#not now honey mommy is busy

[teeshopstar]

In case of any one need this You can get easily Store Link :-

[crackbabycore]

why is my eating disorder acting up suddenly and can it please pause

[fushigurover]

being a web designer means working on a design all week and then the night before delivering you decide you hate it and start from scratch

[suiana]

I've been thinking about women lately so imagine yandere! sugar mommy 🤤🤤🤤

because i love ceoxpeasant, imagine you're some broke ass barista selling coffees in a tiny coffee shop that's on the brink of closing down. you're living from paycheck to paycheck, scrimping by and skipping meals just to pay the ever rising rent of this capitalist world you live in.

suddenly, you feel the trajectory of your life change when an obviously rich, gorgeous and... very well endowed lady walks into your establishment and gives you 100 dollars for a simple black coffee.

"um here's your change-"

"you can keep it darling."

you were stunned, obviously not knowing what to do other than to awkwardly keep the money back into the cash register as you turn around to make her coffee.

that was until she spoke up.

"you look pathetic. be my sugar baby."

"???"

you drop the coffee beans at her words, staring wide-eyed as she looks you up and down. her expensive suit fitted against her body like it was made just for her, the shining patek watch that glistened under the dim lighting of the store... more importantly, the stern gaze she had and the slight smirk as she leaned towards you.

you had never felt so... naked before. and she wasn't even doing anything other than moving her eyes and stance! wait, did she just call you pathetic?

"hahaha... um, funny joke-"

"i'll pay for all your rent and groceries if you become my pet."

"meow."

and that was how you found yourself leaving your old trashy job and life behind.

you found out that this lady was actually a successful business owner and was older than you were. just a little bit :3

your life had done a complete 360 and you were swimming in riches, going to expensive restaurants as you allowed yourself to be spoiled rotten by your beloved sugar mommy.

sure, some of your friends slowly started to distance themselves from you and you were confused because you did nothing to offend them...

but your sugar mommy told you not to worry about it. not when you had her.

so you listened. you didn't know what it was about her (her money) but you felt this strange urge to just listen to what she said. if she asked you to bark? you'd bark. if she asked you to crawl on all fours? you'd crawl on all fours.

until she made this ridiculous request.

"marry me."

did she actually love you? what? you thought this was just a mutually beneficial relationship you two had! like, you please her and she throws money and riches at you?? why is she asking for-

"hahaha... um, no?"

"funny way of saying yes, my love."

she stares ta you, eyes burning into you soul as you nervously shift in front of her.

gyatt damn what were you supposed to do? you couldn't disagree now could you? as much as you didn't want to marry her- wait what is she doing? why is she grabbing your hand and placing a pen-

"I've grown exceptionally fond of you, my dear. my heart belongs to you."

wait wait wait, what is she doing?! is that marriage documents?! stop stop-

"just the thought of seeing you with others brings me immense discomfort. so much so that i physically feel ill, darling."

her voice is like honey, yet her actions feel like claws digging into your skin as she forces your signature onto the paper.

"i am afraid i cannot let you go."

oh no, what have you gotten yourself into?

[lovelyscourge]

Having thoughts about a pretty boy sitting between my legs. His back resting against my chest as my fingertips gently trace his neck and jaw; my other hand is busy teasing his waistband, threatening to slide inside his boxers.

I can feel his cock hardening and hear his cute whimpers as he tumbles his head onto my shoulder, engulfed by bliss. You're so pretty, little dove.

Maybe he'll bite my neck a bit and plant hickeys here and there — he wants to hear me as well —. I want to press his neck, just slightly, then move my hand down to his nipple, rubbing it gently to send a jolt of pleasure through him.

I can feel his cock throbbing and twitching for me, straining against his underwear — already stained with his pre cum, he's so wet — and how putty he is in my hands. A pliable sweet thing.

You don't have to think right now, honey. Let mommy take care of you, shh.

Doesn't it feel good? The way my fingers touch your cock with just the right pressure? Stroking it as I push two fingers into your lovely mouth to muffle your moans and satiate your oral fixation.

You just have to be filled one way or another, don't you? Go on, darling, suck.

You've done everything so well, my pretty boy, Mhm, you. You're a very good boy.

Cum for me, little dove. <3

[1d1195]

Hummingbirds

~5.2k words

From me: Based on a song of the same name--you'll see the lyrics in a moment. You'll need to suspend your belief a bit. I'm not sure everything makes perfect sense, but. Some of this story takes place through emailing and I didn't have a good method for this. So bold will be Harry's emails. Pink writing will be hers.

Warnings: angst, fluff, anger honestly just fluffy. second chance love

Summary: Harry has been angry for a really really long time. Only one person ever made him confront his anger.

“Eli, baby, we have to go!”

Harry could hear her from outside. He smirked, sipping his tea while he waited for Buddy to do his business. The air was crisp just like October should be. Decorative spider webs lined the front porch and the flower bushes in front of it. He was utterly pleased with his life. So completely happy.

“Mommy! I can’t find my dinosaur sneakers!”

“I don’t know how to spell it,” Evie frowned. “I’m going to fail!”

“Just do your best and practice, my love. I believe in you,” she assured as she zipped her backpack up at the doorway and stuffed her feet into the slip-on sneakers by the door. They make me feel old, she told Harry. They’re the perfect shoes for a busy Mum, he assured her. And I think y’look hot wearing them.

“Eli, honey!” She called back. “They’re here by the front door!”

Harry couldn’t stop smiling. “How lucky am I, Buddy?” He asked shaking the leash slightly. The dog turned to him and then tugged him around the yard looking for the right spot; totally unaware or unaffected that Harry had the best life there was to live.

“I-M-P-E-R-U-T-I-V-E.”

“Close, baby girl,” she smiled encouragingly. “It’s an A, not U.”

She looked miserable as she stepped off the porch. Evie approached Harry while his wife bent to help Eli with his sneakers. “I’m going to fail, Daddy.”

He chuckled at the little nine-year-old. Crouched to her height twirling the leash tight around one hand. He straightened her little hair bow on the side of her head, pinning her hair back to one side. He kissed her forehead. “Mummy said y’were close. Y’did a great job. Y’jus’ have t’remember there’s an A,” he reminded her and then pinched her cheek gently. “Like the grade you’re going t’get, right?” He winked at her.

Evie’s sweet eyes lit up with new hope. She turned to the pretty woman at the door holding Eli’s hand to usher him quickly out of the house now that his shoes were securely on his feet. “Mommy! Did you hear what Daddy said to help me remember?”

She grinned so beautifully; it melted him. The center of his chest felt deliriously warm. It felt equivalent to being snuggled under a blanket with her, warm and close while it snowed outside their house. The kids drinking hot chocolate at the coffee table and a movie playing in the background.

It was unbelievable she was all his. “What did Daddy say, Evie?” Eli held onto her hand tight while he jumped from the second to last step of the porch while Evie explained the A she was going to get. “Well, I guess you inherited your smarts from Daddy, hmm?” Which was unequivocally a joke. She was a hundred times smarter than him. Or at least it felt that way. But he loved her so much for never making him feel less than. She was good at that. It was impossible to feel less than in her presence.

She was good at everything. Her job, being a wife, but perhaps his favorite thing, she was a tremendous mother. Something he knew she would be good at, but not to the extent he witnessed on a daily basis. Eli hurried to Harry and Buddy petting the dog’s head and giggling when he licked his face. Harry kissed the top of his head and gave his little body a squeeze. “What smarts?” Harry asked.

She rolled her eyes as she finally approached her family. “You’re plenty smart, baby,” she shook her head with a gentle smile. The two kids that looked like the perfect combination of them went to her car and climbed into their respective seats. Harry wrapped his free arm around her back and pulled her to his side. He kissed her temple, nosing along her hairline.

“Not as smart as m’beautiful wife,” he reminded her. She laughed.

“I love you.” She tilted her head up for a kiss which Harry never let her wait for.

“I love you,” he grinned into the kiss.

“Ew!” Eli called.

“Mommy, let’s go!” Evie was eager to get to school and ace her spelling test.

“Bye Daddy!” Eli shouted. She gave his cheek a final peck and she headed across the yard to take their kids to school. “See you at my soccer game!”

“Hey kitten?” He called.

“Yeah?” She asked over her shoulder.

“M’a lucky man t’have you,” he reminded her.

She shook her head, laughed. “Me too, baby. Luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

The second her door closed behind her a swarm of hummingbirds fluttered so loudly into the yard. Seemingly out of nowhere. The noise of their wings was unbelievable. A dull roar. It was hundreds of the little birds, and she paid no mind to them as she started her car. Buddy didn’t care about the intrusion either. Even the kids were indifferent. “Are y’seeing this?” He called out to her. He blinked curiously when she didn’t respond. “What’s with all the—”

*

I had a dream last night / we were married in that house you always talked about / you were rushing to get the kids to school / packing their lunches, reviewing their spelling words / it was hummingbirds

Harry’s heart was beating like he had just finished a workout. His skin felt clammy. The sheets were wrapped too tightly around his legs. He groaned as his alarm vibrated to the same hum of the birds in his dream. The music playing alongside the vibration made him grumpy. “What the fuck?” He whispered and smacked the song off. He wished he could go right back. Did Evie pass her test? Did Eli score a goal?

Did she still love him the way he dreamed about?

*

Dr. Hendren listened to Harry’s dream but very much already knew the ending. It was the same as all his dreams with the house and the girl that he had been hearing for ten years.

“Harry,” the doctor said gently as he watched Harry on his screen. “Do you know what hummingbirds symbolize?”

“No,” Harry was grumpy. He always was after a dream that was so real so lifelike. It wasn’t fair. He just wanted her back. Wanted to see her. Wanted to know.

“Healing.” Dr. Hendren was quiet while Harry processed that. He worked his jaw, swallowing, and flexing it as he tried to get the words to come out. His body felt tense. Like he was trapped inside a box that was too small. That didn’t seem right. He didn’t feel like he was healed. He was still frustrated most of the time. Work was a minor distraction, and the loneliness was crippling at times. The only reprieve was dreaming of that pretty girl he knew so many years ago.

Why did it have to be her? She didn’t deserve Harry and his bad attitude. She already suffered through it for two years at a time when life should have been fun, lovely, sweet. They were kids and Harry was an ass. He never even said he loved her back then.

“Don’t you think,” Dr. Hendren continued quietly, and Harry knew what he was going to say. “You’ve been quiet long enough about what you want?” He shrugged. “Harry,” he tutted.

“I wasn’t a good boyfriend.”

“You were a kid.”

“She deserved more.”

“Then tell her. Worst case scenario, she doesn’t want to talk to you and you’ll have some closure and you can stop dreaming about it.”

Harry remained silent, looking around his empty apartment. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright. I’ll reach out to her.”

“Harry,” Dr. Hendren said quietly. “Have you thought about the best-case scenario?”

He shook his head. Thatkind of hope could kill him. But he knew why the dreams were so powerful these days. Why they were so steady and quick.

