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qrrieterisunnq · 2 months ago

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Good Luck Kiss - Jack Hughes

strawberry girl masterlist

JACK!HUGHES X AMARA!JAMES — WARNINGS: nothing, just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: Jack swears he plays better when Amara kisses him before every game. Now that he’s injured, Amara kisses every Devil on the cheek for good luck. — WORD COUNT: 2,4K — AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey there, guys! Quick question: Would you be interested in a taglist for the AU's and fictions? If yes, please let me know!! Love you guys!<3 PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

No one believed when Jack said that you were his good luck charm. At first, Amara didn’t believe it either, but then she started to notice that it might be true.

Every time she kissed him, the devils won the game, but the days when she couldn’t attend the game and give him his kiss, they lost.

And later into it, the rest of the Devils noticed it too. And they made it their mission to not let Jack step on the ice before he got a kiss from her.

But now, with Jack being after surgery, they don’t know who their luck charm will be.

“Jack!” Jesper yells when he sees his friend entering the locker room. “Amara!” he yells even louder, happy to see their luck charm. Yeah, that is what they started to call her.

“Hey, Bratter.” Jack grins at him, wrapping his good arm around Amara’s shoulders.

“Hi Jesper,” Amara smiles back and snuggles deeper into Jack’s warm chest. “Hey, guys.” She waves back at the others as they stand by the entrance of the locker room.

“Came to look at us?” Nico asks, walking towards them and pulling Amara in for a hug. Amara melts in his embrace, closing her eyes for a brief moment just to enjoy the presence of her best friend.

“Yeah, decided to fly down to give you some moral help! You better win it, assholes!” he looks around the locker room, earning laughs from everyone.

“Plus, I wanted to give you your lucky kisses.” Amara smiles up at Nico and at Luke, who is the next one to pull her in for a hug, even though she lives with him.

“Oh, I’m gonna kiss the hell out of ya!” Dawson smirks at her, blowing her a kiss. The whole room explodes in laughter when they notice Jack’s face.

“I can’t wait!” Amara winks at him while she watches Jack’s surprised look from the corner of her eye.

“Are you serious, Berry?!” he asks in disbelief, while the entire locker room laughs at him.

“Course not, baby.” She grins up at him, walking back to him to snuggle in his chest.

Jack pulls her even closer, resting his hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and kisses her hair. “Good, 'cause you’re mine.”

“Oh, we know that, Jacky.” Pauly wiggles his brows at them.

“Anyway, we’re going upstairs to watch warm-ups, and then we’ll return so Amara can give you all your lucky kisses.” Amara looks around the locker room and enjoys the atmosphere there as Jack speaks, and they slowly make their way to the door. “But don’t think this will be happening next season. As soon as I’m on the ice, I am the only one she’ll be kissing.” He glares at the guys who are in there and walks out with Amara. But before they can exit the room, Amara turns and blows them a kiss.

“Don’t be jealous, Jacky,” Amara nudges his side as they make their way to the family section.

“M’not,” he grumbles, but tightens his grip on her hand. “Just don’t like sharing, s’all.”

“I love you,” Amara smiles up at him and brings their hands to her mouth, kissing his knuckles.

He looks down at her, his eyes softening at the sight of his girl. “I love you.” Bending down, he kisses her lips with a smile.

They both make their way to their seats, greeting the staff on their way there.

“Shit,” Amara whines when she searches for her crocheting kit.

“What?” Jack asks with cocked brow.

“I forgot my crocheting in the car. Can I borrow your keys?” she looks at him with doe eyes.

“Yeah, be careful, okay?” he pulls out the keys, handing them to her. With a peck to his cheek, Amara takes the keys and jogs down the stairs and out to the parking lot to get her crocheting.

“Best at the end.” Amara grins at Dawson, who is standing right in front of her. Jack, who is standing a few feet from them, just rolls his eyes, but doesn’t look away.

“Of course. Gimme my kiss, babe!” he says, blush creeping up on his cheeks. Giggling, Amara grabs his cheeks and gives him a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“No, go out there and win the game, handsome!”

“Will do, Ma’am!” he salutes and spins her around, landing her in front of Jack. “Here you go, Rowdy. Wasn’t that bad to share her with us, was it?”

“Good thing this is the last time she’s doing it!” Jack grunts as he wraps his hands around Amara’s front and brings her flush against his hard chest. He dips his head down, planting a few kisses on her hair.

“But what about the playoffs?” Luke’s brows shot up in well-played confusion, and with a pout on his lips.

“No-”

“The games you’ll play here, I’ll be standing at this spot waiting for you!” Amara grins at him and bumps his fist.

Cheers interrupt in the locker room, as Amara laughs at them and Jack frowns. He doesn’t like that his girl is kissing other men.

“Oh, come on, babe. You know I love you. They are like family to me.” She murmurs in his hand and brings it to her lips to kiss his knuckles.

“I love you, too, Berry.”

“Okay, fellas!” Coach Keefe shouts as he walks inside the locker room, stopping in his tracks as he sees Jack and Amara. “Jack, Amara, hello,” he smiles at them, shaking their hands as a greeting.

“Sir,” Amara smiles back at him, before hiding in Jack’s chest.

“Anyway! Time for you to hit the ice, fellas!”

With shouting and high-fives, the Devil’s leave their locker room and Amara with Jack make their way back to their seats to watch the game.

“So, what’s for dinner tonight?” Jack asks, caressing Amara’s thigh as she watches the game and crochets yet another summer dress.

“Ah, not sure.” She shrugs, looking at him for a second. “Was thinking about salmon and fries or chicken wraps,” she adds. “But maybe I’ll wait for Luke to tell me what he’d like to eat.”

“Oh, Luke will eat everything you cook,” he chuckles, but the smile fades away when one of the Rangers shoots on the net. But Jacob, being the best goalie, saves it, and the game continues. “So don’t worry about him. More like what you’d like to eat.”

“I don’t know, I’m not really hungry or in the mood to eat,” she sighs, her gaze not leaving the ice, as the Devil’s moves toward the Rangers’ net. Timo makes a shot on the net, but the Rangers’ goalie saves it, and the sound of the whistle rings through the arena.

“Did you eat today?” he asks with a sigh and stands up, ready to get them some food.

Amara looks at him with a guilty smile and shakes her head. It’s hard for her with her ADHD to remember to take care of herself, and Jack knows it.

“I’ll bring you something to eat,” he says, shaking his head at her, leaving for the family room with food. He fills their plates with shrimps, vegetables, grilled potatoes, and mushrooms, smiling when he spots chicken nuggets.

Putting some on Amara’s plate, he leaves the room and returns to his seat. His eyes are glued on a guy, standing next to Amara, who doesn’t even care to hide how he’s checking her out.

His grip tightens around the plates as he reaches them and leans down to kiss the crown of Amara’s head.

“Got your food, baby,” he smiles at her, his eyes searching hers for something. He isn’t sure for what exactly, but for something.

“Thank you,” she mumbles back, reaching for his hand, interlocking their fingers. Amara then looks back at the guy, who is openly looking at her boobs. She clears her throat, earning his attention back.

Jack shrugs his jacket off, throwing it around her shoulder to shield her boobs from the guy's gaze.

“I guess you can go now,” Amara says, wrapping the jacket tightly around herself and looking back at Jack with a wide smile, taking the plate from him. “Oh, shrimps!” she exclaims happily, taking one in her mouth.

Jack smiles at her enthusiasm for shrimps, but his face tightens when he notices the guy still standing there.

“Need something else? Do you wanna sign something?” he asks, his brows knitted together in jealousy and confusion.

“Oh…ugh…no…sorry,” he stumbles over his words, jogging away.

“Who was it?” Jack asks, sitting back in his seat, taking a bite of the nugget.

“I have no idea. He just showed up, saying that my crocheting is cute.” She shrugged, her full attention now on her food and the game.

Jack just nods his head, relaxing in his seat and enjoying Amara’s presence and the game.

There are two remaining minutes of the last period, and every Devil’s fan is sitting on the edge of their seats. Devils lead by one, but Timo just got a two-minute penalty for slashing, and the Rangers look really happy about it.

They are now almost thirty seconds in the Devil’s defensive zone, attempting shot after shot on Jacob. But being the absolute king he is, he blocks every single one of them.

Jack grabs Amara’s hand when Trocheck skates towards the gate with a puck on his stick. Nico skates quickly to catch him, but it’s not helpful when he scores a goal a second later.

“Fuck,” Jack groans, falling back in his seat.

“They’ll win, don’t worry. They will score a goal in overtime. And if another kiss helps them, then I’ll be down there in a second.” Amara grins at him, bringing their interlocked hands to her mouth as she kisses the top of his hand.

“Yeah, let's go.” He stands up and lets Amara drag him down to the locker room. Coach is just giving the boys a speech when they get in, so when he’s done, Amara and Jack step in, grinning at them.

“Came to give you another good luck kiss.” She smiles shyly at them, watching carefully their reactions.

“Come here with them!” Luke yells, making grabby hands at Amara, causing giggles to slip from her mouth.

While Amara does her job of giving all of the Devils their lucky kiss, Jack talks with them and shares his ideas on how to play the next twenty minutes.

“Hey there, handsome,” Amara says in a flirtatious tone when she reaches Nico. Nico grins up at her as she stands between his legs. He places his hands on the back of her thighs, his eyes watching Jack.

It takes him a few seconds before he searches the room for Amara. But when Jack’s eyes land on Nico’s hands, which are lingering on the back of Amara’s thighs, he frowns.

“Is he looking?” she asks as giggles leave her mouth. She isn’t really sure why she wants to make him jealous; she’s just in the mood for jealous Jack and what will come as soon as they get home.

“Why are you even trying to make him jealous?” he asks, chuckling, when Jack's gaze doesn’t leave his hands.

“Probably want to rail him up,” she shrugs, turning her head to look at Jack with a sweet smile like nothing is happening. “You know, for tonight,” she wiggles her brows at Nico.

Nico makes a gagging sound, which makes her laugh even more.

“Okay, here’s your kiss,” she says, kissing his forehead. “You better win this, cap.”

“We will, Berry.”

“You done touching my girl?” A masculine arm wraps around Amara’s waist and pulls her away from Nico.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Hughes.” Nico grins at him.

“M’not jealous.” He denies.

“Okay, fellas! Let’s win this game!”

Cheering and the sound of a loud siren sound through the Prudential, as Dawson scores the winning goal.

Jack’s shouting in excitement, his not-injured hand curled around Amara’s shoulders, who is cheering with him.

“You really are our luck charm,” He shouts, bringing her in for a deep, passionate kiss. “Fuck I love you so much,” he groans in the kiss, but pulls away, not wanting people to stare at them. “But don’t think I don’t know what you were trying to do all night,” he frowns at her, causing giggles from her.

“I love you, too, Jacky,” she grins back at him, resting her head on Jack’s chest. “Let’s go to the locker rooms! I need to congratulate them!” she cheers, packing her crocheting, jumping up in place from happiness.

Jack doesn’t say anything, he just waits for Amara to pack her things before his hands sneak around her waist, so she doesn’t run from him too far, especially with thousands of people leaving the arena.

Moving his hand to her wrist, he interlocks their fingers and leads her to the locker room. When they arrive five minutes later, music blasts through the room, some of the boys are changing, a few of them are doing interviews, and the rest are just enjoying the atmosphere.

“Luck charm!!” Cody yells when he catches a glimpse of Amara’s long, dark hair at the entrance.

“Congratulations! I am so proud of all of you!” she shouts, hugging Cody tightly. Even though he’s been in Jersey for only a month, he took a spot in her heart.

“Thanks, Ara,” he murmurs, pulling away only for her to be pulled in a chain of hugs from the rest of the boys.

She congratulates every single one of them, praises them on how good they did, and just enjoys their presence.

“You coming to the bar?” Timo asks Jack as he comes out of the showers.

“Uhh,” Jack looks at Amara, who has a tired smile plastered on her lips. “I think we’ll head home. Amara looks tired, and my shoulder is starting to hurt a bit.” He explains, rubbing his shoulder in the process.

Timo nods his head, drying his hair with the towel.

“But you’ll come tomorrow for dinner, right?” Nico asks, pulling on his dress pants.

“Yeah, we will,” Jack turns around, noticing his girl standing behind him. “What am I supposed to bring?”

“Well, you don’t have to bring anything, but if you wouldn’t mind helping me with the food?” he asks with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” she grins.

“Now c’mere!” Nico and Timo pull her in a hug, giving her kisses on the cheeks.

“Thank you for the kisses.” Nico grins at her.

“Whenever you need one.” She wiggles her brows.

“You are such a tease.” Jack grunts, smacking Amara’s ass.

“But you love me.” She nudges him.

“Yeah, I do.”

“And I love you!” Luke shouts, throwing his hands around their shoulders. Grinning Jack looks over at Amara with so much love and pride. She just won them another game.

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amara-eilish · 6 months ago

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can you write a fic based on billie wanting to film r and her having sex (but like with sub!top!billie pleassee) i love ur work and i'm sooo happy ur backkkk

kind of not proofread sorry!

"but baby what am i gonna do so far away from you!" billie says in front of you. the both of you were both lying in bed while billie brushed her fingers through your hair. billie had just brought up the fact that the two of you were going to go without sex for 2 months on her first leg of tour.

you laughed at how much she needed you but brushed off the topic. the topic changed, and the two of you talked about random things before it got quiet. you could hear billie's breathing getting heavier.

