#And I think she’d appreciate the pin

[kairithemang0]

sitting here waiting to see my sophomore year English teacher so I can give her the great American bitch pin

[domnamewoman]

MK1 Characters React To: Being Pinned To The Wall By Their Crush To Hide On A Mission

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s first priority is making sure that you both are safe and undetectable by the enemy. It isn’t until after he confirms your safety that he realizes just how close you are. So close that he can feel your breath brushing over him on every exhale. Despite enjoying the proximity he doesn’t want to risk you feeling uncomfortable so he backs off.

“I think we are in the clear now. Let’s find our way back to the exit.”

Raiden is overthinking everything from the moment you press up against him. Should he hold his breath because breathing in your face is rude, right? Should he close his eyes because him staring at you just has to be making you feel awkward, isn’t it? So caught up in his head he doesn’t even realize that you moved back until you ask if he is okay.

“What… Oh, y-yes I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Kung Lao uses this opportunity to appreciate your features up close. The way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks. The little mole on your chin that he never noticed before. Your smell… It’s simply intoxicating. He would be so focused on memorizing every detail that he didn’t notice the enemy left until you cleared your throat to get his attention.

“I’m sorry, I was just… never mind, let’s get going.”

Johnny Cage takes full advantage of the situation and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. Can you blame him? The cart you’re hiding behind is too small so you have to be as close as possible not to be spotted, obviously. That’s also the reason he has to lean his head against your shoulder. He’s just too tall! It’s definitely not because he wants to nuzzle into you, his lips brushed against your neck completely by accident. Really.

“I think I still hear someone walking around. Let’s stay here for a bit longer.”

Kenshi Takahashi is cursing his heightened senses right now. He is hyper-focused on you and only you. Your addicting scent, the warmth seeping into him from every point your bodies are connected. It takes all of his willpower not to just melt into you. Once you pull away he takes a calming breath and tries to get his brain to focus back on why you both are even here.

“Right, the mission… Let’s uh, let’s head that way.”

Kitana is only worried about the mission getting ruined if you both get caught. That is why she is surprised when she notices her hand over your mouth keeping you from making a sound and the tight grip she has on your shirt, holding you against the wall. This is not how she pictured finally getting this close to you going. She blinks as she releases you and takes a step back.

“My apologies… We just, we can’t get caught.”

Mileena smiles as you press up against her, happy with the turn of events. She knows that you like her just as much as she likes you. She uses this time to tease you by pushing her chest into you and blowing her warm breath against your neck. Her thigh finds its way between your legs. It amuses her to see you try to remain quiet and unbothered by her actions.

“We should try this another time… under different circumstances.”

Tanya tries to remain calm as your bodies are pressed against each other. She can’t believe that you both are in this situation right now… but she doesn’t exactly hate it. You smell so good and your body is so warm. It’s better than what she’d imagined being pressed against you would feel like. The only downfall is that you both were hiding in enemy territory. Oh right… the mission.

“I think we’re all clear. Let’s find a way out of here.”

Bi-Han can’t help grabbing onto your hips as you push him against the wall. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the feeling of your bodies pressing against each other. He only wished it was happening under different circumstances than hiding from the enemy. Maybe after you both get what you came here for, he will finally make a move and make his intentions clear.

“Come, let’s finish up and head back home.”

Kuai Liang would try and create as much distance between you as he could, which would be futile. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Even though all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and hold you tightly, he would contain himself. He respects you and your personal space and all he can do is hope that someday you would want him in it.

“They’re gone. Sorry about that… We can go now.”

Tomas doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps his arms down to his sides, hands gripping his pants legs. That is the only thing he can do to keep himself from reaching out and embracing you. Something that he has longed to do since shortly after meeting you. Why can’t he think of anything besides how stunning you look, even now?

“Do you, uh… Do you think they left? We should probably get going.”

Syzoth’s brain is malfunctioning. He can’t control the way his body reacts to having you in his personal space. He tries to stop the low rumble of a purr-like growl forming in his chest because one, how embarrassing, and two, he doesn’t want to give away your location. You two were hiding from the enemy for goodness sake! This definitely wasn’t the time.

“Um, can we… Maybe we can sneak around the corner.”

Baraka was surprised that you didn’t mind being this close to him. Ever since being affected with Tarkat, nobody wanted to be even a few feet away from him, much less in physical contact. Being this close to you just reminded him of how much he missed physical affection. He hopes that since you aren’t afraid of touching him, his affection for you won’t be rejected.

“Come on, I will fight our way out of here if I must. You don’t have to worry.”

Shang Tsung believes that this is right where you both belong, in each other’s arms. He desires nothing more, not even power or influence (although they’re pretty close), than he desires to be able to hold you close to him daily. He will stop at nothing to convince you that you belong with him. He’ll start by showing you how capable he is by protecting you.

“These imbeciles are no match for my magic. We’ll be out of here shortly.”

Zeffeero bit his lip trying to ignore your thigh pressed against his crotch. You seemed oblivious to your position and just how hard you were making it for him to hold on to his last strands of self-control. How did you not know how you affected him? He thought he was being pretty forward with his flirting but you never seemed to get the hint. Maybe he should talk to that Johnny guy? Later, you two needed to get out of here first.

“Let’s sneak attack him once he turns around. Get ready… Now!”

[seattlesellie]

e. williams — moonflower.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.

warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.

an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗

enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.

the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.

⋆˙⟡♡

you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.

“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.

“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”

louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.

“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”

“how come?”

“it simply shows, pumpkin’”

louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.

ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.

it reminded you of her.

⋆˙⟡♡

ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.

“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”

“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”

you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”

ellie’s breath caged in her throat.

it already does.

“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.

if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.

if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.

⋆˙⟡♡

sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”

you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.

“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡

the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.

balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.

“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”

you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.

joel.

you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.

you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.

“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.

“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”

joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.

“she’s still into it, huh?”

“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.

“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.

“found it last week while i was patrollin’”

“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.

“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.

“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”

joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”

you nearly choked up.

“joel… you should come with me”

joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.

“maybe next birthday, kid”

joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.

⋆˙⟡♡

12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…

well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.

again.

usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”

“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.

when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.

would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.

instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.

it was her morning voice.

funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.

“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”

“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.

“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.

“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”

the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.

the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.

you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”

ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.

“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.

“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”

she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.

“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.

“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.

ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”

ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.

“can’t taste my own cake?”

“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.

“yes ma’am”

⋆˙⟡♡

you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.

impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.

you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”

“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.

“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”

before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!

she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.

for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.

“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”

ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”

ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?

maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.

laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;

“hey” she whispers.

“hi” you whisper back.

ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”

impatient.

you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”

she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”

ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.

“apollo one”

she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.

“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.

⋆˙⟡♡

apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”

ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”

interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.

“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.

“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”

that she hasn’t. yet.

ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.

“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”

sweet? intoxicating?

“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”

nah, she thinks she might be something worse.

slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.

“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.

“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.

“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”

“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.

slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.

“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”

“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?

she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?

her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.

thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.

“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…

“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.

“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.

you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”

“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.

“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“

oh.

ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.

“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.

“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.

“i have wasps”

“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.

“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.

her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.

doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”

“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.

this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.

⋆˙⟡♡

so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.

with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.

what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?

“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.

shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.

besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.

“so… you wanna open them up or not?”

she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)

“fuck yeah”

you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.

the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.

what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—

“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!

“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”

ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…

“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.

“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”

she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.

“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.

“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”

you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…

“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.

“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”

you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.

“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.

“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”

ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.

one whole minute passes.

“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.

you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.

“i’m in love with you”

you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?

“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.

she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…

you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.

like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.

when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.

“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.

still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.

you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.

swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”

she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.

“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.

with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.

with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”

you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”

“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”

you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.

she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“

“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.

“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?

“explode!”

“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.

you’re fuzzy everywhere.

“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”

you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.

as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.

you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”

“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”

“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—

“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”

when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.

she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”

[flemingsfreckles]

I Hate You (18+)

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Preview: Jessie is pissed off after Canada loses again to the US, she ends up finding stress relief in the opposing teams captain.

Warnings: where do I even start… hate-sex, oral sex (r receiving and giving), strap on sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), tit sucking, marking (hickeys and scratching) face sitting, finger sucking, edging, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, some restraining, minor choking, rough sex, cursing

WC: 4.8k words of horniness

A/N: 🫣 I was having a lot of feelings after the she believes match, don’t mind me

“God you’re so fucking annoying, you lost get over it!” You yelled at Jessie. You both had found yourself in the hallway after the She Believes Cup Final. Well, you had followed her down the hallway, wanting to tease her about your victory. When she saw you following her she had told you off, telling you to leave her be.

You had always disliked each other. You and the Canadian midfielder had always ended up playing for rival teams. She played for Canada, you played for the US, she played for UCLA, you played for UNC, she played for Chelsea, you played for Arsenal. The dislike of each other had turned into hatred as you both were named to be new captains of your National teams within days of each other.

You had the same attitude during and after the Gold Cup Semifinal, and naturally you were a dick to her after you had come away victorious, you made a comment or two when you went to shake hands with her.

So when the She Believes Final lead the two of you to be facing off again, you were at each other's throats. You both had fouled each other a couple times in the game, constantly going hard into her and she’d return the favor. You both had been shown yellows and been warned for the language you were using toward each other.

“I’m annoying? You’re annoying, I can’t stand you. With your attitude, walking around like you’re better than everyone.” She throws her hands up.

“No need to be mad Jessie, we’re just better than you. Specifically I’m better.” You snap your own captain's armband in her direction.

“Remind me again what legitimate international trophies you contributed to? A 4 team tournament is meaningless. Last time I checked one of us has a gold and bronze medal, you have what? A bronze that your teammates won for you? And your teammates have World Cup titles, but you weren’t good enough back then to be on those teams were you? You were only good enough to be on the first ever US team to lose round 16!” Jessie was sick of you, sick of how you acted, how you treated her and her other teammates, she had finally snapped.

