#i really don’t know how to feel about frill

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[reidrum]

undone lace | s.r.

A/N: user reidrum back with another softdom and munch!spencer fic but with insecure reader this time please act surprised

summary: in which you buy lingerie to impress spencer

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, afab!reader, reader wears lingerie, pet names, praise kink, slight breeding kink if you squint hard, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, insecure!reader, munch!spencer, softdom!spencer

wc: 2.3k

masterlist

You’re standing in the middle of the bedroom fiddling with the garter straps hanging on your upper thighs when you hear the lock click followed by the front door opening.

Fuck.

You have to admit, it really did seem like a good idea when you were at the store.

The clerk in the lingerie store saw you staring for just a second too long before pouncing on you, feeding you off anecdotes that embarrassingly enough sent you home with a tiny pink bag not even ten minutes later.

But now that’s left you standing in the middle of your bedroom, dressed up in a way you know Spencer hasn’t been privy to seeing you in yet. And the anxiety of seeing his reaction is quite literally eating you alive.

Spencer calls out for you letting you know he’s home early, something about finishing his reports early. You’re not entirely sure, all you can focus on is your eyes widening as you take a paralytic stance, unmoving even when you hear his footsteps inch closer to the door.

“Hey, I knew you were home, probably didn’t hear me come in,” he says opening the door, “Did you want to get Thai food for—“

The rest of the words don’t make it out. And that’s when Spencer finally looks up at you, and he really gets a good look at you.

His eyes slowly rake down your figure and you can’t help but feel a bit like a spectacle, awaiting the rousing approval and applause from the audience with bated breath. He doesn’t speak for another minute, and it makes you squirm in your skin even more.

“This is stupid,” you mutter, “I’m gonna go change—“

Spencer doesn’t even let you move an inch before jumping into action, reaching out to grab your hand and pull you into his chest. “Don’t change.” he whispers hoarsely, eyes wandering and taking in all of you.

The self doubt within you only rises as you meekly say, “D—Do you like it?”

His eyes snap to yours finally, “Do I like it?” his hands take purchase on your hips, thumbs hooking onto the garter strap connecting the fabric on your midriff to your panties and pulling you closer, “Sweetheart…did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I was nervous about this all day, wasn’t sure if it was too much.”

“You could never be too much. “ He blinks at you while his voice comes out strained, “Nervous? W—Why would you be nervous?” his hands smooth over your skin in all the places that needed placating, a soothing reminder that you could calm down, that you were safe.

You shrug slightly, “Didn’t know if I liked myself in it…and then I didn’t know if…you would like me in it.” you deflate a little more, “It’s stupid I know, I’m sorry I’m just gonna go chan—“

Spencer shakes his head mindlessly, his hands gripping your hips harder on instinct, “Oh, baby,” his voice strained and coming out as a mumble, “I am not doing a good job showing you how beautiful you are,” his hands slowly turn you around and pull you back into him so your back is flush with his chest, leaning down to your ear to whisper, “We should fix that, shouldn’t we?”

A shiver runs down your spine as you straighten your back against him, his hands inching dangerously lower and lower. “Can I do that? Let me make it up to you?”

The words are knocked out of you and all you can manage is a small nod, “You don’t have to.”

“No, actually I think I need to,” his hands ghost the lace frill edges of your panties, “Went through all this trouble…for me?” The length of his finger presses firmly to your entrance, you let out a soft gasp when he gently rubs, “Think you deserve a reward, sweet girl.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his hands move to cup your lace covered breasts, thumbs intentionally rubbing over your nipples and letting them harden under his touch. Spencer guides you to the edge of the bed as the warmth of his breath ghosts the crook of your neck, gently pressing kisses that trail up to your ear. You let him sit you down and watch with wide eyes as he sinks to his knees before you.

His hands part your legs open, bending his head down to press chaste kisses up your inner thigh stopping at the apex before repeating his motions to the other side.

“You okay?” he glances up at you, “I can stop if you want.”

“‘No! No, I’m okay I just…”

He presses another kiss just shy of where you need him, “Just what, baby?”

A soft whimper escapes you, “…Didn’t think this would work”

Spencer pauses and looks at you confused, letting his mouth wander back up to your face, “You thought,” Kiss. “Seeing my insanely hot and sexy and intelligent girlfriend,” Kiss. “All dressed up in lingerie,” Kiss. “Just for me,” Kiss. Kiss. “Wouldn’t work?”

You knew it would work. Of course, it worked. You knew that, he knew that. It’s why you planned to do this in the first place, because you wanted to do something nice for him. And if doing something nice for Spencer came at the cost of your confidence, you would gladly make the fruitless trade.

It made you feel silly, to be frank. Spencer never, ever, gave you a reason to feel insecure about yourself. In fact he made every humane effort possible to always remind you of how highly he thought of you. Yet here you were, with the audacity to self efface in front of the human embodiment of unconditional love.

“Angel…” he murmurs into your neck, bringing you back to the moment, “Where’d you go?”

It was just easier to let Spencer believe the fallacy of your plan than admit that despite his earnest efforts you, unfortunately, were incapable of receiving his love and affection.

You clear your throat to remove any tremors before you speak, “ ‘m okay, promise.”

Spencer was unconvinced, “You’re in your head again…” his thumbs kneed the flesh of your thighs as he kisses down your shoulder, “I’m really slacking, huh baby?”

“Spence—“

He shushes you gently, “It’s okay, baby. I know. I’m gonna make up for it.” he rises to his full height, standing in between your legs before working on the buttons of his shirt. His thumb and pointer pinch your chin and angle your face upwards, “Will you go sit pretty and lay down on the bed for me?”

You nod wordlessly and scoot backwards until you’re able to lie down and rest your head on the satin pillowcase. The mattress dips near your feet and you watch Spencer crawl back over you in only his boxers, his eyes raking over your outstretched body beneath him.

“God, you are perfect.” he murmurs, holding the words close like a sacred prayer. He gingerly pushes the hair from your face to behind your ear and lowers himself to press a kiss to your lips. You watch his mouth kiss and trace the outline of your lace bralette, following the path of dips and curves before he resumes his journey further down.

His finger toys with the edge of your panties again, finally hooking below the fabric and pushing it to the side exposing you to the brisk air. Spencer swore he could never get sick of the sight of you glistening, knowing he was the one to get you like that. He prods at your entrance, collecting the arousal to spread all over you, grinning when he hears a breathless moan.

“Feels good?” he whispers, you nod quickly watching him continue, “Good, pretty girls deserve to feel good.”

You preen under the praise as his finger pushes past your entrance, setting an agonizingly slow pace. The drag of his finger is so deliberate you can feel the notch of his knuckle as it leaves you, and it drives you insane.

“Nmph—Spence…please,” you plead. What you’re pleading for, you’re not even sure. But Spencer clearly knew as he adds one more finger, the stretch opening you up in a way that ascends you that much closer to the heavens.

You lift your head slightly to watch Spencer and find that he’s not even looking at you. He’s entirely more enticed by watching his fingers enter and leave you so captivatingly, your slick coating and entrapping him willfully. He must feel your eyes on him because he finally looks up and meets your gaze. His fingers quicken their pace, watching your face contort with pleasure as he undoes you piece by piece with a delicacy he knows how to use on you only.

His lips kiss up your inner thigh again, this time reaching your center and attaching his lips. At this point you realize you’re a goner, left for nothing and everything as Spencer pushes through to bring you to your peak. The tandem effort of his mouth and fingers is hypnotizing, so much so that you’d call witchcraft with how easily he’s able to disarm you completely.

“You’re close, angel girl.” he mumbles as more of a statement than a question, since clearly he knew your body better than you. All you can do is pathetically moan as you’re left entirely to his mercy and ministrations. The peak builds in your stomach, coiling and building tension while barreling towards that sweet release before he removes his presence from between your legs wholly, leaving you a panting mess above him.

“Spencer!” you whine loudly, “Wh—why’d you stop?” you breath out desperately.

He sits up and back onto his legs while he maneuvers his boxers off, “I told you pretty girls deserve to feel good, right?”

“Yeah well, this pretty girl doesn’t feel very good right now.” you tut.

He softly chuckles, moving closer while giving himself a few pumps, “I know,” he hooks his fingers onto your thigh garter straps and pulls you closer to him so his center is only mere centimeters from yours, “But, you deserve to feel the best.”

“So this pretty girl,” he rubs the tip of himself on your clit through the lace of your panties, “gets to come on my cock.”

You barely have time to be shocked by his crude words before he’s hooking your panties to the side again and slowly pushing himself inside you. A languished cry leaves you as you’re feeling him deep inside, reaching places only he knew about.

You’re reduced to blabbering syllables and cries of his name at the expense of his unrelenting pace, meeting his eyes and gaping at his smugly satisfied grin. He plays with the lace bow situated in the valley of your breasts before moving his hands to lift your legs and placing them on his shoulder, deepening his angle within you.

“I’d stay here for hours, for days, if you let me, sweet girl. If you asked for it, I’d give you everything.”

Your eyes nearly roll back feeling yourself enter another dimension with the combination of his words and the way he’s absolutely fucking you dumb. Another soft whine bubbles out of your throat, “Fuck—Spe—Aahh—.”

He coos softly, “I know, honey. Gonna get you there, promise.” he continues his thrusts unceremoniously, adding a thumb to your clit to push just over the edge hurling towards your climax. It hits you like a bucket of cold water dumped on you, a shivering chill reverberating up and down your spine while simultaneously setting your nerve endings aflame.

It’s overwhelming, it’s everything, it’s him.

Spencer isn’t trailing too far behind you with only a few more thrusts before he’s spilling into you with a low groan. He buries his head into the crook of your neck as he lets the last of himself pour into you before gingerly slipping out and placing your panty back in its holding place. He collapses at your side, the only sound left in the air is your alternating heavy pants.

“Guess I can’t return this now.” you lightly chuckle after a few minutes.

“You were going to return it?” he rolls over to drape an arm over your torso, “Did I not prove my point?”

He did. Very well.

“Y—You did, I just…still remember how I didn’t feel great in it before you came home.” you blush sheepishly.

Spencer sighs and pulls your body to rest in the you shaped crevice in the side of his body, hand smoothing up and down your back while the other rests on your thigh he’s hooked over his hips. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

“I didn’t do anything, in fact—“

“No, sweet girl. I am proud of you, because I know how hard it must have been for you to go out of your comfort zone for me. You shouldn’t feel obligated to do things like that, you know I’ll always love you until the end of time,” he moves his hand to cup your cheek, “But, I feel so grateful that you want to venture out for someone like me. I just want you to know that every and any effort, no matter how big or small, is always deeply appreciated and I am lucky to be the recipient every time.”

Tears well up in your eyes. For as much as you felt vulnerable and bared your heart to Spencer, there he was with open arms and a basket to cradle it from danger. Even if you couldn’t feel safe in your own mind, you could trust that Spencer would find a way to keep you from harm, even if it was self made.

“Thank you.” you whisper softly.

He presses a long kiss to your forehead, “Loving you is my favorite thing to do in this world, no need to thank me.”

You smile into his chest, voice all giddy, “Really? I thought reading untranslated and original classics had me beat there.”

“It’s a close second, pretty girl.” he nuzzles you closer to him and sighs in content.

It isn’t that close at all, Spencer thinks.

[louloulemons-posts]

heyyy. i saw your taking logan fics. do you think you can write a fic of logan and reader but she’s very girly and bimbo like? thank you 🩷

Claws and Frills

wolverine x fem!reader

(x-men wolverine, he’s a big boy)

summary : At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, but now your the first person he finds when he returns to the mansion.

word count : 0.8k

warnings : not proofread, fluffy, petnames (reader calls logan kitty and the famous bub), readers a necromancer, mentions of violence, blood and killing, readers not really described - only her outfit , hanks a bit of a dick, very very sweet, no established relationship.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Cooing that Charles had adopted a pet ‘Kitty-cat’ when you first met one another.

It had taken him a few months to realise, you weren’t being condescending, you were truly that sweet and slightly ditzy. Saying that you had the gift of necromancy, controlling those who had passed, along with their powers if they were mutant.

Logan strolled outside of the mansion finding you, lay on your stomach reading a book, a soft lilac blanket beneath you.

A pink dress and short white cardigan hug your figure, as your pink converse lay discarded beside you, showing your white frilly socks.

“Hey Bub,” the man called out, walking over to you. With a grin you turned to him, “Kitty, come sit,” Scooting over to make room for his larger figure, the smile never left your lips.

With a soft groan he sat down next to you, laying back, hands behind his head. “How was your mission?” you asked, placing your book to the side to have your full focus on the man beside you.

With a shrug he spoke, “Went well, stopped the guys.”

“Any blood spilled?” You questioned, head cocked. “Less than last time.”

“And you?”

“Me?” Logan pulled his sunglasses down to rest on his nose, so he could meet your eyes with his own dark ones. “Did any of your blood get spilt?”

“Nothing I couldn’t heal from Bub.”

“Logan you promised-“

“Sometimes it can be helped,” he cut you off, “I did everything I could to be safe and come back to you in one piece, and look here I am.”

He motioned to his long body, dressed in a flannel, unsurprising, a pair of jeans a boots. “Well even if they killed you, you couldn’t be rid of me.”

He laughed, “You’re awful.” With a pout, you sat up on your knees, “What? I have to use my freaky-deaky powers at some point!”

“Freaky-deaky? Is that the technical term?” He smirked. With a groan you spoke, “Don’t, you sound like Hank.”

Logan’s face went serious, “What’s he said to you?” He was ready to shred that blue asshole to pieces for making you feel insecure.

“Nothing, he actually apologised. Charles told him he’d upset me. I mean I know I’m not the smartest sometimes,” Logan tried to cut you off, but you didn’t let him.

“But, I’m not stupid, we actually spent a lot of time talking about, neuroscience. Just because I’m not a total badass like Storm or Jean doesn’t mean I’m an awful hero, I just …” You sighed.

“What Bub?” Logan pushed himself up so you sat face to face. “I just don’t want to stop being myself, and my… gift already makes me feel like I have too.

“Maybe I was given the wrong one, would have been better if I could control plants or I don’t know, talk to animals.”

Logan smiled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, which you snatched away without a second thought. If it was anyone else, his claws would be out, but it was you.

“Your power doesn’t define you, you know that right? You’re you. You’re sweet and kind, and anyone or anything you’ve controlled with your powers has been as respectful as you can make it.”

“But I’ve killed.”

“And you’ve saved.”

“But-“

“Bub, you’re good, and Hank isn’t a people person, he just talks sometimes. Nobody is a special or as badass as you, I promise.”

“Not even you?”

He titled his head, thinking for a moment, “I might be a close second.”

“Third, Erik’s more scary than you … and Jean oh and Scott-“ he put a hand over your mouth.

You couldn’t help but smile against it, causing his lips to twitch upwards. He pulled his palm away, “Thank you Kitty.”

“Never have to thank me, you know that.” Leaning forward you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You really are my favourite person, you know that?”

“You’re crazy,” he said making you laugh, arms coming round your waist, “But you’re my favourite too.”

Pulling away you stroked his face gently, “You’re a good man, you know that right?”

“You tell me most days. Now read to me,” he said, falling onto his back, hands going back behind his head.

Crossing your knees, you sat beside Logans figure, his eyes falling closed. One of his hands moving to stroke your leg softly. “What are we reading?”

With a smirk you spoke, “Pride and Prejudice.”

Logan groaned, “Again?!”

“Hush Kitty.”

And hush he did, listening to your soft voice hand never leaving your leg. Remaining on that soft blanket with you, until the sun began to set and the stars rise.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

i honestly can’t believe i’ve never done a logan fic but deadpool 3 brought back my obsession big time.

I hope you enjoyed.

Please leave any requests 🫶🏻

[darthannie]

thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader Summary: You accidentally bump into your Professor, Jim, at a sex shop. Word count: 3.3k Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is ~25, Jim is ~45), alcohol consumption (a few sips of wine), kissing, praise, soft dom! Jim kinda, fingering, p in v, Jim takes his time, a smidge of cockwarming, idk what else to put here! a/n: There will probably be a part two where they explore their little arrangement a bit more. Maybe it'll turn into something longer. I love Jim sm. I also want him to FUCK you know. We’ll get there, but I was feeling a lil soft. Also hmmm i wonder why Jim was at the sex shop in the first place.

It was around 5 pm on a Sunday and you were really in need of something new. Very in need. Your old toy just wasn’t cutting it anymore. To remedy this it was time for a trip to Deluxxx, your neighborhood sex shop. Your friend, Nadia, knew someone who worked there and you’d go there for all your wants and needs. You strolled in and gave a wave to the person behind the counter. 

“Hey, David! How’s the shop been treating ya?”

They looked around at the empty shop, “Hey! It’s slow but I can’t complain. What are you in for?” 

You sighed, “You remember that last toy I bought?“ 

”No way, does it suck?! It was so expensive.” 

“No, no it’s great! Gets the job done, waterproof, 10 settings-“ 

“So what’s the problem”, they asked.

You gestured in front of yourself with both hands, “It’s just… a little too small?"

They laughed and threw their head back. “Of course. Well lucky for you we got something new in recently that you might like. It’s in the back aisle, bottom shelf.” 

You thanked them and made your way to the back. You crouched down to find the one David was telling you about. It was definitely bigger than the one you had. And thicker. It didn’t have any extra frills but that wasn’t what you were looking for. You snapped a picture and sent it to Nadia with “new bf” as the caption. You let out a little laugh that was more like an exhale as you got up. Nadia has been nagging you about needing a boyfriend and you said you were just going to buy a new one. You were still looking at your phone as you turned to exit the aisle and bumped into someone. The apology on your lips died as you recognized the person in front of you as Jim, your professor and thesis advisor. 