Woke up bleeding from my mouth / I bit my tongue right through / well I broke the habit / I guess that I’d had it not saying the things I need to

The following morning, he searched his inbox from an email he hadn’t used in ten years and found the address he never thought he’d email again after he broke up with her way back when.

But Harry wasn’t twenty anymore. He was trying to move on. Trying to fix things that should have been fixed a long time ago. He sat on the couch, typed out seven different versions of the message and clicked send before he could overthink it any longer. He slapped the computer shut and rubbed his hands on his pants. He took a sip of the tea he made hoping to calm himself and told himself that it was okay if she didn’t answer.

Hey. Long time. Not sure if you use this email. I know it’s been a long while. Hope you’re well. ... I’ve been thinking of you. And truthfully, I had a pretty realistic dream that you were in the other night. Nothing weird. Just my old self and back then and... I don’t know. ... How are you?

If she was working, she might just be getting settled. Or maybe out with a friend. Running errands. He refrained from imagining a little family that was waiting on her for dinner but reminded himself anyway that there were a million reasons she—

His phone lit up on the table beside the computer and his heart skipped a beat.

Harry Styles. As I live and breathe :) I’m well! How are you?

That little smiley face made his heart ache with adoration for her. He could picture her pretty face smiling. But she answered.

Good. Yeah. I… I’ve been going to therapy regularly. Finally had to and... my doctor and I have discussed a lot of things. You were one of them. I just... wanted to chat with you. I’m sorry, this is so out of the blue and weird.

No! Not at all, Harry. I’m glad you reached out. It’s really nice to hear from you. Therapy? That’s amazing! Do you like it?

I’m a work in progress.

Aren’t we all? :)

He smiled feeling relieved. Even just reading words on a screen made him feel at ease. He could practically hear her sweet, encouraging voice.

What are you up to? Do you live in state still?

Yes! I actually just moved down the road from the college. I’m a guidance counselor at the local high school.

That’s lovely. I’m not surprised you accomplished your goals. Your students are lucky to have you. Are you doing okay? It has to be draining.

A lot of the time yeah. But it’s rewarding as hell. You know I love kids, and I love being able to help.

Harry wondered if it was possible to love her more than he ever had before.

There’s a shadow on my shoulder / always whispers in my ear / that I’m so angry all of the time / I should be alone another year / I didn’t say it how you needed it / must have written it down a thousand times / all the things I would scream at the top of my lungs / if I wasn’t so busy saying I’m fine.

Harry had a habit of not saying what he was feeling. He bottled so much of it up and hid it from the rest of the world. Even people he loved. When he was dating her back in college, he kept a lot hidden and exploded when she asked him simple questions about himself. Trying to understand him and why he was angry all the time. Her willingness to look past it, try and help, and just continue to be kind to him made him angry too. It was constant, draining. It was like he couldn’t help himself.

There was a tiny voice in his head that told him he was too angry for her. She deserved someone lovely and sweet. Someone who would talk to her and tell her things. Be the person she deserved. Because despite everything, Harry loved love. It was nearly impossible for him to show it back then. But he did. He wanted to love her the way she needed.

But he was so busy being angry and bottling his emotions he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t love her the right way.

It was so unfair to her and looking back on it made him feel like a proper ass.

So, he was grateful for the email communication. He couldn’t imagine having this conversation with her about all this in person. They chatted for days. Catching up on things, reminiscing. Their email chain was up to 100 something messages. Some messages were long. Harry chatted about his family and she about hers. There were updates on work. On friends they still spoke to and no longer did. The conversation continued over the course of a little under a week.

But the most shocking details came from her.

I mentioned I moved... my ex-fiancé broke off our engagement. Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s actually a relief in hindsight. Something I’ve been trying to figure through. It’s why I know that anything you feel you did wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it was. There’s far worse relationship enders than a little bit of anger.

Jesus, I’m so sorry, kitten.

Well, isn’t that a sweet name for sore eyes :) Don’t be sorry. It’s good. I have this cute apartment to myself and it’s for the best it happened now before there were too many variables to consider...like kids or a house or something, you know? I’m definitely sad. But he wasn’t the one for me at the end of the day.

Sorry for dumping all that on you. It’s not really fair given our past. I think a lot of my friends disagree with my choice on this to let him go so it’s nice to just tell someone non-judgmental.

Harry felt angry the way he used to. The way that made him want to scream and he felt the desperate need to message Dr. Hendren because he felt out of his depth. All he said was sorry. How could she feel he was non-judgmental. He was judgmental. He was judging the fuck out of the piece of shit that broke her heart and made her sad.

But he was no better.

The man is an idiot to lose you. I know from experience.

:) I have to head to bed, there’s a big pep rally tomorrow at school so I have to have my brain ready for chaos. Sleep well Harry.

Good night, kitten.

He reread those messages over and over and right before he was going to fall asleep, his phone lit up with one more message.

You’re not an idiot by the way. He might be, but you, Harry Styles are not.

So of course, he dreamed of Evie, Eli, and the sweet girl at the other end of his emails that night.

And hummingbirds.

Thousands of hummingbirds.

*

Most of their messages were short.

I’ve been going to therapy for three years now.

That’s wonderful, Harry. Really. Do you like it?

Yeah...it’s hard.

:( Yeah... It really is. Do you like your therapist?

Yeah. I’ve had him the whole time.

Yeah? That’s good. I’m... proud of you. I don’t want to be weird about it, but I know you were angry. Really angry. It wasn’t good. You didn’t deserve that. I’m glad you have someone to help you work through it.

...You were so nice to me. When you shouldn’t have been. I didn’t treat you right.

You were wonderful, Harry. We were practically kids. If our relationship had any faults, it was because we were too young. I don’t regret a second of time being with you.

His heart skipped a beat. He felt that frustration from back when they were young, and she was so understanding but it didn’t make him grumpy or feel inadequate. All he felt was a sense of belonging. Something he probably would have felt back then if he could have gotten out of his own way. She was willing to look past it then as she was now.

You’re much too forgiving. He wrote. Because old habits die hard.

You weren’t fine, Harry. You didn’t know. We didn’t know what we were dealing with at that age.

Harry hadn’t a clue what he was dealing with. Did he even know now?

Can... can I give you something?

Give me something?

Yes. I... I can bring it to your apartment or to school or we can meet, I just... I’ve been trying to let it go but I think... I think my dream was reminding me that... there’s more to you. More I need to do for you.

Sure, if you think it will give you closure.

God, Harry wanted anything but closure.

Just to clarify: I don’t think you owe me anything.

I kept a lot hidden from you. I held back and it wasn’t fair. All you wanted was to love me and I wouldn’t let you.

It’s a vulnerable thing, Harry. To be loved. You didn’t do anything wrong. We were just young.

But... you knew I wasn’t fine, and you tried and... I just wasn’t fair to you.

You were fine, Harry. I promise. Bring me whatever it is that you need to give me to make you believe you did what you could with what you had.

*

Her apartment had a wreath on the door. It was beautiful with an array of burnt orange and red flowers and green vines. The perfect fall wreath. Beside the door were three pumpkins of different sizes. If he didn’t have her address, he almost thought he would know it was her place. He looked at the mat in front of the door that said welcome, and he wondered if there was any other place where someone actually meant it.

Swallowing, he took a deep breath and knocked. After a minute, the door was out of the way.

At 18, Harry thought she was beautiful. The most beautiful girl he had ever met. During the time they dated, he thought she got more beautiful every second. Apparently, he was right because the woman before him somehow got exponentially more beautiful. Her smile was so inviting, so warm. Like he was seeing an old friend. “Hey Harry,” her voice was sweet. Not an ounce of distrust, frustration, nothing. Their breakup was ten years ago. Not a degree of anger was left.

Harry wasn’t angry either. Not anymore. But if she had broken up with him and he hadn’t done all this work to better himself, he would have been. He didn’t know how she could be so sweet after all she went through.

“Hi,” he swallowed. “I don’t want t’keep you. S’really nice t’see you,” his dream didn’t do her justice. Sure, she was beautiful especially with their imaginary kids. Simply stunning. But this was more. This was the beautiful angel he loved so much even when she wasn’t his to love.

“You’re not keeping me; do you want to come in?” She shifted to open the door wider. “I can make some tea. Or we can order pizza?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I jus’ want t’give y’this,” he handed her the shoe box.

She opened the lid. “Well, you know I won’t say no to shoes,” she smirked.

As much as he wanted to laugh at her joke, he felt like he made a mistake. The box was out of his hands. Not because of what was in there but because of the fear of rejection and being so vulnerable. Feelings of inadequacy were currently circulating through his bloodstream. “Um... s’not—”

“What is this?” She asked, tilting her head. He swallowed, pinched his lower lip between his fingers and took a deep breath.

“S’letters.”

“Letters?”

“I wrote t’you.”

“Me?”

He took a deep breath. “M’sure y’know m’not good at saying what m’feeling.”

She replaced the lid, leaning against the frame. “I feel like I’m a little lost here, Harry.”

He nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget or reach back out to take it from her. His mouth felt dry. He wished he had taken her offer for a glass of water now.  “I know y’said y’thought we were fine. But m’not happy with how I treated you. Y’were an angel. The perfect girlfriend and I treated y’unfairly a lot. I guess I’ve really held onto that and some of those letters are old but when I hit low points I thought ‘bout what y’said back then. How I wasn’t on m’own. I was allowed t’be angry. But I had t’let people in. All that. I wrote t’you a lot over the years. M’therapist said it was actually one of the smartest things I’ve done on m’own,” he chuckled. “I want you t’read them. When y’have time. I guess. I don’t know,” he cleared his throat. “This is really scary,” he admitted.

“Okay,” she nodded encouragingly and reached out to his forearm. She squeezed it reassuringly. It was only a touch on his arm, and he felt so good feeling it. He knew it was her training kicking in. Like a broken, beaten student at her office door. “I can do that,” she assured him. “Do you want me to text you about each one? Or just a summary of all of them? Or do you want me to not say anything?”

He looked at his feet. “Fuck...” he whispered to himself. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she smiled. “I’ll start reading tonight and I’ll decide in the moment. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

He nodded, looked at his feet. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“S’a lot.”

“I enjoy reading, Harry,” she grinned and moved her hand to his upper arm and soothingly rubbed up and down. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Of course he did. There was no one else he really did. He nodded, feeling nauseous but still lighter. “I’m gonna go now,” he swallowed.

“I’ll email you,” she assured him with a smile and headed inside.

*

Like it grows old real fast / how much you can love and not get it back / were we too attached? / It’s a shame how often goodbyes last / I thought we were better than that / I thought I was stronger at last.

The knock on the door was hurried, eager. Insistent on being heard.

At first, he felt frozen in the kitchen cleaning up the dinner he made himself and placing the dirty dishes in the sink. Maybe he imagined the knock. Maybe he was just dreaming again. Plus, she said she would email right? This wasn’t something to feel nervous about.

