses escaping from Ryomen. Still, your mind was too occupied with the overwhelming sensations to process anything else. He continued to fuck you relentlessly, each thrust bringing you to tears from the overstimulation. But just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he gave a harsh thrust, fully pushing into you as you felt his warmth fill you.

You stayed in that position for a moment, feeling Ryomen pull out, his cum dripping down your leg.

Your legs felt weak, making you unsure if you could even stand. But before you could attempt it, Ryomen scooped you into his arms and headed towards the stairs with a mischievous smirk. "You didn't think I was finished with you?"

You felt the ache in your body as you woke up in Ryomen’s bed. The man had fulfilled his promise, and you had spent several hours in his bed before succumbing to exhaustion. The fog of lust and alcohol cleared, and reality hits you like a ton of bricks: you had slept with your boss. A wave of panic overcame you. You immediately slipped out of his bed, fearing his reaction if you had stayed until he awoke.

You sat on the edge of your bed, thoughts swirling about what would happen in the morning. Footsteps in the hallway made you sit up as fear gripped your heart. There was a knock at the door, and you held your breath, knowing who stood on the other side. "Y/n," his voice sounded uncertain.

Sliding off your bed, you moved towards the door, opening it just enough to see Ryomen. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The hesitance etched on his face was not something you had seen from him before. "Good morning, sir."

"Listen," he rubbed the back of his neck. "About last night-"

"It was a mistake," you blurted without thinking. You didn't want to hear what he had to say, your heart aching at the list of potential things he would say. "I'm sorry; it was very unprofessional of me."

Ryomen's face twisted in pain, his fist clenched tight, knuckles white. "A mistake, right," he said. He turned to return to his room but paused. In an icy tone, he spoke, "Make sure to clean the kitchen before Yuji wakes up."

If it had been two days since you last spoke to him. Two days since you had slept with him. Now, here you sat alone, watching Yuji's play. No sign of Ryomen anywhere in the crowd.

As the final bows concluded, you noticed Yuji scanning the crowd with his eyes. They brightened when he spotted you, but his smile faded as he looked around you. You instantly realized he understood that his dad had broken his promise.

tag: @zezedoesshit

[badasoneandonly]

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕 || 𝘏𝘞𝘈𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕-𝘏𝘖 × 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘞𝘤: 1,154𝘬

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺:

Y/N endures heartbreak as she suspects In-Ho of cheating but avoids confronting him, fearing loss. Trapped between love and betrayal, she clings to the small remnants of his affection.

𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘙𝘌:

𝘊𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘌𝘙¡ 𝘐𝘕𝘏𝘖!, 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘎𝘐𝘝𝘐𝘕𝘎¡𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙!, 𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌, 𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘚𝘛, 𝘔𝘌𝘓𝘖𝘋𝘙𝘈𝘔𝘈, 𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘙𝘖𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘊𝘛, 𝘉𝘌𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘠𝘈𝘓 𝘙𝘌𝘓𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘗, 𝘚𝘈𝘋 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘉𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘒

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘢 :) 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘸 𝘪'𝘮 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺... 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 ;)

The night was cruel in its quiet. The faint hum of the streetlights outside crept through the drawn curtains, casting pale shadows across the room. Y/N sat on the edge of their shared bed, staring blankly at the wall. Her phone sat on the nightstand, face down, like a secret she didn’t want to uncover.

She already knew the truth.

In-Ho wasn’t at work, nor was he out on a late-night errand as he had claimed. He was with her.

The woman she’d never met but knew existed.

Her chest ached as she glanced at the clock. Midnight. He hadn’t even texted to let her know when—or if—he would come home. It had been this way for weeks now: the late nights, the distant glances, the perfumed scent on his clothes that wasn’t hers. At first, she’d convinced herself it was nothing. That he was just busy. But the signs were too clear, too glaring to ignore.

In-Ho was cheating on her.

“The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume…”

The song played softly in her head, the lyrics cutting into her like glass. She imagined the other woman—poised, confident, everything Y/N wasn’t. She pictured her with In-Ho, laughing at his dry humor, running her fingers through his dark hair, holding his attention in a way Y/N could no longer seem to do.

Her stomach churned at the thought. She wiped her damp palms against the blanket as the clock ticked forward, dragging the night with it. Every second felt like an eternity.

But Y/N didn’t dare confront him.

The fear of losing him entirely outweighed the agony of knowing she already had. What would she do without him? Despite everything, he was still her anchor, her safe haven in a world that often felt too heavy. If she confronted him, he might leave—and she wasn’t sure she could survive that.

---

The pattern continued.