“Fuck you!” You spit back at her, not appreciating her personal attack. “I was injured in 2019 you asshole.”

“You’re so cocky and yet have nothing to back it up, so fuck you too.”

“I bet you wish you could Fleming. But I’m probably better than you in that regard too!”

Her eyes squint at you before she’s lunging at you, for a second you think she’s about to take out her anger with a punch. Instead her hands find your hips, slamming you hard against the cool brick wall. For a moment the wind is knocked from your lungs and you have to take a deep breath. You really had never seen Jessie get this mad, she had some choice words here and there on the pitch but usually once final time hit she was level headed. She had never insulted you or yelled at you. Yet here she was, her strong arms pinning you hard against the wall.

Something about her change in demeanor was making your stomach buzz. The way she was staring at you was so intense. You shouldn’t be wanting her like this but you were. She leaned into you slightly, her eyes looking at your lips before she closed them. You close yours tilting your chin up to meet hers. That’s when you hear her let out a laugh.

“Oh look at that, you wanted me to kiss you, that’s so cute. Is it cute or embarrassing?” She cocks her head at you. Jessie’s tone is so degrading that you can tell your blushing, your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. You couldn’t believe her behavior, you were usually the meaner of the two of you. She was acting like a completely different person.

“Don’t think this changes anything, I still can’t fucking stand you. But maybe I’ll like you a little bit better bent over.” She whispers in your ear before she releases you from her grasp and turns to leave.

“Room 338, if you want to prove how much better you truly are and put your money where that bratty mouth is.” She says, not even turning back to look at you as she opens the door to the Canada dressing room. The US and Canadian teams were staying in the same hotel, you had passed numerous of their players on the way to and from your room. Getting stuck riding the elevator with them a couple times as well.

With that offer you quickly ran to the locker room, the rest of your teammates already well into their celebrations. You just head to your locker, stripping off your uniform, ignoring your teammates trying to hand you beers, waving them off politely.

“What are you doing? Going home so early?” Sam Coffey slapped a hand across your back, giving you a shake. It was clear the team had already started on the drinking while you were busy yelling in the hallway with Jessie.

“Oh I’m just not feeling great, I’m going to head back to the hotel. Spend some time in bed.” Conveniently you had experienced a migraine a few days before, making your story more believable.

“Damn, alright, get some good rest, I’ll let everyone else know.” She pats your back and turns around singing along to whatever song was being blasted through the speaker.

Without saying another word to anyone, you slip out the locker room door and throw up your hood and start walking in the direction of the hotel, it wasn’t far and you didn’t feel like getting in an Uber.

You’re not sure if you should change or shower before going to Jessie’s room, but thinking back to how she had you against the wall was enough to send a tingle down your spine and had you pressing the elevator button for floor 3 instead of floor 4.

Jessie opens the door almost immediately after you knock and your mouth falls agape. She had answered in just her red biker shorts and black sports bra, the rest of her skin already on display.

“No roommate?” You say peering around her into the room.

“I told her I needed privacy for some captain stuff. Which technically isn’t a lie, we’re both captains.”

You just nod. You didn’t care what she said to her roommate as long as you weren’t going to get walked in on. The door closes behind you as you step into Jessie’s room. Quickly you find yourself against the wall for the second time, being pinned by the Canadian. The only difference is this time her whole body is pressed against yours and her lips are not just teasing you. Her mouth is rough against yours. She tastes like sweat and Gatorade. Skipping regular kissing, Jessie is already opening her mouth against yours, her tongue between your lips.

You return the favor, your tongue grazing hers. You quickly realize you have little to no control here, Jessie was easily taking the dominant position and while you weren’t too opposed, you felt the need to prove her otherwise. You shift your legs, moving one to slot between Jessie’s, placing some force against the apex of the legs. You feel her grind down slightly onto your thigh, giving herself a minor relief from the ache between her legs. As she ground down you took the opportunity to push Jessie back, she stumbled for a step before your hands found her waist, both steadying her but also grabbing her to move her to the bed.

“Lay down.” You say when she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You hated being told what to do as well, but you hated Jessie choosing not to listen even more. Having enough of her mouth, you place your hands on her shoulders shoving her down into the mattress.

“If you’re not going to listen, I’ll do it for you.” You say as your hands hold firm on her shoulders, keeping her on the mattress. She tried to sit up for a second, pushing against your hands before she gives up, relaxing into the bed. Your face is inches above hers. She rolls her eyes at you, which just pisses you off more.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.” You spit back before leaning down to connect your lips again.

Your hand wanders down to m the elastic of her sports bra, pulling it out slightly before letting it snap back on her skin, leaving Jessie whimpering. You repeat the action a few more times, liking the way she would squirm when you held the band away from her, knowing the snap of the elastic against her skin was coming. You liked the pretty noises she made against your lips when you released the band and it smacked her already red and tender skin.

Having enough of your teasing, Jessie’s hands found their way to the bottom of her bra, she pulled it up releasing her breasts. You couldn’t help but pull back from the kiss to look at her chest. Moving your hands to cup both of her tits, your thumbs find her already pebbled nipples, rubbing over them quickly. Jessie arches into your touch. You move your mouth down to capture one nipple between your lips, sucking hard. You then move to leave harsh kisses on both of her tits.

When you have had enough of giving her pleasure, you move your mouth to her neck. You find where her neck meets her collarbone and you start to suck, hard. Her hand flies up to the back of your neck, pulling gently on the hair at the base of your head.

“Fuck, don’t leave a mark.”

Taking you lips off of her skin for a moment you let out a grunt, “What? Too scared your teammates will find out you let me take control of you?”

“Fine leave marks I don’t care, but I get to leave them on you too.” She huffs. You weren’t opposed to the idea, you secretly loved being marked up, the constant reminder of your escapades when you would change or shower. You’d just have to face your teammates knowing you let the Canadian fuck you. They’d also know you lied about feeling sick to go fuck her.

Your lips meet Jessie’s in an aggressive kiss, you pinch her bottom lip between your teeth and pull hard on it while you grab the back of her thighs to move her to the middle of the bed. The older girl lets out a mix between a moan and a squeal as you move her. You place her down and your hands trail up to the top of her biker shorts.

“I’m going to take those off, okay?” Sure you couldn’t stand the girl but you were still going to ask before you stripped her last layer of clothing off. You were an ass but you had your limits.

“Do it.” Jessie lifts her hips to let you slide the tight material down, tossing them across the room.

You grabbed at her inner thighs, giving them a tight squeeze, your nails digging into her skin, leaving small marks. You push her legs open and back, putting her pussy on display to you. You could see she was already wet. The sight of her had you licking your lips.

“For a captain you’re really letting me push you around right now.” You say not looking up from where your eyes were fixated between her legs.

“Shut the fuck up.” She glares at you.

“Make me!” You tease back expecting her to kiss you to shut you up.

Jessie took your challenge literally and in a different direction, she closed her legs, your hands falling from her legs and she pushed you so now you were flat on your back with her holding you to the bed. “I can do that.”

She starts to straddle you, her thighs resting on either side of your stomach. For a second her core brushes against your navel and a small string of arousal connects the two of you. She doesn’t stay on your waist long, she keeps moving upward. That’s when you realize exactly what she's doing. She was moving to sit on your face. She was going to shut you up by sitting on your face.

She pauses when her knees settle on either side of your head. You can smell her, you try to lift your head, your tongue out, reaching to taste her. Her hand comes down on your forehead pushing you gently back to the bed. “No.” She shakes her head at you. Looking up at her had your head spinning, you may hate the girl but fuck she was hot, the way she was looking down at you and her perfect body was hovering above you.

Giving in to what you wanted, but on her terms Jessie lowered herself over your mouth and your senses are immediately filled with the taste, smell, and feeling of her pussy. Your tongue runs all over her, from her entrance to her clit and back, getting familiar with her. Jessie is letting out soft moans, music to your ears. Her hips grind down harder into you when your tongue passes over her clit so you give in to what she wants and wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, sucking on it while using your tongue to flick at it.

It doesn’t take long until Jessie starts moving her hips on her own, riding your face instead of just sitting on it. Moving your hands up to grip her ass, you help guide her movements. Her hand has a tight grip in your hair and you’re allowing her to turn and tilt your head where she needs you. Your tongue and lips still focus on her clit as her movements become more erratic.

“I’m going to cum.” Jessie’s voice comes out raspy. “Fuck.” You open your eyes to see her throwing her head back, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth as she lets out a few moans. Her hips jolt a few times, roughly against your face before they stop and she lifts herself away from your tongue. You let out a small whine, wanting to taste her more. Jessie’s eyes move to meet yours, and a smirk creeps across her lips.

“I guess that mouth is good for more than just smartass comments.” She uses her thumb to collect the wetness from your chin before she pushes her finger against your lips. “Suck.” You happily listen, opening your mouth to suck Jessie’s arousal off her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact with her as your tongue swirled over her finger. A short moan falls from Jessie’s lips as her mouth falls open as she watches you suck her finger. She pulls her finger from your lips resulting in a pop before she climbs off of you and moves over to the corner where what you assumed was her suitcase lay.

You can’t quite see what she’s doing but when she turns back she has a strap on in her hand.

“I didn’t take you to be a purple kind of girl.” You point at the purple dildo attached to the harness.

“What's that supposed to mean?” She’s still standing across the room holding the strap now looking at it in her hand.

“I dunno, figured you’d go with blue or maybe just clear.” You shrug, you didn’t even mean anything by the words, the color had just genuinely surprised you. “You just always bring that in your suitcase?” Jessie did not seem like the type to just be bringing sex toys in her suitcase, she was surprising you in all kinds of ways today.