His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes widened as he recognized you. You were the last person he’d expect to see there but it wasn’t an unwelcome sight. He enjoyed teaching you, not knowing whether it was your interest in the subject or the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He broke eye contact for a moment, scanned your body, took note of the item in your hand, and then met your eyes again. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings and before anyone could say anything he cleared his throat, said “Excuse me” and walked past you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive and it was becoming clear why you did not have a boyfriend. You wanted him. This wasn’t a new revelation by any means. Nadia was in the same class as you, and she bugged you about it almost daily. You hadn’t expected him to find you in such a vulnerable position. You collected yourself and walked swiftly to the counter and paid. Jim was long gone. You said your goodbyes to David and you texted Nadia to let her know what happened.

She called you almost immediately and opened by saying, “So you know you gotta fuck him now. Like you have to. You don’t have an option. You MUST”. You laughed. There was absolutely no way Jim wanted you. You let her know as much and she disagreed. 

“There’s no way he doesn’t want you. Come on. All the silent stares in class. Asking you to stay after. Constant emailing about things that have nothing to do with class. I mean who just emails their student a TED talk because they thought of them? All signs point to him wanting you. AND what about that one day where you teased him about not having a ring on his finger, and he just said I’m working on it? You know there was this smile he gave you afterward that I don’t think you caught. You were too busy hiding the blush on your face”

“I know I know.” You relented, “I don’t know, it just seems so far-fetched!” 

You knew that was the logical response but something was telling you Nadia was right. He had to have known that his voice sent a shiver down your spine. That you wanted him to take you right there on the table after class. You had caught him staring during class. Maybe she had a point. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really did want you too. 

Later on in the day, you got into the shower. Scalding hot water hit your back. You couldn’t help but recount the events from earlier. He had lingered, looked at the item in your hand, and raised an eyebrow. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so familiar. 

Soft music played as you lathered a silky body wash along your body. Your mind started to wander, thinking about what it would be like if it were his hands instead of yours. You rinsed off the soap, running your hands over your arms and breasts all while imagining they were his. You turned off the water, dried off, and headed towards the bag you placed on your small table.

You unpackaged your new toy and went back to the bathroom to clean it. Getting back to bed, you lied down and opened up an incognito tab on your phone. You looked for some porn to watch. Once you found an adequate video, you relaxed and continued to watch. The man in the video touched the woman’s body in all the right places. He laid her down and kissed up her thighs before starting to eat her out. This was enough for you to start teasing yourself with the toy, feeling the weight of it on your clit. Suddenly the video was unnecessary. All you could think about was Jim.

You positioned it just right and started to insert it. You gasped as you felt how it stretched you out. This was what you needed. You paused the video, throwing your phone on the side to focus on the task at hand. You put the rest of it inside you and let yourself adjust to the size. You began to move the toy as you thought of him. You wondered if he felt this good. He had to feel better than this. You got off that night thinking about him and only him. When you finally came down from your high you grabbed some water, cleaned your toy, and got straight to bed. 

You didn’t want what happened yesterday to impact your experience in class so you decided to just go on like nothing happened. 

You headed to the bathroom and began going through the movements of the morning. Before you knew it you were by the building where class was held. A bit further down the sidewalk was Jim walking from the opposite direction. The both of you got to the door at the same time. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave you a polite, awkward smile as he opened the door for you. You returned the smile and walked in. Side by side you walked to the classroom. This time you opened the door for him. You watched as he entered and mentally prepared yourself to take a class. It was just the two of you in the room. You sat at the round table with your laptop in front of you trying your best to seem busy.

He broke the silence, “Did you have a nice weekend?”

You summoned a response, “Yes, actually, I was able to spend some time with myself.”

He quipped back, “Oh, I’m sure you were.” 

Your eyes widened trying to process what he said. He let out a light chuckle as another student arrived. The class was full within the next five minutes. Nadia walked in and looked between you and him. She smirked at you. The air was buzzing for the next two hours. You could cut the tension between you two if you tried hard enough. You asked and answered questions like usual. Each time you spoke he paid extra attention to you. When class ended you began gathering your things slowly, hoping you were the last in the class. Nadia leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Just don’t do it by my seat.” You gave her a light slap on the arm and she laughed. Then, it was just you and him. He approached you and spoke softly. 

“Listen, I apologize if I overstepped a boundary with the joke I made earlier. I thought it would help ease the tension if, I don’t know-“ 

“It’s alright, Professor. We’re both mature adults who can bump into each other at a sex shop and move on with our lives.” You got up ready to leave but he spoke.

“Since when am I Professor?”, he asked. 

You looked at him confused. He clarified, “Since when do you call me Professor? You never call me Professor.”

You cleared your throat, “Well I just thought we should reestablish a professional boundary since the- you know. Keep the personal and the professional separate.”

He looked at you, pensive for a moment. He moved a bit closer to you. “Well, what if we don’t keep it separate?” 

Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” He lowered his voice a bit and moved closer. He ran his hand down your arm.  His mouth was now near your ear. There was no chance someone else was going to hear him, but he whispered anyway. “I think you should come over tonight. If you want to.” 

“Yeah, I want to.” You mentally cursed yourself for caving in so quickly.  

“How’s seven?, he asked.

“Seven’s good.” Your head was spinning. This was happening.

“I’ll also need your number so I can send you the address.” He handed you his phone with a new contact page open. You entered it in, gave him a shy smile, and turned to leave.

He grabbed your wrist before you were able to move away from him. “By the way, leave your new purchase at home. You’re not going to need it.” 

Summoning some courage, you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t close the gap all the way. “Let’s save it for tonight.”, he said as he pulled away. He gathered his things without looking at you and left. 

When you returned home you threw your stuff down and immediately called Nadia. “I KNEW IT!" she yelled. “I KNEW that’s why you hung back. God, it was so tense between you two.”

“You could tell?” You didn’t think it was that obvious until she chuckled and said that everyone could tell. The rest of the conversation consisted of Nadia giving you a pep talk and making her promise you’d tell her everything.  

As time passed you got more nervous. Around six you received a text from him telling you to wear something comfortable, along with his address. You sent a very quick response and, per his request, put on something comfortable. It would end up on the floor anyway. He didn’t live very far from you, which was lucky. You wondered if this would be a one-time thing. What would class be like now? I graduate soon anyway, you thought. If this all went south you could just forget it happened. You got to his apartment a couple of minutes before 7 and he let you up. When you got to the door you knocked twice and waited.

You’d never seen him so casual and… nervous. “Please, come in! You can put your things wherever you’d like,” he said. 

You looked around at his apartment. You could tell a professor lived there. Bookshelves lined the walls. On the dining table, there was a bottle of wine with two glasses. You put down your bag near the door. You didn’t know what to do with your hands. He noticed your apprehension. 

“Do you like wine? I got a nice Malbec after class today. Thought we could crack open a bottle.” 

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.”, you confirmed.

“Me too. But, uh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me.”

He smiled and the tension in your body slipped away. It was replaced by a sense of calm. Jim was letting you into his home, and into his life. You sat down at the table and he removed the cord from the bottle. You watched his hands work, feeling eager to get them on you. But that had to wait, he was about to take his time. He poured you and himself a glass. You sat across from him and took a sip, hoping its effects would be immediate. 

“I’m glad you came. You know, I thought you’d think I was too old for you.” And he might’ve been. Twenty years was a healthy gap but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t indulge in. Hell, if you could, you’d date him. 

“Not at all.” You replied. “I can’t lie, I’ve been thinking about it all year.”

“About what?”, he pushed.

“About… seeing you.”

“You can say it.” He noticed your blush. 

“I want to hear you say it.”, he egged you on.

You sighed, trying to muster up the words. “I’ve been thinking about… being with you all year.”

“And doing what?”, he took another sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to say it?”

“Yes.”, There was no way you would be able to admit it to him fully.

“You want your professor to fuck you. You want me to take you to my room, undress you, and take care of you better than anyone ever has.”

Your face was red. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” You drank from your glass. 

“Come here.”, he spoke softly and you got up. “Straddle me, love.” 

You sat on his lap and he looked up at you, grinning ear to ear. He brought his hand up to your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. It was brief. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. Then he kissed you again. And, again. Then, he started kissing your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as you felt him getting hard underneath you. He kissed and nipped at your skin. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and he pulled it off before you could register it happening. Once it did, you helped him out of his. 

He tapped your ass a couple times, silently saying get up. He walked you backward and pushed you up against a nearby wall. He started removing a bra strap, but you stopped him.

“Well don’t get shy on me now.”, he chuckled. “Come.” He reached out his hand and you grabbed it. He led you down the hall to his bedroom and you sat down on the bed. You took your cues from him. As he started to lean over, you began to lay down. His hand was unhooking your bra with one hand. He was finicking with it and after a few moments, it was off. The cool air hitting your nipples caused them to rise. Jim kissed you again, then kissed down your neck, and finally put his hands on you. He licked, sucked, and grabbed your breasts. 

“You’re so beautiful. Even more gorgeous than I could have imagined. Baby, I need to taste you.” 

You wanted to protest but your pants were already coming off. Your panties followed. He groaned, “Fuck, baby, all this for me?

Before you could respond he kissed the inside of your thigh, then down, down, down until he reached your pussy. You were so wet for him already. He used his fingers first, wanting to feel you first. 

“You always get this wet for your Professor?”

“Yes.”, you responded breathlessly. His fingers were moving in and out of you. Slowly at first and then faster. He hit that perfect spot each time. Then he added his mouth. This time he didn’t go slow. He was licking and sucking on your clit. You moaned out his name and he smiled. He ate you out like his life depended on it. No one had ever done this to you. No one had ever paid this much attention to your body. You were a whimpering mess. His hand found its way back to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He then squeezed, hard, which made you load loudly. 

“Please Jim, I’m gonna cum.”, you plead. 

 He got you close to the edge and then pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of him. “Please, keep going.”

“No, if you’re gonna cum, I’m gonna be inside of you.” He took off the rest of his clothing. You moaned at the sight of him. He was right. You would never need the toy again. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. He knew this and instead decided to tease you with his cock. He dragged it along you and tapped your clit the same way you did with your toy at home. Only this was a hundred times better.  

He nipped at your ear and whispered. “You really want it, huh?”

“Yes,” you begged “It’s all I want.” 

He grinned and entered you slowly and without warning. Your jaw dropped slightly. You couldn’t even make a sound, you were too busy with the feeling of him filling you up entirely. He let out a sigh and grabbed your chin.

“Look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me while I fuck you.” You did as he said. He started to pick up the pace. He was making this intimate. He caressed your face and made almost as much noise as you did. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, following directions. Ready for another one?” You nodded. 

“Get on top. Sit down on my cock.” You started moving before he even finished his sentence. There was no room for shyness anymore. He sat up against the headboard as you sunk down on him; the new angle was doing wonders for the both of you. He thrusted up, wanting to feel more of you. He held you close to him as you began to ride him. 

“You sure know how to treat a girl, Professor.”, you said breathlessly.

He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure know how to treat your Professor. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl.”

His hand found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles. He wanted to make sure you came first.

And you did.

It came in waves. You felt it build up and told him you were close. Then, you fell apart. You pulled him close and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you came. 

“That’s it, baby. So, so good for me. God, such a pretty little thing.“ He took control, holding you up and thrusting into you. The sensation was almost too much to bear. 

“Where do you want it.”, he asked.

“Inside. Please. I’m on the-“

“Are you sure, love?” You could tell he couldn’t wait any longer. 

You begged, “Yes. Yes, I am, just please cum inside me.”

And he did.

He filled you to the brim. You felt him twitch inside of you as his hips stuttered. He held onto you so tightly you were sure it would leave marks. You were both breathing hard. He stayed inside of you and held you against him. He put his forehead against yours as you regained your breath. 

He kissed you again, this time not wanting to pull away. But, you did. You pulled yourself off of him and laid down as the realization of what you did started sinking in. He lied down next to you and stared at the ceiling.

Silence. And after a few moments, you turned your head and spoke.

“So, is this it?” It came out more timid than you would have liked it to. 

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place and after a moment he said, “Oh, love, you’re mine now.”

[dorkybunnydotcom]

TOMURA SHIGARAKI X VICTORIAN GOTHIC / GOTHIC LOLITA READER HEADCANNONS

I can't stop thinking about Tomura with a girlfriend who basically looks / acts like a haunted Victorian doll. This goes out to all my Gothic Lolita baddies and anyone else who loves looking off putting and doll-like… is this self indulgent ? Of course.

{ WARNINGS : Sort of creepy Tomura, Off Putting reader, Sort of OOC… Sorry for misspells I’m sleepy…Enjoy <33 }

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- When most people first look at you they find you rather odd and creepy, the way you dress with black frills and lace and bows- your big almost lifeless eyes that make you look like a doll, and the way you barely speak. But Tomura ? He immediately falls for you.

- He thinks you're absolutely stunning, who cares if you’re a little creepy ? You’re the cutest girl he’s ever seen in his life. You look like you walked right out of a creepy video game, and he loves that about you even more. He loves your big eyes, and how you dress, the way you peer up at him silently when he talks, the way your voice sounds so soft it’s like a whisper.

- Tomura feels like he’s practically dating a ghost- and he loves it.

- He probably listens to Cemetery Girl and In My Room by ICP and thinks about you ( he’s so romantic )

- Speaking of cemeteries- he loves doing all that creepy stuff with you. Gaveyards ? Abandoned buildings ? Oddities fairs ? Of course he will come with you.

- He loves when you kiss his cheek or neck and your dark lipstick rubs off on him, he literally will never wash it off and if anyone points it out he just says that they're jealous he has a petty doll for a gf and they don’t.

- He definitely brags about you to his stupid online gaming friends too.

- He accompanies you to events and concerts whenever he can, he always looks a bit out of place at them but he doesn’t care; any time he sees you happy and enjoying yourself he feels all warm inside.

- You gain a lot of stares because of your looks and sometimes rude comments from strangers or even creepy comments from pervs; he makes sure to find a way to track them all down and decay them for even sparing a rude glance at you.

- He knows all the stores you frequent and from you talking so much about fashion and coords he’s actually picked up some useful information on how to find good stuff, he sometimes surprises you when he gets some extra money… and sometimes he steals it lol but he doesn’t tell you that part…

- Sometimes he buys things that he really wants to see you in, and is happy when you oblige. It’s never in a creepy way, well, even though everything he does is a bit creepy- it’s really always cute clothing. He just feels proud when you wear something he picked out, another reminder that you are his.

- He has also learned how to replicate your routine for the morning and night, so when you’re too tired he is able to do it all for you. At first he complains, calls you lazy, a brat, says he had better things to do. But that’s just a cover for the fact he loves getting to dote over you like his personal doll, dressing you up and doing your makeup and hair. Then at night helping you get it off and get into bed ( or into his lap while he plays his video games ) he’s a total simp for you.

- He rarely falls asleep in his bed, he simply just doesn’t sleep very often- but when he sees you sleeping in it so gently ( his bed which is now practically yours, taken over with your pillows and blankets and plushies ) he just can’t help but pause his gaming for small moments to look at you. He swears it’s not in a creepy way, but he loves watching you sleep, how peaceful you look, how messy your hair gets, how adorable you look in your pajama sets or nightgowns… and sometimes he’s able to pull himself away from his PC just to sit next to you and carefully stroke your hair.

- Sometimes you find yourself restless without him next to you, and half awake you come silently to him as he games and climbs into his lap- ignoring his complaining. He lets you rest there, and you fall back asleep as he curses at the people he’s playing with- and when you are asleep for good he will tuck you back into bed.

- Sometimes you get up in the middle of the night and simply sit at the edge of the bed, maybe trying to relax after grabbing a snack or using the bathroom- but because of your looks you kind of seem like a ghost at night- and sometimes when he looks over and sees you staring there he jumps a little, and then realizes it’s just his beautiful girlfriend.

- He’s so incredibly careful with you of course, but also your items. Your plushies, your clothes, of course. But really especially with your plushies, he knows how much you care about them and would never treat them roughly or accidentally decay them- after all they are sort of extensions of you.

- He matches keychains with you if you ask, he keeps it on his switch or phone as a charm. He cherishes it even though he at first refused.

- Not in a creepy way ( definitely in a creepy way ) he loves the way you smell, you take a lot of care with your appearance and your body care- and so you always smell like strawberries or baked goods, he loves it. He always notices when you’re wearing something different.

- You two look very out of place together, and sometimes when he comes with you in public people assume he’s some creep following you, and when you tell them that he’s your boyfriend they get really weirded out and shocked. You love your creepy boyfriend, though.

- He always compares you to the female characters in horror games ( things like silent hill or fatal frame, Y’know the deal ) and those end up being your favorite games to watch him play.

- When his hair grows out he lets you play with it and puts in bows and hair clips… but if anyone sees he will freak out.

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Hope y’all enjoyed !! Let me know if I should do a fic with this concept… I think Tomura x Cute reader themes are the best EVER.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet One 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 

You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 

“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 

You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 

“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 

“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 

“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 

You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 

“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 

“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  

He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 

“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 

“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say...” 

“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 

“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 

You don’t know how else to explain it.  

He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 

You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  

“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 

You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 

“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 

You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 

“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 

“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 

He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 

Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 

“Yum,” he purrs. 

He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 

He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 

“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 

You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 

“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 

“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 

“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 

He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 

“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 

He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 

He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 

“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  

“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 

“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 

Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 

Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 

You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 

You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 

You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 

You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 

“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 

He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 

Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 

👄

You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 

There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 

You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 

“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 

You shrug and shake your head. 