Each night, Y/N sat in the same spot on the bed, waiting. She left the bedside lamp on, its faint glow her only company as the hours ticked by. Sometimes she wondered if she should turn it off and pretend to sleep. But her body wouldn’t let her. It craved the sound of the door unlocking, the proof that In-Ho would come home—even if his heart didn’t belong to her anymore.

It was nearly 3 a.m. when she heard the familiar jingle of keys. Her breath hitched as the lock turned, and the door creaked open. She stayed still, her back to the doorway, feigning sleep. She listened as he shuffled inside, his footsteps hesitant and soft, as though he didn’t want to disturb her.

The faint scent of perfume wafted into the room, mixing with the cold night air. Her stomach twisted at the smell. It was sweet, floral—so unlike her own.

In-Ho sighed heavily as he sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and she felt the warmth of his presence even as her heart ached. She wanted to turn to him, to grab his hand and ask him why. But the words never came.

Instead, she lay there, tears slipping silently down her cheeks as the lyrics echoed in her mind:

“The other woman will always cry herself to sleep…”

---

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N became a ghost in her own life.

She stopped going out, stopped calling her friends. She moved through her days like a shadow, her energy drained by the constant weight on her chest. The apartment, once filled with laughter and warmth, now felt like a cage.

She busied herself with small tasks, trying to keep her mind occupied. Cleaning became her solace, her escape. She scrubbed the counters until her hands ached, vacuumed the carpets until the hum of the machine drowned out her thoughts. But no matter how hard she worked, the sense of emptiness never left.

One evening, as she was folding laundry, she found a lipstick-stained napkin in one of In-Ho’s jacket pockets. The stain was faint, but it was enough. Her hands trembled as she stared at it, the reality of his betrayal staring back at her in stark clarity.

She wanted to throw it away, to tear it to shreds. But instead, she folded it neatly and placed it back in his pocket. She didn’t know why. Perhaps it was easier to pretend she hadn’t seen it than to face the confrontation she was too afraid to have.

---

The snow fell softly outside the window, blanketing the world in a quiet, peaceful white. Y/N sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she watched the flakes drift down.

The silence in the apartment was deafening. In-Ho had left hours ago, muttering something about meeting an old friend. She didn’t ask for details. She knew better by now.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and for a moment, she considered ignoring it. But when she saw her best friend’s name on the screen, she hesitated.

“Hey,” her friend said when Y/N picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N replied automatically.

“No, you’re not.” There was a pause, the silence heavy with concern. “Y/N, talk to me. Please.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. The words were right there, begging to be spoken. But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

“I can’t,” she whispered finally. “I’m sorry.”

Her friend sighed, the disappointment clear in her voice. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

The call ended, leaving Y/N feeling more alone than ever.

---

One night, as In-Ho slept beside her, Y/N lay awake, staring at the ceiling. She could hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth of his body next to hers.

She wanted to shake him awake, to demand answers. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her. But fear held her back.

Instead, she closed her eyes and let the tears fall silently, the ache in her chest growing heavier with each passing moment.

She thought of the other woman, wondering if she ever felt this way—if she ever cried herself to sleep the way Y/N did.

“The other woman will always cry herself to sleep…”

The lyrics played over and over in her mind, a cruel reminder of her own heartbreak.

---

The weeks blurred together, each one more unbearable than the last. Y/N found herself sinking deeper into despair, her once-vivid world now a dull gray.

She stopped trying to hold onto the pieces of her old life. The framed photos of her and In-Ho that once adorned the walls were now tucked away in a drawer. The books she used to love sat untouched on the shelves. Even her favorite mug, the one In-Ho had bought her when they first moved in together, stayed hidden in the back of the cupboard.

It was easier this way.

Easier to pretend that the life she had once dreamed of no longer existed.

---

One night, as the snow fell outside, Y/N sat by the window, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. She watched the flakes drift down, her mind blank.

In-Ho was out again, and she hadn’t bothered to ask where he was going. She didn’t need to.

Her phone buzzed on the table, but she didn’t pick it up. She knew it wasn’t him.

The hours ticked by, the apartment growing colder as the night deepened.

When the door finally opened, Y/N didn’t turn to look. She stayed by the window, her eyes fixed on the snow.

“Y/N,” In-Ho said softly, his voice hesitant.

She didn’t respond.

He stood there for a moment before walking past her and into the bedroom, the faint scent of perfume lingering in his wake.

Y/N closed her eyes, the ache in her chest threatening to consume her.

“The other woman will always cry herself to sleep…”

The tears came silently, soaking into the blanket draped over her shoulders. She didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Because she knew nothing would change.