“Not usually, unless I know I’m going to use it. But I had a weird feeling it might come in handy this week. Do you want me to use it?”

“I mean sure, if you need the assistance of a toy to get me off then that’s fine. Some people aren’t good in bed without some assistance.” Pushing her buttons was fun, you knew she could probably get you off with her tongue or her fingers but you desperately wanted her to prove it. The strap was quickly tossed onto the bed next to you, Jessie abandoning it to grab your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Her hands came to the waist of your sweats, gripping both your pants and underwear between her fingers. “Can I?” You nod, lifting your hips to let her swiftly pull down your pants leaving you bare from the waist down. You take a second to pull your shirt and bra off, saving Jessie from having to do so. She’s quick to place her hands on your chest, giving a firm squeeze to both of your breasts. Her mouth follows and she trails hot, wet kisses up from between your tits to your neck where she returns the favor and sucks hard. She then works her way back down your neck, leaving more marks across your collarbone and the swell of your breasts.

Her actions already had you letting out shakey moans, your hips bucking slightly, begging for contact, for any kind of release. She laughs against your skin as your hips begin moving more frequently.

Jessie moves off of you, for a second completely removing her touch from your body. Kneeling at the end of the bed, she pulls your knees to sit over her shoulders before her hands grab your hips and she plunges her face into where you were already a dripping mess. Vibrations run across your pussy as Jessie moans into you at the taste of your arousal.

She’s quick to focus on your clit, the spot that has you already grabbing at her hair, pulling her close and profanities falling from your lips. You didn’t want to cum already, not only would that be embarrassing having to admit how good she was in bed but you also didn’t want the pleasure to end.

You end up betraying yourself, your brain telling you to wait, move away so you didn’t cum right away, but your body wanted the pleasure, it wanted release. You instead helped Jessie, using the hand in her hair to guide her directly where you needed her. It was only a few minutes later that your legs were shaking on her shoulders. Grinding against her mouth, your head fell back, a groan leaving your body as your legs wrapped around her head tightly. You continued thrusting yourself against her mouth, riding out the extent of your orgasm before your legs loosened and Jessie was able to remove her mouth from you.

Just as you start to catch your breath from your first orgasm, Jessie’s fingers are pushing into you. Your pussy clenches tightly around them, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. Her thrusts start slow but firm getting you used to the feeling of her thick fingers deep inside of you.

“Fuck Jessie.”

“That’s right, let everyone know who’s taking care of you.” Her eyes are dark as she looks up at you from between your legs. She looks fucked, her baby hairs sticking out in every direction from where your hands had been, her lips are swollen and the entire lower half of her face is still slick with your arousal. Not to mention the deep red markings your mouth has made are starting to develop darker across on her neck.

Knowing you made her look like that sends another wave of arousal through your body. Her teammates were going to know that she got laid when she goes to training in two days. So would your teammates. But maybe they wouldn’t know you fucked each other, for some reason you liked that, it was your dirty little secret.

Jessie picks up the pace with her fingers, curling them everytime she buries them fully. Still on the high from your first orgasm, you can feel the second one building quickly, feeling yourself start to tighten on her fingers.

“Fuck I’m going to cum Jessie.” With your warning Jessie brings her tongue back to your clit, with one swipe you’re clenching around her fingers, your thighs closing themselves around her head. Your hips thrust, fucking yourself on her fingers to ride out your second orgasm.

Jessie takes her tongue away and her fingers slide out of you. You look down at her where she remaining kneeling at the edge of the bed.

“My tongue and fingers do a damn good job on their own, I just think toys can be fun too.”

“Put it on then.” You grab the strap that was next to you on the bed, tossing it between your legs at Jessie. She stands up, situating the harness around her waist and tightening the straps. You stay where you are, legs dangling over the side of the bed while you wait for Jessie.

She comes over to you, grabbing your thighs, her hands finding the bend of your knee, holding your legs open and back. You watch her face as she spits, a trail of saliva leaving her mouth and landing on the tip of the strap. In awe of her action you lay there, mouth open, eyes wide. You had never been someone that was explicitly into spitting during sex, but seeing her spit on the dildo had you reconsidering.

You’d let her spit in your mouth like that, you think to yourself.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the feeling of the silicone rubbing over your pussy. Jessie gives a few teasing thrusts, just grazing your clit with the head, spreading your wetness down the length of her dick.

The tip finds your entrance and Jessie pushes into you, you both let out moans as she easily bottoms out inside of you. She then pulls back, just letting the tip stay inside of you and pushes herself back in fully in a fluid motion. Jessie quickly picks up a rhythm, not too fast but not slow, each thrust is forceful, you feel your tits bouncing and bring your hands up to play with your nipples.

“You’re fucking hot.” Jessie says as her eyes watch your fingers pinch and caress your chest.

“You look so good fucking me.” You responded to her, you hated her but in the moment that hatred was all turned into lust.

Jessie keeps her pace, after a minute you’re already a mess, strings of moans uncontrollably falling from your lips. When Jessie moves to lay down on top of you, you nearly lose it. Your hands come to her back ranking your nails against her skin as she’s able to fuck even deeper into you. You knew you were leaving red streaks down her back that everyone would see when she changed at training.

“I’m going to,” starting to warn her that your third orgasm was building. Before you can finish the sentence she pulls out.

“What the fuck?” You yell. Eyes snapping open to give Jessie a glare. Jessie’s hand is quick to be on your chin, gripping it hard between her thumb and index finger, her other three fingers are on your throat forcing you to look at her. The grip on your face is so hard it’s nearly painful, but you liked it. The feeling of her three fingers on your neck has your heart racing and you’re sure she can feel it in your pulse.

“What? You thought you’d be able to do this without a little teasing? I still hate you, I’m not just going to give you what you want.” She releases your jaw from her grasp and moves your hands to your hips.

“I hate you.” You had said it numerous times tonight, and you meant it or at least you thought you did.

“Flip over.” She demands, wanting to just be able to get the release you were so close to you to listen to her, flipping yourself over so your feet were now on the ground as you bent over the bed, your sensitive nipples making contact with the rough hotel bed sheets.

You feel Jessie’s hands grip your ass, spreading you slightly, and then you hear her spit, followed by the feeling of her saliva running down your pussy.

“Come on Jessie.” Pushing your ass back toward her you hope it’ll encourage her to move a bit quicker.

“What would your teammates say if they knew I had their captain bent over for me, pathetically begging for my cock?”

“Jessie.” Your hands grip at the bedsheet, you need her to finish what she started.

“What?” Her voice sounds annoyed.

“I hate you.” You’re not sure if that’s going to piss her off more or encourage her to fuck you again. But you get the answer quickly.

“I hate you,” she responds as she completely fills you from behind. She starts again, punctuating each word she says with a rough thrust, “you're. a. cocky. little. brat. egotistical. can’t. fucking. stand. you. you. always. have. an. attitude. fucking. pain. in. the. ass.”

She pauses. Her hips stalled with the tip of her strap just barely inside of you.

“Nothing to say back?” You can practically hear the smile on her face. “It’s about time you shut that smartass mouth of yours, is that all you needed this whole time? For me to fuck your shitty ego out of you?” She grabs your hair pulling you off the bed so your back is flush to her front.

“Look at me.” She demands but also doesn’t give you much of a choice as she’s gripping your head in her hands and can easily turn your face. “Is that what you needed? My fingers, and mouth, and cock? You just needed someone to fuck you properly?” You’re trying to focus on her words but all your brain can think about is how the tip of the strap is pressed against your entrance.

“Yes Jessie.” Your neck is starting to hurt from the angle she was holding you in, thankfully answering her question got you shoved back into the mattress bent over and Jessie’s cock thrusting back into you. Her hands firm on your ass. Using her arms to pull you to meet her thrusts.

“Cum for me, make sure everyone knows who fixed that attitude.” She gives a hard squeeze on your ass.

“Oh my god Jessie, fuck.”

“That’s it.”

“Jessie, Jessie, please.” You can’t do anything besides chant her name. She was consuming every aspect of you, she was all you could think of being overwhelmed with pleasure. You knew her teammates would be able to hear, thankful your teammates were likely still out celebrating, even though your rooms were on a different floor, you were pretty sure the whole hotel could hear you screaming her name as you came on her strap. There goes what you thought would be your dirty little secret.

With one last drawn out moan of her name, you go limp on the bed, Jessie still thrusting into you, moving your whole body. Your knees give out and Jessie’s hands move to your waist to hold you from slipping off the bed. She slows her thrusts, giving you long, drawn out movements to work through your third orgasm. She pulls out when your hand comes up behind your back to push her away.

You hear the sound of the strap hitting the ground and feel Jessie climb on the bed next to you. She lays on her stomach, mimicking your position, turning her face to look at yours. She’s got red cheeks, hair still crazy, and a small amount of sweat on her forehead. You catch a glimpse of the red streaks you left down her back, they would definitely still be there tomorrow. She’s also got a huge grin on her face.

“Hmm, the one orgasm you gave me versus the three I just gave you… seems like I’m actually the ones who’s better.” It’s now her cocky attitude showing through.

“I never said we were done Fleming, I have some hatred of you left.” You push yourself up with what strength you have left. Playing 90 minutes and then three orgasms takes a lot of energy. You move to straddle Jessie. You had to at least give her two more, tie it up, but you’d be happy to take the lead. Needless to say it was the start of a very long evening for the two of you.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Bound to Apologise

Summary: Aemond upsets his wife and forms a punishment fit for a Prince, feat. subby!Aemond | Word Count: 5.6k | Warnings below the cut~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: subby!Aemond x wife!reader, p in v, oral (m receiving), use of a belt as bondage, orgasm denial, breeding kink I guess, Aemond blueballs Targaryen

When one thinks of Aemond Targaryen, a few descriptors come to mind.