But the flutter of knocking continued. He hurried from his frozen position as the rapid taps hit the wood. He knew. His gut telling him exactly who was on the other side of that door. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed before pulling it out of the way.

“You bought me the house?!” She shrieked.

Harry dipped his head to avoid her eyes. “Yes.”

“Harry Styles, what the fuck?!”

He felt sick. “You hate it?”

Her eyes were red, glossy. Not what he expected at all. But why wasn’t it? This wasn’t normal. After a breakup of her own where she was sure she was going to marry the guy. Harry appeared out of nowhere. Telling her that he had a dream about her, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

She covered her mouth and shook her head. “Harry,” she croaked.

“I’m—"

“You can’t buy me a house! We’re not even... Harry. This is insane! You have to see that!”

He shrugged. “I guess... but... I don’t know, kitten. I think about you all the time. I see this house in my sleep. I see our life in m’dreams every night.”

She was wearing only socks. Like she didn’t even have time to put on shoes. She held the paper in her hand wrinkled like she had read it hundreds of times already even though he had only given it to her the night before and he just knew which one was in her hands. She cleared her throat and read the date from ten years ago before she read the remainder of the letter.

To the resident(s) of 1278 Chestnut Street

My name is Harry Styles, and I am a college student in town. My girlfriend and I walk by your lovely home every day when we head to our favorite coffee shop after class. We love your home. Or I should say, my girlfriend LOVES your home. She claims it’s her dream home. The porch, the yard, the location... everything. She even loves your driveway. Every bit of your house is part of this fantastic dream she has of the life she wants in the future.

I don’t know if I’ll be with her forever. I am... working on myself. I’m not very good at all this relationship stuff. Especially when it comes to her. Quite frankly, I think she deserves way better than me. But on the off chance I am lucky enough to keep her in my life for as long as I would like, I want to make her dreams come true. She deserves that. She deserves every single one of her dreams to come true. She is the kind of girl that deserves every good thing that can possibly be provided for her.

If you ever find yourself selling, would you please consider emailing me first? Of course, if you have family that you plan on giving your home to, I understand. I can’t even promise I’ll be able to afford it, but I’ll want to know. If only to pass on the message to her somewhere down the line. She deserves the chance to have all her dreams come true.

I’m not sure where you are in life or if you have ever been in a relationship like this one. This girl is so special. She’s an angel. The kind of love that even a movie couldn’t show, or a book couldn’t write. I’m lucky to have her right now and I don’t know why she’s with me. I don’t know why I’m even sending this crazy letter other than I know I have to try. Even if she’s smart enough to leave me, I want her to know her dream home is available. Somewhere down the road. Even if we’re not on the same road anymore. That’s what she deserves.

I’m sorry to bother you like this. I hope you can understand what love can do to a guy in college with a girlfriend who is LEAGUES above him. Thank you for taking time to read this and I hope you continue to enjoy your lovely home.

Sincerely,

Harry

Her voice shook as she read it. “You sent that when we were in college.” He nodded, swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at the packet stapled together. “They emailed you,” she whispered. He nodded again.

“Dear Harry. We got your letter. When the time comes. We’ll be moving closer to our children. They’ve never expressed interest in our house the way you have. My wife and I met in college and believe me, I know a little something about finding the girl of your dreams. It’s nice you’re working on yourself. You deserve the life that fits this house too. We hope it’s with the girl that is leagues above you (although, we imagine she’d think differently). We’ll be in touch. The Andersons.”

Harry watched her flip the page as she made eye contact with him briefly before returning her gaze to the paper in front of her.

“Dear Harry. We hope life is treating you well. That you’re working on yourself, and your girlfriend is still around. If she’s not, we hope you’re not being too hard on yourself. We wanted to let you know we’ll soon be moving to a retirement community close to our son. We want to have you (and your girlfriend) over for dinner if you’re available. Let us know.”

Harry knew what was coming but he was still terrified. Why was she here? Barefoot. Reading the letters to him. What did she think.

“Dear Harry. It was so nice to meet you in person. Here is the contract we discussed. See you soon.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Kitten,” he whispered.

“Dear Harry. We hope you get her back. Enjoy your home. Never stop giving out your love. The Andersons.”

She was teary, swallowing hard. Her hands were shaking as she held the papers in front of her. “You bought me a house.”

He nodded. There was a pause. “M’sorry I took so long.”

She dropped the papers and launched herself into his arms. He stumbled back at the impact. Her arms around his neck, her feet barely touching the floor as she tucked her face into his shoulder. “Harry,” she whimpered. Harry sighed, wrapped his arms tightly around her, one at her waist, the other hand cupping the back of her head.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” his voice felt raw. Like he was the one that was crying and shaking. Not her.

She sniffled and nodded. “I know,” because she did. She read every single letter. Watched the date change but one thing never did and that was the love she felt in each letter.

“M’so tired, kitten,” he croaked.

“Of what, baby?” She cupped his face. The emotion on his face was tender and nothing like she remembered from ten years prior. Her thumb soothingly rubbed his cheek.

“Life without you,” he closed his eyes tight. “This house is yours I want nothing more than for you t’have it, but I want it t’be ours.”

She sniffled, ducked her head briefly as she glanced around. “You decorated it for Halloween,” she whispered.

“You would have done better.”

She snorted. “Harry...”

“If this is the house that makes you happy then I want it jus’ as much, kitten. But you’re my home. You always have been.”

“I don’t know what to say Harry,” she whimpered.

“Say yes.”

“Harry...” she whispered.

“Please, I’m so tired of loving and loving and never feeling that way. I know s’how I made y’feel in college and y’jus’ dealt with it. Y’jus’ wanted love and I didn’t give y’what y’needed. But m’ready now. M’so ready t’do whatever y’need t’love you the way y’deserve. The way y’always deserved.”

Not for the first time in his life, Harry prayed that if this was a dream, he would never wake up.

He never thought he would hold her again. Never thought she would be in the house she always wanted. Or that she would know he was sorry for how he was back when he was an angry kid.

Perhaps most importantly, he never thought he would feel her lips on his ever again.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Coparenting with Joel, you begin to date someone else a year after you broke up. Joel is upset about it but grows concerned when he learns the man could be a danger to you and the baby.]

Angst

“So how long you been seein’ him?”

PART ONE

It was Joel’s turn to have your three year old daughter Everly for the weekend. It had been nearly a year since you two separated, yet the routine still felt very fresh. A man you met by your job had asked you out on a date, it was strange dating anyone after being with Joel for six years yet, you agreed to it.

Joel and you hadn’t been seeing eye to eye, he always seemed so busy with work there was barely time for the two of you together. Everyday you found yourselves yelling at each other until one day you decided maybe being together wasn’t the best thing for either of you. It wasn’t like either of you to yell but something had pushed you both to a breaking point. You never forgot the look in Joel’s eyes as you packed your bags, Everly screaming in the background.

“Baby please, we can talk about this” he looked at you with desperation, sadness in his deep brown eyes. You sat looking at yourself in the mirror remembering his words when the bell suddenly rang making you jump.

“It’s daddy!” Everly yelled with excitement as she stood by the door.

“Yes, it’s daddy” you smiled at her as you opened the door. Joel instantly became distracted with what you wore as Everly jumped on his leg. The dress you wore bringing back a memory to him, a memory you must’ve forgotten to have worn it so nonchalantly.

“Daddy!” She yelled excitedly distracting him from his thoughts.

“Hi honey,”he picked her up before looking right back at you.

“You look nice” he couldn’t help but wonder what you were so dressed up for.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you turned to get her things.

“I have her stuff almost ready and um-“ your voice became background noise for him as he watched you walk. He couldn’t help but watch how your hips swayed with each step until you turned back to him.

“Did you hear what I said?” You asked noticing the distraction in his eyes.

“Yes mam,” he lied.

“Mommy has a boyfriend!” Everly suddenly spoke with a giggle.

“Everly! That is not true” Joel’s eyes turned to you curiously. Everly must’ve over heard your friend and you talking about Henry earlier.

“He said mommy was pretty” she continued as you stood with slight embarrassment.

“Oh did he?” He noticed your cheeks turned red and as curious as he was tried to distract Everly from putting you more on the spot than you already were.

“Mommy is pretty ain’t she?” He looked at you with a smirk as you took a deep breath finishing packing her bag.

“Mommy looks extra pretty in the dress daddy bought her too-“ you squinted your eyes looking up at him.

“You did not buy me this dress”

“Oh yes I did” he took a step closer as Everly pushed herself back to the floor distracted by a toy close by.

“Don’t cha remember, our second Christmas together?” He whispered making you look down at yourself when it dawned on you.

“Oh…of course” you chuckled awkwardly remembering what happened when you first tried on the dress for him Christmas morning.

Shaking off the thought you zipped up her bag and handed it to Joel.

“Well, here’s everything” you quickly changed the subject. He watched as you crouched down to kiss Everly goodbye, a slight disappointment on his face as he realized you were now wearing that dress for another man.

Walking both of them to the door you were surprised to see Henry’s car pull up. Your heart racing as you knew he would now unexpectedly meet Joel. He wasn’t suppose to, not yet but he must’ve been running early. Joel could see the distraction in your eyes as he picked up Everly. Hearing a car door close behind him he turned to see a man walking up your front porch, you had no choice now but to introduce them.

“Um, Joel this is Henry..Henry this is Joel” with Everly falling asleep on his shoulder he looked directly at Henry who put his hand out. Joel silently took it as you awkwardly watched them shake hands.

“Good to finally meet you, heard a lot about you”

“Can’t say I can say the same” Joel’s response making you rub your forehead as Henry looked over at you.

“Wow, you look amazing in that dress” Henry’s comment making Joel clench his jaw.

“Thank you” you smiled before turning back to Joel.

“Um, I guess call me if anything. I’ll see you two Sunday” you brushed your hand over Everly’s back.

“Hey, nice to meet you again man. I’ll see you around” Joel silently nodded before walking off to his car close by.

He could hear you giggling as you walked back into the house before shutting the door.

Looking back at the door he walked off chewing his inner lip clearly annoyed by the whole thing. Where the hell did this man come from? Eventually he knew you’d date again, yet a part of him wanted to believe there was still hope.

When Joel came home Sarah noticed something was bothering him, she did know him best. She also knew he probably wouldn’t say, not right away at least. Instead she played with Everly and gave him some time, the curiosity in her dying to know.

Sunday felt like it came by pretty fast, for you at least. The weekend was a long slow one with Joel thinking about how you were spending it with another man.

Standing at your door with Everly in his arms he waited for you to open and when you did he tried his best to hide what he was feeling.

“Mommy!” Everly screamed happily practically throwing herself in your arms.

“Everly! How was your weekend with daddy?” You smiled hugging her as Joel stepped inside following you.

“Good! Daddy bought me chocolate”

“Oh did he?” You turned to him with a playful glance.