And so, she stayed.

Not because she forgave him, or because she believed things would get better.

But because she was too afraid to leave.

And in the quiet of the night, as the snow continued to fall, Y/N cried herself to sleep once again.

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @warlabels @sandor4ochk @totowolfffcheco @icomehereforthefics @m0rtifiedg0th @crystalizia @endlessfl4mes @floweradroble1123

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘬𝘬, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮 :) (𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘵𝘸)

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Urge [Loki x Fem. Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot] Loki's lack of magical contraception yields unexpected results. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Breeding kink. Smut. Language. Dirty talk. (w/ 1.8k)

"I can smell you." You stopped rinsing dishes, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning off the tap. He’s home early, you thought with mild interest. “What?! Two seconds...” you called. The sound of Loki dropping his keys into the dish by the door rattled. Metal on porcelain. You turned towards the noise, jumping as your husband’s broad shoulders suddenly filled the open kitchen doorway. “I said... I can smell you.” he repeated darkly, leaning against the frame.

Loki’s pupils were dilated, only a sliver of electric blue visible at the furthest rims. You ran your hands up the sharp angle of his jawline, trying to coax a smile. “Well I haven’t showered since last night but I didn’t think it was that -oh!” Loki stooped, hoisting your ass-cheeks with his huge palms. Your legs instinctively cinched around his hips, clinging on. It was a long drop to the floor. “I mean what’s between your thighs, wife.” he hummed menacingly. “You’re ripe.” Heat flushed your cheeks, a thrill thundering to the lowest centre of your sex. It was happening. “Are you sure you’re ready for the weight of my full load?” he snarled against the shell of your ear, the meaning in his words abundantly clear. You shivered. Loki had lifted the enchantment impeding his ability to impregnate you, and it had...side effects. “It will be four times what I usually spend inside that tight little slit of yours. I hope you can take it.” he murmured under his breath as he paced in long strides to the bedroom. He lowered you to the bed. You scrambled back on the mattress, running your eyes hungrily up his triangular torso. “And I hope you can keep it.” he spat, roughly yanking the knot in his tie. Loki had warned you that the tidal wave of god-level hormones would make him a little strange. A little less...sentimental. But even he wasn’t aware just how animalistic he would become in his mission to give you what you desired. What you both desired. He stripped the black suit jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning the dark shirt slowly as he tilted his head. His gaze stalked over your body, breathless and flushed. He was hard already, his thick cock snaking down his thigh against the tight cotton. “How am I to make you fat with my offspring if you do not remove your clothes?” There was a venom in his voice that made you clench. “Oh, right- sorry.” you mumbled, tugging off your stained t-shirt. You lifted your hips, fumbling the waistband down. “Too long.” he scoffed impatiently, before leaning and grabbing the lowered nylon crotch. In one swift movement, the leggings ripped at the seams, half of the pair landing on the bed-knob. Your husband's stare smouldered with barbarism, his deep love hibernating as primal urges came to the fore. Loki ripped the belt from his hips, the coil of leather falling discarded with a loud crack to the floor.

You shuffled backwards on the martial bed as he unzipped his trousers, the perfect cock that had made love to you thousands of times looking different somehow. Harder? Bigger? you thought frantically, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his naked body descended. Loki’s hair fell wild around his collarbone, eyes narrowing as he tilted his chin to his chest. That smouldering gaze never left your own. “Don’t be afraid, darling." Loki nudged your knees apart gruffly. “You are worthy of breeding with a god, you should be grateful.” He wrapped his long fingers around your delicate wrists. “And I intend to thoroughly breed you tonight, pup. You can be sure of that.” You could feel the swollen tip of his manhood sliding against your entrance, the sticky mess of ovulation grasping against pre-cum gathered at the head. “Oh-my-g-god…” you gasped, unable to form proper words. You had never been more turned on in your life.