"what's wrong pretty? what's got your head thinking so hard?" you ask

billie smiled softly, "i want to record us, make a video. something to keep me company when i'm missing you." her eyes sparkled with joy and you could see how much she wanted it. " a video, hm?"

your voice was quiet as you whispered in her ear softly running your fingers down her back. "what kind of video do you want to film sweet girl?"

billie whined burying her head in your neck, "you know what i mean baby" she mumbled.

"do i? can you remind me baby?" you tease.

"wanna film us having sex," billie whispers clawing at your clothes.

you laugh quietly and nod at her to go set up the camera. she shot up quickly running to set it up.

she propped the phone up on the bedside table, angling it to capture the entire bed, ensuring everything would be captured. the camera lens stared back at them, a silent witness to the scene about to unfold.

"gonna show you what a good girl i am for you" billie says excitedly. "yeah? gonna be good for me?" you breathe out in anticipation.

your breath caught as billie's lips brushed against your core. the feeling of billie's tongue sending shivers through your body. your back arched, pushing your hips upwards, as she ate you out. billie's mouth was relentless, her tongue flicking and probing, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

"fuck baby" you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. "doing so good f'me, making me feel so good, pretty."

billie's moaned at the praise, the vibrations adding to the pleasure. she could get drunk off the taste of you and bathed your continuous praise.

as your moans grew louder, billie slipped two fingers inside curling them to find that sweet spot that would send you over the edge. your body tensed, muscles clenching around billie's fingers as you cried out in release.

"yesss baby. so good for me always. always been my good girl" your voice echoed through the room, pushing billie to continue, savoring the taste of your orgasm.

billie crawled up your body, leaving a trail of kisses along your chest. before kissing your lips passionately.

you laughed, a playful glint in your eyes. "can't wait to watch it back. maybe we should make a few more, just to be sure."

tags: updating my tag list let me know if you want to be added!

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msprincesssugar · 2 months ago

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Your f/o pulls you close, their arms wrapping around you as if you were made to fit there. Their touch is gentle but sure, like they have been waiting forever just to hold you. They look at you as if you are the only thing in the world that matters, eyes full of warmth, admiration, and a love so deep it makes your chest ache in the sweetest way. When they whisper your name, it sounds like a promise, and when they kiss you, the whole world fades until there is only the two of you, wrapped up in something endless and breathtaking.

#☆ . amara writes #selfshipper #selfshipping #selfship #self insert #selfship community #f/o #fictional other #romantic selfship #selfship fluff #selfship thoughts #selfship safe place #proship dni #reader x character #f/o imagines #f/o community

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watermelongirl01 · 2 months ago

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Sweet Rescue - 05

Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: SMUT, Fluff, fluff lots of fluff, and a tiny bit of angst.

A/N: Soo, you're going to need to buckle up cause after this chapter, a lot of your questions are going to be answered.

Sweet Rescue Masterlist

It was past closing time, and you were focused on the bowl in front of you, whipping the mixture with more determination than patience. You were looking for the perfect shade of pink for the final dozen macarons, the same ones you’d nearly forgotten to bake.

Three failed attempts surrounded you. The first batch was too bold, practically neon. The second was far too fuchsia. The third? Technically fine, but your tired eyes didn’t let you see it.

You were so deep in your head that you nearly screamed when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“It’s me, sweetheart,” Dean’s raspy voice whispered against your ear.

You exhaled hard, a mixture of relief and weariness. You had been dating for six months now, so this kind of late-night or early-morning visit wasn’t unusual. More often than not, after his shift at the firehouse, instead of heading home with Sam, he’d ask his brother to drop him off at your place.

He once told you that falling asleep next to you after a long shift was all he needed. After enough early mornings spent shuffling to the door in pajamas, you gave him a key of his own.

It had surprised both Charlie and Donna when they found out, especially since only four sets of keys existed for the place. Not because they doubted the relationship, but because that key didn’t just unlock your apartment. It opened the bakery, too. No one who wasn’t staff had ever been trusted with it.

That was the moment they realized: Dean wasn’t just passing through your life. He was planted firmly in your heart.

“How late is it?” you murmured, still not turning from the bowl.

“Very,” he said, pressing soft kisses to your shoulders. “It’s 6:30 a.m.”

“Shit,” you groaned. “I lost track of time.”

“Come back to bed. Let’s get a few hours of sleep, huh?”

“I can’t. I need to finish this. I can’t get the pink right.”

Dean gently turned you around, his hands firm but tender. “Sweetheart, you’re not going to get it right like this, not when you're this sleep deprived. Finish it tomorrow.”

You sighed. “Dean…”

He laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s go.”

And just like that, you let him lead you out of the kitchen, the pull of his hand and the warmth of his presence enough to remind you that perfection could wait.

This wasn’t the first time Dean had led you to bed like this. After months together, he’d found you in this state at least four times, exhausted, dusted with flour, lost in your own perfectionism. And every time, he’d scoop you up from your work, guide you to bed, and hold you close until you fall asleep.

But tonight, he paused with a soft chuckle, brushing a stray bit of white powder from your hair.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got flour all over. You need a shower first.”

“It’s almond flour,” you mumbled, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Still flour,” he smiled, brushing a kiss over your temple.

Without another word, he took your hand and led you into the bathroom. There, he gently untied your apron and let it fall to the floor. Then, he peeled away each layer of clothing, his fingers slow and careful, as if undressing you was an act of devotion, not just habit.

You didn’t say a word. You didn’t need to. Your gaze followed his every move, soft and full of trust and love.

Dean turned on the water, one hand hovering under the stream until it was just right. He looked back at you with that boyish grin you’d come to adore.

“Step in, baby.”

You loved it when he called you baby. At first, you weren't so sure about sharing the nickname with his beloved car, but the truth is that you melt every time he calls you that.

You stepped into the warm water, letting it soak through your hair, washing away the tension in your muscles and the weight of another sleepless night. A sigh slipped from your lips.

“Are you joining?” you asked.

His voice was quiet. “If you want me to.”

You reached out, palm open and waiting. He didn’t hesitate. Dean shed his clothes quickly, taking your hand in his, a beautiful contrast of calloused roughness against your softness.

You expected him to adjust the water temperature like he always did, claiming it was “too hot.” But instead, he reached for your favorite shampoo, the one that smelled like wild berries. The one he secretly used sometimes, just to feel close to you.

He squeezed a generous amount into his hand and gently turned you so your back was to him, your face toward the warm stream. Without a word, he lathered your hair, massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. His fingers worked tenderly, tangling in your hair, easing the day from your mind. A quiet moan escaped you.

“Dean…”

He hummed in response, soft and content. His hands rinsed through your hair, taking the last traces of flour and fatigue with them. When he was done, he didn’t pull away. Instead, his lips found your shoulder, pressing warm kisses along your damp skin, lingering at the base of your neck.

“Dean…” you breathed again, your voice no louder than the water trickling over you both.

He smiled against your skin and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you gently back into his chest. And for a moment, the world was just this: his touch, your heartbeat, and the steam around your bodies.

You leaned into him, your back pressed against his chest as his arms wrapped around you with quiet strength. The water poured down your bodies, warm and steady, but it was his touch that made your skin shiver.

His lips moved slowly up your neck, to the curve of your jaw, then just below your ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, like it was a secret he couldn’t hold in anymore.

You turned in his arms, facing him, your hands resting on the solid line of his chest. His eyes were on you, steady and soft, full of something deeper than desire. But still, the heat in his gaze was unmistakable.

Your lips met his slowly, tenderly, but aching with something simmering just beneath the surface. His hand cupped your cheek as he kissed you like he wanted to memorize the shape of your mouth, the taste of you. Your fingers slipped into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as your bodies pressed flush under the cascade of water.

His mouth left yours only to trail lower, kissing a path down your throat, across your collarbone, tasting the droplets that clung to your skin. Your breath hitched when his hands moved, strong and deliberate, sliding along the curve of your waist, down over your hips, then back up again, taking his time as though he had all the time in the world.

“Dean…” You barely got his name out before his lips captured yours again, more urgent now. His hands gripped your thighs, and in one swift, fluid motion, he lifted you, guiding your back against the shower wall. You wrapped your legs around him instinctively, gasping as the heat of his body pressed fully into yours.

Water rushed around you, your skin slick and glistening, but nothing felt as overwhelming as the way he looked at you, like you were everything. His thumb brushed along your lower lip as he caught his breath.

“You want this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rough, his forehead resting against yours. Even now, even here, he wanted to be sure.

You nodded, your voice breathless but steady. “I need you.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, claiming every sound you made as your hands gripped his shoulders. Your moans echoed off the tiled walls, mixing with the hum of the water and the rhythm of your bodies moving together, every motion soaked in urgency, intimacy, and need.

The second your body touched the mattress, exhaustion swept over you like a wave. Your eyes fluttered shut, heavy and unwilling to stay open.

Dean slipped in beside you, pulling the covers over both of you and wrapping an arm protectively around your waist.

“I love you,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Dean froze.

For a second, he wondered if you were talking in your sleep. But then you shifted closer, pressing your cheek against his chest, your fingers curling gently into the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, so soft it nearly got lost in the quiet. “You don’t have to say it back… just wanted you to know.”

And then you were gone, fully asleep, tucked into him

He swallowed hard, guilt and warmth tangling together in his chest. He wanted to say it. God, he wanted to say it. But something locked him in place, fear, maybe. Of messing it up. Of not being good enough.

So instead, he just held you tighter, resting his cheek against your head and closing his eyes.

And he stayed like that, holding on to you like a lifeline, letting your love settle over him, even if he wasn’t ready to speak it back. Not yet.

————————————————————————

The next morning, Dean was woken up by the sound of your apartment’s door opening. He looked to his side, watching the big 10:00 am on the clock. You were still soundly asleep and snuggled into his chest, and he already had an idea of who that might be.

He carefully exited your embrace, not wanting to wake you up, and walked out of the bedroom to greet the redhead intruder.

“What a surprise, an almost naked firefighter.” Her hand immediately covered her eyes.

“Oh, what a surprise, a nosy redhead.”

“I was concerned about my boss.”

“She’s sleeping now, she went to bed a few hours ago.” Dean explained.

Charlie lowered her hand to fully see Dean and narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m about to say something, but don’t let this get over your head.”

Dean's eyebrows lifted while he looked at her expectantly, silently inviting her to continue.

“I’m…” Charlie’s trailed her words so fast that Dean didn’t quite catch what she was saying.

“What was that?” He smirked while holding a hand next to his ear.

Oh, he did understand what Charlie said, he just wanted to hear it a little more loudly and articulately.

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m glad she has you in her life.” But she gave him a sincere smile.

Dean smiled back. “It’s almost like it pains you to say something nice about me.”

“It doesn’t, but you did steal my best friend, so there’s still a little grudge in there.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, today I'll be the best, best friend you can ever have.”

Charlie frowned when Dean took her downstairs to the bakery and reached down to the cabinet to grab an apron.

“Oh no.”

“Yep.” Dean turned to her, wearing a pink apron with the logo of your bakery on it, commonly used by your employees. “I’ll be your boss for this morning.”

“Nope, I’ll be your boss.” She pointed to herself. “But I appreciate the effort.”

“Fine.” Dean said, holding both of his hands up.

“And you are banned from the kitchen.”

“That’s just mean.”

————————————————————————

You woke up around 1:00 PM, the empty, cool sheets beside you triggering a pang of panic. You sat up abruptly, heart racing, as the realization hit, you’d overslept. Horribly.

Where the hell was Dean? And why hadn’t anyone woken you?

You scrambled out of bed, throwing on the first sundress you found and slipping into the heels that were still scattered across the floor from the night before. Your hair went into a messy ponytail as you hurried downstairs, only to pause at the sound of two very familiar voices bickering from the bakery.

“Dean, stop eating the cookies and help the customer!”

“I am helping. The cookies are just... part of the process.”

“You’ve had five, Dean. We’ll be out by the afternoon!”

“It is the afternoon, Charlie. Ever heard of a clock?”

You couldn’t help but smile, the chaos strangely comforting. You leaned on the doorway, watching the playful banter unfold for a moment before speaking up.

“Then I guess I'd better start baking more cookies.”

Charlie practically sagged with relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Dean turned at the sound of your voice and lit up instantly. “Sweetheart, you’re awake.”

He crossed the space to you in seconds, grinning as his eyes trailed over you. “And you look amazing in that apron.” You laughed softly, and Dean swore, just like every other time that your laugh was his favorite sound in the whole damn world.

He cupped your face gently, brushing his thumbs across your cheeks before pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It was brief, but lingering.

When he pulled back, you smiled against his touch. “Well, I’m here now,” you said brightly.

Dean didn’t move away right away. He just watched you, like he still couldn’t believe you were his.

“I missed you,” he said under his breath, just for you to hear.

You nudged his chest playfully. “You saw me this morning.”

“Not the same,” he murmured, pulling you back in for another kiss.

————————————————————————

Thanks to the extra hours of sleep your boyfriend insisted you take, you’d managed to catch up on all your orders just in time, including the cake tasting for an upcoming wedding.

“So?” You smiled, watching the couple in front of you closely. “What do you think?”

“This is so good. I seriously can’t decide,” Meg said, licking a bit of frosting from her thumb.

“I have to say... the carrot cake is my favorite,” Castiel chimed in, smiling softly.

Meg turned to him. “Seriously?”

Dean, mouth full of that very same cake, nodded. “Of course you'd pick that one.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shrugged like it was obvious. “You’re an old man, Cas.”