He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 

Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 

You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 

“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 

He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 

“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 

“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  

“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 

“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 

“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 

He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 

You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 

You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 

You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  

You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 

You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 

“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 

You sniff, “sure.” 

You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 

Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 

“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 

You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 

“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 

You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 

[fawnpires]

may i ask for a arthur morgan x hyperfem reader?

୨୧ — arthur would definitely love himself a hyperfem sweetheart, frills and petticoats and all.

CONTENTS -> hyperfem! + ditsy reader, older!arthur, brief mentions of an age gap relationship, lil’ bit naughty at the end but nothing serious.

you’ve always been heavier on your girlish charms, it’s been a signature staple of yours for as long as you could remember. despite the industrial, lacking-in-color, gloomy america; you were definitely the type to stick out like a sore thumb— a somewhat high society lady in a way. fashionable sore thumb. it’s not your fault you were born into such a cesspool.

ribbons in your hair and lacy, silkened dresses hugging your body wasn’t exactly the norm, at least, not when you were with him.

maybe it was because you were still at the stage of being an explorative young lady, or that naviety that’s always been branded onto your name, but you were almost— quite literally— positive that he had stolen your heart, the one that you’ve seen on wanted posters hung up on the bulletin and power wires, that man. got yourself tangled up with someone on the run, an outlaw with a reputation of a rumored depravity and ruthless violence.

he’s the exact type of man your mother would send herself on a frenzy about, the type your father would have no hesitations sending a bullet straight through the temple of his sun-kissed forehead. how strange you would expect to find yourself right on the opposite side of the warnings you’ve been given throughout your oh-so sheltered life.

but being the girl that you were, you were never one to listen. weren’t into all that abide-by-the-rules bullshit, fit right into being a proper first-class lady.

maybe that’s how you found yourself on the bad man’s lap. arthur’s lap. the prettiest— and the best damn score— that the guy’s ever won for the van der linde gang. you were the definition of a perfect doll to arthur, had a huge heart to match with the looks too. couldn’t ever resist your smothering kisses around his scar-faded face.

“y’know sweetheart, it’s still a wonder as to how i’ve got you all to myself in the first place…” he says with a throaty chuckle, using a hand to smooth out the ruffles of your skirt, “girls your age ain’t really into folk like me.”

you can only roll your eyes, pop your glossy, rosy lower lip in a pout, and think of his words as ridiculous before so confidently responding with, “oh, please. i’m the happiest a girl’s ever been, arthur.”

and he wasn’t going to lie about this, but all this constant, undying affection you had for him? an immediate swell going straight to his ego. nothing like some youthful thing’s obsession to make him feel at least twenty years younger. he’s getting older, after all— so, it was essentially just a waste not to spend those years with someone worth putting all the effort on.

although this didn’t technically make your relationship that much morally correct, by society’s standards at least.

what would a violent, older criminal on the run want with some rich family’s youngest daughter aside from the money?

they don’t get it and they probably never will, they’re not you or arthur, they know nothing about the either of you— because there was no logical explanation to that statement when he’s kissing so fervently at your lips, at your skin with a certain kind of authentic tenderness you’d only see in the motion pictures. even taught himself the silliest practice of braiding hair and tying ribbons for you. that’s what arthur wanted with you.

with him, you felt wanted. the very apple of his eye.

his usually such coarse hands were so gentle with you, molding into your supple flesh, leaving traces of him along the surface. especially visible when when the both of you are out for the night, cooped up in some small town’s saloon, his forearm enclosed around your waist and having you pulled to his side—hand absent-mindedly running up and down your torso decorated of the finest lace.

you guessed you weren’t exactly a common sight around these parts when more than enough of the saloon’s patrons started eyeing you up from across the room, albeit not daring to wander one inch closer; not if they had wanted to stumble right out of there with a broken nose bridge and a couple of teeth knocked loose.

that didn’t really stop arthur, though. something about another man, didn’t matter who the company was, bad intentions or not— he’d still meet them out back, returning to where he left you at the bar with velvet, torn-up knuckles after what felt like hours. what could he say? he just didn’t like when you were being viewed through the lenses of some obvious pervert. next thing you know, you’re being taken by the hand, arthur thankfully getting you out of that slum and helping you onto his steed, back pressed against his sturdy front.

it was near midnight at this point, and you could tell by the tranquil atmosphere settling in, fewer folks out on the trails at this time, the stars blooming across the dark canvas of the sky in glistening rows. peaceful— much rather preferred than sitting in a saloon, acting as eye-candy for those grimy outlaws.

“little brutual, dont’cha think? you finally ask in a tease, tilting your head back, gazing up at his aging face with those doe eyes of yours. made you look all the more angelic from this angle, especially with the way your smaller fingers are running over his split, blood-crusted knuckles aimlessly.

he takes his focus off of the trail for a short moment, a smug smirk pulling at his lips before looking away once more.

“who d’you take me for, darling?” he questions, that same teasing manner hidden in your voice now residing in his own, “i’m not just going to let some depraved bastards eye my girl up and down, makin’ me sick…”

you snicker under your breath. “that just makes me think i’m too pretty for my own good, huh?”

“oh yes, too pretty indeed,” arthur moves his free hand over your leg, palm starting from the outside of your frilled skirts before miraculously sliding, finding its way under the decorated layers. makes your lower stomach churn with that familiar warmth, your heart rate on a high. the things this man does so easily to you was nothing short of impressive.

“you’re gettin’ touchy…” that’s all you can bring yourself to bashfully mumble out, bottom lip being bit down on amid the pout you persisted on with.

you already feel so weak at the knees, so wound up with the simplest of touches.

“i know, baby,” he whispers to you now, a wolfish grin weakly coming to form on his lips. his hand doesn’t dare to move further from its place resting on top of you thigh, like he knew it was complete and utter torture to not indulge in exactly what you wanted right there and then. greedy bastard. “i’ll tell you what, i’ll get us a room for the night, get you outta these clothes, and you ain’t gotta worry about carryin’ all these fancy layers around. how ‘bout that?”

his words were considerate albeit evidently suggestive, how sweet. but arthur was just like that, he did that to you— a natural-born sweet talker who just happened to fall into a more illicit line of work.

with the way he was pressed up against you now, hand practically embedding itself at the soft flesh of your thigh, and a nearby inn coming into view, it was all the more apparent what your would response to be. hell, it might’ve well just been perceived by the look on your flushed face frames beneath the moon’s glaring beams.

leaning back, you’ve got some subdued, mischievous glint in your pretty eyes, and a tone in your voice that compliments with the energy he’s got exuding—

“you’ve got yourself a deal, mister morgan.”

[dreamgrlarchive]

Dear dream girl, I really want to be my dream girl but I don’t know where to start. I feel unmotivated most of the time and I only get a burst of motivation at like 3 am. I just what to glow and radiate good energy for myself and find/do what I like

Oh, So You Wanna Be a Dream Girl? 🎀

starting your dream girl journey

Congrats on choosing yourself and your tiara; I am so proud. Prepare to not be liked, to be judged, and to stand out. It’s lonely at the top.

*this guide is for starting the process, not reaching the end result because my version of my own dream girl is inevitably different than yours. bare in mind i’m not holding your hand. i’m nudging you in a good direction.

what is a dream girl?

a dream girl is a girl that has finally fallen in love with who she sees in the mirror. she’s the girl that she can depend on. she has her desired look and she’s on the path to self actualization actively. she’s aware of her branding. she holds herself to the standards she holds other to; and they are HIGH. her self worth isn’t contingent upon a love interest, amount of money, or social status. she’s simply that girl.

do some healing.

yes, i said it. healing. like i’ve said before, you cannot put glitter on literal garbage. that’s not even the slightest bit appealing. you’re gonna journal about your childhood, your biggest influences in life, your biggest fears and how you feel life has treated you. this calls for shadow work. shadow working really helped me figure out some of my toxic traits and how some of the things that were considered normal to me as a child have affected me in the long run. you’re also gonna write hypothetical letters to your loved (and not-so-loved) ones, including yourself. let it all out. say everything you want that person to know. around you or not, dead or alive. prepare to clam up, cry, get angry, feel anxious. good. you should. you feel clammy, hot and sometimes pain when your body is fighting off and healing from a physical sickness. now you’re dealing with the developmental, mental, and emotional parts. you’re doing yourself a disservice choosing to stay the same toxic, nasty, mean, or victimized person you’ve always been.

what do you want?

before you can start to even do the smallest improvements, you have to have a clear goal. or else you’ll just be running around in circles (heh) over grandiose blurry wishful thinking. ultimately resulting in you giving up and choosing to be basic bc it’s easier. what do you want out of life? how do you want to be treated? what do you want to do? what makes you happy? and most importantly, how do you want to feel? see, it’s more than just the frills and glitter. you have to know what you’re trying to get to, internally and externally.

grab a diary, adorn it with pretty little details and commit to it. pair it with your fav writing utensil. outline all of your goals. every single last one of them. you can categorize them, scale them from short to long term, easy to hard. it doesn’t matter. do absolutely what you want to do to make a concrete record of your goals that’s digestible for you.

what are you going to do?

*fabulosity by kimora lee simmons*

compare your dream reality to the one you’re currently experiencing. what is she doing that you aren’t? that’s it. do that. anyone can read blogs about the process and other people success stories but those posts aren’t gonna change your life unless you get up and go for what you want. i don’t know what exactly you desire out of life. you do. so you have the instructions for this journey. the first part was easy, this is simple but not nearly as effortless. it’s up to you and not anyone else. you teach others how to treat you. improvements you can make include better: hygiene, self talk/treatment, outward energy, work ethic, discipline, health, consumed content, relationships, looks, habits.

the work

it’s time to apply yourself. get up everyday and actively work towards your goal. be kind to yourself. take yourself to the doctors. get active. eat right. find your passion. DO THE HEALING.

everyone’s journey is SO different so i’m just going to do a quick rundown of the importance of each of the ten facets of your dream girl journey (that build upon each other. ie; looks do not benefit you when your hygiene is insufficient):

*these facets are loosely based on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

health - are you taking care of yourself? please treat yourself how you would your loved ones. you’ll be surprised how physical issues manifest mentally, and vice versa. get adequate sleep. take baby steps if need be. some of these adjustments may be huge to you. be gracious with your journey.

consumed content - everything you engage in is your diet. the company you keep, food you eat, music you enjoy. you get the idea. do you feel light and ready to take on the day? or do you feel drained and sick more often than not. make some adjustments wherever you see necessary.

hygiene - extremely important. stick to a routine for your hygienic needs. you should have rituals you engage in everyday. don’t forget that your health and hygiene go hand in hand. oral and feminine hygiene is so crazily important. please don’t neglect yourself. i talk about my routines in detail here.

habits - daily habits are so crucial to your lifestyle. adjust these and consciously break your bad habits by supplementing your life with equal and opposite habits.

self talk/treatment - simple. be kind to yourself. hold yourself accountable for flaws and mistakes while loving yourself enough to be patient with the journey of improving.

outward energy - be very aware of the vibes you’re permeating. again this is so a huge determination of how you will be treated and how you will live your life.

work ethic/discipline - it’s gonna take serious accountability to escape the desire to stay comfortable. you have to tell yourself that you deserve *your desired end result* so you will *make specific change/adjustment.* it’s that simple (again simple doesn’t mean easy).

relationships - if you don’t like the way you’re treated by those in your life, those relationships need to be reevaluated. you can make some trims on your circle, have some honest conversations, or adjust your behaviors (because sometimes, YOU are the problem).

passion and career - in order to feel fulfilled in life, we all need a purpose. discover yours. incorporate your passion into your daily life.

looks - develop your signature and hone in on it. looks are very important to your perception (self and public). check out this guide to help with this part. however you wanna feel is how you should display yourself.

be a dream girl!

you’ve discovered all the facets of creating your dream self and reality. now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. start showing up in life in the fashion you want to be seen in.

that’s it! the rest is up to you!

- xoxo, dreamgrlarchive 🎀

[sadiestarrs]

Pray For A Sign

Warnings: slight internal homophobia mentions, idk that’s it ig

A/N: this was released early bcs i love you guys 🤍🤍 this is proofread and also inspired by this fic!!! thank you so so much for liking cherry red, my other fic! idk when pt2 will be released tho😔

Plot: after being dared by ellie to deface school property, the two of you end up in detention together

Word count: less than 2k (i think)

You had never imagined yourself in detention, let alone for four hours.

It was unfortunate how you were the only one caught on that night, spray painting a rather foul image on the school banner. None of it was your fault though. You couldn’t back out. Especially because Ellie had dared you.

Everyone snuck out after curfew, meeting at the back of the canteen and hanging out. You had never participated in this congregation: there was too much homework and studying to be done. But you were dragged out by some new friends, whilst half-asleep, encouraging you to try something new.

At first, you sat there like a stiff wall, not really joining in until someone called out to play truth or dare. As soon as the circle is formed, you “accidentally” lay your eyes on the gorgeously toned person sitting directly in front of you, who also happened to be staring.

There’s too much happening to notice the two of you eye fucking each other, but the growing heat inside your chest and on your cheeks was very noticeable.

The bottle spun countless times before it landed on you. And when it does, she’s the first to give you a command. Spray-paint a dick on the school banner outside.

You didn’t want to do it, not at all, but she was staring at you—they all were. An intrigued, mischievous stare straight into your soul. Before long, a brand new can of neon green paint is placed into your hands, paired with meticulous sneaking through the quiet halls.

She sticks near you the entire time, not close enough to worry, but enough to make your breath quicken. Just do it and run away. It’s just a dare. No big deal. You try everything under the sun to keep yourself from freaking out but nothing works. Your parents raised you to be a rule-following, obedient person, if they saw you defacing school property, they’d ship you to the middle of the ocean.

“You don’t have to look so nervous, you know.”

It takes a while to register that she was talking to you. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the ladder steady, just make sure to hold your dress down.”

You look down and realise that you were still wearing a nightgown, cut short by your mid-thighs with little frills and lace edges. Could this be more embarrassing? Ellie smirks before walking ahead, leaving you in heated self-consciousness.

All you wanted was to be back in your dorm. Would they notice if you left? Yes. Yes, they would. And you would never hear the end of it. If you were dared, you had to follow through or be left with social isolation.

A strong breeze hits your bare skin, making you hold your arms close and minimise movement. As you do this, you see her staring, standing in front of everyone and waiting for the coast to be clear.

She lets everyone go past and sticks behind, leaving just the two of you. “You cold?” Pulling off her light grey, Ellie hands it over, insisting that you take it. “No, it’s fine, keep it.”

Instead of accepting, she pushes the hoodie into your hands, walking away before you can say anything. It’s all too much. You had never even had a conversation with her before and now she’s giving you things? You didn't even want to put it on, but feel another gust of wind and quickly change your mind. It smells exactly how you imagined. Just like Ellie would.

She had a reputation for being “bad” and unreliable. You had never personally seen that side of her but you had heard about it many times. So seeing her now act friendly and even caring was more than strange. It was suspicious.

“Go on, Newbie.”

The group waits for you to ascend the ladder, menacingly laying their eyes on you. Just like she said, Ellie stands nearby, holding the rickety object in place.

Please God, if you’re going to answer my prayers, please answer this one. You receive no response. Instead, you have to make your way up, stopping every two rails to take a deep breath. Heights were never your strong point.

“Come on! We don’t have all day.”

Were they getting off seeing you suffer? This was all new. You never hung out or joined in on their group antics. This was a mistake. All of it was. You shouldn't have given into peer pressure. That's all they taught at your school, for God's sake.

When you reach the top, after a painfully long extent, you open the can and begin spraying, receiving splatters of the neon chemicals on your face.

Quiet cheers could be heard from below, and if you weren’t busy simultaneously trying not to fall and keep your dress down, you would have enjoyed it.

When you're done, a breath you didn’t know you were holding is released from deep in your chest. Now you might finally get their approval.

“Shit.”

They scramble from below, everyone separating and running in different directions. No one bothered to help you down or even warn you that a Sister was coming.

“Hurry up!”

The only person left. You didn’t realise she stayed. Ellie.

Briskly helping you get down, and holding your hand for milliseconds, the two of you try to escape before being stopped by another Sister.

That was how you ended up in detention.

✦

“Graffiti. Damaging public property. Public indecency. The odds are stacked against you two.”

You sit in a century-old wooden chair, dust-coated on every surface whilst listening to the Sister reprimand you. And Ellie.

Luckily, she was the only person left when everyone had run. You couldn’t tell the Sister that you were dared, anyway. If anyone found out that you snitched, then you really would have to leave the country. It was funny how she considered your night dress as indecency, though. You barely manage to stifle your laugh.

“It wasn’t her, I promise. I’m responsible because I told her to do it.” Despite her efforts, the Sister doesn’t listen to Ellie, raising her eyebrows and sitting at her desk, leaning back before falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Ellie gets up, making you look at her from across the room. “Are you mad at me?”

It’s a dumb question. So dumb that you don’t bother responding.

“Hey, you can’t say that I didn’t try. It’s not my fault that I’m a great darer.”

“That’s not a thing,” you bitterly respond, turning away and stewing in your own little rage. Four hours. Four hours that could have been dedicated to studying or sleeping. Wasted by sitting in an old room with someone who you couldn’t stand looking at for longer than three seconds.

Ellie wanders around the class for a bit, lifting books and analysing small things. She even stands next to the Sister, messing around with her pens but receives no laugh from you. Before long, she makes her way to a window, cracking it open and stepping out before coming back in.