“That’s it. Praise me, little one.” Loki purred, before a long inhale made his eyes flutter closed in lust-drunk anticipation. “Such a well-bred cunt you have...” he hummed appreciatively, before licking a trail from your collarbone to your mouth. “Perfect for a god’s seed...” he rasped, releasing one wrist to palm the nearest breast upward. “... perfect for soaking in what I have to give.” he continued lazily. Loki nuzzled against your ear as his grip returned to the free wrist strewn above your head. “My prize breeding bitch.” You arched your back, feeling your pussy gape against the throbbing cock nestled tauntingly between your folds. Ready to burst. He released a ragged moan against your ear, pulsing between your open thighs. “I can’t keep myself out much longer, I can’t resist you like this – you have one final chance to stop before I fill you.” he panted quietly, a semblance of familiarity cracking through feral domination. You shook your head, murmurs of don’t stop passing your lips as a cruel smirk stretched his own. He snarled, mouth falling open as his wide tip squeezed past the tight opening. Loki swallowed, the veins in his neck straining. “Prepare for everyone in nine realms to know you have been fucked into this pathetic state.” he growled ceremonially. He bottomed out with a staggered groan as his grip on your wrists tightened. “And fucked by whom.” You squirmed beneath him, rocking your hips into the curves of his enormous muscular thighs. Waves of bliss soared as he grunted with every slow thrust, devastatingly measured. “Tell me I’m your slut, Loki-” you mewled, whining as he pressed the backs of your thighs mercilessly towards your ears. Loki's eyes fell to the sight of his glistening cock sinking into your swollen pussy, juices already leaking around the mess of twin flesh. He grit his teeth, curls swinging around his jaw as he watched himself disappear repeatedly into your ripe heat. “Remember who it is you have sheathed in your cunt, little one.” he grunted, balls slapping. “I only fuck my slut, I don’t breed her.” You whimpered, lost in a haze of unadulterated eroticism. It was filth. His voice. His hands. His cock. His words. “You’re so fucking t-tight.” he gasped, releasing a rasping moan that shook the Asgardian trinkets on the side-table. “I’m going to pound you so full of my...uhhh- sacred c-cum that you’ll be dripping from that pretty m-mouth.”

Your husband's voice vibrated around the apartment, the timbre so low you were sure it would sink through the floorboards. He was unhinged, the grip around your calves making halos of lightened skin appear beneath the dent of his fingertips. “Don’t-don’t stop...Loki” you gasped, frozen in place by his weight. The god snarled, his upper lip disappearing as his eyes flashed. “I said I would breed you, and I intend to.” he spat, suddenly pulling your wrists and flipping you to all fours. His slippery cock popped from your hole with a squelch as your palms hit the mattress. In a flash, long fingers grasped the nooks of your hips, sinking himself possessively back inside. The two of your groaned in unison as your ass hit the flat of his stomach.

“The way that ripe pussy is desperate to milk me, I won’t last…” he fawned, before placing a tight slap against your ass. “But then, pleasure is not the order of business. Not your pleasure, anyway..” The god muttered darkly under his breath, rhythmically pulling you tight against the base of his shaft before pushing you forwards. The fingers against your flesh would leave bruises. Animalistic grunts clouded the air like smoke as he railed into you like the beat of a drum. You could feel the veins in his cock swell. They pulsed, his body gearing to give you what you craved. Loki’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, erratic breaths scorching the air as he lost himself in the mission. Lost himself in the urge. Whines of his name leaked from your throat, your cheek lowering to the mattress- ass in the air like a bitch in heat. Loki’s hips juddered, the slap of his tight balls against your clit making you want to scream. And then you screamed. Loki chuckled, a choked laugh between stuttering, messy pumps. “That’s it. That’s.it - my breeding mare, taking the mount of your s-stallion as he fucks you full- f-f-fuck-” You and he moaned in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folded against your back. You could feel the condensation of primal need on your neck from his breath, his cock tugging inside your needy pussy with shallow thrusts as he came undone. He needed this. He needed it just as much as you did. “Fill me p-prince- yes, give it...fucking give it to me-” you thundered. Your hips thrashed as you shoved you ass back to keep his cock steady against your wet centre. “All of it?” Loki choked, planting another smack on your ass with a broken moan. “Every fucking d-drop…” you managed through a strangled cry. The god roared behind you. You could feel thick cream spurt against clenching walls, hot seed sloshing and rising inside the deepest part of you. Loki's firm chest curled against your spine, hair sticking to the sweat gathered on your back. His hips juddered as he emptied himself inside your messy, fertile heat. Every drop. You could sense the clench of his perfect ass as he pumped several more times, milking himself in the slop of his own seed. Dwindling ragged grunts peppered the air, the tender slide of his palms over the curve of your ass telling you that his work was done.