“Just one” he winked at Everly who attempted to wink back making you both laugh as you put her down. He watched as you crouched down and gave her a toy to play with as the thoughts he had continued to wander in his mind.

“Your boyfriend ain’t comin’ over tonight?” Joel’s question was unexpected, you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was of course not, Everly’s here” you stood up.

“She’s clearly seen him before” he raised his brows wondering how close you two have become.

“Well, that wasn’t planned. I was grocery shopping and we ran into him. Another time we were at the mall and he was walking out. I haven’t officially introduced him to our daughter. It’s too soon. I would never bring a man to the house like that with Everly, you know that” you could tell by the look he had there was more questions but before he could ask Everly ran up to him distracting him with a book. Using that moment you turned to the kitchen and began to prepare for dinner.

With the corner of your eye you watched as Joel eventually entered the kitchen as Everly stood in front of the tv. Silently he leaned on the door way trying to find the right words to say but before he did you couldn’t hold your own thoughts to yourself any longer.

“What kind of mother do you think I am Joel?” His brows furrowed.

“Wait a minute-“

“I’ve never bought a man here with her-“

“I never doubted you for a second” he quickly interrupted realizing you didn’t understand why he was asking anything. Quietly you nodded and went back to cupboard to pull out a bowl. Joel looked around the kitchen as he walked inside, hands in his pocket before he blurt out another question.

“So how long you been seein’ him?”

“I just started seeing him a month ago” you sighed.

“Met him on my way to work one day when I had to check something out with my car-“

“So he’s a mechanic”

“Mhm” you responded with your back to him.

“We just started talking and hit it off. He’s sweet, patient, gives me a lot of his time” Joel’s expression tensed up as he heard you talk about him, he could hear the smile in your voice. A flash back of you yelling at him telling him all you wanted was his time after he had taken three over time jobs knowing it was your week off. A week you two had planned ahead together yet Joel worried about providing would continue to take extra clients. He remembered the day he came home after midnight, you lay on the couch asleep watching a movie he had promised he would watch with you that night. He remembered the guilt he felt that he had forgotten and took the extra hours. He became lost in the bad memory until Everly ran up to him.

“Hey baby, daddy’s gonna get goin’ now” he whispered to her.

“Group hug!” Everly suddenly yelled making you look up. It had been so long since she had called for one. Before you two split it became a thing everyday before either of you left for work you all had to huddle together and hug each other tightly. Everly loved those hugs, yet you weren’t expecting her to suddenly request one.

“Come on, mom!” She yelled excitedly.

“Alright” you smiled as you dusted your hands off on a towel and walked towards them. Joel and Everly pulling you in tightly. Everly giggling she suddenly slid herself down Joel and ran to the living room. Awkwardly you found yourself with Joel’s arm around your waist, holding you close against him. Your hand on his chest with the other sitting on the back of his neck the both of you froze. It had been so long since Joel felt you close like this, his body aching to pull you even closer. His eyes moving quickly between your eyes and your lips. His look distracting you before you suddenly took a step back.

“I um-I should get back to cooking” your hand slid down his chest quickly and turned away back to the counter. Squeezing your eyes shut, your shoulders tense as you fidgeted opening a box of pasta. Joel stood still for a moment noticing how tense you became. Clearing his throat he looked away placing his hands back in his pockets, disappointed that he knew he couldn’t say more…nothing that would change anything. At least he thought.

“I better get goin’, I’ll see you two next week”

“Ok” he could hear the anxiety in your voice.

You watched as he walked to the living room and got down on one knee saying bye to Everly before walking out the front door..

Joel hit the steering wheel in frustration as he drove back home. He hated himself for not making things right when he could’ve, he hated knowing you were now dating someone else.

Once he got home he was greeted by Sarah at the door who excitedly told him Tommy ordered pizza. She sat on the living room couch and continued watching her movie while Tommy played a game of cards with a friend.

“What’s up, Joel?” Sam greeted Joel as he walked past him to the fridge. Grabbing a beer he sat down at the table and gave Sam a nod before taking a sip.

“What’s goin’ on with you?” Tommy looked at his brother with a raised brow.

“Nothin’”

“Everly and y/n alright?”

“Mhm” he responded without looking his way.

Tommy stood silent until Joel finally blurt out what had been bothering him.

“She’s datin’ again”

“Damn, I’m sorry brother.” Tommy shook his head, he know Joel still had feelings for you.

“Why don’t you get back in the dating scene its been a long time already” Sam shrugged as he placed a card down.

“She sounds really into him, he does everything I didn’t” Joel continued ignoring Sam’s suggestion.

“Did you see him?” Tommy asked curiously.

“Yeah, the day that I went to pick up Everly he had just pulled up. Some mechanic- Henry’s his name” Joel took another sip of his beer not noticing Sam’s reaction.

“Henry?”

“You know him?” Joel asked looking up at Sam.

“Uh…never really spoke to him but if he’s the same mechanic on Winchester road then..-“ Sam became hesitant to tell Joel what he knew afraid of his reaction.

“What?” Joel snapped leaning forward.

“He used to date my cousin um, she had to put a restraining order on him cause he started stalking her” Joel’s brows furrowed as put his beer down.

“Stalked her?”

“Turns out guy has a track record of stalking women, he’s a weirdo. Better tell her to watch out with him” Joel looked over at Tommy who shook his head.

“You don’t know if it’s him for sure, Joel. Don’t do nothin’ stupid”

“It has to be him” Sam whispered.

Before anything else could be said Joel quickly stood up and grabbed his keys and jacket. Tommy stood up brushing his hand over his chin wondering what his brother had planned.

“What are we doin’ Joel?”

“I’m just gonna talk to her, I’ll be back” he walked by Sarah on the couch.

“I’ll be right back honey, just gotta take care of somethin’” Sarah nodded and watched her father walk out before looking back at her uncle who seemed concerned…

Tags:

@moonpascal @katmoonz @joelsteinfeld @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @mangoslushcrush @guelyury @mynameistokyo

@harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito

@untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011

@hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l

@katiemarieeee @unknownomgg

[a-spes]

So.. guess who is back with more thoughts about Wanda's really nice hands, and long nails?

Me.

I am the one who can't think about anything else but those perfect hands 🙆

You have many bad habits. You would bite your nails — or your lips, depending on your current mood — and skip meals sometimes. The woman hates that, but there is one bad habit of yours that she doesn't want to fix because she finds it absolutely endearing, and it is the way you are always avoiding her gaze.

She had quickly noticed that you were unable to hold eye contact with her for more than a few seconds, crumbling under a simple glance. She loves to slowly drag her index all the way up your neck until it finds a place under your chin. She loves to apply a slight pressure here, forcing you to tilt your head back until you have no choice but look at her, directly in the eyes. She loves the embarrassment she can read on your face.

—

Sometimes, you forget to think, and words you regret eventually fall past your pretty lips. Words that you do not mean, but would still get you in trouble with the woman — “Shut it, before you say something I'll make you regret,” she reprimands, and you can feel her nails slowly digging into your cheeks.

She is right. You don't want to suffer the consequences of your own actions, you were just craving for some of her attention. She has been so busy with her job lately that you've been feeling left out. Eventually, her thumb would find its way in your mouth, and you would just accept it.

“Isn't it what you wanted, honey? My whole attention? No, don't get shy now that you have it, and use your words to tell mommy what you want,” she teases, and suddenly you find yourself unable to speak — god, there is nothing she likes more than seeing how fast she can make you shut the fuck up and how quick she can turn you into her perfect, and obedient, little girl. One that would do anything she asks without thinking twice about it.

—

She does it on purpose, and you know it. The woman keeps pretending that she left these marks by accident, but you can see in her smile that she meant every one of them.

She loves them.

She loves to see those red crescents that decorate your skin. They are the reminder of who you are belonging to. They are the memory of the nights you've shared, and her not so gentle touches. Most of those are left when you try to squirm out of her grasp, when she has to dig her nails into your hips in order to keep you still while she ruins her precious baby.

—

That is something she loves to do, grabbing you by the hips whenever she is given the chance to. It is not her fault that you are looking so adorable that it gives her the urge to have her hands on your body, and to slowly draw pattern on your skin.

Most of the time, the woman would just sneak up behind you when you are busy, and you would have no idea that she was coming before you could feel her nails slightly digging into your skin and her soft breath brushing your neck.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

The Wildcard!

pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Child! Reader.

(PLATONIC FIC)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ Being a kid raised under the Joker’s wing isn’t exactly what anyone imagines when they talk about a "good childhood." I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna get bedtime stories when your father figure is a psychopathic clown, right? Although, now that I think about it, he probably did tell you stories before bed—just that his versions ended with explosions and maniacal laughter instead of happy endings. You never really know with him.

But, hey! There was always mom Harley. And while she wasn’t exactly the classic model of a devoted mother, Harley definitely had her moments. Those times when she’d look at you with those big, wide eyes and promise she’d protect you from everything, even from herself. And that says a lot, considering that sometimes even she didn’t know who she needed to protect herself from.

warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Blood, Trauma, Phobias.

Guide! Pt.2

A/N ── Yes, damn it, yes! My first request! Thank you so much, really, thank you! No need to clap, I’ll get all blushy uwu. I put all my love and care into this. Hope you enjoy it to the fullest!

In reality, you were not her biological child. She knew that very well, and moreover, she knew that Mr. J would never want a child with her. In fact, it had never been part of the plan. "Kids are a hassle" the Joker would say, with that shrill laugh that coursed through his body like an electric shock. And Harley, well, she didn't exactly want a baby either. Until she found you.

Harley found you among the rubble, covered in blood, although it wasn't yours (at least that's what she hoped). You couldn't have been more than five months old, and there was no trace of your mother. At that moment, her intentions weren't exactly maternal, but what could you expect from a criminal at 2 AM? However, something in your little eyes disarmed her. You were small, defenseless, and upon seeing you… well, she simply couldn't resist.

Thus began your life with Harley Quinn. It wasn't the most typical childhood, that's for sure. Mr. J saw it as just one of his whims, and as long as you didn't cry and stayed out of his business, you were welcome. According to him, it was easier to raise a little clown from childhood.

To begin with, your toys were not exactly "age-appropriate." Mr. J had a fixation with explosives, so more than once you found yourself playing with what you hoped was an innocent candy box, only for Harley to shout from across the room: "Honey, no! That's not a toy, it's dynamite! Give me that!"

Ah, motherhood. A tough job, yes, but also something Harley never thought would come to her in such an… unexpected way. In her former life, when she was still Dr. Quinzel, she envisioned a normal existence, perhaps with a good job that would provide stability. But well, one thing led to another, and there she was, raising a baby who wasn't biologically hers, but whom life —and Gotham— had placed in her arms. And although her life with the Joker was total chaos, she always made sure of one thing: that you were safe.