 Stoic, stiff, perhaps brazen on occasion and when the opportunity should present itself, he has quite the silver tongue. He is a man who is sure of himself in identity, fiercely proud of his Targaryen ancestry, his skills with the sword and his deep and well-founded knowledge of history and philosophy, a fact he rivals smugly against his older brother at any occasion he is able.

 It is not as if Aegon cares much for rivalries of the mind. No, Aegon’s knowledge that is worthy of bragging in his mind is that of the flesh, and he makes sure to flaunt such knowledge in Aemond’s face at any chance.

 That is until Aemond took a wife.

 It had been almost half a year since Aemond was wed to his sweet wife in the Sept. An arranged affair, of course, and the two had scarcely seen one another beforehand, so even now he remembered the way he held his hands behind his back, wound tight with nerves, wondering what kind of person she was. It felt wrong to be tied so intimately and indefinitely to another person without really truly knowing them.

 She had smiled sweetly on that day, kissed him softly once their vows were exchanged, a faint blush at her cheeks while standing before her now husband. The wife of Aemond Targaryen. It felt so final, and she could not help the fluttering in her stomach.

 Aemond on the other hand had barely cracked a smile, simply kissed her, as he was duty-bound to do, and said his vows. She was pretty, yes. But he almost felt bad. What did this woman, illuminated so softly by the warm rays of light, have to gain by marriage to someone she surely found repulsive? Aemond hadn’t missed the various hushed conversations his mother had with Otto, the door cracked slightly ajar.

 He had a reputation amongst the ladies. Some desired him purely for his title and placing their family name on a high podium, their future children into the bargain. Some were repulsed by his fiery temper, those long, hard looks he gave everyone. And perhaps most notably, they were frightened of the One-Eyed Prince, on this moniker alone. ‘Aemond One-Eye would never find a wife’.

 Despite the incident being several years ago, it still raised its ugly head every now and then, in the form of self-consciousness, hushed female whispers and side-glances throughout the Keep. Most Lords and Ladies appreciated his skills from afar, never treading that delicate path in between that would bring them closer to him, which is precisely why it was difficult to even court a woman. Nevermind marriage.

 And yet, when his new wife had looked upon him at their wedding feast, she’d given him a sweet smile, looked deeply into his good eye and showed no signs of repulsion. It confused him for a moment. Was she making a mockery of him? By pretending not to be afraid or repelled by him on purpose? Hiding what she truly felt inside. Holding the bile in her throat at the thought of consummation? He blamed her flush on her face on the two cups of wine she had consumed.

 He was immensely relieved to have been proven wrong.

 Once the chamber doors were closed, she was clearly nervous, as any young maiden would be on her wedding night. With every aching second she removed the pins from her hair, Aemond stood before the fireplace, his heart hammering in his chest with nerves. He didn’t want to have to bare his soul to her. He didn’t know her. And the thought of forcing such a delicate little thing to gaze upon his affliction, watching her face contort into one of disgust, was eating away at his insides, his insecurities feeding on the buzz of the wine.

 She looked so pure and gentle in her off-white, thin chemise, leaving extremely little to the imagination. And with her hair down, waved from the braids, she looked positively mythical.

 Aemond swallowed and began to unclasp his doublet. She must have seen his true feelings beneath his poorly-hidden expression, because she’d stopped before him, a small hand laid delicately on his arm. A silent confirmation, that she was just as nervous as he was.

 “I do not wish to frighten you, my lady”

 Her heart could have broken, but instead it merely shuddered with his words.

 “Do you believe you frighten me?” she asked.

 Aemond’s silence had confirmed it.

 “You are my husband. And I, your wife. You may show me as much of yourself as you deem comfortable and I will not judge”

 Though brief, her comforting words gave him the confidence to consummate their marriage. At first it was clumsy, the way their lips had pressed against one another, and the clamouring at her body, laid entirely bare for him to feast upon. As with any wedding night, there was some discomfort, both for her and him, but for different reasons.

 But he was gentle, which surprised her and elated her in equal measure. And the sting of the loss of the maidenhead gave way to blooming pleasure, alongside something else. Perhaps a closeness that neither of them expected to have after just a few hours of knowing one another. But she hadn’t shied away from him, as he expected her to. On occasion during the act, she held his face so softly he trembled, struggling to fathom that this woman wanted him.

 They had left it only an hour before he was inside her again, where he now found sanctuary in her acceptance of him.

 In the moons that had passed since then, she had been his haven. His escape. She was so good to him, accepting of his desire to take his time in showing himself to her.

 Three moons after their wedding night, he finally pulls off his eyepatch, after a particularly long evening of lovemaking. She was laid next to him, the bed sheets tucked around her chest. Her lips parted when she saw what he’d been hiding underneath his eyepatch all this time, and she felt an undeniable closeness to him that was not there before.

 His scar felt raised beneath the gentleness of her fingers, but it was a look of sheer wonder, watching the way the sapphire that replaced his eye adopted the amber glow of the candles.

 Aemond felt his heart thunder and his cock get hard, when all she asked was for him to fuck her again.

 And he did with a new-found enthusiasm, a warm feeling blossomed in his chest, holding her form beneath him and fucking her relentlessly into the mattress, so hard that the bedframe struggled. He moaned loudly, giving her his seed and praying that it took, so that he could see his precious wife grow round with his child.

 It took him an entire moon to figure out that he not only respected her, but had come to love her.

 His wife, shy and timid perhaps at first, had become rather a force to be reckoned with. Their intimacy with one another had awakened something not only in her, but in him as well. At first, he delighted in having power and dominance over her, being quite a lot taller and broad, which he was wholly proud to have on display in the comfort of their chambers. He loved every little one of her whines and moans, drawing peak after devastating peak from her until she quivered in his touch.

 It had become a nightly routine. Sometimes several times in one night.

 Who would have thought that Aemond Targaryen, every now and then, enjoyed having such power taken away sometimes.

 It had started innocently enough. After so many moons being married and proving their love to one another every night, his sweet wife had sought for some variety and instead had clambered on top of him and sank on his cock, guiding the pace herself. Her hands steadied on his chest for leverage, her backside smacking against his thighs with every rough thrust of herself onto him.

 Alongside the dizzying feeling of watching his cock disappear into her cunt over and over, reaching new places in this new position, he found being held down exhilarating. Dare he say, even pleasurable. It made something wind tight as a bowstring in his gut.

 It seemed like she noticed this, as a lazy smirk graced her face.

 Ever since then they had experimented with that sensation. The feeling of one partner having full control, being held down, even tied sometimes. It was something reserved solely for them, behind their chamber doors. In the morning, when they break their fast with his family, he is once again the stone-faced, stoic Aemond Targaryen.

 Although it does not stop her from shooting knowing grins in his direction on the odd occasion, which makes his cheeks go a very fair pink, the tips of his ears burn and his breeches get inexplicably tighter.

 He enjoys this new side to his wife. It was buried deep, but now that he sees it, it never fails to surprise him.

 Which brings him to this moment. The moment when he knows he has said or done something to irk her.

 Her sister had arrived at the Red Keep alongside her father to visit her for a few days. Unlike his dear wife, her sister was still young and unmarried, and unbearably innocent. As soon as Aegon had laid his eyes on her little sister, his eyes gleamed with mischief, as if he’d seen a shiny new version of his favourite toy, but one that was actually available.

 He wasn’t even deterred by the firm look she’d given him.

 She and her sister walked arm in arm to the main hall, where they would dine all together that evening. Her sister spoke excitedly, happy to be brought to the Red Keep for the first time and to be reunited with her beloved eldest sibling.

 Aemond and Aegon were chatting idly at the table when they’d arrived, her sister went to one side of the table to be sat next to their father. The two brothers, who usually were not so well-acquainted and chatting in such a friendly manner, were so engrossed in their conversation and their cups, that they barely acknowledged her presence.

 All the better that Aemond’s back was to her as well.

 “She is a lovely looking girl, but it is a shame she is so terribly dim-witted” Aegon chuckled, “A family trait, I presume?”

 Aemond, dizzy from the effects of his wine, chuckled.

 “Perhaps”

 She’d bitten her cheek in frustration. Was he so deep in his cups that he actually found Aegon funny? Not only that, but had humoured him in insulting not only her sister’s intelligence, but his own wife’s as well.

 She pulled her chair out beside him loudly, and Aemond went red and jumped in surprise, dread prickled all over his skin. She gave him a mischievous, knowing smile as she sat, “Husband” is all she greeted him with.

 Aegon, who found the entire situation hilarious, had left him with that and as Aemond took his seat next to his wife, straight-backed and instantly sober, he bit his lips several times throughout the evening. She didn’t spare him a single word nor glance, unless he spoke to her directly, in which she forced a pleasant enough smile to her face and gave him one word answers. Playing the pliant little wife, while at the same time letting him know that he would not get off so easily.

 She thought, once, that she may have taken her retribution a bit too far. But it was fun if nothing else, to watch how frustrated Aemond got.

 She did not lay with him that night, nor the night after. Nor the night after that.

 When her sister and father departed King’s Landing, he thought this might be the reprieve. But he was wrong.

 It had been a full week since he had touched his wife intimately, not because he didn’t want to, he’d tried a fair few times. But every time, she had dismissed him with that playful smirk, the same one she had when she’d clambered atop his lap for the first time. And though her outfits and mannerisms remained the same as always, after being denied the pleasure of his flesh to hers for so long, every sway of her hips, every glint of her eyes and every movement of her hands had his breeches pathetically tight.

 She knew what she was doing as well, the little tease.

 He was aching. And it became too much. Not only did she deprive him of her sweet, tight cunny. She barely spoke to him. And the silence and barely-contained need to be inside her, was all too much to bear.