“Carrot cake isn’t just for old people,” Cas huffed, clearly offended.

You grinned. “It’s my favorite, too.”

“Baby, your favorite band is ABBA, of course, carrot cake is your favorite.”

You gave him a dramatic frown, but then nodded. “Fair.” You chuckled and reached behind the counter. “Last flavor.”

You placed three plates of coconut cake slices in front of them. Meg took a bite, her eyes lighting up instantly. You stiffened for a moment, not sure what the expression meant, until she smiled.

“I think this is it,” she said, looking at Cas, who nodded in agreement.

“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice soft as he looked at her.

They exchanged a quiet knowing look, one of those moments where they could practically see their future. Sharing cake. Dancing. Saying “I do.”

Dean cleared his throat. “I also like it and approve,” he added, finishing his slice.

Meg blinked at him. “Wait, what are you doing here again?”

“I work here,” he said with complete seriousness, gesturing proudly to the flour-dusted apron he was wearing. “Can’t you see the uniform?”

You laughed, reaching for Dean’s hand. “He covered for me today. I was going crazy, and he stepped in.”

“The way you can trust Dean surrounded by all this pie… It’s beyond me,” Cas muttered. “I think I might need to check your head again.”

Dean smirked. “Please, I’m a professional.”

“Professionally stealing samples?” Meg quipped.

“You gotta taste the product to sell the product,” Dean said with a wink.

————————————————————————

Cas and Meg had stayed a few more hours, going over cake decorations and tiny details until they finally left around 8:00 p.m., just in time for you to close the bakery and enjoy the quiet comfort of your place with Dean.

You wandered into the living room where he was sprawled out on the couch, nursing a beer and watching TV with his legs comfortably stretched out.

“I’m gonna cook dinner tonight,” you said, standing in front of him.

Dean looked up at you, brow raised. “But I cook dinner every night. That’s my thing.”

You smiled and stepped a little closer. “You did a lot for me today, baby. Let me return the favor.”

Dean's lips tugged into a small smile. “Well, what can I say? Gotta keep my ‘Boyfriend of the Year’ title.”

You let out a quiet laugh and shook your head. “I’m serious, though. You didn’t have to help like you did, but you did anyway, and it meant the world to me.”

He set his beer down and looked at you with that soft gaze he reserved just for you. “Sweetheart, you bake pie for me every day. And after every crappy shift, you somehow know exactly what I need. Taking over for a few hours? That’s the least I could do.”

You leaned in closer, voice dropping a little. “Still... I’m thinking of a few ways I could say thank you.”

Dean tilted his head. “You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I really, really want to.”

Before he could respond, you slid between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as you leaned down and kissed him, slow, intentional.

His lips tasted like beer and comfort.

Your tongue teased his, and Dean didn’t hesitate to deepen it, his dominance always familiar. His left hand gripped your waist with a firmness that sent a shiver through you, fingertips digging into your skin. His right hand slid lower, squeezing your ass, pulling you closer into him.

You gasped softly against his lips, and he used the moment to take control again, groaning into your mouth.

“Dinner can wait,” he muttered, voice gravelly, breath hot against your skin.

You grinned. “Good. I was never really planning to cook.”

Your hand traveled between your bodies, trailing down his chest until finding its way to his crotch. You used both of your hands to unbuckle his jeans, granting you access to rub his boner over his boxers.

Your mouth never left his as you pull his underwear down and release his big and hard boner. Your hand immediately took over and started stroking him. Dean’s mouth opened, letting a gentle moan leave, and you used your leverage to dominate the kiss again.

You left a short kiss on Dean's lips and slowly backed down onto your knees. He slightly straightened in his seat while his eyes were fixed on your pretty face.

Dean’s head instantly was thrown back on the sofa’s backrest when he felt the warmth of your mouth surrounding him.

“Oh fuck.” He whispered, placing his hands on the back of your head. “So fucking good, baby.”

You sped up your movements, bopping your head up and down.

“You’re doing so well, baby.” He mumbled as his fingers ran through your hair.

You took more and more of his length while your hand kept stroking what you couldn’t reach yet.

“I’m close, baby.” He whispered, and his legs began to tense up.

His hands slightly pulled your hair to warn you, but you groaned, dismissing him. Dean’s eyes closed as he reached his orgasm, and you felt content as you took him in your mouth and swallowed.

“You are so good to me, sweetheart.”

After that, Dean couldn’t just leave it like that. You were so good to him, and he rewarded you at least four times that night. It was slow this time, no rush, no urgency. Just hands and mouths and the messy moans that slipped from your lips.

The next morning, although you woke up with an empty bed, knowing Dean was already on shift, your kitchen table awaited you with a plate of pancakes and a note.

“Good morning, sweetheart

See you tomorrow.

Can't wait to kiss you later.”

-Boyfriend of the year.

You smiled to yourself as you ate the breakfast he left for you and started your day with a perky attitude.

————————————————————————

The bakery bustled with its usual morning chaos, customers grabbing coffee to fuel their day, donuts to lift the mood at morning meetings, and cupcakes for a last-minute peace offerings. A few moms rushed in to pick up full-size cakes, clearly forgetting about their child’s school bake sale until the last second.

There was always something for everyone, sweetness tailored to every mood, every moment, every person who walked through the door.

But that morning, someone stepped in with an energy that didn’t match the rest.

“Welcome! What can I get you?” Charlie greeted cheerfully as you focused on sealing up the morning’s delivery pink box labeled “Fire Station 67” in your handwriting.

“I’m looking for an apple pie for my husband,” the woman said, her tone light, but sharp in a way you couldn’t quite place. “I just got back into town and want to surprise him.”

“Oh, you’re in luck,” Charlie began, then paused. “Actually… not quite. They're still in the oven.”

You turned from the counter to glance at the customer and offered a polite, apologetic smile. “They’ll be ready soon, though. We can have one aside or delivered if you’d like.”

The woman tilted her head, eyeing you with a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. “You do deliveries?”

You nodded and slid a form across the counter. “Just write down your name and address. We’ll make sure it gets to you fresh.”

She took the form and pen with slow, deliberate movements. “Lucky me.” Her gaze flicked toward the box you’d just finished labeling. “Fire Station 67?” she asked, a hint of curiosity or maybe amusement in her voice. “What a coincidence. My husband works there.”

Your fingers stilled on the ribbon you were about to tie.

Charlie, ever friendly, chimed in before you could respond. “Yeah! They saved my boss.” She pointed at you with a proud smile. “So now we spoil them in return.”

“If you want me to, I can deliver it for you guys, I’m heading there anyway.” She handed you back the form.

The woman’s gaze landed on you again, heavy, like she was watching for a reaction. She handed the form back across the counter.

Something in her tone made your fingers hesitate as you reached for the paper. That smile again, cool, unreadable, like she knew a secret you didn’t know yet.

“Oh, we already have a regular arrangement,” Charlie said easily. “Dean comes by to pick them up most mornings.”

“Dean Winchester?” the woman repeated, her gaze locked on you now, unreadable.

You felt your stomach dip.

“Yes, the very same,” Charlie replied, her voice losing a bit of its cheer.

Your eyes drifted to the form in your hand and froze.

Amara Winchester.

Your chest tightened. The name echoed in your head like a warning bell. You barely heard her next words over the thundering of your heart.

She chuckled, “Isn’t destiny big, and this city small?”

Charlie looked at you, sensing something had shifted. Her eyes flicked between you and the woman as a heavy silence fell between the three of you.

You looked up, and her eyes were already looking at you, locking on like a predator sizing up its prey.

Then came the smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, it wasn’t warm or polite. It was knowing. And a little cruel. She leaned in and looked directly at you, never blinking.

“I’m Dean Winchester's wife.”

She said it as if she were claiming something, not just stating a fact, but planting a flag. And she wanted you to see it. She wanted you to feel it.

Charlie’s brows pulled together sharply, her body shifting closer to you. She glanced between you and the stranger with a quiet wariness.

But you couldn’t move.

PLEASE, Pleaseee let me know if you already saw this coming, I want to know your reactions.

Taglist: @aylacavebear @deans-baby-momma @ladysparkles78 @spxideyver @lunaleah @muhahaha303 @charismatic-writer @deansimpalababy @spnaquakindgdom @globetrotter28 @vsplanet

@narcissustulip @formulas-bitch @mandee7 @bollzinurmouth @screaming-les-bean @stoneyggirl2

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cialovesklopp · 2 years ago

Text

une journée a trois ➻ k.mbappe

summary – they had always been two. but now that they were about to be three, they were starting a new journee. the path of parenthood. ah, the joy of pregnancy

pairing – kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

warnings – a somewhat detailed description of childbirth, pregnancy, mentions of morning sickness, labor, breastfeeding

word count — 10.1k

author's note – i guess this is my last official chapter for the mon amour series before i am officially starting my trent fic and the first spin off to this series. i will also be taking mon amour to wattpad where i'll add some more social media since here it came a bit short. there will be a lot of redecorating for my fics in the next time. as a heads-up: i don't know anything about childbirth, my entire knowledge is from google so i am very sorry if i got something wrong. hope you enjoy <3

( masterlist )

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. she liked to have her life planned out to the finest detail. she wasn’t organized to the smallest but she liked to live her life in a certain order. so this was not supposed to happen now. there was no in-between for her situation. either women were happy or their lives were destroyed right now. and yet she found herself between the two scenarios.

she had been careful. she had put her career first and it had worked in every damn relationship she had ever had (which had not been a lot). she had made it clear that the success of her career was the most important thing and after the whole evan fiasco, she had sworn to herself that no matter how many times she fell in love, she would never lose sight again of her priorities. and it had worked till now.

it was a small mistake that led to her situation now. a moment of a certain emotional weakness that was the reason why she found herself in the bathroom on the floor with her back leaning against the bathtub as she stared into nothing.

kylian had introduced her to a new world of love. one where longing became sometimes too hard and the moment they found each other again, all rational thoughts were thrown out the window. he had shown her what love really felt like and that it was so much more than just endless fights and screaming matches. so… of course she had lost sights of her priorities and acted after her emotions when her heart had missed him too much.

her situation resulted from a sudden stay in the same city. he had been there to play an important match, she had two nights in that same city to tour and overwhelm her fans with her music. it had been three months that they hadn’t seen each other in person so the moment they had known they were at the same place, all sane thoughts had been thrown out the window. they had missed each other too much to even think about anything else than be close again. feel the other again. and now, not even two months later, she found herself on the floor in the bathroom with a stick in her hand. a small piece of plastic that held the weight of the world. two small blue lines that seemed to throw everything out of order. there seemed to be life growing inside of her now.

she wasn’t crying but rather staring into the air. her eyes held no emotion as she held the positive test in her hands. somehow it didn’t seem to set in that she carried life now in her body. that someone was breathing inside her and had their own heartbeat. it appeared surreal to her. the realization that one of her biggest fears had become true.

amara didn’t fear his reaction. that was probably the least of her problems. he had always expressed his desire for children, no matter at which point in his career he would be. he would support her, no matter what. she was the problem.

there had been warnings for this situation. women with so much potential that had been destroyed or ruined because of a child. and it wasn’t just an empty warning. she had seen it with her own eyes. linda, evan’s mother, had been the proof she had needed. a beautiful woman, beautiful and intelligent — a cunning lawyer who was at the peak of her career. but her pregnancy had ruined her and had turned her into a housewife. the vision, evan had always had of her. being pregnant just before she was about to start the second leg of her tour was the most unfortunate moment, this little gift could have come. it threw all plans out of the window.

she absolutely did not want to become one of those women who were at the peak of their career and then got it ruined by an unplanned pregnancy. it was her biggest fear. especially because she was living on the high of it at the moment. everything was going well, — she was breaking record after record — and now everything was about to stop. because she knew she would never bring it over her heart to kill the small human that seemed to be growing in her. it was a part of her now. and she could never take that decision alone.

time passed and she still found herself in the same position, her mind still processing the news. she didn’t notice kylian coming home from training and calling her name. her senses picked up his smell and noticed his presence but her brain felt disconnected to the outside world. her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting and complicated thoughts she just couldn’t work through.

if he was surprised to find her in the bathroom, he didn’t show it. kylian called her name but there was no response except an occasional small hum. the room felt smaller and the atmosphere was uncomfortable with the big news looming over them.

“cherié, tout va bien?” he asked her softly, eyes filled with worry as he kneeled a bit down and remarked how hers seemed to just stare into nowhere with a numb expression in them. she didn’t find the strength in herself to say her fears out. it was paralyzing her from deeply inside and forming a big lump in her throat that prevented her from being vocal. instead she only handed him the positive test, the two lines glowing dimly under the bathroom light. — honey, is everything okay

there was a confused expression on his face that turned into a mix of shock and slight happiness. but any emotion disappeared when he was met with her expression. “this is a surprise,” he said out loud and turned towards her. “are you happy?” his question hung in the air but she couldn’t find an answer.

“i don’t know. i don’t know what i’m going to do.” she admitted, her voice quiet. there was a certain nervousness and fear that underlined her voice, portraying the weight that she carried on her shoulders now. there were so many possibilities and challenges, so many hills and rocks they would have to climb now. she wished she was fearless like all the other women that were over the moon when they got the positive news.