In her twisted way of seeing the world, Harley protected you even from him, from Mr. J himself. She knew how unpredictable the Joker could be, so she did everything possible to make sure you were never in the same room for too long. And even though it sometimes seemed like the Joker didn't even notice your existence, Harley made sure to keep that distance. "I want you to be different" she would tell you while fixing your hair with a smile, "I don't want you to end up fistfighting with Batman like mommy."

Harley loved playing with you, especially at being doctors. There was something almost nostalgic for her in that, as if every time she saw you healing your dolls, a small part of the old Dr. Quinzel awakened within her. She loved seeing you with your toy stethoscope, focused as if you were in the middle of a serious operation.

"Mom! Miss JeanieBeanie had a broken heart, and I healed her with words! Just like you told me." Harley smiled, that big, bright smile that only she could make, and although she always tried to maintain the toughness of her persona, she couldn't help but let a tear escape. "Ah, sweetie, you're a genius."

And then, of course, there was the topic of school. You couldn't attend school known as the Joker's kid, that was for sure. So with a little colorful dye, a lot of makeup in the morning, and some nice clothes, Harley would take you to school incognito, as if you were a completely normal child. At least, she tried to make you seem that way. The first days were a disaster, though.

It wasn't that Harley didn't trust the school's safety, but, of course, being the Joker's Queen left her paranoid. So there she was, lurking around the windows of your classes, hiding behind bushes, trying to ensure that no madman would come in with a Kalashnikov to disrupt your school life. Sure, she was kicked out most of the time, but she always returned. Harley always returned.

Sometimes, when she couldn't see you during recess, she'd send you hidden messages in your lunchbox, with little doodles and silly jokes that made you laugh out loud. She worried a lot about you not making friends. "Remember, sweetie, if any kid bothers you, just smile like me and show them who's boss. But don't hit them, okay? Save that for later."

When the Joker finally broke up with her, it was a disaster, like a train derailing in slow motion. But just like with everything else, Harley made sure that the blow didn't fall on you. She never let Mr. J's chaos reach you because you were her priority, her sweetie. So, holding her hand, you left with her without looking back, with her suitcase in one hand and a bat in the other.

Since then, life became a bit more complicated, but also freer. Harley and you had to make do by stealing to survive, moving from place to place until ending up in a small apartment in Gotham's Chinatown. It wasn't the best area, but hey, it had charm. There, the nights were long, the walls thin, and the sounds of street fights mixed with your laughter while you tried to do homework and Harley gave you "life advice" that included how to escape from the police in style.

"Do you know what's faster than a bullet?" she'd say while looking at your face painted in bright colors before running off with a stolen shopping cart. "You, with the right attitude!"

Harley let herself go with alcohol during some tough times, but she always kept you away from that dark side. Sure, she bought a hyena and named it Bruce, which was simply hilarious. Bruce, like that perfect man on the magazine covers that you both secretly adored. "Bruce, come here, let's go for a walk!" you'd hear her shout down the street, and the neighbors wouldn't even blink. It was Gotham, after all.

By then, you were almost done with school. Amid the chaos of your life, you made a friend... Damian something (Wayan or something like that, you were bad with names). He wasn't the friendliest person in the world; in fact, "brat" would be a kind description, but for some reason, he intrigued you. "Mom says that if a boy or girl seems cute to you, you should go for it!" you told him once, repeating Harley's wise advice. Of course, Damian just looked at you like you were the weirdest thing he'd ever seen (and mind you, he had seen weird things; he's 'friends' with the nerd Jon). And although he maintained his air of arrogance, you found him adorable in a way that even he didn't understand.

Some nights, Harley and you would just lie on the rooftop of some building, looking at the lights of Gotham. With bags of marshmallows stolen from a grocery store, you'd roast them with a lighter while she told you stories. But not normal stories, rather ones involving car chases and explosions. No princesses and castles, more like villains and spectacular escapes. Sometimes, Selina Kyle would join in. "It's easier than you think" she'd say, winking at you while showing you how to sneak into a museum without setting off the alarms. It was never a typical childhood, but it sure was entertaining.

When Harley joined (temporarily) the Birds of Prey, things started to improve a little. You had more people around you, like a dysfunctional family you didn't know you needed. The girls tried to be a good influence, although with Harley, that was always relative. But at least there were fewer explosions and more quiet nights; just that "quiet" in Harley's terms meant motorcycle races, sporadic thefts, and bar fights. Pure fun!

And occasionally, Ivy, her "friend," would come to visit them. You thought she was amazing, so elegant, so calm... You knew there was something more there. "Kiss already!" you shouted at them once, laughing, watching how Harley blushed slightly while Ivy rolled her eyes with a smile.

But despite everything, Harley never stopped being an incredible mom, in her own way. On the toughest nights, when you'd curl up in her lap after a long day, she'd stroke your hair and whisper, "You know, sweetie, I never thought I'd be a mom, but you're the best thing that ever happened to me." And although it wasn't a typical motherhood, there was something comforting in knowing that amidst all that chaos, you could always count on her.

So, amid thefts, stolen marshmallows, and moments filled with love, Harley gave you a childhood that wasn’t normal, but was filled with adventures, laughter, and unconditional love. And what more could you ask for when you have Harley Quinn as your mom?

A/N ─── My first request uwu~ I’m so excited! I really hope I did it well, and that you all like this little headcanon. I put all my love into it, so if you have more ideas or want to request something, don’t hesitate! I’m here for whatever you need.

Take a bath!

[teeshopstar]

[badjokesbyjeff]

A man was away on a business trip, and decided to call his wife and to let her know he had arrived safely

A little girl picks up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Honey. This is Daddy, is mommy near the phone?" Daddy asks

"No, Daddy. She's upstairs in the bedroom with uncle Paul."

After a brief pause, Daddy says "But, honey, you haven't got an uncle Paul."

"Oh, yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with mommy, right now."

Dad takes a second to process this, then speaks. "Uh, ok, then this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs, knock on the bedroom door and shout to mommy that daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."

A few minutes later the little girl comes back to the phone. "I did it, daddy!"

"And what happened, honey?" he asked

"Well mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser and now she isn't moving at all!"

"Oh my god! what about uncle Paul?"

"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too. He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn't knew that you took out the water last week to clean it. He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."

A long, silent pause

Then Daddy says, "Swimming pool?....... Is this 418-6819?"

[novaursa]

req for an aegon ii x reader who has a similar role of margaery tyrell? (love-bombing him so they can be betrothed and stuff)

she very easily manipulates aegon and basically uses his mommy issues to get whtv she wants (obviously bothers alicent to no end).

Web of Gold

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Next part: aegon in love

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

It’s a beautiful morning, yet the tension between you and Alicent Hightower crackles like a summer storm. You can feel her eyes boring into you from across the room, but you’ve become quite accustomed to her watchful glares. If anything, you thrive on them.

You smile sweetly, dipping your head toward Aegon as he lounges on the Iron Throne, looking far more relaxed than any king should. He’s watching you with that same eager gleam in his eyes, waiting for whatever praise you’ll offer him next. It’s become a game for you at this point—how much can you say before he completely melts? And it’s easier than it should be.

"My king," you say softly, stepping closer, your golden Lannister curls bouncing as you move. "You look especially regal today. Like Aegon the Conqueror himself reborn. Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

Aegon straightens slightly, his eyes widening with interest. "What?" His tone is eager, as though whatever you say might be the single most important revelation of his life.

"I see a man destined for greatness. Aegon, you are so strong, so powerful, and—" you let your voice drop into a breathy whisper, "so very wise." You emphasize each word, drawing out your compliments in a way that sends a flush of pride creeping up his neck.

Aegon shifts in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Do you really think so, Y/N?" he asks, his voice almost boyish, seeking that reassurance from you.

"Of course I do, darling. And I would never lie to you." You reach out, letting your fingers brush against his hand in a gentle, lingering touch, just enough to make his breath hitch. "Unlike others who may have their own agendas…" You throw a quick glance toward where Alicent stands, her expression tight, lips pressed thin. The corner of your mouth twitches into a hidden smirk.

Aegon doesn’t notice. He’s too busy basking in the attention you're lavishing on him. "Mother just worries," he mumbles, though even he seems half-hearted about it.

"Worries?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence. "I think she underestimates you, my love. You’ve already proven yourself to be a far better ruler than anyone could have imagined. I can’t imagine why she continues to hover over you like you’re still a boy."

You know exactly why. Alicent cannot stand the idea of you influencing her son. It grates on her to see Aegon so smitten, so easily swayed by your honeyed words. But that’s precisely what you’re counting on.

Aegon chuckles, clearly amused. "She just doesn’t understand, does she?"

"She doesn’t," you agree, leaning in closer so your voice is only for him. "But I do." You place your hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I see you for the man you are, Aegon. A man who doesn’t need his mother whispering in his ear, telling him what to do. You’re king now. You should be able to make your own decisions. Isn’t that what you want?"

Aegon’s eyes flicker with something—desire, admiration, a need for validation. "Yes," he says, his voice firm, though you know it’s more out of wanting to please you than actual conviction. "That is what I want."

You smile, letting your fingers trail lightly down his chest before stepping back, your eyes sparkling with the satisfaction of a job well done. "Then take what’s yours, my king. Trust yourself. Trust me." You cast another glance toward Alicent, who looks like she’s about to bite through her tongue.

She’s always there, lurking like a shadow, trying to pull Aegon back into her grasp. But he slips through her fingers every time you’re around. Alicent has power, but you? You have Aegon. And he doesn’t even realize it.

You turn to face the queen mother, giving her a radiant smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. "Your Grace, you must be so proud of Aegon," you say, your voice saccharine sweet, as though you’re not fully aware of the tension between you. "He’s grown into such a strong man under your care."

Alicent stiffens, her lips twitching in a forced smile. "He has always been capable," she says, her tone clipped. "Though I think he still benefits from wise counsel."

You tilt your head, pretending to consider her words, though you already know exactly how to respond. "Of course," you agree, "but I think he’s ready to make his own choices now. Don’t you?" You let the question hang in the air, a gentle reminder that Aegon is your king now, not hers.

Alicent opens her mouth to reply, but Aegon cuts in before she can get a word out. "Mother, Y/N’s right. I don’t need to be told what to do all the time." He laughs, clearly proud of himself for standing up to her, oblivious to the fact that he’s only echoing your words.

You beam at him, eyes sparkling. "Exactly, my love. You are your own man. And no one, not even your mother, can take that from you."

Alicent’s gaze narrows, and for a moment, you think she might say something sharp, but she bites her tongue. You know it’s eating her alive inside, watching Aegon slip further under your influence, but she can’t do anything about it. Not without making herself look overbearing in front of her son.

"Come, Aegon," you say lightly, turning back to him. "Let’s take a walk in the gardens. You could use some fresh air after sitting on that throne for so long."

Aegon rises eagerly, flashing you that boyish grin that only makes him seem more malleable. "Yes, let’s."

As you link your arm through his and lead him out of the hall, you don’t bother to look back at Alicent. You can already feel the weight of her stare burning into your back. You have Aegon wrapped around your finger, and she knows it.