“Stay still.” he murmured, carefully drawing himself from between your legs. Wet slurps filled the air, the light touch of his fingers grazing against your dripping slit. Inspecting. “Turn over-” he said gently, as if to a patient; “-slowly.” he added, before guiding you on your back. There was a broad smile on his face. “Legs up.” he quipped, still kneeling. You rolled your eyes playfully, manoeuvring your crossed ankles to rest on the curve of his neck. “I love you.” he said tentatively, placing a deep kiss on the calf to his side. A blissed-out smile fluttered on your lips. “I love you too.” you replied, reaching for his hand. Loki squeezed. “Based on that performance, we should probably make the most of the next few days.” you sighed, resting back against the pillow. Loki scoffed. “Have you so little faith in my ability to-” He trailed off, seeing the twitch of your eyebrow. “Oh.” he smouldered, pushing his hair back with a conspiratorial smile. “Yes. Indeed, darling. Very wise.” He placed another kiss on your ankle, the tip of his nose inhaling seductively down your calf as his words made you shiver with anticipation. “Better safe than sorry.” he whispered darkly against your skin.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[avis-writeshq]

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, roommate au warnings: reader is a pretty girl (YOU ARE A PRETTY GIRL !!!!!!) and she wears dresses !! feelings of inadequacy (aka, it’s so hard to find good guys now ☹️☹️☹️) she’s also taking her master’s degree at Georgetown  a/n: i love roommate reader so much guys !!! give me a million requests for them; i will write it ‼️🫶 wc: 936 part 1 | you are on part 2! | part 3

“Date?” Spencer asks despite his knowing, watching as you wrap a cardigan over your shoulders and fix the bracelet on your wrist.

He’s not in denial about how pretty you are. He remembers it, even back when the two of you were younger. Everyone loved you– following you around the playground and doing whatever you ask of them. You’re the sun, he accepted on a hot summer’s day, drowsy from the heatwave while you ate a bright orange popsicle beside him. You’re the sun and I’m one of the planets you allow to be near you. 

He’s not entirely surprised either when he sees you again, as beautiful as he remembered, surrounded by people of all genders with starstruck gazes, all enchanted by your brilliant smile and embellished words. He’s not surprised either when you receive so many propositions of romance. A little jealous, maybe, because sometimes he wishes that you would share an ounce of your sparkle with him. 

“Yeah,” you respond with a soft smile, fixing your shoes. “Going out for dinner. I’ll be home a little late, so don’t wait up, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, fiddling with the ends of his hair. “You’ll call me, right? If you need anything.”

Your smile widens and you nod. “Of course I will. Thanks, Walter, you’re the best.”

His cheeks glow warm at his middle name and he clears her throat. “Good night.”

“Good night!”

Then you’re gone. He doesn’t hear the way you return back to the apartment hours later but earlier than anticipated, or the way you dump your bags at the doorway instead of putting them away in your room as you usually do. He doesn’t notice the way the shower runs longer than usual, or the opening and shutting of the freezer door or the clanging of metal spoons. He wishes he did.

*** 

“I give up.” You grip the phone against your ear tighter, your gaze dark with frustration. “Hah, you’re on to talk! You’re getting married in November! Yeah, well, it doesn’t help. I hear enough of that from everyone. Bye.”

Spencer flinches at the harshness of your tone. He’s even more concerned at your initial words. You’re giving up on something? You’ve never given up on anything. That’s one of your biggest charms; you know exactly what you want and you’ll do anything to get it. Giving up is simply not in your vocabulary. Except for now, he supposes. 

“I am so– so  sick of this,” You huff, slumping onto the couch beside him, hugging a Tuxedo Sam plush toy that he bought you for your birthday a few years ago. “This is so stupid.”

“What’s stupid?” Spencer asks cautiously, placing his book down and turning to you.

“Paget is getting married in November,” you say, half happy but half sullen. 

He nods, perplexed. He knows all about the wedding, especially since you’ve come home after shopping for dresses and decided to get his opinions on all of them. “You’ve been looking forward to it since the beginning of the year.”

“I know,” you insist, frowning. “And I am excited! But lately she’s been pressing me to bring someone as a plus one and when I said that I’d invite one of my friends in my class, she insisted that this is a brilliant time to invite a boyfriend. And she keeps sending me off on blind dates lately and I’m just ugh!”

Spencer pats your shoulder in an effort to be sympathetic. “They haven’t been going well?”

“They suck,” You grumble. “Rude, stupid, inconsiderate– the list goes on and I am sick and tired of being treated like an idiot on every date I go on.”

“I see.”

“I know what I want,” you continue, squeezing the plush toy in your lap. “I see it all the time. With my friends and the people I care about. I know how I want to be loved; I know how I deserve to be loved. I just don’t understand why it’s so difficult to find someone who would love me the way I deserve to be. And I see all these people falling in love and getting married and having these wonderful relationships, I can’t help but wonder if I did something to be so unlikeable.”

“You’re not unlikeable,” Spencer says immediately, frowning. How can you say something like that? “You’re the most likable person I know. There’s just a lot that you’re not willing to put up with, things that a lot of men do that you don’t want to put up with, and they can’t understand that.”