“i was about to leave for a whole year. the second part of my tour is starting in a month. and now i’m…” her throat became dry as the lump became bigger. the words seemed stuck, as if speaking them out would actually make it real. “i’m pregnant.”

she didn’t have to say more for kylian to understand her. that’s just how they were. he seemed to comprehend that she wasn’t mad at the pregnancy. after all, she adored children. she was amazing with them and they both knew they wanted kids. she just feared the impact it could have on her career.

“je ne sais pas quoi faire,” she mumbled under her breath, her lips barely moving. “it wasn’t supposed to happen now. everything was going soo… well, i guess. i don’t want it to end. i don’t want to lose my career.” — i don’t know what to do

he let out a sigh, his back sliding down the wall as he sat down next to her. one hand still held the positive test while the other wrapped around his girlfriend’s waist, pulling her closer to him. “why would this ruin your career? you’re the most successful artist i know. nothing could ruin this now.”

“you’re supposed to say that. but you haven’t seen that pregnancy does to women. i don’t want my career to be ruined, not with the way the world treats women. how am i supposed to be a good mum and a successful woman in the music industry?” she shook her head and put it down on his shoulder, resting it there. she appreciated his efforts to comfort her but he was a man— they would never truly understand a woman’s suffering, no matter how hard they tried.

“we could stay home both if you want that. i take a break from football and i could be home for the both of you,” he suggested and amara looked at him incredulously. it was strange for her how he had accepted it so quickly already, that they were about to be three while she still struggled to comprehend the situation.

she shook her head firmly. “i could never ask you to stop for me. i know how much you love football. it’s your life. this is a me-problem.”

“une grossese n’est pas un probleme d’une personne. tu n'es pas seule. je te promets que rien ne va se gâcher. ta carrière est remarquable est elle le sera toujours. no matter what you do,” he consoled her, pressing soft kisses on her temple. “je t’aime tellement. mais ça, c’est ta decision et tu es la seule avec le choix. soo… are you happy?” — a pregnancy is not a problem of one person. you’re not alone. i promise you, nothing is going to get ruined. your career is remarkable and will be

— i love you so much. but this is your decision and only you can take it.

she shrugged, the unexpected twist in her plans still burning through her mind. she just couldn’t understand how there was a small human being growing inside her now. something that was breathing inside her. even though it felt unreal — and all at once she knew what she was going to do. what she would have to do now. her world would revolve around that little human being now. and she would do everything in her power to love that little baby that was living inside her. even if it the feeling of surrealism would never truly leave her.

maybe her mind should have adapted to it by now but it still felt disconnected to the situation. as if she was living two lives now. they hadn’t told anyone yet, preferring to keep it their little secret for the moment. especially because they still hadn’t settled in on the idea of getting a family addition.

kylian had noticed her struggles. how she couldn’t work around it. he would find her sometimes in front of the mirror, staring at her stomach. and even then it looked like she still hadn’t made her peace with the situation. amara had come up with several excuses why she had been going softer on training and why she avoided her pr for the second leg of the tour so much at the moment. kylian seemed to have calmed her down a bit about the pregnancy but the fears and rocks it would bring still hadn’t been overcome. even more when she still didn’t feel a thorough connection to the baby in her stomach.

the first ultrasound had been their reality check. that whatever they had been dancing around, was actually happening. there was a grateful look in her eyes when kylian grabbed her hand while their doctor applied the cold gel on her. it was terrifying for her to say the least. their nurse was friendly, nice — she must have sensed amara’s nervousness with the way she had been trying to calm the singer down. it had been risky getting an appointment but kylian had made sure to be extra careful. to make sure that nothing would come out to the press. the least she needed right now was for the time that should’ve been the happiest in her life to be without any media presence.

hearing the heartbeat was a sharp reminder that they weren’t alone anymore. the sound appeared to be precise evidence of life within her, the real confirmation for her pregnancy. it was a new experience for them, a new chapter that was starting soon in their lives. the impending parenthood that was installing its way into their life. several emotions were rushing through them as they made contact for the first time with their baby. and yet, despite the huge importance of the moment, amara’s emotions refused to truly correspond to the situation because of a missing connection between her and the baby.

she looked at the ultrasound screens, her eyes specifically fixing the point the doctor had shown them was their baby. she was registering the moment but struggled to find an emotional place for it. and it wasn’t because amara didn’t love the growing human in her body enough. there was no lack of love or commitment. her brain was just going into panic mode and refused to acknowledge the incoming changes. an automatic self-defense response from her mind who thought it needed to protect her. because even if she knew her career was good, it didn’t take away her fear of having all of that ruined.

as the doctor left them to offer them some privacy, there seemed to be just them now and the sound of a heartbeat. amara didn’t have to look at kylian to know that his cheeks were probably hurting from smiling so much. that his eyes were probably a bit teary from hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child. his hand found hers and he subconsciously intertwined them, his mind still clouded by all the emotions running through his body. she smiled at him, happy to know that at least he seemed to be able to form a special memory with the moment. for her, everything still felt surreal.

and the feeling of it did not leave her, not even in the night.

they were in bed, cuddled together under blankets when amara suddenly woke up from a slight movement. she turned a bit to look at kylian but her boyfriend still seemed to sleep peacefully. as she felt it again, amara looked down and found kylian’s hand on her stomach. casually laying there all protectively. and somehow, it was exactly what she needed to realise that it would be okay.

a small smile formed on her face and she put her hand on her stomach too. this was going to happen and she would be prepared for it. she wasn’t sure whether babies could already hear but it was stronger than her. the urge to promise her baby the world.

“i don’t know whether i’m going to be a good mum to you,” she began softly, speaking low to not wake up kylian. “but i can promise you, you’ll be in good hands with your dad.” she chuckled, the thought of kylian playing with a small mini-him or mini-her exciting her. “i’m sorry that you’re stuck with a mum who doesn’t know what she wants. but i’m trying. i’m trying for you… to be the best version of myself that you’ll need.”

they began slowly, the changes. at first barely remarkable and now they were plainly obvious. life seemed to radiate from her. she possessed a kind of positive aura around her that even the blind could see. she had truly grown into the start of her pregnancy as she entered her second trimester.

amara found herself balancing her life before and during her pregnancy. she had to get used now to the fact that her body was adapting for the small human being in her stomach and that it included good and bad changes. she had overcome her struggles with the pregnancy and the lack of emotion she had had towards it. now she suddenly felt overwhelmed but happy. nearly excited to start this new chapter.

she was four months pregnant and with that also came the first differences that made this pregnancy real. that made it more than just a statement on a paper. a small, noticeable bump had formed on her stomach — it wasn’t very big but remarkably enough that it had made them nearly cry when they had seen it. now kylian’s hoodies had become her go-to attire to hide the small curve on her stomach. his sweatshirts engulfed her completely, serving as a comfortable shield for her womb and a cover up. after all, they still hadn’t told anyone and the little human growing in her body was still their secret.

and just as she progressed into her pregnancy, so did the unfortunate changes like morning sickness or strange food cravings. instead of spending her mornings in bed, spooning with her boyfriend, she now found herself hung over the toilet as soon as the sun came up, with kylian holding her hair. he whispered sweet encouragements and gentle circles which was now a habit for them every morning as she finished her first trimester to enter the second. it was exhausting, crucifying even and drained her. the doctor had told them it would stop soon but she found no change. she would just have to endure it.

even worse were the sudden food cravings. eating had already become hard enough with nothing staying in her body but her strange food cravings made it ten times worse. strawberries were her first sacrifice that came with nurturing life followed by sushi and chinese food. now even the slightest smell of take-out food had her running to the toilet. it was hard and what made it even more hard was the fact that she couldn’t ask anyone for advice other than her doctor.

they hadn’t told anyone of the pregnancy. she had canceled the second leg of her tour without any reason other than the “personal reasons” she had stated in her statement. it had been a heart-wrenching decision, stopping to travel around the world and illuminate people with her music but it was necessary. another sacrifice for her new life she was entering. they had left the world — including their own families — in the dark as they chose to live in their small pink bubble, far away from the harsh reality. amara would never admit it but she was glad. grateful that she didn’t have to share what was supposed to be the happiest time of her life with the world. she wanted it to be their private little moment.

pregnancy did not only change the way they lived. it changed them completely. amara knew kylian loved her but he had changed his love language. he had gone from sweet words and giving gifts to affection and touching her constantly. it had started small, with small caresses on her back and intertwining their hands subconsciously to gentle circles drawn on her hands now soft strokes. and most of them were always centered around her stomach. it was his new way of expressing his unconditional love that was now not only directed towards her but also towards the tiny life growing inside her. they had adapted to parenthood together and it made her fall in love even more.

especially when he talked to their small little miracle when he thought she was asleep. it had started as small confessions towards their baby and had turned into full one-sided conversations now. it warmed her heart when she listened to him, heard how he expressed some of his fears — that amara found were completely unreasonable— and talked about how excited he was. no matter which gender their little bundle of joy would have. only they mattered to them, her, him and the small unborn baby. their bubble was complete.

but the couple knew that their bubble would burst soon and they would rather be the ones to do it than an outsider. after spending one month at home, shielded from the outside, she had decided to come out. and her first official appearance was no other place than kylian’s match. her parents had surprised her with a visit and both knew, they couldn’t hide it any longer now. they hadn’t exactly spoken about a way they would announce it but it was clear that they would have to share it with their families now.

along with her parents she was seated in their usual reserved spots for the families of the players, next to them kylian’s parents and his brother with his children. she played with kylian’s nephew, bouncing him on her lap while her mind wandered off to thinking about how it would be in a few months. when she would be cheering him on with their small bundle of joy.

their eyes met and she watched his smile grow bigger as he spotted her with his nephew — no doubt, the same image of her with their baby was running through his mind. again, there was an overwhelming sense of pride and excitement. amara turned to her mother, who had redirected a question towards her, wondering why her daughter was glowing so positively. and all she could do was grin. they would know later.

though later appeared to be very close as their secrecy came to an end with the opening score. he had hit a beautiful goal after dribbling his way through the penalty area and instead of hitting his usual celebration, he went for the ball. there were shocked gasps around her along with a roar of cheer when he ran around with the ball under his shirt and sent a heart her way. everyone instantly put the pieces together — after all there weren’t many possibilities what it could signify — and immediately they all turned towards her.

“don’t tell me…” her mother trailed off in shock and amara nodded, grinning widely.

“surprise,” she exclaimed, a cheeky smile adorning her face. she lifted the sweatshirt a bit and revealed her four-month old belly that she had been hiding for the past month now.

fayza immediately pulled her into a hug, kissing amara’s temple gently. “félicitation ma fille. oh je suis tellement contente.” — congraulation, my daughter. i’m soo happy

one by one, they hugged her, all expressing their felicitations. even the others that were around to support their player on the pitch threw a happy congratulations towards her.

“how far along are you?” her father asked her, pulling his daughter in for another hug.

she smiled into the hug, the feeling of home spreading through her body. “nearly five months now. i finished my first trimester a few weeks ago.”

“now it makes sense why you couldn’t go out with me,” alice realized and amara sent a wink in her direction.

“how could you keep this from us?” her mother asked in a shocked tone, looking at her daughter incredulously. “amaghị m ma m ga-akụ gị maka idobere m ya ka ọ bụ naanị nwee obi ụtọ. ihe a abughi ihe i zonari nne gi ada.” — i don't know whether i'm supposed to hit you for keeping it from me or just be happy. this is not something you hide from your mother.

amara shrugged. “it was our little secret.”

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

amara.imani and k.mbappe

liked by liyah_clark, achrafhakimi and 26.304.752 others

amara.imani secret is finally out. the reason i had to cancel the second leg of my tour. i’ll back soon but in the meantime, baby imani-mbappé is coming

view all 293.753 comments

liyah_clark the audacity to not tell your best friends that we’re becoming aunts

graceywood can’t believe she hid it from us 😔, i think we don’t mean anything to her anymore

amara.imani I APOLOGIZED ALREADY

amara.imani i even told you the gender, what more do you want?

username project mbappe is officially starting

username man really said, i’m starting my own mini-me

psg félicitation a vous deux ❤️💙

equipedefrance félicitation de toute l'équipe de france

username news of the year

antogriezmann félicitation mon frère

sza i can’t waittttt

kipembe3 la bébé de la team va avoir un bébé, trop hâte

paulpogba kyks le daron, qui aurait cru

cynthia_e so excited to become an aunt to this angel

username please say sike

username i don’t wanna lose my (imaginal) wife

username omg now it makes sense why she was always spotted in sweatshirts

kehlani ohh i’m gonna be auntie kehlani soon 🥹

charles_leclerc new member to the amara imani squad

landonorris best news of the week

graceywood auntie grace is ready for her duties

liyah_clark auntie liyah and uncle charles report for duties too

username i’m not even mad anymore she canceled her tour

username fr, i’m too excited for this

achrafhakimi finally. it was so hard keeping it a secret and not telling you i knew

amara.imani how did you know?

achrafhakimi you never decline a glass of red wine

username omg they’re gonna be parents 🥹🥹

tchaga_ felicitations a vous deux. je vous souhaite le meilleur

k.mbappe 🫶🏾

the news had spread like a wildfire and even people who weren’t interested in the football or music industry knew that amara imani was pregnant. their names had been mentioned in every article for three weeks straight, wondering over the gender of the baby and when exactly it could maybe arrive. her phone was now silent everyday to drown out the constant vibrations of notifications. it was spammed with articles and posts mentioning her — everyone had something to say about her pregnancy.