“You coming with?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

Not only was she breaking the rule about not leaving your seat in detention, she was leaving the room.

“No, Ellie, of course I’m not coming with you. I’ve already gotten in enough trouble and my parents are probably gonna pull me out of here by the end of the week.”

“Well let’s spend your last few days having fun. Please?”

She was convincing but you had to remind yourself that she was the one who put you here in the first place. You shake your head no and continue staring forward, not being tempted by her longing gaze.

You hear a sigh before the window opens and twigs snap underneath her feet.

✦

“I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson now, child.”

You shake your head eagerly hoping that it will make her stop talking. “Don’t forget that the eyes of God are always watching.” Mhm. “Keep out of trouble or you’ll be sitting here once again.” Mhm.

Finally, you’re able to go back to your dorm after a back-breaking four hours in that cold, clogged classroom. You hope for the walk to be quiet and pleasant but are proved wrong after seeing the same auburnette sitting outside. Waiting for you.

You can’t come up with a reason why she would wait. Ellie had gotten away with sneaking out and still managed to be there for you.

“Can I walk you to your dorm?”

The answer that leaves your mouth is no when your heart truly wants to say yes. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that to yourself. No. Ellie was bad news. A name you hear and shudder after. Not someone that the likes of you should be walking with.

But still, you let her, awkwardly avoiding any and every type of contact, audial and physical. She still tries, though, making small talk and little guesses about your personality.

“Let me guess, your parents sent you here so that you could become a better person? Yeah, that’s most of the stories around here.”

She continues this one-sided conversation, yapping to herself in an honestly cute and almost funny way.

“Why don’t you hang out with anyone? I’ve never really seen you around, and I know most people here.”

The real answer was not due to shyness or lack of confidence. It was because of something deeper inside you. Something that you couldn’t explain. Something that only came out when you were around Ellie. You had always known what it was but never tried to face it. It was pushed to the back of your mind, left to be forgotten about. The way it should be.

When the two of you finally make it to your dorm, Ellie pushes her way through despite not being invited in.

“Damn, you keep your room really clean. You should see mine, it’s a mess.” The mere thought of being in Ellie’s room makes your heart skip a beat.

She fiddles with a few things around, smelling each perfume and examining the few stuffed animals on your twin bed. “This is by far the nicest dorm in the school. I should visit more often.” A small wink is passed your way.

You don’t object to her snooping. In fact, you begin to welcome it, now answering her questions and entertaining the conversation.

“What happened to that hoodie I gave you?”

The hoodie. Was it shameful that you held it in bed with you every night since that day? Yes, definitely yes. But it smelled like her. And it was probably the closest you’ll ever get to her.

“Do you want it back?” You begin to look under your covers for it before grabbing it from underneath a bunched-up blanket.

“No, no it’s fine, keep it. I like how you have it in your bed.”

God, this was mortifying. You don’t respond, quickly chucking it back onto the bed. “I have plenty more hoodies if you want any.” She offers you a list of her belongings just about stopping at underwear.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes and instead look at the clock. 8 PM. You had missed so much studying time because of detention and needed to catch up on thousands of subjects.

“I’m sorry, Ellie, but I have homework and studying and-”

“You want me to leave, don’t worry, I got it. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Instead of moving towards the door, she takes a step closer, closing the already small space between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat. What was she doing? She examined you like she did in detention. Only now in your room.

“Nice work on the banner.”

With that, she gives a small smile, one with something hidden behind it. Something that only your heart could see. The thing you had buried inside yourself.

“Bye, Newbie.”

[noodle-bin]

Baby Blue

Leon Kennedy x reader

Summary: Leon comes home to his princess, but she needs to be punished. Good princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, so daddy must fuck her ass instead.

Tags: DDLG, smut, daddy kink, breeding kink, reader is a little, funishment not punishment, anal, squirting, pussy neglect, true princesses name their plushies, I’m sorry this is feral

Word Count: 2.6k

Ao3 cross post

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Leon’s drive home was filled with overwhelming thoughts of you. He was able to get out of the office early, and all he could think about was rushing home to you. To his princess. He found a sense of stability in being your daddy and being able to protect you. When he couldn’t manage to protect everyone, he knew he would always protect you. It helped ground him and give him a very controlled responsibility, and you loved it just the same. You loved letting yourself be nurtured. With such glossy, round eyes as yours he really couldn’t let anybody else have you. You were gorgeous and you could only be his.

When he got home, Leon found you in the living room curled on the couch. He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him when you rushed forward to meet him. Leon could feel the swell of your breasts and your hands squished against his chest as he looked down at you. There were your big round puppy eyes again, looking up at him, begging. Begging for what? Noticing the gentle way you squished your thighs together gave him a pretty good answer as to what you were begging so quietly for.

“I’m home princess,” Leon pressed several kisses all over your face, stopping at your forehead. “Is there something my princess needs?”

“Daddy’s attention! I missed you!”

You were a needy girl, needless to say. You tried to feign innocence when you clearly knew how to push Leon. Pressing your tits against him when you grabbed his arm, or “readjusting” constantly when sitting on his lap. From choosing a revealing top or a fitted dress, the constant teasing never ended. Even through the frills and bows adorning you, you always looked at him the exact same way. With round puppy eyes begging to be taken. It’s the part you enjoyed the most, honestly. Feigning innocence just for Leon to corrupt you bit by bit. To take his princess and watch her tear-covered cheeks as she takes his cock into her throat. To teach her what it means to be pleasured. It’s not like you didn’t know, but you loved to play the part. It was natural. To be his little princess who couldn’t possibly be dirty enough to think about wanting sex.

Leon kissed your forehead again. “What did you do today, princess?”

You bit your lip, tasting the strawberry gloss you had applied earlier. “Mm, I got home from work and, and I took a nap with Capt’n.” Captain was the shark plushie that you adored. Captain could always protect you while Leon was gone. “I also colored for daddy.”

“Good girl, show me what you colored for daddy.” Leon watched as you grabbed the coloring pages you had left on the living room table. They were pages of Sanrio characters, specifically Cinnamoroll.

“Remember Cinnamoroll, daddy?” You began to chat away, talking about all sorts of fun facts of the dog.

“Yeah, princess?” Leon listened and refilled your sippy cup with apple juice.

The ddlg lifestyle was quickly adopted once the both of you had opened up about it. It was a bit obvious in hindsight through the nurturing role Leon chose to take, and how little you were sometimes. Frills and bows seemed to follow you everywhere, glitter pens were always around, and baby blue was your signature color. The lifestyle also caught up in small actions. Not only did Leon open the car door for you, but he also took the time to buckle you in. Feeling his large presence reach around you to buckle you in made your feel all sorts of safe. Kisses on the forehead were endless, tying your shoes was a given, and nicknames too. Pacifiers became the norm, and you used sippy cups instead of “grown” cups. The plushie population was duplicating in size and needed a net to be kept in the top corner of the room. Smaller snacks like animal crackers, cookies, or gummies were carried with you everywhere, and Leon loved to steal them from you too. You let yourself indulge in cute accessories day to day. Keychains, stickers, glitter pens, cute notebooks, hair bows, the list continued. But your favorite part of it all were Daddy’s rules. In a sheet on the fridge you had written them out with numerous glitter pens and highlighter colors.

୨୧ Bedtime of 11pm.

୨୧ No swearing as a little.

୨୧ Always obey daddy.

୨୧ Use your manners.

୨୧ Compliment yourself every morning.

“Princess it’s getting late, we’ve got to get you to bed,” Leon reminded you, handing you your apple juice. “We need to clean up your mess,” he gestured at the crayons and snacks around your coloring book on the table.

You pouted, grabbing the sippy cup Leon was handing to you. “Can’t we leave it to tomorrow, daddy?”

“No buts, princess. We can’t leave a mess,” Leon kissed your forehead again, patiently waiting to help you pick up your coloring materials.

You looked him in the eye, “No.”

“What was that?” Leon grabbed your chin. He didn’t like when his princess disobeyed, but he smiled knowing you would have to be punished.

“I said no.”

“My my, such big words for my little girl. That just won’t do. Disobeying daddy means punishment, princess. Pick up your mess. Now.” Leon said firmly.

Your plan failed. He didn’t bite the bait. Or so you thought. Leon was considering all the “punishments” he could do to you as he watched you from the doorway. This was a major offense; disobeying daddy without a good reason. It was a critical rule. He watched as you groaned and put your crayons and coloring book away into their designated spot. You grabbed Captain off of the couch and trailed behind Leon into the bedroom. He kept his hand on the small of your back as the both of you stepped in, the covers a little out of place from the nap you had taken earlier.

You chatted away as Leon chose the pajamas you would wear to bed, and helped take your makeup off.

“Your eyeliner is really good today, princess,” Leon noticed as he gently wiped it away.

You beamed under him, allowing him to wipe your face clean. He kept noticing the way you squirmed and squeezed your thighs together. You were more restless than normal.

“What do you need, princess?”

You stopped squirming and looked up at Leon. To be honest, you wanted to be fucked. But you didn’t want to be so blunt. You tried to give all the signals, truly! But he wasn’t getting it.

“You.” You looked at him with your doe eyes again. Can’t he take the hint?

“Princesses don’t get rewards for disobeying,” Leon chided, but his own body was fighting against him. The bulge in his pants was getting harder to hide, but he wasn’t to blame. You really were so soft under him, your body pliant to his tight grip. He wanted to kiss you and eat you whole, glitter and all. His hands trailed down to your ass and squeezed, but he noticed a certain bump. You had a butt plug in. My my, does this change plans.

“Bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked.” Leon continued, squeezing your ass again. You moaned quietly, clinging onto Leon’s chest as he played with you. The disappointment finally settled in. No matter how much you teased, he really wouldn’t fuck you tonight for disobeying.

“Since bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, I guess I’ll just have to fuck your ass.” Leon said before he pulled your shorts down to squeeze your ass again, his hands trailing to the butt plug you had in.

You gasped at the sudden motion, but smiled so big at him, “Really daddy?”

He kissed you softly as he played with your butt plug. Thrusting it in and out slowly, working you open with the lube you had previously. Your knees were going weak at the pleasure and you threw your hands around Leon’s neck to stay upright.

“I’ve got you princess,” Leon cooed as he felt your hole relax around the plug. He continued to work your open, feeling you thrust back onto the plug. You let your head fell into Leon’s shoulder, feeling him pepper kisses on your head as he stared at your round ass below.

“Such a pretty princess,” Leon cooed again. The strain of his bulge against his pants reminded him of his own need, but he had to make sure you were well prepared first.

A few kisses later and you were on the bed, pajamas thrown to the side. Leon’s body loomed over you, hand on your hip and the other supporting him on the bed. It didn’t take long for your kisses to turn more desperate and heated, your own teeth nibbling against Leon’s bottom lip.

“Daddy,” you whined, throwing your arms around his neck again.

Leon shushed you with more kisses and gently pushed your back onto the bed. Once he pulled away, he took the time to really take you in. Staring up at him with doe eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. You were the finest painting he has ever seen. Your hair was splayed out like a halo onto the bed, and he decided he needed to have you at that moment. He reached forward and flipped you over onto your stomach in one swift move. He made sure to grab Captain and gave him to you so you had something to hug while he fucked you.

Gentle fingers trailed down your spine, slowly taking in the curve of your ass. He spread your cheeks to see your little pink hole, stuffed with the plug and leaking with lube. He slowly pulled it out not without noticing the way your hole twitched at its absence. You turned your head to look back at him, his gaze fixed on your body. Leon’s hair covered half of his face, but the deep groan he let out was a clear sign on how he was feeling. He needed to stuff you. Needed to feel you take him whole and cry out for him. Daddy needed to take care of his princess.

“Are you ready for your punishment, princess?” Leon kneaded your ass all while his gaze remained transfixed on your hole. The urge was clawing him from the inside out. He was going to stuff you.

His briskly took his clothes off to finally have his leaking tip pushing at the tight bundle of nerves. You waited with baited breath as he slid his cock between your cheeks, teasing you.

“I want you inside, daddy,” you whispered, staring at him with your begging puppy eyes again. Fuck. You were going to be the death of him.

He finally pushed his cock inside, taking in the sensation as he filled you to the brim. Your breath quickened and you let out a deep moan at being stretched and full. You felt whole. Leon watched you stuff your face into Captain, watched the rise and fall of your back, as he stayed still inside. Rubbing small circles onto your back to help you relax. The urge to fuck into you like an animal was bubbling just under the surface, but he withheld. He had to take care of his princess. He needed you to feel comforted, safe, and pleased.

It didn’t take long before he finally felt your body relax around him and he began to slowly thrust. His pace was so slow, but it was so overwhelming you wanted to cry. You loved the way Daddy stretched you so full it was tipping on the edge of pain, and you wanted more. Leon moved so slowly and gently, working you open with his cock. He watched the way your body trembled under his touch, giving into his ministrations. You molded around his cock perfectly as if you were made for him. Made to be stuffed by daddy’s cock.

“Daddy,” you whined into Captain.

Fuck. Calling him daddy like that did something to him.

“I know baby, I know. Let daddy take care of you.” Leon continued his slow pace. Your mind went blank at the sensation, squeezing your eyes shut from the pleasure. It was too much. If he fucked into you any faster you were sure you would break. But he didn’t, he held himself back knowing you were struggling to take him. So he was slow, grinding into your heat, feeling the lube leak onto your thighs.

A few thrusts later and the begging began. You wanted more —no, needed more. And Leon was right behind you. Baby. His baby. Stuff his little girl until she was full. He couldn’t stop looking at how your small hole took him so nicely, seeing you take the sheer size of him. He pressed his body lower and kissed the junction of your shoulder before he finally quickened his pace.

You cried from pleasure, clinging onto Captain as you felt Leon’s balls slap against your weeping cunt’s entrance. It felt neglected while your ass was being fucked into instead. It was so lewd listening to the wetness of your asshole being fucked, squelching around Leon’s cock.

You were doing such a good job, squeezing around Leon relentlessly and taking him whole. He groaned at the sensation, his orgasm creeping up behind him so soon. It was like his body was moving on its own by caving into the need of fucking into you; feeling your hot walls squeeze around him. It felt so good you couldn’t imagine stopping. His cock working you open, only for him to pull out and watch you gape around his absence.

“What a filthy little princess. Needing her ass fucked for being a bad, bad girl.” Leon watched with bated breath as your asshole twitched around nothing, his cock aching to stuff you again.

“Daddy,” you cried, aching to be filled again. You shook your ass, trying to get him to fuck into you again. “Please fuck me!”

You cried as he finally pushed his fat tip past the tight bundle of nerves, groaning as he bottomed out inside of you. He really was going to rearrange your guts.

It felt so shameful to like having your asshole fucked instead of your cunt. It was dripping wet, begging to be fucked into instead of your ass, but this was your punishment. Only good girls deserve to have their cunt used, and tonight he was going to breed your ass and watch the cum drip down onto your cunt instead.

So he continued to fuck into you, your cries only pushing him to fuck into you longer.

“Poor baby, you want your cunt fucked into don’t you?”

You cried into Captain, the pleasure overwhelming. Your body started to twitch and you felt the sudden wetness gush between your thighs. Leon held onto you as your squirt continued to gush with every thrust. Too much. Too much, you can’t. You lay beneath him, trembling and crying. Babbling about how you couldn’t stop, can’t imagine stopping, you needed more. Leon listened, feeling you squeeze around him was finally pushing him over the edge.

“I’m gonna stuff you so full baby, can you take it? Take daddy’s cock? Yeah?” Leon groaned as he gripped your hips, snapping his own flush against yours. Yeah, he was going to stuff you.

His own orgasm chased after yours, finally filling you. You trembled at the sensation of Leon finally pulling away only to watch his cum dribble down onto your weeping cunt. It didn’t take him long to notice the puddle of squirt you had made on the bed too. What a sight, his princess had taken him so well.

[hlficlibrary]

HL FIC LIBRARY ☕ Coffee Shop Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

☕ I’d Still Dance With You by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo {M, 57k}

“Liam, if you met someone that you really liked, would age matter?” Louis asked. “I suppose so; to a point, anyway.” “Like, how young would you go?” Liam thought it over. “Uh… I don’t know. Like, 24?” Louis groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “Why? How old is this guy you like?” “Twenty-one,” Louis muttered. “Hang on. He’s 21, and you’re… what? Twenty-eight?” “Yeah.” “Wow. Um… well, OK. That’s a, uh, that’s a gap.”

Or, the 21/28 age difference fic where Harry is younger than Louis thought he was, and even though Louis’ head is telling him not to pursue anything, his heart doesn’t seem to agree.

☕ I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours {T, 34k}

Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype.

It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

☕ love drunk, waiting on a miracle by @hellolovers13 {E, 30k}

Christmas inspired Coffeshop AU

Harry has a bit of a crush on a customer. Thankfully, the feeling is mutual.

These are their first 24 days together.

☕ And That’s The Tea by @2tiedships2​ {M, 27k}

I’d like an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, please.

Louis had the phrase memorized, even though it had disappeared off its place on his upper arm over thirteen years ago now.

At fourteen he didn’t understand. Soulmarks don’t just disappear. Not unless…

Unless one of them dies.

Or, the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.

☕ Friday I'm in Love by @perfectdagger {M, 25k}

It has a pattern, Harry has noticed.It’s not that he has been observing the guy who regularly comes to the coffee shop for the past few weeks; but he totally has.It’s also not Harry’s fault that he’s infatuated with the guy who apparently follows a very repetitive schedule.

Or the one where Harry works at the coffee shop and Louis goes there almost every day and Harry is head over heels for him, making his love life look like a The Cure song.