 She was in their chambers, sat before the fire, a large tome open in her lap and when she’d heard the chamber doors shut, her eyes had met that of an extremely pent up husband.

 But instead of greeting him, she bit back a smile and turned back to her book.

 That little-

 “Wife” he greeted through gritted teeth.

 “Husband”

 She didn’t fool him with the sweetness of her voice.

 “What are you doing?” he asked, half-desperate and half-irritated as he crossed the room to sit opposite her.

 “Reading, my love. So that I may grow to have acceptable intelligence”

 His nostrils flare in annoyance, and yet he can’t deny the way she acts has a profound effect on him, after a week of not being able to have her, he’s desperate for anything. Even just the brushing of her hand, he is convinced, would make him spill in his breeches.

 “You know as well as I that is not what I meant”

 She slowly closes the book, righting to stand in front of him, her eyes trickling over his form. She knows him well now. Knows how underneath this cold exterior he offers up to her, is a desperate man underneath, yearning for a taste of her affections. His body sparks up at her hungry eyes over him.

 “Then I do not know what you mean, husband” she replies, barely able to stop the spread of her smile, “You shall have to elaborate”

 His hands form tight fists. She’s right there, ripe for the taking, his sweet wife. How easy would it be to sling her over his shoulder and take her right there on the bed, still dressed in her finery, with her skirts rucked up over her hips.

 “I mean-” he starts, “-you and I have not laid together for the better part of a week”

 She cocks her head, “Oh? Is that so?” she answers sweetly, “Forgive me, I hadn’t noticed”

 He’s stunned into a sort of shocked silence, mouth slightly open, but without the headspace to form a reply. His wife pretended to busy herself with other things, placing the book back and dusting the covers, something she knew would get him riled up.

 “What is this game, wife”

 When she turns to him with that faux-innocence smile on her face, unable to hide how amused she is at how outwardly her husband is showing his frustration, Aemond can feel his limbs go numb.

 “I do not believe you are in any position to accuse me of anything, husband” she counters, crossing the room in deliberately small steps, “In fact, I do believe I am owed an apology of sorts”

 Her brow twitches slightly. She knows. She knows she has him exactly where she wants him.

 As much as he tries to ignore the way her attitude makes his breeches get tighter, all of his blood goes straight below his waistline.

 “But I can see, in your true Targaryen male nature, that you will not apologise…with words that is” she says, a wider smile gracing her face. An almost mischievous one.

 Aemond swallows thickly.

 He clears his throat, blinking a few times at what she just said, “Perhaps…you might enlighten me on how I can make amends”

 Got you.

 “Give me your belt” she instructs.

 It’s borderline pathetic, the speed in which he tries to unbuckle it from his doublet and his fingers fumble with the silver, the embarrassment evident in the way it clinks clumsily. He pulls it through the loops and extends the leather towards his wife. She lets his hand hang there for a moment, as if to extend his internal torment, before she takes it, her fingers slipping over the roughened edges.

 “Take off your clothes, leave your breeches on” her voice is clipped and deadly serious, “then get on the bed”

 She watched from the foot of the bed as he did, twisting the belt in her hands as she regarded him. Saw the way his breath had hitched as she instructed him to do something and the way his pupils swallowed the violet of his eye. He was desperate. And the longer she went without saying or doing anything, the more the excitement and anticipation was starting to build in his core.

 “My dear husband” she says, still fully clothed but clambering onto the bed beside him, “You have wronged me in a manner most unbefitting”

 Her voice was low, the same way it would be when they were alone together, coupling.

 Gently she pulls both his wrists together, tying them first before raising them to the bed frame, sliding the leather through the buckle and pulling his skin flush to it. She pulls on it a few times, to make sure it is secure. Smiling down at him when she confirms he is not able to move.

 His chest moves hurriedly, a warm, fluttering expectancy erupts in his gut.

 “And all you have been able to think about is our coupling, or rather lack of” she smirks, pulling a large pin from her hair so it falls around her shoulders. Looking up at his dear wife from this angle, in this position, will never cease to be thrilling.

 Her small fingers slide under his eyepatch, depositing it on the bedside, so that she may see all of him.

 He would never ever reveal beyond their chambers how he enjoys to see her, eyes half-shut looking down at him, exerting her own version of dominance over him. And he was eternally grateful that she never told a soul either. It would embarrass him beyond measure. He could only stand to be embarrassed in front of her.

 Even though she was very much in charge, she did so in her own feminine way. Used her body differently, her words even.

 He doesn’t think he will ever tire of it.

 “Would you like to fuck me, husband” she asks low, nudging his knees apart so that she can kneel between them. It doesn’t fail to set his blood alight, the way she says such vulgar things…and make it sound so right.

 As her fingers begin to undo his breeches, his hips move and so do his hands against the bed frame. It sets that grin on her face again.

 “Yes, I do…I have missed you”

 Her fingers start to peel his breeches from his hips, exposing the pale skin underneath, and he almost sighs in relief to feel her soft hands on his bare skin.

 She cocks her head, looking at him, “What makes you think I will let you fuck me?”

 A sort of dread…disappointment  pools in his stomach, but alongside that, arousal. He cannot tell if she is serious or merely teasing him, and it is the in-between of not knowing that makes his head feel as if there is cotton stuffed into it instead of thoughts.

 “Fucking is a reward” she starts, “and you have not been good”

 Once his breeches are off, or at least down to his toned thighs, enough where she can see his manhood, aching and swollen against his taut abdomen, hardened from his years of training with the sword. The tip is flushed, the same colour as his lips, with a milky arousal leaking from it. She is sure that with one touch, he could simply come undone, and it makes her smirk wickedly.

 “I will forgive you…on one condition”

 Gods, how badly he wants her to just touch him already. With his cock now exposed to them both, her hands so close, it’s borderline unbearable to be teased like this.

 “Anything, please…”

 A flush blossoms on her cheeks. She always did like it when he begged.

 “You must not peak, until I say”

 Aemond almost goes bright red. This is territory that has not been tread before. And yet, he can’t deny the excitement it sends through him, the way the air is instantly knocked out of his lungs, and how his hands tug slightly against the belt.

 He outright moans as her small hand encircles his cock, giving a few languid pumps, squeezing when she gets to the tip, brushing her thumb over the sensitive slit. Now that she has given her order, her demand, all he can seem to think about is his peak, and how hard he is concentrating to not do it too soon.

 “You seem more sensitive than usual, husband” she coos, her other hand placed on his thigh, only barely squeezing, “have you missed me that much?”

 “Yes…” he responds through slightly gritted teeth, unable to take the breathiness out of his tone.

 “Hm” she hums, dipping her head to his waistline, making him suck in a quiet breath, “Let us see if you can be good then”

 She flatters her tongue against the underside of his length, dragging up achingly slow to the slit, her hand still applying pressure as she makes her way up. When she gets to the slit, her eyes meet her husband's.

 There's that damn smile again.

 Aemond shudders a breath, looking into her eyes while she has his cock on her tongue is only spurring him on, so he shuts his eyes, tipping his head back against the pillows. His hands tug at the belt. Wanting morning more than to just run his fingers through her hair.

 "Look at me" she orders.

 When he does, his jaw slackens, cheeks warm as her hot mouth envelops him entirely. Pushing down to take more of him, her hand strokes whatever else she cannot fit. Aemond watches her take him with every slow bob of her head, pushing his cock against her hot throat, warm, wet and inviting.

 If he is good, he may get something else.

 From this angle, her breasts are dangerously close to spilling from her dress, and he watches them move as she continues to suck him, her tongue curled up to press against the prominent vein on the underside. After a week of not having him, she relishes the taste of him. How he smells faintly of sweat and leather, and how badly she wants more of it.

 She plunges her mouth down further, til her lips are against the base and Aemond moans out loudly. His tip lodges the back of her throat, and while well endowed, she has learned to take him as deep as she can, until she softly gags, tightening her throat around him.

 She is testing him. Seeing how far she can push him as she pleasures him with a renewed vigour, humming around him, sending little jolts of pleasure up his spine.

 It was his biggest weakness, taking him into her mouth. And to be so clearly pleased to do it as well. Merely watching the way his length disappears between her plush lips is nothing short of heavenly.

 He bets her cunny is wet from this alone.

 It very nearly makes him peak, those sparks are there most certainly. Especially the way her throat contracts around him.

 But he holds back the reins. For now.

 She pulls off him with a soft, wet pop, making a show of licking her lips to taste his precum.

 "You are blushing, my love" she says, and he knows even without looking she is smirking again.

 "Please…" he murmurs, "...do not tease me any longer"

 She cocks her head again, pretending to not know what he means.

 "Is my mouth inadequate?"

 He shakes his head quickly, feeling his hair begin to stick to his nape with the effort of holding back his peak.

 "No-no…I just need you"

 "Need what" she grins, moving to straddle him.

 Aemond's eye widens here. Her dress is fanned out, and underneath he feels her bare form pressed against his aching cock.

 The vixen had not had small clothes on this entire time.

 And after using her mouth to pleasure him, she was soaked.

 It was most like her. She always did everything with purpose. Always one step ahead.

 She smiles when she sees it click in his mind and she moves her hips, dragging her slick over his length, making his eye flutter.

 "Say it"

 He swallows, tugging against the belt. He half thinks of requesting to touch her. But he knows she would not allow it.

 "I need to be inside you"

 She raises her eyebrows.

 "Please" he finishes.

 She pulls the front of her dress up, to give him a good view of her wet cunny, spreading her slick over him and he almost moans at just that. It's a sight to behold. The feeling…even more indescribable.

 "My poor, silly husband" she coos, taking his length in her hand, using her palm to coat the entirety with her arousal, "...you came here to say something. Now is the time"

 She raises her hips, his tip not even touching her, but the anticipation of it is too much. Aemond, almost subconsciously, bucks his hips up. Only to be met with her pushing him back down.