But as long as you continue to feed his need for affection, for someone to praise him and treat him like the king he so desperately wants to believe he is, he will never stray far from your side. And Alicent can do nothing but watch.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : LITTLE MUTANT: :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You are spending a peaceful afternoon with your four-year-old son, Tommy. While playing, you notice his toy plane suddenly floating in the air, revealing the first signs of his mutant abilities. Startled, you call Logan, who rushes back home. Together, you both watch as Tommy uses telekinesis to stack his building blocks, completely unaware of the gravity of what he's doing. Logan reassures you that, just like him, Tommy will learn to control his powers, and you both find comfort in knowing you'll handle it as a family.

Based on this request.

IT WAS A QUIET SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT THE HOWLETT HOUSEHOLD, the kind of peaceful day that felt like a rare gem. Birds chirped outside the open window, sunlight streamed into the living room, and the air smelled of fresh laundry. The idyllic scene was only made more perfect by the sight of you and your four-year-old son, Tommy, curled up on the sofa together.

Tommy sat in your lap, giggling as you tickled his belly, his small fingers clutching a toy airplane. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes, the ones he’d inherited from his father, Logan. That same scruffy intensity, but softened by the innocence of a child.

"Mommy, fly!" Tommy exclaimed, holding the plane above his head and wiggling it through the air. "Look! I'm a pilot!"

"You sure are, sweetie," you said, grinning. "You're the best pilot I've ever seen. Where are you flying today, Captain Tommy?"

He squinted, thinking seriously about it for a moment. "To the moon! And then... and then to the jungle to find the lions!" His arms wobbled as he made dramatic sound effects, roaring for the lions.

"The moon and the jungle? Busy day!" You played along, tousling his messy hair. He was so full of energy and imagination that it felt like every day with him was an adventure.

Just as you leaned down to kiss his forehead, you noticed something odd. The plane in his hand seemed to... well, it seemed to be shaking.

No, not shaking. Floating. It was barely perceptible, but it was definitely hovering, just a few inches above his hand.

You blinked, rubbing your eyes, thinking maybe you were just tired. Four years of motherhood didn’t exactly do wonders for your sleep schedule. But when you looked again, the plane was still floating, a soft blue glow surrounding it like it was suspended by some invisible force.

"Uh, Tommy?" you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "How are you doing that, honey?"

Tommy, completely oblivious to the phenomenon, just giggled and shook the plane in the air again. "Doing what, Mommy?"

You felt your heart skip a beat. Oh boy. Logan was going to want to see this.

You carefully placed Tommy on the sofa and reached for your phone. Logan had gone out for one of his "I need some space to clear my head" walks in the woods behind the house, but it looked like he was about to get pulled back into dad duty.

You quickly dialed his number. It only took one ring before his gravelly voice answered, laced with that familiar grumpiness.

“Yeah honey?”

“Logan, you need to get back here. Now.”

There was a brief pause. “Why? What’s wrong? Is Tommy okay?”

“He’s... fine. Sort of. Just... hurry. I think something’s happening.”

“Be there in five.” You heard the rustle of leaves and the faint sound of him running before he hung up. Classic Logan. Always ready to bolt into action the second his family needed him.

You turned back to Tommy, who had abandoned his floating toy plane in favor of drawing on the wall with a crayon. Normally, that would’ve driven you crazy, but given the circumstances, a little crayon art felt like the least of your worries.

~

True to his word, Logan burst through the front door exactly five minutes later, his rugged frame filling the entryway. His flannel shirt was half unbuttoned, exposing his muscular chest, and his hair was as wild as ever. He looked like he’d sprinted the entire way back.

“Okay,” he grumbled, striding into the living room. “What’s going on?”

You pointed toward Tommy, who was now sitting on the floor, happily stacking his building blocks... without touching them. The blocks were arranging themselves in mid-air, each one glowing faintly, as if magnetically drawn into place.

“Logan...” you whispered, your eyes wide. “Our son is a mutant.”

Logan’s brow furrowed as he knelt down to Tommy’s level, watching intently. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just observing the floating blocks. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. “He’s got it.”

You knelt beside Logan, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do you think... do you think he knows what he’s doing?”

Tommy, blissfully unaware of the significance of his new abilities, just grinned up at the both of you. "Daddy, look! I'm a magician!"

Logan’s gruff expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, buddy. Looks like you are.”

You leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of Logan’s body next to yours as you whispered, “What do we do?”

Logan huffed a small laugh and shrugged, his usual stoicism breaking just a little. “Hell if I know. You think there’s a manual for this? He’s a kid. He’s got a mutation. We’ll figure it out.”

“But... what if he can’t control it? What if it gets worse?”

Logan glanced at you, his expression serious now, but not without comfort. “He’s our kid. We’re not gonna let him go through this alone. We’ll teach him, just like I was taught.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in your chest ease slightly. If anyone could handle this, it was Logan. He’d been through enough in his own life to know what it was like to have powers he couldn’t control. And now, with Tommy showing signs of being a mutant, it felt like you were entering uncharted territory as parents.

Tommy, meanwhile, was completely absorbed in his floating blocks, giggling as they danced in the air. “Look, Mommy! I’m making a tower!”

“That’s... a very nice tower, sweetie,” you said, forcing a smile as you watched the blocks stack themselves higher and higher.

Logan chuckled softly and ruffled Tommy’s hair, his gruff exterior melting just a little more. “Hey, kiddo, maybe we should keep the floating stuff between us for now, huh? Don’t want to freak out the other kids at daycare.”

Tommy looked up at Logan with wide eyes, as if he was processing the most important secret of his life. He nodded seriously. “Okay, Daddy. I won’t tell. It’s our secret.”

Logan shot you a look, raising his eyebrow as if to say, *See? Easy.* You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully.

“So, what now, oh wise and experienced mutant dad?” you teased, leaning your head against Logan’s shoulder.

He smirked, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Now? We teach him how to use those powers right. And maybe... we start bolting down the furniture.”

You laughed, feeling the tension finally break as Logan kissed the top of your head. It wasn’t exactly the parenting journey you’d imagined, but with Logan by your side, you knew you could handle anything. Even a four-year-old with telekinesis.

Tommy, now bored of his floating tower, climbed into Logan’s lap, resting his head on his father’s chest. “Daddy, can we play with the lions tomorrow?”

Logan smiled softly, stroking Tommy’s hair. “Yeah, buddy. We’ll play with the lions. But remember... no floating lions.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Tommy murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as he dozed off.

As you watched your little boy fall asleep in Logan’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of love for both of them. Your life might not have been normal by any stretch, but it was yours. And honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Guess we’ve got our hands full,” you whispered, resting your hand on Tommy’s small back.

Logan glanced down at you, that familiar glint of affection in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’.”

And as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over your family, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe parenting a little mutant wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @shybluebirdninja @boomveronika @wolviesgirl @slowlikehoneyyyy @lanabobana @corvusmorte @seamlessepiphany

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!!

[wandaslittlebird]

Confessing

Stepmom!Wanda x Pervy!GP!Reader

After months of spying on your stepmother, you’re finally caught and made to confess far more than you’d expected.

CW: Reader is displeased with her anatomy, non-consensual spying, underwear stealing and other nefarious acts, mentions of masturbation, stepmom/stepdaughter, intense questioning, dacryphilia (kinda), humiliation, spanking, mommy kink, accidental orgasm

Word Count: 4k

A/N: It’s finally complete! There’s going to be an alternative version of this fic with a non g!p reader soon! Wanda’s also a lot meaner in that one, so get excited if that’s your thing.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, still mostly naked from the long shower you’d just taken. You stood up on your tippy toes in order to highlight the main attraction: your new lacy thong underwear.

You’d stolen them from your stepmother Wanda's wardrobe earlier while she was busy making dinner. When you’d found them, you just knew you had to have them. It was the first time you’d ever stolen her panties to wear, and the act both scared and aroused you.

It was kind of her fault, really, that you had to steal her panties to wear. At least, that’s how you justified it to yourself. She always bought you the plainest and ugly boxer briefs.

“Pretty girls with penises can’t wear little panties like that,” she had told you when you asked to buy some panties. “You gotta wear some with a little more fabric to keep those princess parts all tucked into place.”

She was right, of course. Your “extra appendage” made even boyshorts unwearable. Perhaps you could make it work if you were a bit smaller. Alas, you’d been cursed to have a bigger dick than even most men had.

But you hated your boxers, regardless. Sure they kept your anatomy secure, but they never came in pink, or lace, or had any fun bows on the waistband. Even your favorite pair were just navy with blue dog silhouettes on them.

These panties, however, were so much better. They hugged your hips perfectly, creating a beautiful V shape that accentuated your shape. Sure there was still a bulge between your legs, but you thought it was made much less unsightly by the black lace it prodded. There was, of course, the issue of keeping it inside the panties. There was so little fabric it was bound to pop out at some point.

But for right now, you twisted happily on your toes, feeling sexy and pretty, just like Wanda was when she wore her pretty panties.

“Honey! Dinner’s ready!” You heard Wanda’s voice from the dining room.

You frowned, not ready to get dressed quite yet. Nonetheless, you shouted from the bathroom, “I’ll be down in a second!” before slipping on your plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. It’s fine. You’d be nice and quick with dinner, then you could slip away to the privacy of your room for the rest of night. You had a better mirror in there anyway: a full body one that would solve this tip toe problem. Maybe you could even put on a bit of a fashion show for yourself, trying on all of your favorite bras and deciding which one made for the best set.

You took a deep breath, trying to mask your excitement. It was going to be a perfect night. All you had to do was make it through dinner first.

You walked nervously down the stairs into the dining room where you found Wanda dishing out pasta onto each of your plates. She offered you a gentle smile upon arrival. “Oh good, you made it. I was worried for a second there you’d make me eat alone. Just pasta tonight, nothing fancy. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, it’s no problem at all,’” you stammered. “Anything you make will surely be delicious.” You tried to offer her the same smile she’d offered you, but it came out awkward and uneven. It was clear you were nervous. You cursed yourself for your inability to hide your feelings from her.

She tilted her head in slight confusion. “Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed.”

“I… uh… yeah I’m fine. I must’ve just taken a really hot shower,” you attempted to explain. She clearly wasn’t buying it. You shrank back in your chair a little bit, shifting uncomfortably as your dick threatened to escape its flimsy confines. The sensation only caused you to blush harder.

“Are you sure?” she asked, unconvinced. “Let me feel your head.” She leaned over the table, giving you a clear view down the front of her shirt. Fuck. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath her blouse. You inhaled shakily, shifting even more obviously as you felt yourself grow hard. You took in a sharp breath as you felt your dick pop out of the leg hole of the underwear.

She touched your head innocently with the back of her hand. Her brows furrowed in confusion as your uncomfortable wiggling became more pronounced. “Darling, you seem terribly restless. What’s going on?” She was starting to catch on, at least, to the fact you were keeping something from her. Though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was, she was certain she could get it out of you. You were never very good at keeping secrets, especially not from her.