He relishes the way you smile, smaller than your usual ones, before leaning your head onto his shoulder. His heart leaps into his throat at the contact, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume. He doesn’t understand how someone could ever dislike you– you and your brilliant smiles and your sweet disposition. 

“There’s an old Buddhist saying,” he begins slowly, watching as you take to drawing circles against the back of his palm, “that the act of bringing you and your soulmate together was 500 years in the making. So you’ll find someone. Or maybe you’ve already met them.”

“You’re lovely,” you murmur, drawing a heart then a series of squiggles onto his hand. 

His cheeks glow hot. “I could say the same for you.”

He thinks of the letters he’s written for you but never sent, all stored neatly in a box. There’s one envelope that sticks out from the rest– your favourite colour with a heart wax seal. He decides against giving it to you for the thousandth time.

reblogs are always appreciated !!

part 1 | you are on part 2! | part 3

[fleetingtemper]

when you get lost

possessive unhealthy behaviors! heavily implied yandere

SUNDAY

you were only supposed to be gone for a few hours, doing shopping around the dreamscape. of course, sunday would be damned if he didn’t assign designated oak family agents to closely accompany you all day. you are, after all, mr. sunday’s precious darling.

but he could only blame the incompetence of these agents for losing you. he will have to punish their families quite severely, he thinks to himself. this could only be an act of treason, sunday reasons.

his wings twitch in annoyance.

“i suppose any good pet returns to their master after they’ve realized what an unforgiving world we live in,” he muses

and would he be the head of the oak family if he wasn’t always correct?

there you were, shivering in his doorway, dripping like a wet puppy.

poor (y/n), he thinks. how likely of you to be entranced by street performers and wander off like a child. stars fill your eyes, struggling to take in all the gleaming lights. you are enchanted by these sights for quite some time, until you realize you are lost.

suddenly, the world wasn’t quite as beautiful.

you shakingly walk over to sunday, looking up at him through tear soaked lashes. he tsks before brushing your hair out of your face.

“my dear, how ever did you get lost?” his gloved hand caresses your hair. “i’m afraid i’ve been so careless with you,” how could he let you, a poor, stupid thing, leave his sights again?

“you worry me too much, my dear”

“i’m sorry—“

he pressed a finger to your lips

“as the head of the oak family, i must protect all of my citizens. including you.”

“you best not leave the estate at all.”

JINGYUAN

when jingyuan is informed of you never returning from your outing, he abandons the stacks of paper work at hand. he truly wonders if you just enjoy the punishment at this point.

you had fallen asleep at the base of a tree after a long day of entertaining friends and family. you just needed a break.

deep into your slumber, you felt a raindrop hit your face. groggily, you open your eyes to finally see rain puttering down upon your head. you curse silently before a loud clap of thunder surprises you. however, the thunder was quickly drowned out by the sound of hundreds of armor clanking towards you.

you rub your eyes, only to finally see yourself suddenly surrounded by cloud knights. your stomach drops. how long had you been asleep, you wonder anxiously.

oh no, jingyuan will be—

speak of the devil.

the cloud knights part to make way for the general himself.

the thunder crashing and downpour don’t feel as threatening now that he had shown up. and of course, with the lion.

he silently picks you up bridal style, and you do not dare fight it. you only just recovered your legs recently, after all.

“may i suggest that you take a nap in my sights next time?” ah, but he didn’t really mean that there would ever be a next time.

“yes, general.” you mumble

he gently, but firmly, takes your chin. “you need not maintain formalities, my love,”

“however, as your general, i do not wish to have to imprison you for high treason.”

your eyes widened. high treason?

he lowers his head until his lips are against your ears. “you are my spouse and it is your duty to be as such”

“you cannot absolve yourself of this duty for as long as the mara-struck live.”

VENTI

venti knew you were lost.

there was nowhere in mondstadt where you could ever wander off to where he wouldn’t know your every move. he admired your furrowed brow and how you chewed anxiously on your bottom lip. you were lost, indeed.

oh dear, it seemed as if you were about to walk through an area notoriously frequented by hilichurls and slimes. he thinks to himself that you’ll just have to learn your lesson.

he watches as the hilichurls take notice of you and alert the others.

he only watches as he watches one notch an arrow and lets it soar, narrowly missing, yet scraping your leg.

you yelp out in pain and he almost gets the urge to help you.

but maybe in a little while.

the anemo archon is amused by how you fumble to grasp your sword imbued with your (element) vision. he makes a face, revolted by the reminder of how one of his fellow seven had blessed you, his darling, with their power before he did.