even players she hadn’t ever interacted with had slid into her dms to wish her and kylian well. not to forget the french national team who had called to congratulate them as well. they had instantly launched a group call, to also include those who played overseas and wished their two friends well. everyone bombarded her with questions about the impending arrival of their baby — their new protégé as they liked to call it now. a warm feeling spread through her body as she thought about the way, their baby already had so many uncles that loved their coming bundle and would help them. they were a big family after all.

as she advanced in her pregnancy and her bump grew bigger, kylian also grew more protective around her. he didn’t allow her to lift a finger to do anything around the house anymore except go to pee. he cooked now and send his mother to drop off food when he was busy or away for a game. his chauffeur had now become something like their housekeeper, occasionally checking in on her when she was home alone. kylian had even hired her a personal shopper that would go shopping for her when she didn’t feel like online shopping. he was doing everything to protect her from doing too much.

and amara understood where he was coming from so she couldn’t even be mad at him. after their latest doctor’s appointment, where they had been told that there was a risk of giving birth prematurely, her own fears had reappeared again. they had never truly left her but now they were living in her brain again. her pregnancy had already been complicated with her uterus apparently refusing to grow to give the baby more space. she had been told it was a protective response of her body after a certain kind of trauma she must have endured — a trauma that her body now refused to live again so it took protective measures. she had been ordered two weeks of bed rest and after that, to do the most to go easy on her body. spare it from hard work.

seven months into what should have been the happiest time of her life and she found herself afraid of her own body and what could happen if she gave birth prematurely. she had worked through the fears concerning her career and now she would have to manage the fears of not being ready to give birth.

and adding to that fear that hovered over her now, pregnancy had also become harder for her. what had seemed to be a small curve before now looked like a midsized watermelon shoved into her stomach. the toll on her body became more prominent now — daily ingestions of vitamins, eating twice the amount of what pregnant women usually consumed — measures like that had become routines for her. she had been warned of a complicated pregnancy but none of what she had been told measured up to what she was feeling.

nonetheless, her pregnancy was also marked with good moments, happy moments where both just got ready for parenthood. moments that had put light on the situation they were living in at the moment. painting the room had been a day where they had created lots of memories they cherished. the singer had been visiting friends of hers who had been staying in the city of love and had come home to find kylian with a screwdriver in his hand while achraf was reading him the instructions for the crib.

“you’re supposed to put it like this.”

“i’m doing that. it won’t go in.”

the two hadn’t even noticed her arrival their focus laying purely on the crib. turned out, he had left training early and had dedicated the entire day to constructing the crib and getting the room finished. her heart had grown twice its size that day. there were so many memories they had already created in that room (looking past their messy make-out session because she was feeling horny) and painting the room of their coming bundle of joy was just an addition to that.

the realization of parenthood and their new addition to the family had somehow wriggled into their lives. during her first trimester, she had pushed the thought of pregnancy at the back of her head, hoping to procrastinate everything that concerned it. now she was excited for the arrival of their little bean and was planning each detail as finely as she could. they were navigating their way around it with the new flow of emotions they were experiencing. as she progressed and her bump became bigger, so got the question about the name their unborn child would carry. it was clear to both of them that their baby would not carry a double-name; they held no importance if the only place where they appeared was on official documents. they would settle on a single name their baby would be known through the world.

he had the entire world scream his name and wear it on their shirts to express their support for him, she had people sing her music all over the world and express themselves to it. both names carried big weighs all around the world and no matter which name it got, there would always be expectations that would have to be reached. yet she sensed that it was more important for him — the matter of the name. so they chose mbappé for their last name. but the problem of the forename still linged.

that’s how they found themselves awake in bed at four in the morning with the question of the name preventing them from sleeping (in addition to amara craving for tacos at two in the morning). they were surrounded by baby name books while their phones had websites for baby names open.

“what do we think of kylian mbappe jr?” he proposed jokingly, grinning at her as he stole another of her sweet potato fries.

she rolled her eyes. “of course, why not? and while we’re already at it, why not instantly start project mbappe and put it into the academy instantly after i give birth?”

he held his hands up on surrender. “it was just a suggestion.”

“a stupid one,” a small giggle left her lips as she declines his proposition. she was kind of glad that he wasn’t stressing so much about the pregnancy as much as she was now. one of them needed to be the easy parent and she knew it was just in her nature to be the stricter person.

“what about… malouanne ?” he read out loud from his phone which earned him a pillow thrown his way. “what? it’s a mix of the names marie, louise and anne. fits perfectly if you ask me.”

“as beautiful as the name may sound, do you want our kid to be bullied at school?” amara instantly retorted back, continuing to read in her book to find a name.

that was how they spend the night, searching for names that would fit their little human and create their identity. the question of the name was always a difficult one because somehow nothing seemed to fit. nothing was enough for their baby. they were looking for a name that just screamed their bundle of joy; that upon hearing it would immediately make them think of it.

“should we add a middle name?” he asked her, putting his phone down to look at her. his hand instantly placed itself on her stomach, stroking it gently. “should we give you a middle name,” he asked softly towards the stomach. a smile made its way on his face when he felt a kick at the spot where his hand laid and amara hissed slightly.

“i think we need a middle name,” kylian told her slyly. “our little bean clearly agrees with me.”

“they agrees on everything with you. i swear i have a daddy’s girl in my stomach.”

her boyfriend grinned at her, cradling her stomach. “well, they are their father’s child” his grin widened when he felt a kick again.

she shook her head in disbelief but knew he was right. bidding him goodnight and placing a last small kiss on his lips, she waltzed a bit around to find the perfect position to sleep in. with her belly growing, so did the matter of finding a good position to sleep in but the huge pregnancy pillow that kylian had bought her seemed to help. still it didn’t take away the ordeal of finding the position. she was nearly asleep, her mind already drifting away when kylian finally closed the books and turned off the light. his hand wrapped around her waist to feel closer to her as he got comfortable in bed.

she had nearly missed his suggestion, already dozing off when she heard his voice. it was barely above a whisper but loud enough to hear.

“i think ada would suit her perfectly as a middle name in case it’s a girl. the perfect mix of you. and you said you wanted to honor your mother.”

needless to say that she fell asleep with a smile on her face. one problem less now in what was supposed to be the happiest time of her life.

a sharp pain shot through her body. she had been seated on the couch, excitingly watching kylian play when suddenly all she could focus on was the feeling of agony that spread through her body. she tries to ignore it but it’s stronger than her. her hands immediately go down to hold her bump as she leans forward, pain rushing through her entire body and making it impossible to think. her mind is consumed with the feeling of crucifying agony and she can’t think of anything else.

as quick as it comes, it subsided again and she takes a deep breath, trying to regain her composure— before it starts all over again. her first thoughts are that she’s experiencing preparation labor — the famous braxton hicks, that her doctor had warned her of and that she had been victim to during her seventh month. but this pain felt different. the match had been long forgotten as she found herself on the floor, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. her body felt weak, too heavy for her to carry to even try to sit up. the salty substance of her eyes had already started to stain the white carpet and she was able to taste her tears. her eyes travel around the room, as she looks for her phone and desperation fills her as she sees it on the other side of the room, charging. she tries to get up, to at least manage to crawl to it but another pain prevented her.

her eyes close, too weak to have them open as soft sobs leave her trembling lips. she’s wallowing in pain, hoping that someone will find her; that kylian will come home soon. she had always been afraid of giving birth in bad conditions, especially as she was early and her due date was supposed to be in two weeks. her arms wrapped around her stomach as she tried to comfort herself by whispering sweet encouragements, hoping that they would at least help her calm down a bit. but the pain did not leave her.

she doesn’t know how long she’s suffering in agonizing pain when she suddenly hears the apartment door opening and someone entering. pearls of sweat are running down her forehead as she’s compressed to the floor, her arms hugging her belly close to her. the solitude had amplified her situation, made it worse as fears had taken over her mind; the fear of having to give birth alone. and she couldn’t be mad at kylian. after all, the due date was supposed to be in two weeks and even that was much earlier than expected. she tries to ignore the pain and at least try to lift her head to see who just came in but the waves of pain that stream through her body are stronger. like electric waves rushing through her body and hitting her everywhere.

it’s his driver that gives her a bit of hope again when she hears his voice. he immediately rushed towards her, kneeling down as he took in the scene.

“i don’t… i don’t want to give birth..” she managed to croak out, pain preventing her from speaking clearly. her voice was filled with agony as small sobs left her lips. "je veux kylian.” — i want kylian

there was no hesitation, no time to panic or doubt. she was sobbing as she tried to catch her breath while he swiftly retrieved his phone to dial the emergency services. while his other hand held the phone, the other was softly stroking her back, hoping to transfer some solace to her. a bystander would have interpreted the scene in front of them completely different but right now, it comforted amara. calmed her down knowing she wasn’t going through this alone anymore.

he also called kylian but he soon realized it was of little avail, when his eyes caught the screen where the camera had just zoomed on the french striker. the feeling of desperation now seemed to have caught onto him too as he quickly grabbed amara’s phone to place another urgent call. this time to his brother who had not been selected for the match. their call was not very long, only sharing the most important details. his heart lightened a bit when he saw the sudden substitution of kylian. but the feeling of relief was as quickly gone as it came when his eyes fell on the woman next to him, who seemed to take the pain harder with every second that passed.

staying conscious started to become hard for her. she felt a bit of relief when the medics had finally arrived, instantly carrying her to bring her to the closest hospital. but he was still not there and it freaked her out. she couldn’t give birth alone. not without him. there was chaos around her, several voices as she was rushed into the hospital and yet her brain only focused on one thought: she needed him here. she had been put into a private room to not attire a lot of attention as they were aware of her identity. they had told her she would soon be ready for the next phase of this journey but she didn’t want to start it. not without him so even though her body was killing her, she held onto the pain till he would be there.

they tried to calm her down as her contractions intensified but it was to no avail. she needed him to be there and hold her hand. be her sanctuary to guide her through her fears. every reassurance that was spoken to her didn’t mean anything to her cause they weren’t whispered by his lips. she wanted him and no one else.

kylian had instantly run to the changing rooms to get his things as soon as he had been informed of the news. there was confusion at first, when he suddenly saw his number on the changing boards but the small explanation from his coach was enough to suddenly hug enrique and rush out as quickly as possible.

there was no time to care about any traffic rules. she was more important. they were what mattered now. short messages had been sent to his families to inform them of the situation before he ran into the hospital, looking to support his girlfriend during this important moment. he didn’t care whether he hadn’t parked right or how many speed limits he had crossed, all he wanted was to hold amara’s hand.

from the reception desk he had instantly been taken to her room where he rushed to her and engulfed her into a close hug. he had seen her in so many states before but this was new to him. unknown territory like each time he went to play on an adversary’s side that he had never crossed paths with. his heart hurt as he took in her appearance; her face scrunched together because of the crucifying pain, the sweat pearls that rolled down her face along with her tears and the small sobs that left her trembling lips. amara was truly in pain.

“t’es- tu est la…” she managed to croak out before another sharp flash of pain shot through her, making her scream in agony. — you’re … here

he wiped her tears from her face and pressed a soft kiss onto her cheek, able to taste the salty taste of her tears. his heart broke as he thought about all the time she must have spent here without anyone close to her and in pain. she had always been scared of facing labor alone, just the thought of it made her doubt everything but he had always been able to calm her down. promises had been exchanged when she had longed for the reassurance that no matter what came, he would always be there for her— in this moment. she would never have to go through this alone.

“je suis venu le plus vite possible,” he mumbled, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. hoping that the solace and feeling of warmth the act usually transferred would calm her down a bit. she cried again, this time though she wasn’t sure whether it was due to his presence or the pain that her body had to endure at the moment. — i came as quick as possible

he lifted their intertwined hands to meet his lips and pressed a kiss on it. “je te l’avais promis. je serai là.” — i promised you. i will be there.

she nodded, another contraction hitting her and preventing her from speaking. her body was overwhelmed with emotions; pain, fear. comfort all present in her body. a bit of solace had been found from kylian being there but the feeling disappeared when the doctor came in agan. when she announced that it was showtime and should have to push now. there was no going back, no time to have second thoughts. it was all happening in this instant now.

labor was hard. jolts of pain were shooting through her body in short periods and each time she had to push through them. she didn’t care if the entire hospital heard her screams or whether she was breaking kylian’s entire hand with the amount of force she was squeezing it. she couldn’t see anything except pain. and what her desperate even more was the fact that nothing seemed to change.

the nurses and doctors were telling her that she was doing a fantastic job but she still felt as if she hadn’t even pushed once. as if nothing had changed. no matter how much she pressed.

“you’re doing so well ma belle,” kylian encouraged her as another of her screams pierced through the room. “you’re so close.”

“why doesn’t it feel like this?” she yelled out in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. she was hot, her forehead was sweaty and her body felt weak. she couldn’t push anymore.

“miss, you’re nearly done. we can already see the head,” their doctor tried to motivate her. “we just need two more big pushes.”

her surroundings drowned out as she gathered all the strength that was left in her body to push. everything around her became blurry, colors, shapes, persons. her mind was too tired to make her sight clear and she had no energy left anymore to try to focus.

“we need one last push,” they called out to her as she nearly broke down on the bed.

“i’m tired, ky,” she cried tiredly. her eyes barely open. she looked desperately at him. “it hurts so much. i can’t do it anymore. i just want this to be over but it hurts so much,” her sobs left her body and his heart ached as he listened to her.