You scooted your chair backwards, determined to escape this situation as quickly as possible. “I… uh… Actually I am feeling a bit poorly. I better go up to my room.” You made a move to try and get up, but she grabbed your wrist before you could escape.

You turned to face her and you were met with a glare that nearly made you crumble. She looked at you like she was looking into your soul, like she was some sort of omnipotent goddess that already knew every secret you’d ever tried to keep. “Honey,” she said, voice even and emotionless, “I think we need to have a talk.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you collapsed back down into your seat. “I’m sorry, mommy,” you whispered tearfully. How could she possibly know? Did she see something by accident?

She smiled knowingly. She had you now. That poor little head of yours couldn’t come up with a lie right now no matter how hard you tried. She circled the table and squatted down next to your chair, squeezing your hand and soothingly rubbing your temple with her thumb. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s not mad. I just need you to tell me what happened, okay? It’s okay, you can tell mommy.”

You swallowed. So she didn’t know. If you played your cards right, you could still make it out of this. Subconsciously, you crossed your legs, squeezing them tightly together, trying to hide yourself from her. It was a painfully obvious move, but her soft voice and her hand on your head were making it so very hard to think clearly.

Wanda smirked and ran her hand up the side of your hip. Whatever you were hiding was somewhere in here. Surely it wasn’t just a boner that’d gotten you this worked up. She’d caught you with several in the past, but she’d never said anything. Maybe you blushed or scratched your arm, but you’d never been like this.

Her hand slid over the fabric of your baggy pajama pants. Oddly enough, she couldn’t feel the bulky fabric of your boxers under the pants. Your secret wasn’t just that you weren’t wearing underwear, was it? No. As her hand got further up your waist, she felt them. They weren’t boxers, but there was something there.

“Honey,” she said calmly. “What are you wearing under your pajamas?”

Your mouth went dry and you froze, unsure how to answer her question. You decided it was best to play dumb. “W-what do you mean? Underwear.”

“Oh come on now darling,” she said, voice soft but slightly perturbed. “You know what I’m talking about. Are you wearing your boxers right now?”

Your eyes darted around the room, avoiding her gaze at all cost. She wasn’t going to check if you lied, was she? You hesitantly nodded.

“Are you sure?” She asked, unconvinced. “Do you mind if I lift up your shirt so I can make sure?”

Your hands flew to your waist, pinning your shirt to your body. “I… uh… I don’t feel comfortable showing you my underwear.”

She pursed her lips, annoyed with your evasiveness. She had started to believe that her soft mommy act wasn’t going to cut it, if she really wanted you to confess. “Darling, I’ve seen you in your boxers countless times before. Why are you getting so bashful all the sudden?”

You curled up tighter. You knew she was on to you by this point, but the humiliation of revealing yourself was too much. “I just… I don’t wanna show you, okay?” Your bottom lip quivered, tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

Wanda stood up, pushing your chair back until it hit the wall. You gasped, looking up at her, frightened as she loomed over you menacingly. “Alright, darling. If you can’t be a good girl and tell mommy what’s going on, I’m going to have to pull you over my lap, push your pants down to your ankles, and spank you in whatever underwear you’re wearing, okay? So I’ll ask you one more time. Are. You. Wearing. Your. Boxers. Right. Now?”

Your eyes went wide. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your entire body started to shake as you stared up at her, frozen. Her gaze was harsh now, face unmoving as she waited on an answer.

Finally the dam broke. A cry ripped from your throat and tears poured down your face. You crumbled to pieces underneath her. “No! I’m not wearing my underwear, I’m wearing yours! I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have done it. And I know I shouldn’t have lied! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You sobbed.

She shrunk back down, squatting again on the floor in front of you. She could hardly hide the pleasure she got from watching you shake and sob underneath her. She took your hand in hers, wiping away your tears. “See, baby? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You melted into her hand. You were truly hers now. No more lying, no more games. No more thoughts in your precious little head aside from “do exactly what mommy tells you to do”. Any resistance you had had melted away.

“Can you tell mommy why you were wearing her panties, sweetheart?” She asked softly.

“I wanted to be pretty,” you cried weakly. “All I ever get to wear are gross, ugly boxers but I just wanted to be pretty like you.”

Wanda nodded in understanding. “You wanted to wear pretty panties like mommy, huh?”

You nodded. Your head was so jumbled it felt like the confessions were spilling out of you. “I see you through the door sometimes, when you’re getting dressed. You look so pretty with your matching bras and panties. And I just… I wanted to look like that too,” you confessed.

“You see me through the door?” She asked, noting how you had said ‘see’ rather than ‘watch’. “Do you spy on mommy while she’s naked? Do you watch me when I change my clothes?”

Your head lulled to the side. “No! …yes… sometimes.” You confessed, getting quieter with each statement.

She raised her eyebrows, surprised and amused by your unswerving honesty. She’d known, of course, about your little habits. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought. However, having you blubbering under her, confessing every little thing you’d ever done, brought her immense satisfaction.

She ran her hand up your upper thigh again, lightly tracing shapes with her fingers. “How long have you been spying on mommy, huh?”

You sighed, feeling yourself grow hard in your pants. Her touch was so memorizing you nearly forgot to answer the question. She pulled her hand away, grabbing your face and raising her eyebrows expectantly. You snapped out of your haze. “I don’t know! I don’t know how it started! Please! I promise I’m not a naughty girl!”

Her hand moved up to your hair, gently wiping it from her face. Her rapid switching from gentle to harsh was making your head spin. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Mommy’s not mad. You’re doing a very good job being honest with me.” She leaned forward, so close you could feel her breath against your ear. “How does it make you feel, watching me in my room like that? Watching me change my clothes and seeing my pretty lingerie?”

“G-good,” you answered hazily. “I just… I like to see, sometimes.”

She was slowly climbing up your body, almost in your lap now. “You just like to see sometimes, hmm?” She repeated. “Is that all?”

“Sometimes I-I like to… um… to-touch my… in the hallway while I watch,” you confessed, too scared and hazy to lie to her anymore.

A faint smile grew on her lips. She could hardly believe how vulnerable she’d made you. She’d never quite seen you like this before. “That’s quite naughty of you, darling. You can’t just touch yourself in the hallway like that. Someone could catch you, you know.”

“Dad almost… one time he saw… but he didn’t know what I was doing and I pretended I was waiting on you.”

She sat on your knees, rubbing soothing circles on your collarbones and shoulders. “Dad almost caught you, huh? And what were you doing, exactly?”

“Just… rubbing… on the outside. I didn’t have my h-hands in my pants or anything,” you stammered.

She leaned forward again, moving her hands down to your hips. “That was a very very naughty thing to do, little girl. I better not catch you rubbing yourself in the hallway again.”

You shook your head. “It will never happen again! I promise!”

She grabbed your face again, significantly softer now that she’d already broken you. She simply lifted your chin to look her in the eyes. “No more lying, darling. I want to know the truth. Are you going to stop spying on me?”

You nodded frantically, determined to never find yourself in this situation again. “Never! I swear!”

“Good girl,” she cooed. She gently rubbed your cheek with her thumb. “And no more stealing my underwear, agreed?”

You nodded again, driven to yet another confession you hadn’t planned on making. “No more! And no more stealing the dirty ones either. I won’t even snoop again! I promise!”

“Oh?” Wanda purred, “So you’ve been stealing my dirty panties too? Not just the clean ones?” Once again, she had been noticing her panties in your laundry instead of hers for months now. She was under no illusion that they were ending up there accidentally.

“This… this was the first time I stole any clean ones! I’ve never worn them before either!” You defended.

She hummed softly, pretending to ponder your confession. “Hmm. And what, exactly, do you do with my dirty panties?”

“I just… smell,” you confessed. “Some I use them to… t-touch myself with.”

“You use them when you touch yourself?” She asked, her voice still gentle and sweet. She ran her hands through your hair with an air of possession.

You nodded. “One time I had… I had a taste. But just one time!”

She chuckled smugly. “Oh?” She smirked down at you. “You took a taste, huh? Just once?”

You nodded. You were so terribly embarrassed. You wanted to throw yourself into her and beg her for forgiveness, but you doubted it would help.

“And how did I taste, darling?” She asked.

You moaned a little at the memory, hips bucking up as you felt yourself grow harder. “Really g-good. I’d never… finished that much before.”

“Aww,” she chuckled again. “Did you cum really hard when you tasted mommy?”

You nodded. Her hands traced light patterns on your hips, making their way to your stomach. “Just from a little taste?” She asked again, egging you on for more details.

“I didn’t even have to… touch myself. It just… happened all on its own,” you said. The tip of your cock was pressing hard against the fabric of your pajama pants now. The outline was painfully clear now that your underwear was no longer covering it. Wanda looked down at your lap and smirked smugly.

“It looks like maybe you enjoyed it, huh? Cumming from mommy’s taste alone?” She lightly traced the waistband of your pants, getting close but not quite touching the bulge in the fabric.

You whimpered and bucked your hips up, trying to get her hand closer to where you needed it. “Y-yeah. I didn’t know it could… happen like that. I thought you had to… touch it.”

Wanda hummed, pondering your words. “Most little princesses do. But you're a very special little princess, aren’t you?”

You nodded, still sniffling. The whole ordeal had you beyond embarrassed, yet you noticed that your arousal persisted through the embarrassment. Perhaps it was even worsened by it.

“Can-can I go to my room?” You stuttered suddenly. You had to get out of here, to somewhere more private before your humiliation and arousal bubbled over.

“Aww, sweetheart,” she cooed with fake sympathy. “Did you really think after all of this I would just let you go to your room?”

Your eyes went wide with terror. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take before disaster struck. “B-but you said you weren’t mad!”

“I’m not mad, honey,” she reassured. “But what you did was very very naughty, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, another wave of tears threatening to fall.

“And when little girls do naughty things they have to be punished, don’t they?” She said, affectionately combing through your hair.

You nodded again, whimpering under her gentle touch. “But you’ll go easy on me, right? Because I was a good girl and I was honest and I told you everything?”

She chuckled. Your description wasn’t exactly accurate, but she couldn’t help but take at least a little pity on you. You had confessed in the end, even if it took a little pushing. “Of course, baby,” she soothed. “Now go upstairs and wait for mommy. I want you over the end of the bed in nothing but mommy’s panties, okay?”

You nodded frantically, running up the stairs and assuming the position as soon as she got off your lap.

She chuckled, amused by your eager obedience, and boxed up the pasta she’d made so she could easily heat it back up after this was over.

It only took her about five minutes for her to finally come upstairs, but to you, bent naked over the edge of the bed, it felt like hours.