 "Stay still" she says firmly, "or you will not fuck me at all"

 His chest moves quickly, clenching his fists, his whole body feeling unbearably hot.

 She waits, with that glint in her eye. She really would do it. She would clamber off him and not fuck him, just for the satisfaction that she knew he wanted her, and that it had been denied.

 "I…apologise…" he mutters quietly.

 She doesn't move.

 "For?"

 He grunts, frustrated. Too busy thinking of him sliding through her folds, nestled in her cunny.

 "For saying such things about you…"

 She tuts, with an amused grin, "We shall test your loyalty, husband. Remember…you need my permission"

 Whatever Aemond was going to say is stuck in his throat as she sinks on him, enveloping him entirely in her slick heat. She does it slowly, so that he might feel every inch of her, every ridge inside. And when her backside sits on his thighs, moving her hips side to side, his tip nudges her sweet spot, the curve of his long, delicious length finding it effortlessly.

 He has to briefly close his eye, not look at her, so that he doesn't get too overwhelmed. After a week of not having her, she feels so perfectly tight, so much so it feels as if her cunt is milking him already. He cannot get too tied up in the feeling, lest he lose her forgiveness.

 The sound he lets out when she begins to move is almost pained, one that feels like it takes all his strength from his muscles.

 He looks up at her, her hair cascading over her shoulders with every shallow thrust inside, with that tell-tale pink to her cheeks from the effort of it. He can feel her arousal weeping out of her, coating his length and smacking against the base, that alongside his barely-contained moans.

 Her hands trail up his bare torso and he can feel gooseflesh erupt in the path she leaves. Her soft palms trace the expanse of his chest, and she doesn’t miss the way his stomach muscles tense up as she hastens her pace while she touches him. It’s only when her fingers apply a feather-like touch against his nipples that she finally gets a breathy moan from him.

 It only adds more fuel to her fire.

 Every touch, as small as they are, with how pent up Aemond had been, is hurtling him towards that edge. He can feel every inch of her perfect insides, squeezing him as she nears even herself. His stomach does flips, a familiar flutter getting stronger inside.

 “Please…wife…” she barely manages to say.

 She smiles, her chest moving quickly with the effort of their lovemaking. Her thighs ache in the most wonderful way, her cunt stretching around his girth, the tip kissing her end, filling her so deliciously.

 “Please what”

 “I want to touch you…please” he begs, his fists still tight and pressed against the bed frame.

 He takes a much needed breath when she slows down, merely circling her hips against his pelvis instead.

 “Are you close, my love?” she asks sweetly, leaning up to grasp the belt in one hand.

 Aemond nods, not trusting his own voice, lest it betray the inner turmoil inside. But she sees it. She doesn’t miss a thing.

 She cocks her head, half of her wants to reprimand him for not using his words to reply to her. But the other half feels how his cock throbs inside her, aching for completion, to paint her walls with his spend.

 “Very well” she smirks, undoing his bondage, “but you may only touch me here”

 She guides his now free hands to her clothed hips, keeping hers on top to make it clear how serious she is. Even now, merely touching her, through clothes it doesn't matter, it’s like some kind of torture.

 He grabs her hips tightly and backs himself up against the pillow in a half-sitting position, causing his length to press up inside her, he doesn’t miss the small gasp she emits. She’s close as well, he can tell.

 He fucks up into her with renewed passion, and her head tilts back, her lips parted only slightly to allow her quiet but wanton moans to slip out. Her sounds are like a reward. But he knows he is still denied the greatest one of all. One that seems more and more difficult to hold back the tighter she clenches around him, her fingers digging into the flesh of his wrists. There was something exciting about her being fully clothes while he fucked her. It almost felt forbidden. But exciting all the same.

 He can feel her slowly losing her resolve as he pounds harshly into her, as if he is letting out all his frustrations.

 “-Fuck…Aemond…” she breathes, “-Don’t stop-”

 His breath comes in hurried pants, wanting her to feel good but at the same time holding himself back. He can feel the pressure inside, fit to burst at any moment.

 “My perfect wife…”

 “-Aemond, I’m close-”

 She pulls up the front of her dress, her small slender fingers diving between her legs to apply pressure to her pearl, and she inadvertently tightens around him at the combined pleasure.

 He is not sure if he can last much longer. Forgiveness be damned, he wants to see his spend leak from her.

 “My love, I-”

 She looks down at him, a lazy, fucked-out smile on her face, her hair sticking slightly to her forehead.

 “-Yes, husband…fuck your heir into me…”

 His eye widens at the vulgarity, but his throat tightens at the challenge and he slams so deep inside her with a shocking collection of desperate thrusts. She continues to circle her slick over her bud until the buzz floods into her limbs with a choked cry, her body trembling in the bruising hold he has of her hips.

 He fucks her all the way through it, now that he has been given the permission he so desired, he craves it like hunger. It feels like it takes everything out of him, the wind surely knocked from his lungs, as he finally stills inside her, feeling the warm, familiar flood of his spend deep against her womb, completely emptying himself until he aches.

 Aemond never lets up on his grip, holding her tightly to ensure she has all of it, and he gives a few additional shallow thrusts that make her cry out, hoping his seed will take and she will grow round with child for him. The thought alone makes him want to keep her in their chambers all day if he has to.

 Their eyes meet, the only sound is both of their breathing. Her own eyes flicker from his seeing one, to the sapphire, and a soft, contented smile, not the same mischievous one as earlier, makes its way to her face. It encourages him to do the same.

 “I could stay in your perfect cunt forever…” he breathes, his chest moving steadily.

 She hums a laugh. It is certainly something he would say.

 “Am I forgiven?” he asks, eyebrows moved only slightly, like he is expecting a witty response.

 His wife pretends to think, her fingers touched to her lips. And with his softening cock still nestled inside her, she leans forward to lay a tender kiss on her husband, her delicate, soft lips pressed so gently to his, in a manner that contradicts the sensuality of what they had just done.

 When she breaks, her forehead pressed against his and her hand cupping his face, she wrinkles her nose playfully.

 “I shall think about it”

 When one thinks of Aemond Targaryen, a few descriptors come to mind.

 Stoic, stiff, perhaps brazen on occasion. With not a soft bone in his body.

 Who would have thought, that sometimes, he enjoyed letting that persona slip, just for a moment.

 But only ever with her.

dividers by @firefly-graphics​

General Taglist:  @risefallrise @valeskafics @theoneeyedprince @thelittleswanao3 @hb8301

Aemond Taglist:  @m00n5t0n3 @boofy1998 @merakiaes​ @hanihoney88 @let-love-bleeds-red​ @bellaisasleep​ @watercolorskyy @heavenley1927 @ryswritingrecord @partypoison00 @gaeela-6 @saeselkie @padfooteyes @introverbatim @queenofshinigamis @thatkingofgirl @ryswritingrecord @dahlias-and-marigolds @triscy

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 4

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 

You face him, “hot tub?” 

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 

‘Is Bucky still there?’  

You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 

“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 

“Please...” you gasp. 

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?” 

[obsessive-evie]

keep them on, please

pairing: Caitlin Clark + fem!oc

word count: 6.5k

warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of rough sex, inappropriate use of jewelry??

Sets of perfectly mismatching rings always covered my fingers. A wrap-around Lilly spoon ring for my pointer finger was a specific favorite of mine. And Caitlin’s.

My girlfriend’s slightly anxious personality meant her eyes gravitated towards safety. Which was often found in the familiar, or my rings. The same rings every day on the same fingers, fiddled with in the same patterns, flipped across fingertips absentmindedly by myself.

So any chance my girlfriend could get, her hand would find mine, and I loved it. And every time without fail, her lengthy fingers would always find a way to maneuver said silver rings off of my own smaller ones, and into hers. She would fiddle with them, slide them along my knuckles, and look at them so closely you’d think she was trying to memorize every carving and scratch.

I’ve never really asked her about it until I noticed she looks at them during… certain times.

We had just arrived home after a night out with friends, after a few drinks in and her hands had gone a little too far up my thigh for the busy upscale bar, I’d told her we should head home.

The whole ride home was spent with my slightly more than tipsy girlfriend glued to my hands. The hands that once roamed over my thighs and hips in the dimly lit bar were now brushing over my knuckles and flipping my rings as she leaned on my shoulder.

Arriving back at her place for the night, we had ended up half clothed- my dress bunched up around my hips with straps falling off my shoulders as she hovered above me, her black silk shirt all the way unbuttoned to reveal a simple lace bralette.

Of course her hands held mine as she kissed my neck, leaving it up to me to undress us one handed. The silk shirt that I picked out for her highlighted her pale skin in the low light of her bedroom, the shadows from it accentuating her collarbones and abs as she left small bites on my neck.

Caitlin’s large hand came to pin down my own, her knuckles squeezing harder around my rings, which reminded me I needed to take them off before this went any further.

Pushing back on her shoulder with my one free hand, I break our kiss, “Wait babe sit up for a sec,” I say. She leans back to sit more on my thighs than on my hips, allowing me to sit up and begin to take off my rings.

A warm hand stops me, wordlessly, she pushes my shoulders back down and returns to my neck. I let her, thinking she just wants to makeout right now and not go any further.

But once she’d pulled me out of my dress and untucked her shirt from her jeans (the action totally didn’t kill me a little), unbuttoning them along the way, I realized this was most definitely not a makeout.

Pushing on my inebriated girlfriend’s shoulder once again, except this time hooking my leg around her own, effectively flipping out positions and seating myself atop Caitlin’s hips.

Attempt number 2 of taking off my rings: also unsuccessful.

I took a moment to appreciate my girlfriend with my hands on her abs, “You’re so pretty baby.” She still doesn’t say anything, a tendency of sleepy/tipsy/horny Cait. I brought my hands together once more to pull off my rings, but before I could even get one off, her hands stop me again.