Inspired by Friday I’m in Love by The Cure (obviously).

☕ From The Heart (series) by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 24k}

Every Tuesday, Louis spends his day off holed up in his favorite coffee-come-bookshop, writing his little stories as part of the WordPlay challenge while daydreaming about the resident barista, Harry. Each week a new word prompt is revealed and Louis adds to his series of short stories about Henry, the owner of a B&B in the Cotswolds who has curly hair and dimples, Lewis, his long term guest who just happens to be a writer, and Tigger, Henry’s cat.

As Louis and Harry’s friendship develops, could his fantasy world spill out into real life? And how does that reader who leaves the lovely comments with the teacup emoji seem to be able to read Louis’ mind?

☕ ever since new york by @sunflower-live​ / sunflower_live {NR, 22k}

Louis works at a coffee shop in NYC and he pines endlessly after the boy who lives above it.

☕ blend into my favourite colour by rainbowninja167 / @rainbowtitania {T, 19k}

Harry often wonders if they’ll ever meet in real life. And if Harry will recognize Tommo the instant they see each other, like somehow their souls will just know. Or maybe Harry’s soul is shouting “Louis!” too loudly for any other signals to go through.

Harry is a barista with a secret Werewolf High fan blog, a desperate crush on a customer named Louis, and a best friend on Tumblr who always makes him laugh. Louis can't figure out why the barista at his favorite coffee shop keeps creepily staring at him, and to make matters worse, he may be slightly in love with a friend he met online.

A love square involving two boys, one TV fandom, and one food fight.

☕ The Importance of being Earnest by @louloubabys1992​ / louloubaby92 {NR, 16k}

Harry cannot help but pay extra attention to Louis' order, even if it is just a warm cup of tea with a dash of milk and no sugar. He also makes sure that the Danish Louis asks for is warm and fresh from the oven and not the one in the display, even if it means delaying Louis a bit when he fetches said Danish from the kitchen. It's all worth it when Louis smiles his crinkly smile at him before he rushes off to work.

Man, he's hot, he cannot help but think.

Or Harry is a barista who's been harboring a crush on Louis for months. Little does he know that Louis actually likes him back.

☕ Before We Ever Wrote a Song by @casuallyhl​ {E, 13k}

Harry just can't be around Louis when he's flirting outrageously with Chad Michael Murray. So what if he's the star of one of the country's most popular shows? Harry's seen an episode or two and it's not that great. Sure, the drama is exciting and all the actors are attractive and it’s shot in his hometown, but still. Not that great. Certainly not great enough for Louis to fall over himself every time Chad enters the coffee shop.

Harry doesn’t want to watch the over-the-top spectacle, which is why he usually retreats.

And besides, it hurts to see the boy he’s in love with flirting with someone else.

Or, Harry and Louis work in a coffeehouse on a film studios lot, and Harry wishes Louis would pay half as much attention to him as he does the famous actors.

☕ A Love Stronger Than Espresso by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix {G, 12k}

Louis is entirely dependent on caramel mocha in the mornings, but soon he finds that there's one thing at the coffee shop he needs more than coffee - a cute barista named Harry.

aka: The one where Harry is a cute barista guy and Louis plays hard to get by using a different name to order coffee each day

☕ John Doe by FitzAndLarry {G, 12k}

John Doe I don't even know you, but I know fo' sho' That you are beautiful, so baby let me know Your name Damn what's his name?

xxx

There's a boy taking the stand at the open mic night where Harry works as a barista, and he's going to find out the boy's name if it's the last thing he does.

An ode to Never Shout Never, and a story about finding a new home.

☕ Coming Home Through the Dark to You by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 6k}

Harry Styles works at the Fox in the Snow, the most hipster coffee joint around. He's got too many roommates and a best friend he met his first day of university who he might very well be head-over-heels for.

☕ ‘Sup by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics​ {G, 6k}

Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results.

Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him.

ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

☕ Time Of The Season by alienharry {NR, 6k}

When writer's block stands in the way of Harry completing his second novel, he turns to the sweet-smelling omega behind the counter of his new favorite coffee shop for inspiration.

☕ I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You) by @fallinglikethis {NR, 5k}

Louis is a barista who’s had his heart broken. Harry is the boy who wants to put the pieces back together.

☕ That's Not My Name by @lululawrence {NR, 3k}

He froze for a second, because he hadn’t expected to be hit with such an intense gaze. Green eyes beneath a beanie and loads of curly hair made Louis miss a beat before coming back to himself.

“Uh, hi. Sorry. Can I take your order?”

The boy (man?) gave a shy smile and said, “Just a caramel macchiato, please. Grande.” Louis nodded as he scribbled onto the cup and punched it into the register.

As the boy held his phone to the machine to pay, Louis asked, “Name please?”

“Oh, uh, Marcus.”

Louis scribbled Marcus on the cup and handed it off, but not before giving the boy a smile and nodding over to where he’d be able to pick up his drink. Louis watched him a bit longer than he probably should have, then forced himself to move on.

Or the one where the cute boy coming into the coffee shop gives Louis a different name every time...for over a month.

☕ A Cuppa Courage by @juliusschmidt {G, 3k}

Liam kicks Harry's shin, picking up another cup to fill. “He seems like he’d be a good catch, if you liked guys, I mean.”

I do like guys, Harry does not say, even though he’d like to shout it at the top of his lungs. I DO LIKE GUYS.

[a fluffy lil' fall coffee shop coming out au.]

☕ cursing the cosmos by 5sexualhomos / @hogwartzlou {NR, 3k}

In a world where people have timers counting down to when they meet their soulmate, finding love is easy. Harry meets Louis in a coffee shop one day. They slowly fall in love, the only thing holding them back is that they aren't soulmates.

☕ baby baby, you're a caramel macchiato by @missandrogyny {T, 3k}

So, yeah, Harry doesn't think it's that far of a stretch to call himself a good barista. There are some particularly bad ones, and some particularly good ones, and, with his work ethic, his skill, and his charm, he'd probably be lumped in with the latter group.

☕  tell me what you need by @disgruntledkittenface​ {G, 2k}

“And a fresh cherry?” he asks, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. He waits as Louis stares him down, his brow furrowing.“No? What the fuck,” Louis rasps, looking bewildered.

coffeeshop AU based on this iconic prompt:

harry: can i please get a semi-iced half caramel half vanilla decaf latte with no foam using fresh almond milk with a small swirl of whipped cream covered in a pinch of cinnamon and a fresh cherry? louis: ...no? what the fuck

[angelwishess]

— 🎀🕊️ The ethereal yet odd prefect of Ramshackle.

This version is old! Updated intro is here!~

“How did I get here? Why, I wished upon a star, of course!”

Nicknames: Prefect / Prefect of Ramshackle, Henchman (Grim), Trickster (Rook), Little Shrimpy / Sea Angel (Floyd), Kid (Leona), Child of Man (Malleus), Lacy, Ra-ra (Cater)

Grade/Class: Freshman/Class A

Birthday: May 5

Age: 16

Height: 170.18 cm (5’7 ft) ( 175.26/5’9 with her heels!)

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: ???

Club: None yet !

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Hobbies: Designing and making clothes

Pet Peeves: Indecisiveness and living routinely

Favourite Food: Burgers !

Least Favorite Food: Steamed fish and liver

Talent: Making clothes out of just about anything!

Likes : Fashion, Cute things, Mythology, Folklore, Fairytales, Flower language, “Adventure”, Anything considered “Art”, Ribbons n’ frills, Pranks n’ mischief, Amusement parks, adrenaline rushes, Cute sweets and cafe hopping!!!

Dislikes : “Boring things”, Normalcy/Living life routinely, pessimism, indecisiveness, lack of freedom, strong smells, studying, silence, humid weather, being looked down on.

Gender & Sexuality: cis girl, demisexual + demiromantic

Voice Claim(s):

ENG: Briana White (Aerith from Final Fantasy)

JP: ??? (None yet!)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

— ₊˚⊹ The mysterious prefect from another world, Kyra Lovelace exudes an ethereal aura that draws in people and animals alike.

Easy to approach, its easy to let your guard down around her without even realizing it! Well, mostly because she doesn’t seem like a threat at all.

It almost feels like she was pulled straight out of a fairy tale! The way critters big and small flock to her— they say that they even helped her clean up the Campus when she was still a janitor!

(Strangely enough, this also extends to beastmen and merfolk. Such a strange thing, isn’t she?)

With how kind she is, it feels like she really is an angel sent from above! Ever so eager to help whenever she can without ever asking for a thing back, even if they never even asked her.

Of course, people aren’t always as they seem.

Kyra is an uncontrollable force of impulsivity and chaos! Wherever she goes, trouble is sure to follow! With an insatiable desire for adventure and an almost childish curiosity and wonder of everything— Kyra is much more mischevious than you’d think!

Incredibly chatty and foul-mouthed (and fluent in brainrot) with absolutely zero filter, Kyra says whatever is on her mind, and does whatever she wants, whenever she wants!

So dont be surprised if she randomly dissappears out of nowhere, only to come back with trouble burning hot on her heels, and eyes full of wonder! Shes an odd one, thats for sure. You never know whats going to come out of her mouth!

Despite how rambunctious and uncontrollable she is— you’ll find that she’s wormed herself into your heart, and its already too late! Because once she sees you as a friend? Hah, good luck getting rid of her!

An amazing friend in all seriousness, but be ready to face whatever trouble she brings with her! The definition of ride or die, if you can’t handle it then don’t bother sticking around, cuz’ the fun (and chaos) never stops when Kyra is around!

Its undeniable that Kyra leaves an impression! Shes the kind of person you’ll remember even years after a little interaction, she leaves a mark on everyone she meets and her larger-than-life persona is sure to be remembered by all! If you’ve met her, you’ll never forget her. Thats for sure!

Even if she seems rather naive and simple minded at times, shes actually very thoughtful. She has an admirable view of life, and honestly? The best way to describe her is love itself.

She loves so, so very much. Shes so full of it, and it overflows onto the people she interacts with. Shes very emotionally intelligent, and knows just the right things to say to people. A lover in spirit, she can tell when someone’s hurting. After all, shes been there, too.

Perhaps its a little foolish, she can be too trusting of others, choosing to see the best in everyone regardless of who they are. But she’d rather love too much than not at all.

She loves living, she loves every little thing. She has no room for shame nor hesitation because she loves living so very much, she refuses to waste time standing at the sidelines (Not anymore). She lives without regrets, with no restraint, nor fear. She lives as she pleases because that is what living should truly be, shameless and raw. To be who you truly are unashamed, to let yourself shine brighter than the stars! ♡

Sadness is nothing to be ashamed of. Feeling overwhelmed? Stop on by at Ramshackle, and the little mischevious angel of a prefect is sure to sit down with you and listen. Because, she loves you, too!

“Whats done is done, nothin’ we can do about it now other than laugh about it and move forward! Whats the point in feelin’ bad anyways? No point in waiting for the world to stop spinning, yeah?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

—₊˚⊹ Funfacts n’ Trivia !

(+ some doodles~)

(the quality is so bad pls…)

🎀 Kyra is not twisted / based on a specific character, but she is just the embodiment of the kind of person i aspire to be! Free, positive, and full of love! Basically a ball of blazing chaos and love, with a lust for life.

🎀 I gave her some typical Disney Princess characteristics (the talking to animals, ethereal beauty, ykyk) just because i thought it’d be funny paired with her personality!

🎀 Kyra’s name means “Shiny” in Japanese, but it can mean “Lord”, “Princess” or “Lady” in other languages!

🎀 Kyra’s last name, “Lovelace”, originates from the word “Lawless” or “Outlaw”! Which honestly fits her and her attitude perfectly, as well as how cute it sounds despite its meaning lol

🎀 Uses her affinity with animals for her ‘little shit’ shennanigans. Has sent an army of rats to Octavinelle during Book 3 out of pure spite, and always wins Croquet with Heartslabyul because the hedgehogs roll into the goals even though she clearly missed (shes actually really bad at croquet.

🎀 ^^ Her natural ability to draw in animals doesn’t stop there— but it seems beastmen and merfolk alike are also drawn towards Kyra! Although much more subtly. Though, don’t be surprised if a beastman comes sniffing around her without warning! (She doesn’t mind, she finds it cute!)

🎀 With waaay too much energy, Kyra just cant stay still for a minute! Always off on some random side quest, working a part-time job at Sam’s just for the fun of it to partying it up with Scarabia, she just can’t stick to one thing for too long! She’ll dissappear for a minute and come back with something completely random. You really never know with her.

(Parents got confused and picked Side Quest Daughter)

🎀 She has a concerningly high pain tolerance. Could be stabbed and be bleeding out but wont notice until someone points it out.

🎀 A total klutz. Shes so clumsy its actually unbelievable how clumsy she is. She could be walking so gracefully then suddenly trip on air. Bumps into literally everything. (The truth about her high pain tolerance— its because shes so clumsy shes so used to getting hurt by random things)

🎀 She adores fashion and hopes to one day be a fashion designer! Her personal style is himekaji.

🎀 She customized her uniform herself, and has always been fond of making her own clothes out of spare cloths and fabrics ever since she was a child! Her first ever dress she made was from the fabric of a curtain.

🎀 Despite how rambunctious she can be— Kyra can also be incredibly gentle. This comes out whenever taking care of her friends, even if she finds it funny to (playfully) bully them, she doesn’t mind letting them lay in her lap and quietly singing to them until they fall asleep.

🎀 She has a scarily good inuition!

🎀 Hoards things like a goblin. Whatever random object she finds she just keeps it, regardless if its worth anything. Her ‘hoard’ consists of trinkets that vary from ‘cool shaped rock on the side of the road’ to ‘a literal gemstone mined from the depths of Briar Valley my friend Hornton gave me!’.

🎀 shes an adrenaline junkie.

—₊˚⊹ Fatal Flaw(s) :

💔 (Self) Toxic Positivity : Anyone who knows Kyra knows just how positive she is. But, what they don’t know is how deeply imbedded it is in herself. Although Kyra always speaks about how important it is to allow yourself to express your emotions, be it anger or sadness, she encourages others to express themselves.

But that does not go for herself. For some reason, she refuses to ever show any sign of “negative” emotions in herself.

Toxic positivity is a "pressure to stay upbeat no matter how dire one's circumstance is", which may prevent emotional coping by feeling otherwise natural emotions. Toxic positivity happens when people believe that negative thoughts about anything should be avoided. Even in response to events which normally would evoke sadness, such as loss or hardships, positivity is encouraged as a means to cope, but tends to overlook and dismiss true expression.

Instead of properly coping when faced with overwhelming, negative emotions, she instead chooses to ignore it entirely. She jokes about it, and pretends it doesn’t exist. All of these pent up emotions keep on layering on eachother, yet she continues to bottle it all up until she explodes.

💔 Impulsivity, with zero regard for safety : Infamously known for her reckless behavior, but her impulsiveness constantly puts her in danger. It doesn’t matter how many times she gets hurt, she just keeps on doing it— constantly running head first into danger again and again with zero regard for her own safety and health.

💔 Calm— to the point of being uncaring : Kyra is coolheaded. As chill as mount Everest, and goes with the flow just like water following a stream. This calm mindset is both a blessing and a curse, even if she is good at staying calm even under crushing pressure, she can struggle to see the urgency in situations until its too late.

Often brushing off clear warnings, reassuring herself and everyone else that it’ll be finee! (It wont.)

She lacks that sense of danger needed for survival— but not all hope is lost. After all, theres always room for growth!

“If you keep waiting until you’re ready, you’ll be waiting for your entire life. People will always judge you no matter the time of day, so just go on and be yourself!”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

—₊˚⊹ Notable Relationships !

— Kyra x Floyd !! (AngEel)

(Yeah they have the dumbest ship name ever but i think that makes it fit even more theyre so STUPID !!! IM GONNA BITE RHEM !!!!!!)

SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVERS !!! SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVERS SLOWBURN IDIOTS TO LOVER SLOWBURNIDIOTSTOLOVERS THEYRE SO AAAA

The cutiest patooties EVER !!! If you like a dramatic, angsty ship, unfortunately they aren’t for you !!! The only thing you’ll get from Floyd n’ Kyra is tooth rotting, diabetes inducing FLUFF and a major headache while watching them obviously be basically a couple— but refuse to acknowledge it.

Ever since they both caught a glimpse of eachother, there was always this strange feeling of familiarity. As if they’ve met before, somewhere… Perhaps once upon a dream? (Nah, jk. Opening scene ref!!! She took his hand teehee)

They’re canonically soulmates. Eachothers compliment, theres no one on land nor under the sea that could ever be as in sync with Floyd as Kyra is. They just… Click. Their hearts beat in the same pattern, and they’re always on the same page. Well, even when they aren’t and they argue, they can never stay mad at eachother for too long.

Remember what I said about Kyra being naturally very touchy? Yeah, this is a whole new level. Kyra has no problems showering Floyd in kisses and affection, both physically and verbally, even if they are in public. She doesn’t see how it could be seen wrong, after all they are just the best of friends !! Shes just really comfortable with him, thats all.

In fact, she gets cuteness aggression from him! Thinks that hes the cutest thing ever, and she just cant help but swoon and coo at him, squish his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses!

Floyd doesn’t mind at all! And returns the favor! Of course, there are times where he isn’t in the mood, and Kyra is more than understanding. But no matter how upset or angry Floyd gets, he could never be at Kyra. He’ll come to her grumbling about whatever hes annoyed about and melt into her arms, and she’ll listen while carressing his hair and humming along.