“t’es la femme la plus courageuse que je connais. et je vais pas te mentir, je ne sais pas dans quelle douleur tu es. mais je sais que tu es la seule à pouvoir le faire. bientôt on aura notre bébé dans le main. one last push and it’s over, okay?” their eyes mirrored every emotion present in the room. the fatigue but also the exhaustion. pain but also love: there was everything. — you’re the strongest woman i know. and i won't lie to you, i don’t know what the pain you’re in feels like. but i know you’re the only one who can do it. soon we’ll have our baby in our hands.

amara nodded as she took a deep breath to push again. she’s clutching kylian’s hand with every last remaining strength as he continues to encourage her. the pain she’s feeling now was much higher than what she experienced the last five hours. suddenly she feels everything. as if her senses have been amplified. there was a sharp pain accompanied by an agonizing scream and suddenly there's a new voice in the room.

she’s asked to hold her arms out as kylian’s eyes fill with tears and all of sudden she’s holding her baby. their little girl. the joy of their life they’ve been dying to meet.

her eyes are filled with tears as the realization hit her. all the pain is suddenly forgotten, as if it never existed. now her body’s only consumed with happiness. she’s crying hysterically as her baby continues to let out cries. the sign of life. that everything was going well. she didn’t need to look at him to know that he was crying as well.

every of her muscles is feeling exhausted when they take their new child away to do its first medical care. kylian himself wasn’t one to often feel very emotional but when he had been asked to cut the chord that had connected amara and their bundle of joy for nine months. she’s finally here and he suddenly understood the feeling of surrealism that amara had told him about.

after the first checks had been done, their daughter had been placed into her arms again. and somehow she must have had still some liquid in her body as her eyes began to water again when she truly held her daughter for the first time.

“she doesn’t seem like a faith,” amara whispered, holding her daughter who was covered in a soft, fluffy, pink blanket. she had opened her eyes for the first time and again, a few years left her eyes when she stared into her daughter’s beautiful eyes. they had her eye shape but all she saw looking into them was kylian. she had inherited her father’s eyes. the fact that she could reference to kylian as dad now spread a new kind of warmth through her body.

“no. it kinda feels wrong,” he agreed. as he gently trailed a finger over her delicate face, he couldn’t help but fall more in love with the woman in front of him. he had always known that he would always love her, no matter in which reality they found themselves. and he had fallen in love with every one of her versions. and now he found himself falling for her new role. he had fallen deeply for amara in her role as mom. he couldn’t believe he had ever doubted. she was perfect. “what was the second name we chose again?”

“are you talking about anaïs?”

kylian’s smile grew bigger as he continued to stare at his daughter. he had learned the meaning of infinite love with amara but the term of unconditional love. it was this small human that taught him what it meant. what people were talking about when they talked about loving someone unconditionally. “yeah. i think she looks more like an anaïs.”

and looking at her, amara understood. she had stopped crying and was looking at her, as if she was taking in her new surroundings. she had been removed from the safe comfort of her mother’s womb and had now to get used to the outside. “anaïs-ada mbappe. welcome into the world.”

she pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before turning to look at kylian and both smiled. they had done it.

“t’es prête papa?” she asked him teasingly and motioned for him to step closer. “take off your shirt. it’s your time now.” — are you ready papa

she was tired. exhausted. there was fatigue written all over her face and yet her face still wore a smile as she watched kylian take off his shirt to have his first skin-to-skin with their daughter. he gently took anaïs out of her hands and sat down on the bed next to her.

he had her cradled against his chest, the warmth of his chest spreading was a connection between them. an expression of love sacred to only them. their phones were vibrating but they ignored it. only their little family mattered now. “salut ma princesse,” he whispered to her softly as she wrapped her hand around his finger. “moi, je suis ton papa. et je t’aime tellement.” — hello my princess. i’m your dad. and i love so much.

their tiny miracle was held in his warm embrace as time around them seemed to pause. no one else existed in their bubble that shielded them from reality going on outside. it was only them. and somehow, as they held their daughter in their hands, the idea of parenthood didn’t seem so scary anymore. amara fell happily asleep, knowing that they were going to do this chapter together.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

amara.imani and k.mbappe

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k.mbappe bienvenue au monde anaïs mbappé

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it was their first day at home. and with the first day also came the first night and the first cries.

it still felt so unreal to them how they had left their home as two and had come back with another person. their family addition that represented the proof of their love. putting her down for the first time in her room filled the air with a warm atmosphere. there was so much love around them as she placed anaïs in her bed after putting her to sleep. a small light of the nightlight they had bought cast a yellowish glow around the room, revealing a few of the fine details they had put into the room. their eyes did not leave their daughter, they were too much in awe of what they had created.

she’s woken up by anaïs’ soft cries in the night. a quick glance at the small clock next to the bed told her it was just one in the morning. she’s tired and every bone is begging her to stay in bed but her motherly intuition prevents her. turning, she saw kylian still sleeping profoundly next to her as she gets up to calm down their daughter.

“you’re hungry, aren’t you,” she asked her daughter in a gentle tone as she picked the small baby up and sat down with her on an armchair next to the crib. she thanked kylian’s brilliance for having had the idea of installing one next to the crib. “ça va, maman est là. maman va s’occuper de toi,” she soothed anaïs’ cries as she got ready to feed the little human in her arms. — it’s okay, mummy here. mummy is gonna take care of you

just as she had predicted, hunger had been the cause for her awakening as she watched anais latch onto her breasts, hands grabbing onto each side. her cries quickly subsided as the little girl got fed while amara tenderly stroked her cheek. she waited for a bit longer after making sure anais had burped and rocked her little princess back to sleep before joining her own bed again. she couldn’t even find it in herself to be mad at the way kylian was sleeping so profoundly, as if he hadn’t heard her cries. it was her first time experiencing motherly intuition and tending to her responsibilities. she placed a soft peck on his forehead before falling asleep again, her mind drifting away before she had even truly placed down her head on the pillow.

the second time anais woke up, it was kylian who tended to her needs. amara stirred, ready to get up but the french striker tells her to go back to sleep. that she was already exhausted enough and her body needed some rest. after changing her diaper, he instantly took off his shirt before picking up his daughter and putting her close to his chest. immediately her cries stopped when she felt her father’s warmth and comfort as his fingers gently brushed against her head. they stood in the same position for the next thirty minutes before anais fell asleep again, their small bond blossoming through moments like this. amara’s still heavily asleep when he slips back into bed again, wrapping his arm around her waist to find sleep again.

but his sleep didn't last for very long before they heard her cries again. this time though they had managed to find three more hours to sleep with the clock indicating that it was already eight in the morning. amara was about to get up to look after their daughter when kylian grabbed her hand, motioning for her to stay in bed.

“you went last time,” amara muttered tiredly, already looking for her slippers but kylian shook his head.

“go back to sleep cherie,” he interjected, putting a shirt on. “you need it more than me.”

“your holidays are over tomorrow. if anyone needs sleep it’s you.”

he shrugged, standing up and ready to go look after anais. “and you just gave birth a week ago. repose toi un peu,” he convinced her and she nodded, knowing it was useless to argue with him. she gave him a last kiss before closing her eyes again, fatigue instantly taking over. she didn’t know what had been the matter this time but since her cries quickly stopped at the sight of her father, she knew he had everything under control, her instincts could relax as she slept a bit more. — get some rest

she woke up to an empty bed the next morning. it’s the feeling of coldness next to her that managed to bring her out of her sleep even though she was still tired. she knows that kylian must be around somewhere with anaïs but she enjoyed staying in bed for the first time since she gave birth. regain all her forces.

there was an instant smile on her face when she saw her daughter in kylian’s hands while walking out their bedroom. her heart grew twice its size when spotted them on the sofa with kylian talking to her and anaïs having her eyes wide open. as if she was understanding or at least trying to follow what her father was telling her.

“regarde qui s’est réveillée,” he said softly to his daughter, noticing amara’s presence. “tu as vu maman?” — look who woke up

— did you see mummy?

“vous êtes trop beau ensemble,” she greeted him with a kiss as she sat down next to him and reached for their daughter. anaïs calmly got comfortable in her mother’s arms, not making much of a fuss as she got ready to eat. — you’re too beautiful together

she had a fond smile adorning her lips, looking at her daughter. this tiny human being that changed their lives around. even though she was only a week old, they could already recognize that she was her father’s photocopy. that she would be his except for the shape of her eyes. the one thing anaïs had inherited from her.

“t’es la femme la plus forte que je connais. je ne sais pas comment t’as fait. comment tu fais…,” he told her completely in awe which made amara chuckle. — you’re the strongest woman i know. i don’t know how you did it, how you do it

“et toi tu es l’homme le plus beau, magnifique de toute cette terre. no one i would rather have than you as the father of my baby. — you’re the most beautiful, amazing man on this earth

“she makes everything better,” kylian chuckled as he got up to prepare breakfast for them.

amara nodded, softly cradling her daughter while she breastfed her. her small little hands were placed firmly (as firm as they could be for a one week old) as she drank the breast milk.

“weird how i’m ready to go to war for someone i’ve practically known a week. and yet she’s the answer to everything.”

he understood that feeling better than anyone. if the world turned around him before, now his world turned around her. he was ready climb mountains, cross jungles or put the world on fire if it was necessary for his daughter’s happiness. he would do anything for her. “i love you two more than anything.”

his eyes held that famous sparkle as he spoke and amara leaned in to place a kiss on his lips. in the span of a week their lives had changed and they had been thrown into the world of parenthood. the one thing no matter how much one studied, there was never the perfect preparation. one would never know how parenthood actually worked out till they were parents. it was a new path to life.

amara and kylian had each other to overcome the hills and rocks that may have been put onto their way. anaïs was the confirmation of what they had always been. a family. their bubble was finished and perfect now. they had everything they needed.

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autumnshighlady · 1 year ago

Text

Yes, sir

Eris x female!reader

part of The Professor Series

summary: you've been trying to impress Dr. Vanserra for weeks, and an opportunity presents itself when he offers you private study sessions ;)

warnings: smut, power dynamic, name calling, oral sex (f receiving), thigh riding, face sitting, fingering, inappropriate use of mirror, tw: Ianthe

word count: 6.7k

request/prompt: Eris would undoubtedly be a history teacher, sarcastic at times and rigid

a/n: i got my degree in medieval history so there's a bit of rambling in this fic about my area of study since Eris is a history professor, figured i spent 4 years researching it so may as well incorporate it into this fic lmao feel free to breeze past the reader's monologue about the study material (or read it if you're interested hehe)

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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“Does anyone know why this manuscript was significant to political theory at the time of its creation?”

A few hands raised around you in the lecture hall, yours included. Political history professor Dr. Eris Vanserra paced slowly across the floor, his amber eyes scanning the rows of students for someone to pick on. His red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, a look that had more than a few of you swooning. His red button up shirt complimented the brown tweed jacket on his shoulders, an outfit that no doubt cost you more than you made in a month. Dr. Vanserra always had the nicest outfits out of all your professors, never coming to class with a thread out of place.

Over the last few weeks, you had come to terms with the fact that you were harbouring an intense crush on him. You couldn’t help it – he spoke with such elegance, explaining the most boring concepts in a way that had you utterly entranced. Frequently, you found yourself staring at his slender hands, which he often gestured with as he spoke. He was a strict professor, who had no patience for any fooling around during class. But his dry jokes were laced with sarcasm, adding to his charming wit. Everyone tried to impress him – Dr. Vanserra was a distant male, often brushing off students in his office hours as if he wanted as little interaction as possible. He never complimented their work either, a simple head nod being the closest anyone has gotten to positive feedback. He was quick to point out what you did wrong, never beating around the bush.

And so you moved your seat from the back of the class to the front, always making sure to be the first student in the door and the last one to leave. It was tough, with other students just as eager to gain a minute of his attention. But you welcomed the challenge, craving to be the one who broke his rigid exterior and get him to show that he at least had a heart. That included always being ready to answer any questions.

Eris’s glowing gaze landed on you, and your heart fluttered. For a moment, you were sure he would call on you to answer the question. But his gaze came as quickly as it left, landing on the blonde female two seats down from you, Ianthe.

“They’re important because they were written by a woman,” Ianthe said proudly, her annoying voice raising three pitches higher than what you knew was her normal voice. “The only one of its time, too. Proof that women in the elite class were learning to read and write just like the men.”

Ianthe proudly lifted her chin up, satisfied with her answer. Dr. Vanserra took a single step towards her, and she crossed her arms together and leaned her elbows on the table, her big eyes wide as she batted her lashes at the professor. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her lack of subtly, noting how ridiculous she looked trying to push her breasts together to show off her cleavage.

“A weak and shallow take, Ianthe, as per usual.” Eris said, sarcastic disappointment lacing his voice.

You had to cough to conceal your laugh. Ianthe was always trying to suck up to Dr. Vanserra, always humiliating herself along the way yet failing to recognize how foolish she looked.

“Is there anyone who can answer my question with a point that’s actually worth my precious time to listen to?” He continued, surveying the hesitant class.

Your hand shot up once again, and this time the professor’s gaze landed on you. He nodded, his stoic face revealing nothing as he waited for you to make your point.

“It’s the only manuscript we currently possess that’s written by a woman in its time,” You began. “That doesn’t mean it’s the only one to have existed. And the author being our only example of a body of literature written by a woman in its era doesn’t mean all elite women were doing the same. Her husband was a close friend of the emperor’s, acting as one of his closest counsellors. It’s highly likely that her husband’s unusually high status is the reason she was able to read and write.”