Gentle and warm fingers press into my wrists, her thumbs barely cutting into my pulse point. Before I realize what’s happening, shes sat up onto her elbows and is kissing the soft inside of my wrist, followed by my palm, then the back of my hand, then lastly my knuckles, her lips barely brushing the cool metal adorning them. “Keep them on,” she finally voices in a quiet, almost timid voice. Caitlin going reserved in the bedroom wasn’t entirely unusual. She was an anxious person half the time and a confident powerhouse the other half, I never knew what I was going to get when we were undressed.

But this edge to her voice, the slight waver in her tone, the way her eyes relaxed slightly, like she was melting into my gaze. This was different. New. This wasn’t our usual game of cat and mouse, she was showing a different form of vulnerable I rarely got to see.

Her lips slide down my fingers, past my rings, until my nails are barely resting on the flesh of her bottom lip. Her soft grip on my wrist doesn’t change as she slowly opens her mouth wider and to take my center two fingers into the warm wetness. Her tongue juts out just slightly, sliding my digits deeper and deeper, making me gasp at her unwavering eye contact and bold actions.

Her lips close around my knuckles as she closes her eyes, my rings sitting just behind her lips. I can’t quite breathe, or think.

That’s when I feel her tongue begin to slide up and down the crevice created by my two fingers together, sucking just slightly. She tilts her head back faintly, allowing herself to slide the tip of her tongue under the rim of a thick stamped ring on my middle finger. The small but strong muscle moves said ring back towards her mouth as she slowly slides my hand away from her.

Her eyes open slowly once my nails are resting once again by her now closed lips, covered in spit this time. Now missing a ring, my pulse quickens at what I just witnessed. My tall and usually tough girlfriend completely surrendering to me, and taking my fingers in her mouth oh so gently, sucking on them and covering them with her warm spit.

Her soft eyes bore into mine as she opens her mouth to reveal my ring sitting so perfectly on her tongue. She sticks it out slightly, an offering, I realize. Like a pearl in an oyster, my shiny spit covered ring stands out against the deep pink of her mouth and tongue.

I reach my middle finger back over her tongue, placing the tip of it in the center of the ring, and slide it back onto my knuckles with my ring and index finger. The motion I’ve done a thousand times now has a different meaning to it once I look back at the loving eyes of my girlfriend.

She almost looks too pretty, too soft laying there like this, tongue stuck out and spit beginning to pool on the muscle. It slowly slides back into her mouth before she closes her shiny lips again and swallows. Caitlin’s takes a deeper breath, like she was in a slight trance (I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t either), and restates, “keep them on,” there’s a pause, “please.” She says the last part in an almost pleading, ever so slightly shaky voice. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But the unmistakable lilt of sheer wanton desire slides under her words like a silent stream.

I nod, feeling air enter my lungs in a deep inhale, allowing myself to breathe after such a tense moment. My fingers retreat from her lips, and I notice the sheen on her chin and surrounding areas. I swipe my thumb slowly across it, and her mouth opens slightly, almost instinctively. Before I back out, I dip the edge of my thumb into her mouth, opening her jaw wider by pressing on the lower row of her teeth. The slight bite of them pressing into the pad of my thumb makes me want her more as the dainty silver band sitting at the base of it is now flooded with spit.

I withdraw from her mouth once more after she swipes her tongue gently across my thumb. Keeping my hand resting on her jaw and cheek, I lean down to kiss my girlfriend deeply.

I breathe in her pulse, her soft hair underneath my under forearm as it holds myself up above her head, the taste of her lips on mine, and the unmistakable tang of metal on her tongue. I moan into mouth when she pushes her hip up into my center, her hands still resting frozen by her side like she’s waiting for permission to grab at my hips.

My right hand wanders down from her jaw to her neck and collarbones, framing where they meet in a perfect U-shape. My movement seems to spur her on, and I finally feel the familiar warmth of her hands on my hips, cradling the lace covered flesh with such gentle firmness I can’t help but kiss her harder.

My hand resting on her neck slides around to the muscle of her shoulder, sitting up and pulling her with me.

“Off.” Is all I say, sliding the silk fabric that was already hanging off her shoulders down the silent strength of her arms, as it was more just hanging off her slender form after being untucked earlier. Next I undo her belt, sliding it out of its loops without breaking eye contact. She understands to lift her hips after I unbutton her pants and open her zipper, revealing a matching. Set.

The same pattern of black lace and ribbed cotton adorns her hips and pussy, melting me from the inside out. My eyes meet hers before I slide her pants the rest of the way down her long legs, sitting myself back on her smooth skin of her thighs. She looks away, clearly nervous and awaiting my reaction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” is all I can breathe out before I lean back up to capture her lips, my hands (and my rings) digging into her prominent hip bones to hold myself up.

The two of us were now only wearing our bras and underwear, each just sultry enough to elicit a reaction, but comfortable enough to wear on a night out. Caitlin’s was simply more jarring to me.

Don’t get me wrong, my incredibly sexy girlfriend liked to be girly and feminine, but usually opted for her more practical sports bras and simple underwear. So seeing her strong body covered in something so delicate and pretty was a pleasant surprise, even if her bra was visible all night.

Her warm hands pull my hips down onto her protruding ones, making me gasp into our kiss in surprise. Letting the sparks it creates burn through me, I push my hips down to hers this time, moaning into her mouth at the pleasant buzz. As I begin to move back from her hips, she pushes hers up, continuing my pleasure.

I shift my weight to my right knee holding myself up outside her thigh so I can reposition myself seated on just one of her strong thighs, allowing my kneecap to meet her black lace.

A bitten lip and a short exhale is my gift in return.

I move my knee once more, sinking back down onto the tense area where her hip bone meets her thigh. We fall into this rhythm, pushing my knee into her clothed center, grinding down and towards her on her thigh, while she pushes her leg up and flexes.

The result of this repetition is the sight of my girlfriend beneath me, wearing a matching set (which alone would kill me anyways), with her eyes squeezed shut, hips twitching and grinding against my own. Her mouth parts slightly with a gasp, her abs begin to flex even harder as her shakey grip tightens on my thighs.

I pull her hips down onto my knee and slow my grinding, allowing her to squeeze her thighs together. Running my decorated hand up her abs and chest, stopping once I get to her collarbones, I lean my head down to whisper in her ear, “you look so filthy fucking yourself onto my thigh.”

Her whole body shudders, her breathing stalls and comes out in rushed puffs of hot air, I see her mouth open wider as she tilts her head back.

Oh shit

Fast paced pants and whines fill the dimly lit bedroom, and she’s finishing on my leg before I can process how fast she got here, especially just through her underwear.

I don’t slow my movements, not for a second. Not even when her grip on my thighs turns almost painfully hard. Not even when I’m worried she’s not breathing at all.

A large and harsh exhale leaves her spit slick mouth, and her shudders seem to slow. I wait for her to slow her hips herself, leaving my knee pressed into her for Caitlin to decide when she’s done. Her hips come to a full stop, her tense abs and neck relax, and her death-grip on my thighs eases.

Her eyes are still closed when I slowly ease my knee away from her core, kissing her cheek softly as a distraction. Consciousness seems to flood her face after air fills her lungs once more for a complete breath at my actions.

I smile softly, kissing her cheek again, followed by her nose. She opens her mouth to speak, meeting my eyes. Nothing comes out, her eyes vulnerable and almost embarrassed. I move a piece of hair out of her eyes, admiring how the dark strands pool above her like a halo in this light.

“Are you okay?” I whisper softly, almost into her mouth. Her face flushes even more crimson, averting her eyes and tilting her head away from me. Her clear embarrassment at how fast she finished on my thigh surfacing at my question.

Oh so gently, I cradle her jaw, turning her back to face me. I kiss her firmly on the lips this time, not allowing her to turn again when I pull away. “I’ll ask again,” I whisper into her mouth, keeping her eyes on mine, “are you alright baby?” A slow but firm nod is what follows.

I feel her take a deep breath with her whole chest before responding, “I just didn’t expect that is all.” I feel a small smile grace my face at her embarrassment, her warm deep brown eyes nervously dancing between my own. My own teeth dig into my lip, deciding to be slightly cruel, I push my knee back up into her, making her gasp and squirm before I say, “I liked it.”

I can see her holding back a moan, slightly from overstimulation and slightly from my words and attention. I push again, making her flinch slightly, “Not yet, I can’t,” she gasps out, holding my hips firmly away from her, our slight strength and size imbalance making it easy for her to do so. My thumb soothes the creases between her brows, admiring her features in the moonlight.

She kisses me this time, myself too distracted with the beautiful girl beneath me to notice her own stares at my lips. We kiss until I can’t hold myself up anymore, my arms giving out forcing me to lay fully on my girlfriend. Our chests pressed together, hearts beating in synch, trying to melt every golden molecule of her body into mine, we stay like that for not long enough.

My hand on her jaw and cheek rings dancing along her warm skin, my other still playing with her hair, Caitlin moves her own hands up my back and waist, pulling me closer.

Before I can slink back down her body to give her another deserved orgasm, I’m flipped onto my back by the lithe muscles holding me. What once was my embarrassed and shy girlfriend post orgasm is now a smirking and hungry looking brunette above me. She begins kissing my neck softly, making me melt into the pillow. I almost don’t notice when her smooth hand slides under my slightly arched back, unclasping my bra in one quick movement.

Before I can protest and remove hers too, she sucks where my neck meets my shoulder, hard. “Hey! That kind of hurt…” I say in a tone slightly whinier than I would’ve liked. She laughs a breathy laugh before pealing the black lace off my chest and shoulders, tossing it to the side somewhere in her room. Her large hands cradle my upper rib cage, thumbs dipping into my sternum just under my boobs while her middle finger reaches all the way over the side of my torso.