Its hard not to assume the two are dating, when Kyra runs into his arms at match speed once hes in view, and he picks her up n’ spins her around like they didn’t just see eachother earlier in the morning. Hard not to assume they’re dating when Kyra tells him ‘I love you!’ So shamelessly in public.

Hard not to assume things when Floyd is so obviously, ridiculously soft around her. Absolutely smitten, you can practically see his heart eyes, paired with that lopsided, dopey grin. Not to mention the way his mood seems to do a total 180 and cheering right up when Kyra is around! He could never get bored with her, even when they’re doing nothing but laying in bed together in silence. Everything they do, in his opinion, as long as theyre together, then its fun.

Are they really that oblivious…? Theres no way… But, it seems as time passes, the realization is beginning to dawn on both of them! Its about time! (No, seriously. Everyone is sick of them. Especially Ace. Gags whenever he sees them being all “lovey dovey”, pun intended.)

— Kyra & Leona !!

After Book 2 Kyra basically looked at Leona and said “yeah, thats gonna be my big bro!” And ever since she just refuses to leave him alone. Literally.

Kyra sees the good in Leona, she knows deep down he does care for the people around him even if he says he doesnt. And she finds it so endearing!! She loves him dearly as her big brother, and wants to help him get his motivation back!!! (Has absolutely tricked him into doing his own homework by pretending it was hers.)

Though he won’t admit it, he sees her as a little sister and somehow takes pride in knowing she knows she can depend on him.

— Kyra & Malleus !!

The best of friends ! Late night walks where Malleus— or, Hornton, talks about gargoyles and Kyra listens, and talks about whatever comes to mind. Kyra always invites Hornton to Ramshackle for a little hangout, and she enjoys playfully bullying and bantering with him. Malleus finds it amusing how ‘brave’ she is, and plays along. What a funny little human!

Who could be a better friend than Kyra? She was practically meant for this! Platonic soulmates?? I think yes!!!!!!

They exchange random little facts, Malleus talking about gargoyles n’ architecture while Kyra talks about mythology from her world! (“He… Ate his own children…?” “Haha, yeah.”)

Kyra absolutely teaches Malleus brainrot. She has no regrets.

— Kyra & Adeuce Duo !!

Her day ones, and also victims of her Found Family Beam. (Seriously, shes just out here building a family like this shit is Toca Life 😭😭)

She especially has a soft spot for Ace! Even though she bullies him the most and they banter (and fight) like siblings, she cares for him more than she’d ever admit.

She finds Deuce adorable! His biggest supporter, even if she doesn’t like studying, she tries to help him whenever she can! (Jokes that Deuce is her favorite and she’d “throw Ace in the trash”.)

Adores the two with all her heart. Will always be looking out of them in both big and small ways, she trusts them entirely, fully! Would trust them with her life, but not with the food she was saving for herself.

— Kyra & Grim !!

She always found Grim so very cute! As an animal lover, she couldn’t bring herself to ever dislike Grim. Of course, they got even closer as time passed, and she cares for him like a son! Views him as such, and loves to cradle him in her arms. (In private, of course. The Great Grim has a reputation to keep up!!)

— Kyra & Divius Crewel !!

Same thing that happened with Leona, she kind of just looked at him and went “Mmm yes, father figure time!!!”

Although she doesn’t like to open up much, she often finds herself doing just that when talking to Crewel one on one. She feels as if she can rely on him.

Admires him a lot! Especially with his designs, she begged him to teach her some of his tricks that he picked up. Her biggest inspiration to pursue fashion designing as a career! Shes so thankful for him, as a role model and as a father figure.

“The world is so much more beautiful than most realize. Life is a gift. Don’t worry, you can rest. I’ll be right here until the sun rises again, and we can face tomorrow together.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[sxcret-garden]

5th Desire ღ Dress [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ words: ~7.2k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho (soft dom to glimpses of hard dom… he’s going thru it ok kasjdflka), sub!reader, clothed sex, dry humping, body worship, a bit of breast play, he gets a little possessive, praise, pain kink, hair pulling, biting, spanking, unprotected sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, reader going into subspace, dacryphilia) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamics (him pulling reader’s hair), reader’s mother has very traditional values and a toxic view on beauty standards, reader’s body is commented on once

Desc.: Your mother is trying to get you to wear a dress she picked out for you for your cousin’s upcoming wedding. At times like these you are especially thankful to have your boyfriend Jongho right by your side to help convince her to let you wear clothes you’re actually comfortable in. However, little do you know that despite having your back, he’s secretly smitten with the image of you in that dress.

← prev chapter ღ next chapter →

As soon as you get home that day, you make your way straight to the sofa, and without even saying a word you plop down on it. You letting out a huge sigh as you allow your frame to crash into your boyfriend’s side while he’s focusing on a video game makes him chuckle, and when you rest your head against his shoulder and you close your eyes, you can feel the onset of a headache. 

“Your shopping date with your mom was a success I assume?” he asks, sarcastically, yet the smile on his face stays visible. A glance at the tv in front of you tells you he’s playing with friends, their in-game nicknames displayed in the corner of the screen. 

“For who?” you retort.

“For her,” he laughs, and you say nothing until he finishes the current round. Picking up his phone, he types up a quick message in their group chat, telling them to go on without him, and after closing the game, he turns his attention to you fully. “You look really tired. Was it that bad?” he asks, now putting an arm around your shoulders and leaning against the backrest of the sofa, so you could snuggle up to him more comfortably. 

“It was… exhausting,” you mumble, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” Upon hearing his question, you bury your face in his chest and you let out the most pained groan you can muster, followed by Jongho letting out yet another soft laugh, “So no.”

“Just…” You sit up eventually, now resting your elbows on top of your legs and massaging the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger in hopes the pending headache would go away. “Why does she want me to wear a dress so badly? It’s fine if I go in pants, isn’t it?”

“I mean, you should wear something fitting for the occasion. It’s your cousin’s wedding after all,” he says. “Whether that’s a dress or a suit doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“My mom keeps saying it’ll look dumb if we’re both in a suit,” you mumble, and your boyfriend lets out a noise of disapproval.

“Should I wear a dress instead, then?” he jokes and manages to make you laugh with the mental image. 

“Backless please,” you chime in. “And with lots of frill.” A huff of disbelief escapes him as he looks away, and you find yourself grinning. “No, but seriously,” you then say. “I don’t know how many times I told her that I don’t like wearing dresses in public. I just don’t like how they feel, but she keeps insisting…” You sigh, pulling out your phone and opening your camera roll. “See? I don’t even think they suit me that much,” you continue, while you show a picture of you in one of the dresses your mother had made you try on to your boyfriend. 

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows at the rare sight. “I think it suits you though?”

“Whatever…” you sigh. “I mean… thanks I guess? But…”

“Yeah, I know,” he reassures you before you even have to say anything. “If you don’t like wearing them, you really shouldn’t have to.” 

“Yeah…” you agree, before lying down and curling up on the sofa, putting your feet up on his lap. Another sigh follows as the headache is still present, and to be perfectly honest all you want to do is forget about that stupid wedding. Well, not entirely. It’s not like you don’t want to go. You’ve been fairly close with your cousin when you were children, and even though you’ve been out of touch for a few years now, you still really want to be there for when she gets to marry the man she loves. 

Just not in a goddamn dress.

“Should we… maybe try talking to your parents together, then?” Jongho’s suggestion tears you out of your thoughts. 

“We?” you repeat.

“I mean…” he clears his throat, “They like me, right? Maybe they’ll listen to me…” You give him a long and thorough look. “Maybe not…?” he adds, but you shake your head, sitting back up.

“No, that might actually not be such a bad idea. I mean… it��s true that my mom really likes you… and you know how to get people to do what you want…” He can only let out a sheepish chuckle at your last words. “Yeah, let’s do that. My mom asked me if I want to come over for coffee next Wednesday anyway. I’m sure she won’t mind if I bring you along… if you’re free then?”

“Sure,” he says, once again putting his arm around you as he notices you slouching over. “Don’t worry too much about it, okay?”

The excitement radiating off of your mother’s face is apparent as always when she welcomes you and your boyfriend at the doorstep. She greets your boyfriend first, commenting on his nice outfit, and her expression changes ever so slightly when she gets to saying hi to you. 

“Such a handsome boyfriend you have…” she mutters at a volume where he would still hear, and with a flustered smile he turns around and bows in thanks.

“He is,” you agree, not knowing what to make of her words, and you feel yourself tensing up a bit. Is this already the thing she’ll use as a transition to the wedding outfit talk that you dread so much? Jongho notices your anxiety and he reaches out to take a hold of your hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“It’ll be fine, just trust me,” he whispers when your mother disappears in the next room, leaving you by yourselves as you’re taking off your shoes and you each grab a pair of slippers to wear inside the house instead. Your mother offers the two of you some coffee, calling you into the kitchen to help her prepare it - like a good wife, as she always makes sure to tell you - and Jongho doesn’t let the chance slip away to make himself useful too. Your mother seems overjoyed as she watches him snatching the cups away from you and carrying them out into the living room himself while shooting you a knowing look and you silently thank him for it. You reach for some milk instead and carry it to the table, and when all three of you have made yourselves more or less comfortable, with your beverages in front of you, she doesn’t leave you on edge too long.

“So, Y/N,” you suppress a shudder when she calls out to you, “have you decided which dress you want to wear yet?”

“Uhm… not yet,” you say, lowering your head.

“You know we have to order it a bit in advance,” your mother explains without hesitating. “You should make a decision by the end of the week.” You sigh, and as you’re about to say something, your boyfriend speaks up instead, pulling out his phone. On the screen you can see pictures of pantsuits just like the one you have in your closet. 

“If I’m allowed to interrupt - wouldn’t this suit Y/N much better?” Your mother seems about as dumbfounded by his bold move as you are, but you decide to do as he told you for now - to trust him. “A good friend of mine is a tailor, actually.” He clears his throat and then continues, “And that friend told me that a suit would look a lot better on someone with a figure like Y/N.”

“Oh… really?” your mother is hesitant to buy into what your partner is telling her, but she gives him the benefit of a doubt and keeps listening.

“Yes. Pants suit her shape a lot better than a skirt, and a well tailored suit will also make her look taller and give a more elegant expression.”

“Oh…” your mother gasps again, and then she takes another close look at the picture on your boyfriend’s phone. “You’re right.” Though the conversation you’re witnessing feels just a little bit uncomfortable to you, you’re definitely glad she seems to finally be convinced, and so you dare to speak up.

“Yes, that’s why it would make a much better image if I wore a suit, mom,” you add, finding her nodding at you. 

“Right, I didn’t see it that way,” she says, seemingly fascinated by the image of the model in the suit. Directed at you, she asks, “Is that why you don’t want to wear a dress to the wedding? Because you’re worried about what others might say about how you look in it?”

“Yeah,” you lie.

“Hmm… well, I suppose this is probably the better choice then…” You gulp at her words, and as you remind yourself that this is all for the greater good, you swallow the bitter taste in your mouth that the conversation is leaving you with. You grew up always having her tell you about what your body is supposed to look like as a girl, and what it isn’t supposed to look like, and though as an adult you’ve mostly moved on from such comments affecting you too much, being confronted with her views that are so different from yours again now is still not easy to deal with.

Still, you walk out of your parents’ house a couple of hours later, knowing that your mother won’t disapprove of or pester you about your outfit choice anymore, and so what remains is your gratitude towards your boyfriend for making it that way.

“I’m so sorry I had to say all that…” He speaks up the second the door to his flat falls into its lock, and you feel his arms wrapping around you from behind. 

“It’s okay, I know why you did it,” you assure him as you feel him putting his chin on top of your shoulder.

“You sure? You seemed very hurt by it…” he says, and you spin around in his hold, taking his hands into yours.

“Yes,” you say, giving him a confident look now. “I’m sure. My mother wouldn’t have been convinced otherwise, this is all she cares about. My image.” Before all the anger and sadness that your words and the conversation with your mother evoked can bubble up fully and take over you, Jongho takes a step forward, having you lean your head against his chest as he wraps you into a warm embrace.

“You know that’s not true,” he says, and he’s probably right, but you don’t want to think about it right now.

“Thank you anyway,” you mutter into the tight hug, snaking your arms around his waist to return it. “Really, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Of course…” he mumbles a response, one hand coming to rest atop your head. He supports your weight as you let the exhaustion of the past days take over you and you lean against his frame. That’s when a thought hits you, and you stand up straight.

“Am I… being dramatic about this?”

“Huh?” Jongho raises his eyebrows at you.

“I mean… it’s not that big of a deal, right? …the dress.” You avoid looking at him, and after a few seconds of silence, he places his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him.

“Hey. It’s very much a big deal for you, or you wouldn’t have tried so long to convince your mom to let you go in pants,” he reminds you, and you find yourself nodding.

“You’re right…” you say eventually. “You’re right, I don’t have to do something I’m uncomfortable with, even if it’s what my mom wants.”

“Exactly.” He gives you a smile, and you think you can see a hint of pride behind his expression. Kicking off your shoes, you walk into his flat, and once you’re both standing in the living room, you spin around on your heels.

“How much of what you said was a lie though?” you question, and your boyfriend shoots you a bright smile as he follows right behind you.

“I made up like 80% of it,” he admits, coming to a halt right in front of you.

“The tailor friend?”

“A lie.”

“Whoa… and you told that whole story with a straight face, huh? Scary…” you say, and Jongho laughs, well aware that you’re joking. Then you become serious, and you mumble, “Thank you again… how can I repay you for this?” You close the distance between you and him, and when you throw your arms around his shoulders, he’s quick to take a hold of your waist. Gaze wandering to your lips as he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, he hesitates.

“Well…” 

“Well?” 

“I do… have an idea. Even though it’s probably a little… no, it’s very unreasonable…” He looks away, an awkward expression appearing on his face that tells you he isn’t sure whether he should really let you know about this idea of his.

“Why?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Because… actually, remember that picture you showed me in that dress?”

“Yeah…?” You have a hunch about where this is going, but you let him finish anyway.

“It’s just… I kinda… haven’t been able to get that out of my mind…” You take a step back, and you catch a glimpse of the way his ears are taking on a shade of red.

“You want to… see me in a dress?” you take a guess, making him admit to it.

“Yeah… only if you want to, of course! I don’t want to make you do anything you feel uncomfortable with! You really don’t have to-”

“Hey,” you interrupt his rambles, answering his hesitant gaze with a certain one. “I think… it’s okay… if it’s just you seeing me. I mean… I feel uncomfortable wearing dresses when I go out… but if it’s in the comfort of my own place or yours… it’s fine I think?”

“Oh…” he lets out a small gasp, and then again he adds, “But you really don’t have to.”

“I know that, dumbass,” you joke. “You’re not my mom.” The comment makes him smile as he lets go of the tension in his shoulders, and you continue. “But now… no more talk about dresses for today, okay?” You close the distance between you and him, until you’re in your earlier position - your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and him supporting you by the waist.

“Okay.” He smiles, before you lean in to press a short kiss to his lips.

Lifting the skirt of the flowy summer dress up a bit and then letting go to see how the fabric softly sways back into place, you look at your frame in the mirror, and for the first time in a while you’re not super uncomfortable with what you see. It’s a white dress, decorations stitched onto the very top of the chest part with a fine orange yarn, and you can’t recall when you wore it the last time. You spin on your tiptoes to look at how it fits you from the back, and the skirt moves along with your half turn prettily. The thin fabric is wrapping itself around your waist a little tightly, but you don’t mind it this time - you know it’s only your boyfriend who will see you like this, so you don’t need to worry about how the piece of clothing fits you, if the skirt would ever ride up too far, or what kind of strangers would feel like they have permission to stare at you for a little too long in public. You turn back around, and your features shine through the white fabric - you decided not to wear underwear on purpose, wondering if your boyfriend would like the surprise. In this case, you want him to stare.

You walk out into the living room on quiet footsteps, and you grin to yourself as you find him disappearing towards the kitchen area, from where he can’t see you approaching the dinner table. Leaning against the edge of it, you call out to him.

“Baby, I have a surprise for you!” 

“What is-” As soon as Jongho catches sight of you, the words get stuck in his throat. Instead, he’s now taking in your figure, the lower part of your body still hidden behind the table, but from the way the look on his face immediately changes, you can tell he likes what he sees. “Ah…” His lips part to make way for a sound of pure admiration, and he approaches you, until he’s standing right in front of you, being able to take you in whole now.

“You wanted to see me like this, right?” you mutter, a bit amused by the image in front of you, because it’s rare to see your boyfriend this stunned.

“I did,” he mutters lowly, taking another step towards you and putting one hand on your waist, while he uses the other to tilt your chin up. You gulp at the need reflecting in his eyes, and as he leans in, your eyelids flutter shut. But instead of kissing you on the lips like you expected, he buries his face in your neck instead, now wrapping both arms around you, and you gasp when you feel his teeth grazing your skin. He works his way up until his lips hover beside your ear, and you can feel his hot breath against it as he speaks, “You look beautiful.” You catch a glimpse of his expression as he moves to brush his lips against yours, finding both a certain softness to his gaze, and a deep desire behind his eyes. 

You let him kiss you, melting against his touch as he keeps withdrawing in between in order to tease you, and when he sinks his teeth into your lower lip, nibbling on it for a while, you mewl at the sensation, your hands reaching out and finding his clothes to hold onto. 