finally grasping your sword, you swing at the hilichurls charging at you, knocking down a few. the pain in your leg makes it hard to fight but archons, you couldn’t afford to lose.

you stifle back groans as clubs bash against your unarmored back. you feel your head spinning from hours of dehydration and hunger.you swung violently at the monsters, not realizing the commotion your fight was causing.

how did that eye of the storm get there?

when you thought you had finished off the monsters, you felt a strong gust of wind knock you down. dirt and debris swirl around you, filling your lungs. you cough violently, eyes filled with fear at the storm in front of you. no way, you internally scream.

you reach for your sword but it is blown out of your weak grip several feet away. fuck, you had no option other than to crawl away.

just as you thought you were finished, an anemo imbued arrow soars past your head and right into the storm, dissipating it. you whip your head around to see venti, the drunkard bard you had befriended.

“are you alright, (y/n)?” he gazes at you worriedly. tears fill your eyes as you throw your arms around the bard, knocking him back onto the grass.

“t-thank you venti,” you hiccup, burying your head into his shoulder.

he rubs your bruised shoulder soothingly. blood stains his hands and he resists the temptation to taste you. how naive, he thinks.

to think you were so badly spooked by a little wind,

he couldn’t wait to see your reaction to dvalin.

[oaksgrove]

Charmed by Two

pairing: John Price x singlemom!Reader

synopsis: When John Price steps into your life, he’s not just falling for you—he’s falling for your spirited 4-year-old daughter, too. Without a father figure in sight, Price finds himself enchanted by the little girl’s charm and innocence. As he slowly earns her trust with bedtime stories, backyard adventures, and a well-placed British wit, he also finds himself falling deeper for you. But his determination to impress you both comes with a question: can he truly be the man you both deserve?

word count: 1574

warnings: Fluff, mild angst (discussions of past relationships), Price’s fatherly charm, emotional moments, and a lot of found-family vibes.

John Price had been in plenty of tight spots before—ambushes, firefights, missions that left him questioning if he’d make it home. He’d spent most of his adult life on the battlefield, navigating dangerous situations and making life-or-death decisions. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the delicate operation of holding a tiny pink teacup in his calloused hands,  pinky out, under the watchful eye of a four-year-old who was beaming up at him like he’d just hung the moon.  

"Mr. Price," she said with all the seriousness her little voice could muster, "you’re not holding it right. Your pinky has to stick out like this!" She demonstrated, her tiny pinky jutting out at an angle as she lifted her cup of imaginary tea.  

John chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling through his chest, and she giggled in response. "Right, right," he said, mimicking her movements, awkwardly extending his pinky. "Like a proper gentleman, yeah?"  

"Yes!" she exclaimed, her curls bouncing as she nodded.  

"Careful," your daughter warned, her tiny brows furrowing in a perfect imitation of your serious face. "You can’t spill it. This is very important tea."

"Got it, ma’am," he replied, his gravelly voice warm with humor. His pinky stuck out awkwardly as he mimicked her movements, holding the teacup steady. "Wouldn’t want to ruin the most important tea of the year."

She giggled, her curls bouncing as she leaned forward to pour another round of imaginary tea from her plastic teapot. "It’s the best tea in the world," she declared.

Price didn’t miss a beat, bringing the empty cup to his lips and sipping with exaggerated gusto. "Ah, perfect brew. You’re a natural, love. Could open your own tea shop."

Her eyes lit up, and she beamed at him like he’d just handed her the moon. "Really? You’d come to my tea shop?"

"Every day," he said solemnly. "I’d be your best customer."

From the doorway, you watched the scene unfold, your heart swelling at the sight. You hadn’t expected John to bond so easily with your daughter. When you’d first introduced them, you’d been nervous—terrified, even. She was your world, and letting someone into her life wasn’t something you did lightly. But John had stepped into the role with a natural ease that left you in awe.  

It wasn’t just the little things, like playing tea parties or reading her bedtime stories. It was the way he listened to her, the way he knelt to her level when she spoke, the way he made her feel important. He had a quiet patience with her that made your chest ache, especially knowing how her father had never shown her the same.  

"More tea, sir?" your daughter asked, holding out the teapot.  

"Don’t mind if I do," he replied, holding out his cup with a grin.  

She poured the imaginary tea with the utmost concentration, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. When she finished, she beamed up at him. "There! Now you have to drink it all, or it’s bad manners."  

"Bad manners, eh?" He raised an eyebrow, feigning seriousness. "Well, can’t have that."  