Dr. Vanserra nodded. “Carry on.”

You tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze as you scrambled to remember your information. “Well, the manuscript itself gives us insight into the political strife of the realm. Many of our other sources from that era never address the problem because they don’t want the history books to remember the bad times. Not only does she directly address the political issues at hand, but she also inserts herself into the narrative, something no other source from its time does. So while it’s written as a book of advice to her son who’s a political prisoner in an enemy court, it gives us insight into 3 aspects of family in that era: feelings, authority, and consciousness. Which also links back to what we talked about last week regarding the connection between the theme of consciousness within this era’s literature.”

You let out a breath, trying not to shake. The professor continued to stare at you, expressionless, leaving you unsure if your points were completely bogus or not. Finally, Dr. Vanserra dipped his head. “Good.” He said plainly, and Ianthe audibly huffed. “Now speaking of last week’s material…”

Dr. Vanserra continued his lecture, and you felt Ianthe shooting daggers at you with her eyes. But you didn’t care, you were too busy riding the high of your first ever praise from the instructor – anyone’s first ever praise from him, now that you thought of it. You happily scrawled down your notes for the remainder of the period, until the clock struck 9am, indicating class was over.

“I will expect the first draft of your midterm essays in three weeks, do not forget.” Dr. Vanserra said as students began packing up. “It’s going to take me a hundred hours to go through them all, so make them worth the headache it will cause me.”

Students began scurrying out the door, and you were grateful that you had no classes for the rest of the day. You packed up your things more slowly, your books and notepads stacked in an organised pile, just how you liked it. You stepped around the front of your desk and scooped them up in your arms, but quickly collided with a blonde female carrying a very full mug of coffee.

“Oh my goodness!” Ianthe squealed, her voice sweet as honey. “Your notes! I am so sorry hun, let me help you clean that up.”

Anger boiled in your blood, and it took everything in you not to yank her by her blonde hair and drag her face through the spilled mess. “It’s ok,” You forced yourself to say through gritted teeth. “It was an accident.”

“Oopsies!” She chuckled, her blue eyes glittering. “See ya!” She skipped away, miniskirt bouncing with every step. Gods, you hated her.

You looked down at your fallen pile of notes, now drenched in caffeine and completely illegible. Kneeling down, you tried to see if anything was salvageable, but nothing remained. Tears welled in your eyes – weeks of hard work, just gone. You felt your white t-shirt sticking to your chest, now strained with brown.

You hadn’t even noticed Dr. Vanserra approach. His pale, slender hand appeared next to yours, picking up a drenched piece of paper. You looked up, seeing him crouched down in front of you.

“Can any of it be saved?” He asked, her voice still stoic but slightly softer.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak without crying yet.

Dr. Vanserra clucked his tongue. “Unfortunate. You’ve worked very hard on those.”

“Those are all my notes from the last few weeks,” You said quietly, lip wobbling. “Sir… I have nothing to work with for my essay draft now.”

He merely hummed as if deep in thought before grabbing the soaked papers from your hands and standing up. You heard him stride over to the trash bin and lift the lid, tossing the remains of the material inside. His expensive shoes clicked on the floor as he walked back over to you. His hand reached out, coming into your lowered field of view.

You looked up at him through teary eyes, confused.

“Come on, get up.” Dr. Vanserra said, sighing. “She wins if you sit like that, just sulking. So get up and come with me.”

Trying not to tremble, you grabbed his hand. He pulled you up with surprising strength, his hand warm despite the freezing temperature of the room. Wordlessly, he grabbed your bags along with his own, walking out of the lecture hall with long strides. Puzzled, you scrambled to follow, too nervous to say a word. This was the most Dr. Vanserra had ever spoken to you, you didn’t want to risk screwing it up by saying something stupid.

You followed him all the way to his office, shutting the door behind you as you entered the space. Rich tones of red, amber, and green adorned the room, expensive looking furniture and decor scattered everywhere in an organised manner. The office was filled with more candles than you could count, their orange flames flickering gently. Dr. Vanserra set your bags down on one of the chairs before finally speaking.

“Twelve lectures worth of your notes are gone, and you cannot do anything about that.” He said sternly. “So do not cry over it. However, I do not want to see you fall behind and try to redo the notes off of memory alone. You will fail the course if you do so. Therefore, for the next two weeks, we will meet in my office every day at 5pm. Each session we will go over one lecture, and you will redo your notes. We can go slow to ensure you do not miss anything, and you may ask me any questions you need. That will give you only a week to complete your draft, but at least you will not be lacking half the material needed for it. Does this work for you?”

Your jaw went slack. One on one review with the professor? It was the golden ticket you needed to succeed in this course, and you were going to make it count. “Yes, sir, absolutely.” You replied quickly, letting out a breath. “Thank you, Dr. Vanserra, thank you.”

“We are going to be spending a lot of time together over the next two weeks, my dear. You can call me Eris.”

Your heart flipped. “Eris.” You corrected yourself, testing his name on your tongue.

He smirked. “Excellent. Now that we are on a first name basis, I can comfortably tell you that the coffee has rendered your shirt see through.”

The blood drained from your face, and your arms shot from your sides to cover your chest. As luck would have it, you weren’t wearing a bra that day, meaning your nipples were likely visible through the wet white shirt. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You stammered, cheeks flushing red.

“It’s quite alright.” Eris strolled towards a small dresser in the corner of the room, opening up the middle drawer and pulling out a cream coloured polo sweater with a v-neck. “Put this on, I won’t have my student walking around campus with her tits in plain sight.”

You blushed deeply, taking the fabric from him. It was the softest thing you’d felt, and smelled strongly of the cologne you frequently caught a whiff of whenever the professor walked by you. The plainness of his words made your brain go haywire, and you stood there dumbly.

“Unless you want to give me a show, I suggest you turn around and change so I can put your shirt in a bag for you to take home.” Eris said, a hint of mischief behind his amber gaze.

You turned around, reaching down and pulling the ruined t-shirt over your head. You shivered, feeling those eyes burning into your bare back as you carefully held your arm out behind you with the shirt balled inside your fist.

Eris took it, and you heard him turn around and walk away, presumably to grab a bag. You quickly pulled the sweater over your head, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach that danced happily at the thought of wearing your professor’s sweater.

“All done.” You said, turning around. “I’ll get this dry cleaned before I give it back.”

The male only shrugged as he tossed your shirt into a spare grocery bag. “Clean it, keep it, shred it, it matters not to me. I have three more identical to that one.”

“Uh, ok.” You muttered. The idea of keeping his sweater felt wrong, but you were secretly thrilled that he suggested it.

Eris took a seat behind his desk, pulling out books from his briefcase. “Now be gone with you, I have research to do. And remember, 5pm tomorrow. Do not be late.”

“I won’t.” You promised, grabbing your bags and making your exit.

Maybe it was a good thing Ianthe spilled her coffee on you.

************************

ONE WEEK LATER

You tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep hours after your study session with Eris. At first, they had been gruelling. Eris would grill you for every answer you gave him, making sure you could confidently back up your claims. Your brain was exhausted by the end of it, but you were happy. Eris had also given you helpful anecdotes that he hadn’t mentioned to the class. You had twice as many notes as before, and they were twice as helpful.

He was different than when he taught in class. More patient, less demanding. He spoke slower, allowing you to catch up if you fell behind. His strict persona was as rigid as ever in class, but you found he was calling on you more and more to answer questions. It delighted you.

At first, you had sat in the chair in front of his desk. But today, the chair was moved beside his. More than once, your leg knocked against his muscular thigh, and you’d murmur an embarrassed apology. Eris never acknowledged it, only smirked before returning to the material at hand. You still felt the tingling sensation on your own thigh from earlier when he gently squeezed it. You had gotten a tough question right, and Eris had reached down and put his hand on your thigh, quickly squeezing it before retreating.

Your face had gone bright red, and there was no way he hadn’t noticed. Just that one simple action had made your core throb with need. It didn’t help that he had begun calling you pet names, such as ‘my dear’ and ‘love’. You drank them up, his silver tongue making the nicknames sound just right. Every time he said them, it went straight to your core.

Studying with your professor had suddenly become incredibly hard.

You rolled over in your bed once more, hoping that perhaps this side of the sheets would finally bring you sleep. But every time you closed your eyes, all you could think about was Eris’s touch on your thigh, and how it would feel if his hand was higher up, right where you had dreamed about it being. You imagined his slender fingers pumping inside you, filthy words falling from his lips like the first snow of winter, red hair falling in your face was his body moulded over top of yours–

“Get it together.” You scolded yourself. “He’s your fucking professor. It was nothing. Stop overthinking.”

But that didn’t stop you from sneaking your hand between your legs in a last ditch effort to ease yourself into sleep.

************************

A few days later, you checked your outfit in the bathroom mirror at 4:55pm before heading to Eris’s office. You hadn’t slept well last night, so you opted for a casual pair of soft, flowing green pants paired with a simple cream coloured button up. You’d be lying to yourself if you claimed you hadn’t deliberately chosen the pants that seemed to be Eris’s favourite shade of green. It was hard to sleep when all you could think about was how close you were going to be sitting to him the next day.

At 5pm on the dot, you opened the door to his office. “Good evening, sir.” You greeted him, locking the door behind you. It was something he insisted on, claiming he didn’t want his other students barging in thinking you were getting special treatment.

“Hello, my dear.” Eris said. “We’re covering lecture 10 today, I assume you brought the material.”

You nodded, setting your bag next to the desk before making your way around to Eris’s side. You paused, noticing something was missing. “Where’s my chair?” You asked.

“Oh, that thing,” Eris tutted, lips drawn into a faint smirk. “I gave it to my brother for the week. His office chair broke, and he has fifty students lined up outside his office every day who need it more than I do.”

Your mouth was dry, unsure of what game he was playing. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

“I think there’s enough room over here for you.” Eris’s voice was velvety and laced with smugness. His brown eyes glowed, like a viper approaching a small creature to make its first strike.

“Oh, do you want me to stand?” You tried hesitantly. No way this was going where you think it was going, right?

“For two hours? I wouldn’t do that to you. Come here.” He beckoned you forward with a come here motion and spread his legs ever so slightly, making your stomach do a somersault. Your body obeyed him without question, stepping forward until Eris grabbed your hand and pulled you down, causing you to fall onto his lap with a yelp. Strong hands gripped your hips, adjusting you so you were perched on his right thing, one leg on each side.

You bit your lip so the whimper that had built in your throat didn’t slip through. Your throbbing core was pressed right into the hard muscle of Eris’s thigh, emitting a heat you were sure he would feel.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He purred, his lips dangerously close to your ear. His breath was warm, sending shivers down your spine.

You stuttered something incoherent in response, but Eris cut you off casually, reaching forward and opening your book. His knee hiked up a bit, pushing his thigh further into your core. This time, you couldn’t stop the noise you let out.

“Are you alright, love?” Eris asked innocently. You gritted your teeth – he knew what he was doing, and was trying to get a reaction from you. As much as you wanted him, you were stubborn.

Two could play this game.

“Just fine.” You quipped, attempting to keep your composure.

“Wonderful. Let us begin.”

************************

An hour later, your lip had indents on it from your teeth. It was the most torturous study session you’d ever had in your life. It was less than 10 minutes in before Eris took it up a notch. He had rested one hand on your hip, a simple gesture as if to steady you. But his thumb found its way underneath the fabric of your shirt and began to rub small circles above the bone.

The more questions Eris asked you, the closer he leaned into you. His lips began grazing your ear as he spoke, driving you wild. He didn’t sit still either, casually moving his leg from time to time, causing you to slide forward, clit grazing the sinewy muscle.

It was a slow torture.

“You seem distracted.” Eris murmured in your ear, readjusting himself again and sending another wave of pleasure through your core. You couldn’t help it, a quiet moan leaving your mouth as you felt yourself giving up.

He chuckled darkly, sliding the rest of the hand under your shirt fabric and resting it on the skin above your hip bone. “You’ve been working so hard my dear, I can’t have you unfocused.”

The rest of his fingers began tracing lazy, teasing circles against your flesh. You arched into his touch, tears from the lack of stimulation to your cunt threatening to form in your eyes if he didn’t touch you soon.

“Please.” You murmured quietly.

“Please what?” Eris asked, feigning cluelessness but letting his teeth scrape the shell of your ear. “If you need something from me, you need only ask. And I will be happy to oblige.”

The bastard was really going to make you admit it. He knew what he had been doing for the past hour, teasing you subtly to the point where you’d beg for more. Your earlier determination was gone, replaced by a pathetic neediness for his touch.

“Touch me, please.” You whined, not caring how weak you sounded.

Eris paused for a second. “No.”

Your eyes shot open in surprise. If this was some sick game to humiliate you, you were going to kill him. “What do you mean–”

“You know what you want to do right now,” He cut you off, his voice low. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at my thighs for the past few days. This is your chance to take what you want, sweetheart. Only once you grind yourself into my thigh to show me how desperate you are for me, will I finally touch you.”

Humiliation burned through you. No matter how stubborn you were, it was no match for Eris’s. There was no way you’d be able to convince him to put his hands on you without first doing what he asked.

You leaned forward, placing your hands on his knee for support as your clit finally made contact with his thigh. You began rocking your hips, moaning at the relief it brought you.

“Come on, I know you can give me more than that.” Eris remarked from behind you.

You groaned and ground your hips harder into his thigh, pleasure intensifying. You swivelled your hips back and forth and in circular motions, trying to find a path to the release you had been craving.