“So pretty…” he mutters in between kisses, until he eventually takes a step back to let himself take in the sight in front of him once again. “And mine.” His palms find your chest, and you don’t miss the sharp breath your boyfriend sucks in as his fingertips wander past your nipples shining through the thin fabric, continuing their journey south, until they find purchase on your hips and he leans in again. “So fucking beautiful,” Jongho mutters, before he closes the distance between his mouth and the exposed part of your chest. You lean back, your hands placed behind you, supporting yourself on the surface of the table, and you give him full access to your neck. He takes his time worshipping every inch of you that he can reach, nips and kisses placed all over your collarbones and your throat, up to your jaw, and when he calls out to you, you look back at him, finding yourself melting against yet another kiss to your lips. You only break apart when you gasp upon feeling his bulge pressed against your stomach, and you moan when he rolls his hips against yours once and you find the need in his eyes. One hand finds its way up your torso, and he watches as he slowly lets it brush against your tummy, your breasts, and eventually he wraps it loosely around your throat, causing you to throw your head back.

“I’m glad, though…” your partner mutters, withdrawing his fingers from your pulse to find your chest instead, and you mewl when he starts massaging your boobs. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to see you like this anyway.” You gulp at his words - you’ve never seen him getting this possessive. And at the same time it excites you. You rub your thighs together instinctively, but he’s quick to reach down with his other hand, having you spread them apart with a simple gesture, before he reaches for your core, dragging his fingers down between your folds with only the white fabric in between.

“No underwear, hm?” he mutters, burying his face in the crook of your neck to make you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your flesh and he continues teasing your pussy, staining the inside of the skirt with your juices. “That’s dirty,” he comments, before you can feel his warm tongue pressing against the spot where he just bit you, and you buck your hips into his touch involuntarily, resulting in him taking a step back and removing his hands from you. “Fuck, I want to keep teasing you so bad,” your boyfriend says, his eyes glued to your body, “but you’re so fucking beautiful…” You don’t see where those two things would contradict each other, but he doesn’t leave you much time to think about it anyway as he takes you by the hands and leads you over to the sofa. He sits down and pulls you into his lap, having you straddle him.

“Ride me, my love,” he mutters, his palms rubbing against the skin on your thighs underneath the dress. The way he’s gazing up at you now he looks completely drunk on you, and it makes your stomach flip. 

“Okay,” you mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and you start at a slow pace. And even though he drags his palms up just a little further so they would rest on your hips, he lets you decide on the pace yourself. Grinding down onto this clothed cock, pussy rubbing against the strained fabric of Jongho’s pants, you let out little whines with every repetition of your movements. Leaning your head back, he gladly accepts the invitation to attach his lips to your neck again, kissing and nibbling at the skin, and you wonder if he’s being careful enough not to leave any bruises by the end of this. But it’s not like you care at this very moment, where you have more pressing things on your mind. 

“F-feels good…” you mewl, running your fingers through his hair, and you shiver when you can hear your boyfriend moaning against your nape.

“Shit, are you gonna cum just like that?” he asks, and you bite your lip.

“C-can I?” you ask, crying out when you can feel him thrusting up, wordlessly. By the way his breathing is getting heavier and occasional groans escape him, you can tell that he’s coming close too - until suddenly he stops you, his hands still resting on your hips. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand that you’re supposed to wait, though seeing how close you were to tumbling over the edge, you’re not entirely happy about it. Your partner reaches for the waistband of his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear just enough to expose his length, and when he puts his hands onto your thighs again, he pulls you closer. He hisses another curse as you roll your hips against him, having his tip merely grazing your folds, and the sharp pain of him digging his fingernails into your flesh in response has you letting out a whine.

“Fuck…” you breathe out, as an entirely different desire creeps up to you now, and while you wonder if you should tell him about it you feel yourself almost cumming from the thought alone as you sink down on him. “B-baby…” you whimper as you take him in with only a few smooth movements of your hips, and when you’re settled comfortably on top of him, he runs his hands up your sides.

“Go slow,” he orders, and though it’s hard for you to hold back, you do as told. Soon, you find yourself beginning to shake uncontrollably as you fuck yourself on his cock, while your boyfriend lets his palms wander your body. And even when eventually he finds your breasts, teasing your nipples through the white fabric, it’s just not enough to give you that sweet release.

“H-how much longer…” you ask, eyes squeezed shut. “W-wanna cum…”

“Not yet, dear,” he whispers, torturing you just a little more. “Slow down,” he reminds you as your pace gets messed up, and when you don’t manage to fall back into your earlier rhythm, he slowly lets one hand wander south on your backside. You whimper when you feel his palm against your ass, arching your back for him, and again, you feel tempted to ask for him to spank you. But he speaks up before the right words can form on your tongue.

“But…” There’s a strain in his voice, telling you that he’s holding back too, and instead of the pain you were hoping for, he’s now pinching your nipple between his fingers, making you let out a broken moan. He then guides both of his hands back to your hips, steadying your rhythm, and as he does he hisses at the pleasure. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to plan surprises like this,” he comments, and then finally you can feel him pressing his thumb against your clit. You whine when he begins drawing circles onto the sensitive bud through the fabric of your dress, and once again your hips begin to stutter - just that this time he doesn’t correct your pace, but instead you can feel him thrusting up to meet you halfways.

“Ahh…” An uncontrolled sound falls from your lips, before you answer, already feeling your high building up inside your stomach. “M-me neither… I don’t think… I would’ve… d-done this before…” You somehow manage to get out what you’re trying to say, and in your own chase for your high you don’t immediately notice how your words seem to affect your partner.

“Really…?” he mutters through gritted teeth and his free hand finds its way up your back and into your hair. Tugging on the strands, he makes you lean your head back, and the moment you can feel him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, your orgasm overwhelms you. You cry out, feeling your whole body shaking as you cum around his cock, pleasure mixing in with the pain from him biting down even harder as he too comes undone underneath you. 

He lets you catch your breath for a while, brushing his lips against the bite mark and then his fingertips too.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, and you shake your head, leaning in to gently bump your forehead against his.

“It’s fine…” you assure him. “I think… I like the pain.” You feel him slipping out of you as you move back, and Jongho has his hands back on your sides when you try to get up. With a dangerous look in his eyes, he keeps you from moving too far away, muttering,

“I’m not done with you yet, dear.” He makes you sit back down in his lap, and once your hands are holding onto his shoulders, his palms start roaming your body again. “You look way too beautiful like this… it’d be a waste to stop already.” You furrow your eyebrows as he pulls on the dress, and you watch as the fabric exposes more of your chest. Pulling it down enough until both your breasts are uncovered, you mewl at the way he wraps his lips around your left nipple, while he takes your right side into his hand. Deep moans escape him, mixing in with your more high-pitched ones, and soon enough you melt against his touch and you begin rolling your hips on top of him again. 

“F-feels good…” you mutter and when he releases you for a moment, you draw a long sigh from his lips when you comb your fingers through his short hair and his eyelids flutter shut.

“This won’t do,” he says when his gaze finds your face. Using his strength, he flips you onto your back, making you lie down flat on the sofa, and when he hovers above you, he goes right back to scattering little bites all over your chest. “You’re so fucking perfect…” he mutters, and the praise makes your heart skip a beat. You can tell he’s getting impatient by the way he’s working his way down your body restlessly, and you hold your breath when he finally has his head between your legs, reaching for your thighs to throw them over his shoulders, all while never breaking eye contact with you.

“Need more of you…” Jongho mutters, kissing a trail down the inside of your thigh. “Need to ruin you.” A shaky moan leaves you when you feel his tongue pressing against your folds, and he licks up a stripe. Having its tip circling your clit skillfully, he brings a finger up to your entrance, and using your slick as well as his own cum leaking out of you as lube, he pushes up inside of you effortlessly. You clench around him immediately, your toes curling at the sensation of him slowly thrusting that one digit in and out of you.

“M-more…” you beg, and you can see him smirk in between your legs. Contrary to what you’re asking for, he pulls out his finger and instead slides in his tongue, moaning as his and your taste mix in his mouth, and the vibrations of his voice make you shudder. You reach down to bury your fingers in his hair and he lets you, closing his eyes as he savours your taste before pulling out and moving back to your clit. He wraps his lips around the small bud, and with your last orgasm not having been so long ago, even him gently sucking on it is turning you into a whining mess in no time. And then he moans at your taste again, because he knows hearing him enjoying this drives you crazy, and you know that at this rate there’s a possibility he’ll make you cum again just from this.

“J-jongho…” you manage to whimper his name, and as he hums against your cunt in response, you clench around nothing. He places one of his palms onto the underside of your thigh, and as if that was the sign you needed to get the gears up in your head moving, you blurt out, “Spank me…” He looks up, a cocky smirk on his face as he rubs his hand against your thigh now.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about the entire time?” he asks, his demeanor changing ever so slightly and his now piercing stare makes you gulp. You’re not sure if he really knew what was going on all along, or if it only just clicked now that you said it, but either way you nod. “You really meant it when you said you like the pain, hm?” He comes back up to attach his lips to your neck, and when he rolls his hips against yours once, you can feel that he got hard again. The second his teeth graze your skin, you throw your head back instinctively, and you let out a shaky moan, only fuelling his need to tease. He lets his palm draw circles on the underside of your thigh, until eventually his fingers wander to your aching cunt and he slips inside two of them.

“Fuck…” you mewl at the feeling of his digits filling you up, and you immediately buck your hips into his hand.

“So needy…” he comments, curling his fingers inside of you and having them graze your g-spot with every repetition. You keep meeting him halfway, unable to stop the motion of your hips, like your body is taking over control and its only purpose is to chase your next high. “And you’re gonna cum again just from the thought, huh?” You whine at his words, and even more so when he angles his hand so that your clit grazes his palm with every time he repeats his motions. “Did you want it that badly? Me spanking you?”

“D-didn’t know how to bring it up…” you whine in between, and he leans in to press a kiss onto your exposed chest.

“You did well telling me,” he praises you, fingering you right towards your next high.

“‘M gonna cum… I’m gonna-” You clench around his fingers as a string of moans and curses falls from your lips and your high shakes you and Jongho quickly presses his thumb against your clit, continuing to tend to the bundle of nerves even as you’re coming down from your high. Writhing underneath him as the overstimulation builds up, you can see him watching intently as you manage to escape his touch, and when his fingers slip out of you, his lips part slightly. There’s a new expression on his face, one that you’ve never seen before, but only a moment later the tension breaks when he sits up, rubbing his palms along your thighs that are still shaking in soothing motions.

“Can you take one more?” he asks as he looks down at you, and you nod. “Then come here.” He gets up and he supports your weight as you do the same. Never taking his eyes off of you as if he was closely monitoring your condition, he leads you over to the dinner table, and when you’re standing right in front of it, he says, “Take off your dress, love.” He helps you out of it, and as you’re trying to turn around to look at him, he keeps you from it. “That’s not what we’re doing now.” He runs his fingertips up your back, and when his hand is placed between your shoulder blades, you can hear his voice again.

“Bend over.” He speaks the words slowly, his tone low, and it makes you suck in a sharp breath. You do as told, and when the hand on your back travels to your behind, it sparks excitement deep inside you. One soothing circle against your ass, he takes his hand away, and then he orders, “Count down from three.” You hesitate, but he grants you those few seconds to think about it, not wanting to push you, and so eventually you speak,

“Three… two… o-one-!” The last number turning into a broken moan when his hand flies to the spot he has caressed just a few moments ago, you feel pain and pleasure surging through your veins at once.

“How was that?” your partner asks, dominance radiating off his voice.

“G-green…” you answer.

“That’s my good girl…” he praises you, and you feel your stomach doing a flip at his words.

“W-wanna be your good girl…” you sputter as you feel your mind going empty, and you arch your back for him prettily. He hums at your reply, or maybe at the state you can feel yourself slipping into, and he says,

“One more?”

“Y-yeah…” you say, and you can hear him letting out a short laugh behind you. 

“Then count down.” This time you don’t waste a single second.

“Three… two-” His palm meets your ass with a smacking sound too early this time, and it makes you mewl pathetically once again. As if to apologize, he immediately rubs a few more soothing circles onto the spot, and you can hear him mutter,

“You’re so fucking cute.” And then, when he places both hands on your hips, you can feel the tip of his cock grazing your folds, and the realization that he too got rock hard from this only makes your sanity slip yet a little further away from you. 

“Hmmm f-fuck me…” you babble, and once again you can hear him letting out an amused sound.

“You’re so far gone from just this, huh…? And I was gonna fuck you stupid over this table, but you are already stupid.” You whine at his words, nodding, and when you feel him sliding inside of you with ease, there’s nothing you can do but mewl at the feeling.

“Give me a color, dear,” he says, holding still for a moment.

“G-green…” you manage to say. “V-very… fucking… gr-” Hearing it once is all the confirmation he needed, because before you can say it a second time, he’s already starting to thrust. He starts slow, but powerful, and all you can do is let him fuck you as you feel yourself going limp under the impact. Skin slapping against skin, he picks up in pace gradually - maybe faster than he wants to, because the grunts coming from behind you make it apparent that neither of you are going to last long this time. 

“Fuck… fuck…” He spits out one curse after the other, his voice strained, and when he can feel you clenching around him as you keep whining at his relentless pace, he reaches down to tend to your clit. Contrary to most times when he pleases you, his motions are anything but precise now, and yet it’s more than enough to get you to cum again. Tears well up in your eyes as you feel your high building up deep inside, and when only seconds later you come undone with him still fucking you hard, you find yourself clawing at the tabletop from the overwhelming pleasure. The blissful afterglow of the orgasm mixes in with the building overstimulation as his hips keep slamming into you, but you do your best to hold still for him through desperate whines and unintelligible cries.

“Shit, Y/N…” he groans your name as you can feel him releasing inside of you, and when he finally comes to a halt you shudder. Pulling out of you carefully, he supports himself on the table with his hands on either side of you for a while, allowing himself to recover, before you feel one of his palms gently meeting the small of your back, and he starts moving it up and down all across your back in soothing motions.

“You did so well, baby…” he breathes, and when he notices you attempting to stand up straight, he’s right there to hold you up. With your legs shaking, he lets you rest against his chest for a short while, but eventually figures it’d be better for you to sit down, so he leads you over to the couch where you can let your exhausted body rest. He disappears in the kitchen for a short while, and sure enough he returns with some water and a few paper towels to clean yourselves up. Making sure you drink a good amount of fluid, he sits down next to you, putting his arm around your frame and letting you snuggle up to him closely.

“That was amazing,” you mutter as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, and you leave a few kisses all around the mole on his throat, before also brushing your lips against his cheek. Though your limbs ache from the overexertion on your body, you lift your arm to run your fingers through his hair, and while you’re massaging his scalp you can feel him relaxing against your figure too. He looks at your face, and he lets himself trace your features with his gaze for a short while, before he wraps his other arm around you too, and he pulls you in for a lingering kiss on your forehead. 

“You were amazing too,” he mutters as his lips move against your skin while he talks, before he allows you to rest like this for just a while longer.

You finish the last bite of the takeout meal you brought home for the both of you when you lean back in your seat and throw your hands up in the air to stretch thoroughly. 

“Nothing like a good meal after a long day,” you groan, and your boyfriend agrees.

“Right,” he mutters, watching you with a smile before he gets up, starting to stack the dishes on the table so he could carry them to the kitchen all at once. You thank him as you watch him walk off with his hands full, and when he comes back you call out to him.

“Actually…” you start, and you see him raising his eyebrows at you. “Can we talk about something?”

“Sure,” Jongho replies, getting back into his seat across the table. You look around his apartment that you’ve gotten so used to over time, and after hesitating for a bit because of the uneasy feeling building in your stomach, you speak up.

“So… what if we moved in together?” 

“Huh?” your partner lets out a surprised noise before he bursts out laughing. Meanwhile you’re beyond confused, to say the least.

“Is it funny…?” you ask, and as he reaches for your hands resting on the table, he answers, the amused expression still on his face.

“No, I mean-... you’ve been practically living here for the past months,” he explains, and as you understand what he’s trying to say, the tension leaves your shoulders at once.

“Ahh… you’re right,” you let out a short laugh too now, before pulling one of your hands out of his hold to grasp at your chest instead. “I thought you’d say no.”

“No, no!” Jongho refutes immediately and he gets up, walking around the table to come to a halt right beside you, wrapping his arms around your figure. He looks down, combing his fingers through your hair as he becomes serious, and when you return his gaze he says, “I’d like it if we moved in together. Officially, that is.” You smile, and then you wrap your arms around his waist and you bury your face in his stomach. 

“That’s nice,” you mutter, and you stay like this for a while, having him gently stroking your hair, and once he peels himself away from you, you feel like the hug along with the food you just had made you feel a lot sleepier than you were just before. Your boyfriend cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing against your cheek as he looks at you with both adoration and a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Finally I can make you pay rent,” he adds, and you jump up immediately to complain. You form your hands into fists and playfully hit his arm, making him laugh once again as he turns away to shield his upper body, as if he needed to protect himself from your attack. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding…” he says, and now you’re the one grinning.

“Oh, you’re letting me live here for free?” you reckon, and his amused expression makes way for a slightly offended one.

“I’ve been letting you live here for free for weeks!” he retorts, and this time you’re the one laughing as you throw yourself at him, engulfing him in a tight hug. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 3 | Ethan Landry x camgirl!Reader

Kinktober day 3: sextape (?)

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, fingering (f receiving), cum tasting,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I’m not shy…okay maybe I am a little, but I just really don’t want anyone to recognize me. What if one of my professors sees me? That would be mortifying. I would have to change college and—’’ 

‘’Why would any of your professors watch my live?’’ you interrupted with disgust. 

There was a high chance that people you’ve crossed in the subway — or even at school — had seen your ass online, but you didn’t like to think about that. 