He brought the empty cup to his lips, making an exaggerated sipping sound, then smacked his lips. "Ah, that’s the best tea I’ve ever had."  

She erupted into giggles, her laughter filling the room.  

You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned against the doorframe. When he glanced up and caught your eye, his expression softened. He gave you a small, almost shy smile, as if to say, I’m trying my best.  

And he was.  

-

Later that evening, after your daughter had been tucked into bed and the house had fallen quiet, You found John in the kitchen, rinsing out the teacups she’d insisted on washing after the party. He looked up as you entered, a dish towel slung over one shoulder.

"Tea party wear you out?" you teased.  

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "She’s got more energy than I do, that’s for sure."  

"She adores you, you know," you said softly, your gaze steady on him.  

His eyes flicked to yours, something tender and vulnerable in his expression. "Yeah?"  

You nodded. "She talks about you all the time. Says you’re her hero."  

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but there was a weight behind his smile. "She’s a good kid. Smart, too. You’ve done a hell of a job with her."  

"Thank you," you murmured, your chest tightening. "But you’re the one she looks at like that now. Like you’re her whole world."  

His eyes distant for a moment before he turned to you. "I’ve never had anything like this before," he admitted. "Never thought I’d… fit into something like this. But I want to. For her. For you."  

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you reached out to his arm. "You do fit, John. Better than I ever imagined."  

He squeezed your hand, his voice low and steady. "I know I can’t replace… I know I’m not her dad. But I’ll do right by her, for as long as you’ll let me."  

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your heart full. "I wouldn’t want it any other way."  

You smiled despite yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something deeper.

This wasn’t the first time he’d spent an afternoon entertaining your daughter, but it was the first time you let yourself really think about what it meant. He wasn’t just playing along; he was present in a way you hadn’t expected. In a way that scared you.

This wasn’t something you’d planned for. When you’d first met John, you’d been cautious. He was older, gruff, and came with the kind of baggage you knew could complicate things. And you had your daughter to think about—her safety, her happiness. Letting someone into her life wasn’t just a decision for you; it was a decision for both of you.

And yet, here he was looking at your daughter like she was the most important person in the world. It was endearing, yes, but it also scared you. What if this didn’t last? What if he decided this wasn’t the life he wanted?

You closed your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing. The logical part of you knew John cared, but the quieter, more insecure part of you couldn’t help but question if this was all temporary. Was he here for you? For her? Or just because it was easy right now?

"Love, you alright?"

His voice startled you, and you quickly wiped your hands on your jeans, pretending you hadn’t been lost in your thoughts. He was looking directly at you, the tiara still perched on his head, though slightly askew. His eyes were soft, a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Yeah," you said quickly, offering him a small smile. "Just… thinking."

"You’ve got that look," he murmured.

"What look?"

"The one you get when you’re overthinking something," he said, his lips quirking up into a small smile. "Want to tell me about it?"

You hesitated, biting your lip as you glanced past him toward the living room, where your daughter was now busy rearranging her tea set. "She really likes you," you said quietly.

John didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head, studying you carefully. "And you’re worried about that?" 

You let out a shaky breath. "She’s already been let down once. I don’t want her to get attached if…" Your voice trailed off, and you shook your head, looking away.

"If I leave?" he finished gently.

You nodded, feeling a lump rise in your throat. "It’s not just about her, though," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s about me, too."

His expression softened, and he reached out to take your hands in his. "Look at me, love."

You did, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his eyes. "She’s brilliant, smart as a whip, full of life… she reminds me of you."  

"I know I can’t erase what she’s been through," he said quietly. "And I know I can’t promise to be perfect. But I’m here because I want to be. For her. For you. I’m not going anywhere." he continued, his voice low and steady.

You blinked up at him, searching his face for any hint of doubt, but there was none. Tears stung your eyes, and you bit your lip, trying to keep them at bay. "You mean that?"

"With everything I’ve got," he said, his voice steady and sure. "I know you’ve been hurt before, and I know you’re scared, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mean it. I care about her, and I care about you. Both of you."

Tears welled in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, embarrassed. "I just… I don’t want to get this wrong."

"You’re not getting it wrong," he murmured, stepping closer until his forehead was nearly touching yours. "We’re figuring it out together. Yeah?"

You nodded, exhaling shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. He reached up to brush it away with his thumb, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Besides," he added with a small grin, "I think your little one’s already decided I’m sticking around. She said I’m her best customer, remember?"

You laughed, the tension in your chest easing. "She really has taken to you."

"And I’ve taken to her," he said simply. "To both of you."

taglist:

@honestlymassivetrash