“Fuck.” You moaned, glancing sideways at the mirror that was propped against the wall adjacent to his desk. The sight nearly made you gasp. Your face was flushed, blissed out as you grinded into Eris’s thigh, a small wet patch having formed on his light brown trousers. Eris was leaning back in his chair, his eyes hungrily drinking in the view from behind of you riding his thigh. His face was dark with want, and his knuckles were white as they gripped the side of the chair.

You continued your motions, grinding into your professor’s thigh in his locked office, coming so close to building that familiar coil in your stomach but never quite getting there.

“Eris…” You moaned.

“Yes, my dear?” Came his reply.

“I need you. Please, sir, I need you to touch me.”

One glance in the mirror and you knew you were victorious. Calling him ‘sir’ seemed to have softened his determination to make you grind into him until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Aw, can you not get yourself off on my thigh without help?” He mocked, stroking your hip again. “You need me that badly, don’t you? You know how unsatisfying it would be to cum without my touch.”

He spun the chair around, lifting your hips with one hand and peeling your pants and underwear off at the same time. The two of you were now facing the mirror, able to take in the sinfulness of the situation in full view. Eris adjusted you on his lap so that you were sitting atop his bulge, legs spread over each of his legs. Your needy cunt was on display, and you leaned back into his solid chest.

“Such a greedy little thing.” Eris said. One of his hands reached down and stroked your clit, while the other wrapped around your other hip and began to tease your entrance. For a second, you thought he was going to cruelly pull away, leaving you high and dry. But moments later he plunged a finger inside you, increasing the speed and pressure on your clit as well.

Your entire body twitched with the sudden wave of pleasure, ten times more intense than anything you had given yourself. Your moan this time was loud, echoing throughout the vast space of the office. His hands worked you in all the right places, confidently finding the perfect pleasure spots as if he had been given a map to your body and spent years studying it.

“Is that better?” Eris cooed, running his lips up and down your neck. “Is this what you’ve been fantasising about, being completely at my mercy as I make you feel good?”

“Gods, yes.” You cried out, arching into him.

“There are no gods here to help you, my dear,” He chuckled darkly. “Only me.”

Eris bit down on the juncture between your shoulder and neck, causing you to gasp. But you welcomed the sting of it, sighing as his silver tongue caressed the indents in your skin. Your legs began to tense up, feeling the orgasm you had been so desperately craving building up. The wet squelching sounds of Eris’s fingers on your cunt sang in harmony with your moans, as you watched the scene in the mirror through half-closed eyes.

“That’s it, love.” Eris murmured, sucking your neck just below the curve of your jaw. “Cum all over my hands.”

Your body obeyed, erupting into a burst of flaming pleasure as your orgasm hit you hard. Eris’s fingers continued to work you through your high, intensifying it tenfold. You were a whimpering, twitching mess in your professor’s lap. Finally, he removed his hands from between your legs, giving you a merciful break. You slouched into him, panting.

Your professor had just given you the most intense orgasm of your life.

After a few minutes letting your body recover, Eris picked you up with ease, bridal style in his arms. He settled you both down on the couch, placing his hand on your inner thigh and slowly sliding it back towards your core. You whimpered as his fingers grazed your sensitive slit, causing him to chuckle.

“Oh you poor, sweet thing,” Eris mocked. “You didn’t think that would be it, did you? I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Your mind reeled as he adjusted himself, laying back flat on the couch and pulling you on top of him. Luckily, you caught yourself with one arm on his chest so you didn’t land flat on his body. Eris’s hand reached behind your neck, grabbing you firmly and pulling your lips into his. You groaned, shifting on top of him so you were straddling his waist to get more comfortable. Eris’s grip was tight, putting you at the mercy of his kiss as his lips consumed your own. You melted into his mouth like butter, sighing as his tongue danced with your own.

His other hand reached down and squeezed your backside, pushing your hips into his crotch and causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths. The noise that emitted from Eris’s lips was the most delightful thing you had ever heard, you decided. It filled you with determination to see what other sounds your professor could make. So you ground your hips into his bulge again, causing him to groan.

“Careful,” He growled, nipping at your lip in warning. “You’re playing with fire here, my dear. Did I say you could grind on my cock like a desperate whore?”

You paused, heat rushing to your core at his filthy words. You’d always loved the sound of Eris’s voice, and hearing him say such sinful things to you brought a fresh wave of arousal.

A hard smack landed on your ass, making you yelp in surprise.

“I asked you a question.” Eris said sternly. “Did I give you permission to grind on my cock, yes or no?”

“No.” You answered sheepishly.

“No is right. Sit up. You’re going to make it up to me.”

You frowned in confusion, but did as you were told, propping yourself up and sitting back down on Eris’s hips, trying to ignore the way his cock dug into your backside. You took a second to admire Eris’s form laying on the luxurious couch beneath you. His red hair was fanned around his face like the morning rays of sunshine, a beautiful contrast with the dark green of the sofa. His expression was relaxed, but calculating as always – angular cheekbones made more prominent in the light of the candles, his amber eyes glowing with desire. It was a sight you wanted to commit to memory forever.

“Remove your shirt, and come ride my face.” Eris said plainly. You baulked, having expected him to tell you to get on your knees and take his cock down your throat. You were supposed to make up for disobeying him by… letting him eat you out? Most males you had been with had been selfish, only going down on you if you sucked them off first. But Eris was different.

“I would suggest you listen and do as I say, unless you want to be bent over my knee and spanked until you cannot walk, and are ordered not to cum for a week.” Eris’s voice was less patient this time, noting your hesitation.

Something dark in his eyes told you he meant it, so you obeyed, unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it off your shoulders, followed by your bra. You were now completely naked on top of Eris, who remained fully clothed. Under any other circumstances, you’d have insisted he at least partially undress first. But you knew his patience was wearing thin, and as much as you secretly wouldn’t mind being spanked, the thought of not coming for a week was something you couldn’t do.

You crawled your way up his body, seating a knee on either side of his head. You lifted your hips, core inches from his face. The male was practically salivating beneath you as you gingerly lowered your cunt to skim his lips.

“I thought I told you to sit.” Eris said.

You gawked. “But I don’t want to suffocate–”

Your sentence was interrupted by a frustrated growl from your professor. He gripped your hips firmly and pulled you down hard, seating you fully on his mouth. You cried out as his tongue expertly stroked your folds, flicking your clit as he ate you out with precision that made you weak. Instinctively, one hand came down to grip Eris’s red locks, causing him to moan into your cunt. His hair was soft in your fingers, and you relished in the feeling of it.

You felt Eris’s hands guide your hips back and forth, encouraging you to rock them against his face. Moans left your lips as you obliged, grinding into his face like you had on his thigh. Evidently, this pleased Eris and he groaned, which sent delicious vibrations through your core.

You let your head fall back, shamelessly riding Eris’s mouth as you pulled on his hair. If your grip caused him any pain, he gave no indication of it. Whenever you tried to lift your hips to let him breathe, his grip only tightened and firmly held you in place. It wasn’t long before you climaxed again, letting out a choked cry as your juices covered his face. After catching your breath, letting Eris wipe his face with his fingers before sicking the digits clean, you climbed off of him, collapsing into a sitting position on the couch as Eris sat up next to you. His skilled fingers began undoing the buttons on his shirt, and you hungrily drank in the sight of his bare chest as he pulled the expensive material off.

“You did so well, my dear.” Eris purred. “I think you can cum one more time for me. Ride my cock this time, love, make a pretty mess all over it just like you did with my face. And my fingers… and thigh.”

Your mouth went slack. After two orgasms, you weren’t sure if you could handle a third. But the desire to please him outweighed any reservations you had about your sensitive body, so you reached down and unlaced his breeches, making eye contact as you did so. Eris smirked, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion as you pulled out his long cock and stroked it once. The tip was red and needy, leaking with precum and making your mouth water. You swung your leg over his hips, straddling them. One of your hands reached towards Eris’s cock, grabbing it and lining it up with your entrance. You took a breath, and began to sink down.

You stopped after getting just the tip in, trying to catch your breath. The stretch stung, and you weren’t sure how you were going to fit the rest of it in, especially being so oversensitive still. Eris simply watched with his hands behind his head casually, a smug look on his face. He did not help you, seemingly content to watch you struggle to take his length.

You forced your body to relax, sliding to about halfway down before stopping, moaning dizzily. All of your senses were completely overwhelmed, and you felt so full with only half his cock inside you.

“Aw, are you finding it difficult to take me, love?” Eris mocked. “Maybe you can’t handle it–”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence, for his teasing tone filled you with sheer determination and you slammed yourself down onto him. Eris was cut off in a strangled moan, eyes widening as you impaled your cunt on his cock. The force of it knocked the wind out of you, but you didn’t let it stop you. You swirled your hips, pulling yourself up his length before falling down on him again, bracing your hands on his shoulders for support. Gods, he was so deep inside of you, touching places that made your head spin.

“Fucking hell.” Eris groaned, his voice rough as you slid up and down on his cock at a relentless pace. You twisted and swivelled your hips as you did so, your cunt squeezing his cock at new angles that made your professor gasp. You threw your head back, and Eris took the opportunity to lean forward and wrap his arms around your back, pulling your chest closer to him and taking your breast in his mouth.

The new sensation made you cry out, but you refused to let your pace falter. Eris’s teeth scraped your nipple, sucking harshly before moving to your other breast. His hips began slamming up into you to meet your own, making the coil in your belly tighten.

“Eris…” You whined, tangling your hands in his hair again.

“That’s it, love, say my name,” Eris reached one hand down to roll your clit with his thumb, while the other gripped your throat and squeezed. “Let everyone know who’s fucking you dumb right now. Let them hear you scream for me as your tight little cunt takes my cock.”

You rode him with a vigour you didn’t know you possessed, shamelessly moaning his name over and over again. “Eris… Eris…. Eris!” It was overwhelming, your professor’s cock slamming in and out of you, his hand rolling your clit while the other held you by the throat. You kept your grip on his hair, yanking as you climaxed one last time, the action of your fingers pulling his red locks making Eris cry out too. His hips stuttered as his cum shot through you, your cunt clenching around him as you rode out your own orgasm. It was the most intense out of all the ones you had so far, the warmth of Eris spilling inside you making you dizzy with pleasure.

You leaned forward, dragging your lips up Eris’s throat as he moaned with you clenching around him. He cursed, the slip in his control filling you with pride. His skin tasted like rich autumn spices. You pulled his cock out from inside you and collapsed into his chest, panting. You didn’t realise how exhausted your body was until now. Every cell in you was completely spent, leaving you unable to move. You fought the sleepiness, but the warmth from Eris’s chest was too comforting and darkness overcame you.

************************

A few hours later, you opened your eyes. For a moment, you expected to be in your own bed, the whole thing having been a dream. But you took in your surroundings, realising you were still in Eris’s office. The professor was sitting at his desk, quietly grading. You scrambled upright, the blanket that had been draped across you falling onto your lap.

“I’m so sorry.” You stammered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Eris looked up at you, smirking. “You have nothing to apologise for. I take pride in your passing out, actually. Means I did my job well, not that there was any doubt based on the noises you made.”

You blushed furiously, but then looked down at your body. You expected to be sweaty and gross from the sex, utterly naked and exposed. But you felt clean, as if you had been wiped down with a wet cloth and then dried. Your old clothes were neatly folded on the ground next to you, and you were dressed in a pair of soft, forest green sweatpants and a white crew neck sweater. They definitely were not Eris’s size. “You keep women’s clothes in your office?” You asked, confused.

“I keep a spare set of attire for all the female students I fuck in here.” Eris’s voice was dry, and you whipped around to stare at him with wide eyes. “That was a joke, my dear. I had them picked out last week. You know, in case Ianthe decided she wanted to spill more coffee on you in the future.”

You snorted, heart fluttering at the surprising thoughtfulness of his actions. While you had hoped he wouldn’t just toss your clothes at you and send you on your way without a word, given the professor’s rigidness it hadn’t been entirely out of the question. “You’re not funny.”

“On the contrary, I am terribly funny.”

“You got these clothes last week, was it really because of Ianthe or was your plan to fuck me all along? Is that why you offered to help me in the first place?”

Eris rolled his amber eyes, giving you a stern look. “No. My offer to help you was, and is, genuine, and with your best academic interests in mind. I may be a prick, but I am not cruel. Fucking you was a delightful bonus, not an expectation.”

His words reassured you. Despite his strict reputation, it seemed Dr. Vanserra had a heart after all. You checked the clock, realising it was almost 9:30pm. “Shit, I have to get home now. My roommate is going to think I fell off the face of the earth.”

You hastily grabbed your things, giving Eris a quick kiss on the mouth before hurrying to the doorway. You had no idea what this meant for the two of you, if it was a one time thing to satisfy both your needs, or something more. Regardless, you didn’t want to think too much about it, content to bask in the aftermath of the best sex you’ve ever had.

“Same time tomorrow.” Eris piped up right before you opened your door. “Don’t be late.”

“Yes sir.” You smirked at the twitch of his face at your words.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

A sadistic grin crossed Eris’s face. “When you get home, I’m positive you will be reminiscing about the mind blowing orgasms you just had. But you are not to touch yourself until I see you tomorrow night, am I clear? There will be… repercussions, if you disobey me.”

You baulked, embarrassed that he had seen right through you, but nodded anyway. As the door closed behind you, you wondered if you were going to last the next 20 hours without breaking his rule.

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