Ethan shrugged. ‘’A lot of people watch your live. You never know.’’ His eyes widened, another realization hitting him. ‘’Oh god, what if my dad watches? I’m gonna throw up.’’

‘’Make it two.’’ 

The thought of your boyfriend’s dad sitting behind his computer and jerking off to one of your lives was making you sick to your stomach. A few months ago, Ethan’s brother subscribed to your Only Fans and you had been so quick to block him. 

‘’Maybe we can figure out a way to hide your face? I could’ve blurred it if it had been a video, but you can’t do that on live…’’ 

Although you really wanted him to get on the live with you, you respected Ethan’s decision to not show his face on camera. Not everyone was comfortable to be seen that way online, and it was okay. 

‘’I have an idea!’’ 

You fished around your closet to find the Halloween mask you were looking for. You had used it last Halloween for some pictures and never wore it again. It should be somewhere with the bunny ears and matching tail.

‘’How do I look?’’ Ethan asked, his face covered by a Stab mask. 

You wouldn’t say psychopaths and killers were a turn on. You wouldn’t want Michael Myers to stick it in you, but you wouldn’t mind Billy Loomis or J.D. from Heathers railing you with their hand around your neck. 

‘’Fucking hot,’’ you replied bluntly, feeling an ache between your legs. 

Once your set up was angled to see a wider angle, you changed into a cute lingerie set and sat in front of the webcam, ready to start your live. There were already people in the chat waiting for you to log in, impatient to see the ‘surprise’ you told them about. They probably think it’s a new toy or that you’re gonna open up one-on-one videos again. 

The chat greeted you excitedly the moment you appeared on the screen, complimenting you on the baby blue bra and panty. It was Ethan’s favorite, so you wore it to get him more comfortable on camera. There were little frills on the shoulders of the bra and the sides of the panties, giving it a more juvenile and girly look. 

You were sitting cross legged on your bed while Ethan stood in the corner of your room, offscreen. ‘’Hi, everyone.’’ You smiled, waving at the camera. ‘’There’s so many of you today,’’ you said with amazement, seeing the viewers count go up every two seconds. ‘’Which is a good thing because I have a surprise for you.’’ You motionned for Ethan to come and he put on his ghostface mask, hiding his identity, and joined you on the bed, already shirtless. ‘’He’s a bit camera shy, so don’t be mean to him.’’ 

You kissed Ethan’s shoulder and the chat went wild with requests and tips for you and Ethan to do specific things. Some wanted you to choke on his cock or rail you until there’s tears running down your face, and there were also weird ones who were asking Ethan to sucking your toes. You held back a grimace. 

‘’Say ‘hi’ to our viewers, babe,’’ you told Ethan. 

‘’H-hi.’’ He tried his best to maintain composure, but his nervousness was evident in the way his voice trembled as he greeted the viewers.  

‘’My boyfriend said I’ve been bratty today,’’ you said to your viewers, running your hands over your thighs to make the tips increase. 

Ehtan sat still beside you, watching as you continued to interact with your viewers. He read through the requests as they poured in, his eyes widening behind the mask when coming across very explicit demands. 

‘’He said I needed to be punished for it. Do you think he is right?’’ 

On the screen, the chat exploded with enthusiastic responses, emojis, and various explicit comments. It seemed like your viewers were eager to see how this scenario would unfold. 

Big-cock001: Tie her up and don’t let her cum. Naughty girls don’t get to cum😈

cumfordaddy: Destroy her pussy until she cries and begs

‘’I think,’’ Ethan started, his voice, though still shaky, gaining a hint of confidence while he ran his finger along your jawline and down your neck. ‘’That you should get punished.’’ His hand went further down, following an invisible line down your breasts and stopping at the thin band of your panties. ‘’But first, brats don’t get to wear panties. Brats keep their pretty pussies free and open for business.’’ With a swift motion, Ethan pulled your panties down in one smooth tug, exposing your bare mound to the camera. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he pushed you down onto the mattress. You weren't entirely sure where he was going with this, but the continuous ‘ding’ of tips flooding in was a clear indication that your viewers were thoroughly enjoying the show.

Ethan finished taking off your panties and tied them around his wrist like a bracelet. ‘’Now, show me that pretty pussy,’’ he instructed, parting your legs gently, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs as he did so. 

You looked up at Ethan, figuring where his eyes were through the mask, and grinned, feeling a wave of excitement wash over you. ‘’Is my pussy pretty enough for you, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you cooed playfully, flashing your best doe eyes.

Blood rushed down Ethan’s dick immediately, turned on by your words. He reached down to palm it through his boxers, barely concealed beneath the gray garment, and groaned as he felt himself throb with need. He wanted to tear the mask off and get his mouth on you, but that would reveal his identity. 

So he settled for spreading your folds with gentle precision, watching you glisten with arousal. ‘’So fucking pretty,’’ Ethan confirmed. He collected some of your arousal on his finger and brought it to your lips, waiting for you to taste yourself. 

The chat was blowing up on your laptop, more tips incoming. 

You hummed explicitly around his finger, making a show. 

Ethan's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you taste your own arousal. If possible, he got even harder. 

You reached between your legs to do the same, to make him taste you, but before you could reach low enough, Ethan grabbed your wrist and held it above your head. ‘’No touching. Just me’’

—

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[captain-ross-poldark]

Red Magazine October 2024

I here’s a moment in Rivals, the new television adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s bestselling novel, when Aidan Turner’s character recites WB Yeats’ famous poem When You Are Old. It’s a moment of peak Irishness, and, for Turner, who has long cherished a yearning to play a literary Irish character, the scene was joyous. ‘I loved it!’ he exclaims over Zoom, grin wide across his face. ‘I think I was enjoying it way too much. I could smell the classroom again when I started reading that. I was going, “Oh, my god, I remember all of these poems!”’

Turner is trying hard right now not to use the word ‘fun’ when describing Rivals, but he tells me that it’s proving rather impossible. ‘It was the most fun I think I’ve ever had on a production,’ he declares. Watching the show, I can’t say that I doubt him for a second. Set in the fictional upper-class county of Rutshire, Disney’s raunchy new series delves into the cut-throat world of independent television in 1986, in which a long-simmering rivalry between Lord Tony Baddingham (David Tennant), controller of Corinium Television, and notorious womaniser Rupert Campbell-Black (Alex Hassell) is threatening to boil over. Against a backdrop of sex, scandals and scheming, Irishman Declan O’Hara (Turner), a talented talkshow star who is wooed to the countryside to join Corinium, vows to get his revenge.

‘I THINK WORKING ON RIVALS WAS THE MOST FUN I’VE EVER HAD ON A PRODUCTION’ 

‘It happens once in a while when all the stars align,’ enthuses Turner, ‘and you get a bunch of really great actors who want to work with each other, want to work on this material and who want to be in this particular place at this particular time.’ Reading the script, he could immediately understand O’Hara’s sense of alienation as he steps into a quintessentially British world obsessed with class. ‘Because I’m Irish, I didn’t have to try too hard to put those glasses on,’ he explains. ‘It seems to me very much like he is the outsider. He doesn't really like the people or what they’re trying to achieve. He sort of has a bohemian sensibility. He’s a literate person, a more serious person. He’s a journalist. He likes things black and white, straight and clear, and this world I think he finds a bit gross.’

As you’d expect from a Jilly Cooper adaptation, Rivals is a rollickingly entertaining romp, full to the brim with helicopters, horse riding, lavish parties and romantic entanglements. But the show has political shades, too, examining questions of race, gender, class and sexual liberation through a 2020s lens. ‘I think it feels really truthful and honest,’ Turner says with sincerity. ‘I think we’re showing a world that, I think in some ways, still does exist, but very much existed in a different way back then. And I think we show it in a kind of no-frills approach to it.’ With the exception of high-powered executive Cameron Cook (Nafessa Williams), Turner notes that the majority of the women in the show don’t hold positions of power. ‘We show the hypocrisy and the bigotry in that,’ he adds passionately. ‘It’s not just like, “Here’s what it was like, let’s move on,” you know? It’s not just a museum piece. I think we’re showing how wrong that was, how difficult that was, and I think how we’ve made improvements in the years gone by.’

He suspects that some viewers won’t expect that commentary from a show like Rivals. ‘They may think it’s fluffy, or it’s just a comedy,’ he says. ‘I mean, it’s very much not. I don’t think you get the calibre of actors involved in the show if it was just that, either.’ The cast became like a family unit, he says, and for actors of a similar age to himself, some of whom are parents, filming the show in the Cotswolds offered a unique opportunity to bond. ‘You know, we’re getting out of London for a week or two, and we’re getting to hang out in Bristol and have cocktails at night and talk about the show and do all these things,’ he explains. ‘We quickly realised that this is quite special, and we’re going to lean right into it.’ Did that involve getting into the party spirit, I ask? ‘I don’t want to start getting in trouble,’ he chuckles. ‘But there was a sprinkle of hedonism over the production, for sure. It makes the show better.’

If Rivals offered Turner a little escapism, it’s also further proof that as an actor, he can’t be neatly categorised. Since galloping onto our screens as the swashbuckling, scythe-swinging protagonist in Poldark, he’s resisted being pigeonholed as a romantic lead, winning plaudits playing a top coach accused of abuse in tennis drama Fifteen-Love, and a chilling clinical psychologist in crime thriller The Suspect. ‘It was nice to do a couple of shows that were in contemporary worlds, you know, wearing suits and jeans and shoes and carrying iPhones,’ he says modestly. ‘And not riding around in horses and carriages, or in a world of goblins and orcs or whatever. So yeah, it’s good to mix it up, but you never know what’s around the corner.’

Let it be known, though, that if the occasion calls for Turner to jump on a horse, he’s more than up to the task. As well as riding, he boasts an impressive range of talents, including being a champion ballroom dancer. What skills did he learn on the set of Rivals? ‘I can drink whiskey like nobody’s business,’ he laughs. That, and drive O’Hara’s yellow Mini. ‘That Mini was almost impossible to drive, and I’m pretty good at it now.’ He did also grow a statement moustache. ‘For the first time in my life as an actor, I felt a little bit sad to get rid of it,’ he says ruefully. ‘I had it for so long. We’ll see if it comes back’. 

He’s excited for Rivals to make its way out into the world. ‘We’re all just really happy and proud, he says. ‘You know, it’s the show that we set out to make, which is also a rare thing.’ That said, he’s not in a rush to find his next project. ‘Sometimes you also just need to step back for a while and not work all the time, and wait for the good thing to come along,’ he muses. ‘I’m a better person when I do the work that I really want to do.’ When we speak, he’s in Canada with his wife, Succession star Caitlin FitzGerald, who is filming, and his two-year-old son. They navigate who takes on the next project, he explains, by having an open dialogue. ‘I mean, our lives have changed a lot and not a lot at the same time, if you know what I mean. We’re still both working. We’re still both lucky that way. We can keep working and keep our family life together, and everything is just great and happy.’

‘I LOVE BEING AN ACTOR, BUT I THINK THERE’S ALSO SOME OTHER HATS THAT I CAN PUT ON’ 

Turner’s not at liberty to discuss his next project, but he’s very excited for it. ‘It’s a very different type of show than anything I’ve done before,’ he smiles. In the future, he envisages working more with friends and hopes to turn his hand to producing. ‘I love being an actor. But I think there’s also some other hats I can put on that I can be equally as good at, if not better.’ In the meantime, he says, his roles are only getting more interesting. ‘It’s the best thing!’ he exclaims. ‘I mean, I sort of knew it was gonna happen.’ With the benefit of life experience, he explains, his characters are naturally getting more layered. ‘I think that matters you know? I want to listen to a 41-year-old man, over a 21-year-old man. I just do,’ he says emphatically. ‘For me, that’s more interesting.’ 

Twenty years after breaking into the industry, he’s lost the ‘cacophony of nerves’ that came with trying to impress as a young actor. ‘I’ve learned that it’s okay to find the thing, or to not know the thing, to get on set and go, “Okay, I have no idea how we’re going to do this.”’ It’s been freeing, he says, learning to let go. ‘Now it’s fun and creative and it feels more relaxed, and then the work is better through all that, too. So I guess if I could say something to the younger actor, it would just be, breathe. Everything’s gonna be fine. You know the lines, you know the work. Just get in there and have fun. And don’t worry so much about the work itself. The work will happen. Just let you happen first.’ 

Rivals is streaming on Disney+ this autumn 

[billskeis]

heyyy how are youu? can you do 2009tom x reader fluff,where tom meets reader’s family for the first time,he meets her niece and nephew,also her brother and etc🥹

ᡣ𐭩 tom meeting your family

“come on tomm, it’s really cold..!” you exclaim to your boyfriend as your shivering in your spot at the front door of your parent’s house.

“wait babe i gotta grab the cake i bought,”

he slammed his car door to reveal a somewhat fancy paper bag that presumably carried the cake he was talking about.

“you bought cake? you’re so cute, they’ll definitely love you with or without it though,”

“i know—i just—first impressions y’know?”

you kiss him on the cheek to watch his face turn a rosy palette, knocking on the front door the both of you await for someone to let you in sooner than later.

as the door swung open, you were immediately met with your loving mom.

“hey baby—mwah—” as she kisses you on the cheek, “this must be tom! hello hii welcome to the fam it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“it’s great to finally meet you too..”

“call me mom!”

“o-okay..! i bought a cake, i hope it you’ll like it,”

“oh how kind of you sweetie, i’ll take that from you! come in come in you guys must be so cold,”

the two of you enter the house you once remembered to love so dearly before you moved out with tom. looking in his direction, you can see him smile ear to ear as his cheeks tint a nice pink.

he’s shy, and nervous, but secretly so happy over the fact that your mom already loves him.

as the two of you converse, you find that tom get’s along with everyone. he met your dad, loves him. your brother and tom both play the guitar, tom offering to even give one of his own to him to which your brother jumps in joy.

aunts and uncles and grandparents treat him as their own, pinching at his cheeks, spoon-feeding him, giving him immense amount of compliments, hugging him as if he were their own blood and the overall coddling of your 20 year old boyfriend.

however, it seems as though one particular individual isn’t so fond of him.

“who the heck is this!? and what’re you doing with y/n??” it appears to be a small boy, probably around the age six or seven, gap toothed and seems to be in a sour mood at the appearance of your boyfriend.

“sammy, this is tom! my boyfriend!”

his face contorts in disapproval, tom pouting to retaliate your nephew’s foul mood.

“no—i don’t like him..”

“hey! you don’t get to talk to my boyfriend like that..”

“tch, whatever.”

you click your tongue and decide to just go prepare and grab plates of food for tomorrow and yourself to eat.

you had to leave before you actually strangled the kid.

“i’ll be back baby i’m just gonna go grab us something to eat ‘kay?” tom nods as you kiss his cheek to leave him in the room with sam.

silence. absolute silence, as they both stood there staring at each other.

“do you love her?” sammy asks.

“i do love her.”

“what do you love about her?”

“everything. she’s my whole world to me, i was hoping to get along with her family, she says it means a lot to her that we do,”

sam twiddles his thumbs within his hands, had he made y/n upset? was he being immature?

one cannot help but feel protective over the aunty that cared for her since he was born.

“you like—really really—love her??”

“really really, sam,”

“ew don’t say my name, but i guess.. i guess i can get to know you,”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“but if you ever break y/n’s heart.. i’ll come for you,”

“alright big man, whatever you say,”

tom holds out a fist, sammy hesitates to reciprocate the gesture, with a big cheeky smile, the little boy punches tom’s arm and runs off to god knows where.

“ow..”

as tom rubs his arm to relieve himself of the pain, standing alone, he feels a tug on the jeans he calls pants, way too baggy for him to even touch his legs, but enough that he felt the sensation of pulling at the bottom of them.

he looks down, he spots a little girl, seemingly younger than sammy. in pink frills and two low pigtails, she looks up at tom with beady eyes.

“well hello there child,”

she doesn’t respond. not yet verbal enough to actually make out the words she would’ve wanted to say to him, if there were any at all.

letting go of the pant leg, she makes grabbing motions at tom. to his surprise, it seems as though stranger danger isn’t really a concept to her as it is for sammy.

picking her up in his arm, he carries your niece holding him up to his chest as she sit on his forearm comfortably.

he jumps her up and down in his arms to see her smile, also smiling on his own.

“why aren’t you cute??”

he coos, holding out a finger in front of her, for her to wrap the totality of her hand around his index finger.

tom could feel his heart melt at the sight of how adorable she was.

coming back, you hold two plates in both hands to witness the site of your boyfriend getting along with your niece.

“aren’t you two the sweetest?? seems like you’ve meet lily!”

“she’s so.. cute!”

the little girl cannot help but shy away, hiding her face in tom’s neck.

it doesn’t explicitly show, but it seems as though your niece has taken a very big liking to tom, she definitely thinks hes the cutest boy she’s ever seen.

“hey! don’t go stealing tom from me now, that’s my boyfriend,” you rush to put the plates full of food on the table to tickle at your niece.

she giggles and jolts in tom’s grasp as he attempts to securely hold onto her, lily wrapping her small arms around his neck.

you sulk and cross your arms, she won the battle, but you also cannot help but gawk at the sight of seeing tom hold your niece so lovingly.

“she stole my boyfriend from me,” you scowl as you playfully hit tom’s arm.

chuckling, tom cannot hide the wide grin plastered on to his face, smiling ever so brightly.

“jealous?”

“…yes”

“awww don’t be like that, you’ll have enough of me later,”

your mouth agape as he smirks at you, clearly intending something behind that, you feel anxious, but impatient.

you need to give him a child.