You had to fight to keep your head down on the mattress when you heard her open the bedroom door. You whined as you watched her pull the wooden hairbrush from her nightstand. “No mommy! Please not the hairbrush! Please I was so honest and-and I answered all of your questions-“

She cut you off by rubbing gentle circles on the swell of your ass. “Shshsh,” she soothed. “Mommy’s only doing this because she loves you, okay? I have to remind my sweet girl what happens when she’s naughty so she’ll remember to be a good girl, right?”

You whimpered and squirmed under her, trying to be patient and still but also desperate to get away from the hairbrush. The thin fabric of the underwear offered you little to no protection, and your now hard dick was no longer restrained by the fabric.

“I want you to count for me, okay?” She instructed. “If you can keep count like a good girl, we’ll only do 15, but if I have to count for you, I’m gonna have to do 25, okay?”

You nodded, determined to be good and keep count. However, you weren’t traditionally known for keeping a clear head during your punishment. “Can-can I hold onto a pillow, please?”

She couldn’t see your face, but the tears in your voice made it hard for her to deny you anything. “Of course, baby,” she said, pulling a pillow from the headboard and tucking it into your arms. She kissed the side of your teary face. “Mommy loves you very much, princess. It’ll be over soon.”

She tapped your ass twice with the hairbrush before placing the first smack firmly on your left cheek. You cried out, wailing more with overwhelming embarrassment than pain.

“One!”

She hit you again with perfect precision in almost the exact same spot.

“T-two”

She switched sides, smacking you again on the other cheek.

“Three!”

You made it to seven before you inevitably lost count. She waited for a moment after the strike before she decided your wailing was not going to give way to a number, and she officially started counting herself.

By ten, you had resorted to begging. You knew better than to flail and kick your legs, she’d have you pinned over her lap with a far worse punishment in store, but you were allowed to cry and plead all you wanted. “Please mommy! Please, I'll be good. I learned my lesson mommy please no more!”

You sounded so pathetic she was almost tempted to have mercy on you. You weren’t even halfway through your punishment now that she’d pushed it to 25. But she would stick to her word. That was, after all, what was most important when it came to discipline.

It wasn’t even so much the pain, you were trying to escape, but something far more alarming that boiled in your lower belly. Having her, a commanding force over you, was awakening something in you. The humiliation of a confession matched with wearing her underwear and being spanked like a child over her bed had a coil building in your lower stomach.

By 15 spanks, you realized it was inevitable. You were pleading with her more quietly now. Your hips bucked against the bed in what she thought was an attempt to get away, but by the 20th spank the coil snapped. In a humiliating display of desperation, you came, spilling your seed on the sheets.

She stopped spanking you, taking a second to realize what just happened. “Did you just…?”

You wailed into the pillow, burying your face into it until it nearly suffocated you. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry mommy I didn’t mean to! I’ll clean it up! I promise! Please no more spankings mommy! Please, I'll be a good girl!”

She rubbed soothing circles on your lower back, genuinely trying to calm you enough to talk. As much as she wanted to stay true to her word and finish your punishment, making sure you didn’t suffocate yourself was a higher priority.

“It’s okay honey. You’re okay. Accidents happen,” she comforted. She was more amused than anything by the situation. However, she feared if she busted out in laughter, you’d keel over right then and there.

“No it’s not!” You sobbed. “I just came on your bed while I was getting punished for being naughty and dirty already!”

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy understands. You didn’t mean to make a mess of mommy’s bed, did you?” She asked in her most soothing voice, one she might use if she were talking to a small child.

You shook your head into the pillow. “I really really didn’t mean to. Please don’t punish me!”

Wanda cooed, rubbing your heaving back. “You’re not in trouble, baby. You’re never gonna be in trouble for something you did by accident. You just made a little mess, darling. No need for tears.”

She sat down next to you on the bed, dragging you onto her lap. She could almost laugh at how pathetic you looked, all snotty and sobbing, still mostly naked as she sat you up on her lap. Despite it all, she thought you looked absolutely darling.

“Are you a little embarrassed, princess?” She asked as you refused to let go of the pillow you had practically burrowed into.

You nodded, remaining completely unwilling to look at her. She grabbed a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around you, hoping being less naked would lure you out of hiding. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, baby,” she reassured. “Mommy understands. You're not in trouble, sweet girl.” She rubbed your back through the sheet, rocking you in her lap.

After a few moments of silence she kissed your head and said “I’m gonna put you on the couch while I clean up your little mess and then you can sleep in mommy’s room tonight. Does that sound good, princess? Do you wanna stay with mommy tonight?”

Finally, you discarded your pillow, allowing her to see your teary face. You nodded. “I wanna stay in mommy's room.”

She smiled, kissing you once on the forehead. “I’d love that, darling. You can keep me nice and warm all night long.”

[holybibly]

Unholy thoughts of the day: The gorgeous and experienced Omega Hwa seduces the innocent and tender newcomer Omega next door.

You're shy, sweet, pretty and completely innocent - totally his type. And oh my, what luck, you just introduced yourself as an Omega. A late bloomer, but already so ripe, juicy, perfect for fucking. He wants to sink his teeth into you and Seonghwa is sure that instead of bleeding you'll bleed honey. He can taste the sticky sugar of your slime on his tongue and he wants to taste more.

Your thighs are so curvy and lush that they'll fit perfectly around his head as you ride his face. Oh, how embarrassed you'll be the first time you sit on your well-deserved throne, but Hwa will teach you. Teach you to do and behave as he pleases.

It's such a cliché that all Omegas should fuck Alphas, that they all need this overrated knot. Seonghwa knows many other ways to make cute Omegas cum over and over again.

Your parents trust him, of course, he is such a model Omega, so gentle, so well-behaved, so kind. And of course he has that notorious maternal instinct, and honestly, Hwa doesn't mind being a pretty mommy, but only for sweet, sugary Omegas that he can fuck for hours on end.

You are too cute, your panties are white and soft, with all those frills and bows. You have so many of them that you don't even notice when a few pairs are missing - the ones stained with your mucus.

So innocent, he wants to ruin you, rebuild you as he pleases. You look like a doll and Hwa can't wait to play with you.

You spend so much time in his house and your smell is everywhere except his bed, but that's for now. He's already started preparing a nest for you - pillows, blankets, sweets, handcuffs. You can't go anywhere, Seonghwa is already addicted.

Your parents trust him, trust him so much that they let you stay with Seonghwa for a while while they go on a business trip. It's a pity no one told them that the most dangerous animals hide behind sugar wrappers.

Seonghwa wants you, he knows how to seduce you, how to make you crawl to him on your knees. How to teach you how to honor him properly.He is not ashamed to walk in front of you almost naked, he likes it when you look at his body, he wants you to lick it with your little tongue. He wants to feel your hands on his cock, he wants to spit in your mouth after you have come on his tongue and see how you swallow.

He wants you to become a real whore, a slutty little angel just for his entertainment, his bitch. Even if you don't realise it yet, you already belong to him. After all, whatever Seonghwa wants, he gets.

Maybe somewhere in the world your amazing Alpha is waiting for you, of course you should have one or more, after all Alpha harems are quite common, but Hwa will never let you go and he is a damn sight better than any fucking Alpha.

[sisterslvt]

thinking about mom finding a thong that she definitely did not nor would not buy me in the laundry.

she’s furious, marches upstairs. she throws the door open while i’m sprawled out naked on the floor, two fingers deep in my pussy in front of my mirror. we both freak out, although she gains her composure much quicker. “what do you think you’re doing young lady? you’re going to explain to me exactly what you’re hoping comes out of you wearing things like this!” she holds the lingerie up for me to see. i’m so embarrassed, i manage to stutter out: “mom, can’t you see i’m busy?! g-get out.” not good enough, apparently. she grabs my hand, still dripping, and pulls me to my feet.

“while you’re in my house, you don’t make the rules. sit down, and tell me why you have these.” i shuffle over to my bed and sit down, trying to grab a pair of pants or a shirt or anything to cover myself. mom sees and snaps at me “okay, so you’re too good for clothes around strangers, but you’re embarrassed around me? give me a break. stop. tell me about these already.”

she isn’t taking no for an answer. “i, I thought they looked cute, no other reason!” her demeanor changes. she’s no longer as stern-looking. she’s almost…inquisitive? “hm, well i’ll be the judge of that. here. put them on.” “wh-what?” “you heard me. show me what they look like on you.” i hesitantly take the pair of panties from her, slide them on. god, they barely cover anything, she’s gonna kill me.

“i think you have a point. they do look really good on you. but you definitely shouldn’t be wearing them out. clearly, all you’re thinking about is sex. so here’s what’s going to happen”

i watch in shock as she stands up, unbuttons her jeans, and pulls her cock out, pulling a string of precum away

“um, uh-“ is the only thing i can manage to get out. i should be disgusted, but between being interrupted while i was touching myself, and the way her curves enrapture me, the only other reaction i have is to stare

“what, baby? this is what you wanted, isn’t it? to be fucked in a thong? lay down on the bed.”

i honestly cannot believe what’s happening. i don’t know how to react

“do what i say!”, she snaps . “you’ve been so aloof, it’s time i reminded you who’s in charge” as taken aback as i am, i don’t know what other choice i have

i do as i’m told, and lay down on my back. “that’s a start. now show me what you were doing before i came in” i hesitate for a moment, and then start to rub my clit through the lingerie. god, it feels so good.

“good girl, just like that.” my eyes follow her as she pulls off her jeans and panties, and then grabs my thighs to pull me closer to her dripping cock.

“are you wet for mommy? hm, you want mommy’s cock?” almost instinctually, i let out a breathy “yesss”

she pulls the thong to the side, once again revealing what she definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near. i don’t care anymore. i want it

her tip grazes against my soaked pussy, not quite pushing inside. “tell me how much you want it, honey. it’ll be our little secret.” fuck, she’s so mean. “so, so bad, mommy. please fuck me, i’ll do anything”

she bites her lip and sinks her cock into me, burying as deep as she can, quickly followed by her pulling back and then forward again

“you’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you? god, you’re so fucking wet, i knew you’d do whatever it took to get off” why is she able to read my thoughts like this? “mom, you feel so good, don’t stop.”

she doesn’t. even when i start to orgasm, she only fucks me harder. the ecstasy of my mom making me cum over and over reduces me to tears, moans, and the occasional “fuck fuck fuck fuck”

then i can feel it coming on, the big one. “mom, i’m…gonna cum.” “good girl, that’s what i wanted to hear” she picks up her pace, puts her thumb on my clit “cum for mommy, baby” that pushes me over the edge, i clench a fistful of sheets as a wave of bliss, the best orgasm i’ve ever had washes over me. i barely notice mom moaning louder than before, but then feel her release inside me

the warmth of her cum immediately starts to leak out of me as soon as she pulls out. before i can react to anything that just happened, she’s putting on her clothes.

“wait, mom, don’t you want to hold on a second?” “that was nice, honey, but your sister is coming over and the laundry isn’t done yet. get cleaned up and dressed”

yeah she’s treating me like her personal whore, but i’d be lying if i said i don’t like it