She continues her slightly rough kissing on my neck, trailing down to my newly exposed tits. She knew how sensitive they were at times, and decided to get payback for earlier I guess. Attacking the soft flesh with a flurry of her tongue and occasional strikes of teeth, she began leaving tiny marks all down my chest and rib cage.

Deciding I’ve had enough of this teasing, and the fact that she still has her bra on, I pull her shoulder blades forward into me, causing her to lean down on top of me with her head pressing into my sternum. She looks up, meeting my eyes slightly, so I cradle her jaw yet again and make her fully look at me. “Kiss me,” I say, milking the slightly pouty nature hoping she’ll abandon her post at my tits in favor of my mouth.

She does, my girlfriend never being able to say no to me when I give her any ounce of control. Oh well bye bye control for her.

The second she gets close enough to my face, my decorated hand finds her neck, squeezing slightly in a consistent but firm grip. Never hard enough to hurt her or cut off her air yet, but hard enough to make her freeze. Now knowing how she feels about my rings, I make sure to push the base of my fingers just as hard as my fingertips.

Her eyes change again, back to a similar vulnerable air from before. Pushing harder with the base of my hand and wrist, I moved her away from my face and sit up as she moves. All I simply do next is push on her shoulders and she’s falling back into the pillows once more. There must’ve still been enough alcohol in my girlfriend’s system for her to be so pliant with me, her usual cocky demeanor shining through occasionally, even when she’s a total bottom for me.

Seating myself once more on her hips, borderline lower stomach. I keep her eyes on mine as I slowly remove one ring, a smooth moonstone juts out from its silver casing, so I place it on the nearby bedside table. Quite frankly that would not be comfortable in any situation. I make it very apparent I’m keeping the rest on by placing my hands on her chest firmly, and dragging the cool metal up and around her back.

She gets what I’m trying to do and arches just enough for me to unhook her perfectly pretty bralette. Repeating the actions she did for me silently, I take my time reveling in every inch of newly exposed skin, knowing she’ll start getting nervous soon under my gaze.

Running the now seven silver rings up and down her stomach and sternum, around her chest and collarbones, while purposefully avoiding too close to her tits, Caitlin begins to squirm. I glance up at her face, noticing she wasn’t making any kind of noise yet. She had her bottom lip trapped between the sharp teeth I know all too well, face turned to the side, eyes glancing anywhere but me while her eyelids fluttered every time I got closer to her nipples.

I lean down to kiss her cheek, which brings a small smile to the clearly high strung girl beneath me. Following that kiss with a quick one where her jaw meets just below her ear, then the side of the her neck, the hollow of her throat, the inner tip of her collarbone, lastly a feather light peck on her sternum. I pause, just hovering above her tits, I can almost feel her heartbeat pick up as my breath tickles her skin.

Glancing up her face once more, I take it her almost anguish gracing her features before relenting, and kissing my way across her chest. A gentle suck on one of her perked nipples and I finally get a noise out of her. A breathy, barely there whine albeit, but a noise nonetheless. Caitlin was typically pretty quiet during sex, usually holding back her noises out of embarrassment, or simply opting for heavy breathing and swearing, the occasional whine telling me I’m doing something right.

Rubbing up and down her sides, I move to alternate sucking on one nipple, and gently rubbing and pinching the other, eliciting a few more heavy breaths, and finally, “fuck, babe.”

I smile, taking that as my cue to start kissing her abs. I won’t lie, I definitely spent far too long with my lips attached to her abs. Little bites, gentle hickeys, kisses, anything I can to mark up her toned stomach, I will 100% always do. I can’t help it her muscles are incredibly hot and only available when she’s beneath me.

Her breaths come out faster and harder the lower I go, treating every ridge and hard line with a stark mix of gentle tongue and sharp teeth. My hands still keeping busy on her chest and sides, my large etched ring on my middle finger brushes her right nipple, catching on it as my hand travels. This simple action results in a buck of her strong hips, and her hand coming to hold the back of my head (like my head had anything to do with that action?), accompanied with a gasp that melts into a soft moan.

Her noises are more consistent now, but I can tell she’s still holding back. Never one to ask or beg for me to do anything, I travel to her hips, biting on my way down to her thighs to ease up on my relentless teasing. She finally looks down at me once I’ve seated my lips at the junction of her hip and thigh, sucking intently on the soft flesh there.

I grip her twitching hips slightly harder than necessary, making sure she feels the cool press of the metal adorning them into her soft skin. I keep her eyes on mine, making sure Cait sees my next move.

Kissing just above the lace on her hip, I pause. Grabbing the thin fabric between my front teeth, and her mouth parts even more. I pull the lacy black underwear concealing my girlfriend down to her thighs, then fully off her with my hands once I reach her knees.

Running my hands back up her outer thighs as I kiss the soft skin on the inside of them, she parts the strong muscles for me. This new position of staring directly at her cum covered pussy sends a new kind of determination through me.

I hesitate, glancing back up at her face for approval before moving straight into kissing and gently licking her dripping cunt. Her shaking hand immediately comes to gently hold the back of my head, her long veiny fingers threading themselves into my hair. I eat her out almost teasingly for a few minutes, holding back from sucking too hard or for too long. She seems to notice the teasing nature of my tongue.

“Babe,” is all she says softly, immediately glancing away and looking back at me with nerves. I don’t pause my tongue, I simply look up and meet her pleading brown eyes. Moving one hand from its tight grip on her hips, I run my fingers over the divots and lines of her abs and ribs, making sure she feels it. The newfound freedom of her hip means she immediately pushes down onto my face slightly.

I pull away entirely, earning me an annoyed glare and the sight of my usually tough top girlfriend throwing her head back onto the pillow in frustration.

“Eyes on me baby,” is all I say in a tone far lower than I expected. The warm brown of her eyes changes from sassy annoyance to one of shock and desire when I, without breaking eye contact, lean down slightly and spit directly onto her already wet pussy.

Diving down to clean up my mess, I eat her out with the fervor and pressure she clearly has been wanting. I’m met with a shocked moan and strong arching hips almost fighting against me to push further into my mouth. I lick up and down her folds, concentrating my lips on her clit.

I manage to keep my girlfriends hips down just long enough for her breath to pick up again, her thighs to start to squeeze around my head, and her hand to push me almost painfully close into her cunt, my nose barely peaking out over her warm mound.

Just as she sucks in a gasp of air, telling me she’s close, I pull away. “No, fuck you oh my god no,” she says, pleading. Her hand that was resting by her side comes up to cover her face, pushing loose hair out her eyes and brow. I smile at her frustration, it meaning she felt good. But I can make her feel better.

I kiss the thigh directly to my right softly, a small sign of remorse for my angry girlfriend. “Babe I swear to god if you don’t-“ I cut off her whining by sucking on her clit, hard. Her protest turns into a moan, half silenced by her hand now over her mouth. Gently flicking and pinching her nipples along with my mouth practically devouring her pussy, it’s not a surprise when my girlfriends heavy breathing picks up again, her thighs fight against my tight hold, and her back begins to arch just slightly. I hear a flurry of small curse words mumbled under her breath get more and more frequent. I press on her toned lower stomach gently, knowing the pressure inside her surely clenching cunt might’ve been enough to push her over the edge into pure pleasure. If I didn’t stop my movements and pull away. Again.

She punches the bed next to her, getting more than frustrated now. “Please oh my god I was so fucking close,” she says through spit slick and bitten lips, her eyes almost glassy. Cait rarely bottomed, let alone pleaded with me.

I kiss up her abs again, knowing her frustration at me is only because of her denied pleasure. Clearly she’s sobered up enough now to be vocal about what she wants, because by the time I get to her tits she’s talking again.

“Babe I am so serious what the fuck was that for I’ve been good I didn’t even move that much I just wanted you to-“ by the time I’ve reached her neck, I slide my middle two fingers into her rapidly moving mouth, effectively shutting her up. Despite her anger, Caitlin eagerly sucks on my fingers again, her warm mouth enveloping the metal and my nails. I sit myself atop her abs, maintaining eye contact as I push my fingers deeper that she can comfortably take, sliding them back out halfway before she gags.

I continue this motion until the fire in her eyes has dimmed slightly, showing me she won’t fight me when I slide a third finger into her mouth. My pointer finger however, doesn’t just have her beloved wrap around spoon ring, but a simple twisted band sits past my first knuckle, halfway down my finger. She clearly feels it on her tongue, because her eyes flutter slightly when it brushes far back in her mouth.

Submitting before me, I let myself rest and put my whole body weight on her torso, knowing the strong girl beneath me won’t be hurt by my smaller frame. (I’m totally not transported back to when she made me grind on her abs without any help as punishment for leaving a hickey so far down on her thigh it peaked out her basketball shorts. Thankfully it could’ve been mistaken as a small bruise but she was annoyed nonetheless.)

I decide she’s coated my fingers well enough, pulling out until only the very tips rest inside her mouth again. The pretty brunette takes in large gulps of air, spit dripping out of her mouth with every pant. Without moving myself, I reach the saliva covered hand behind me, and in once swift motion plunge two dripping nimble fingers inside my girlfriend.

Her reaction is instant, finally receiving what she’s been begging for, and so intently focused on. “Oh shit,” she says, I’m assuming mainly at the fact that the rings she’s been obsessing over and asked me to keep on were now inside of her, assisting me inside her tight walls. The pace of my middle two fingers pick up, causing her to arch slightly despite my weight on her torso.

“See? Was it so hard to be patient?” I say slightly teasing, grinding my hips forward to stop her from giving me a sassy remark. Caitlins large hands encase my hips, guiding me slightly forward and backward while I continue my relentless pace inside her. The pressure of her flexing abs beneath me combined with her poorly held back moans and breathy sighs when I curl my fingers up into her g spot were enough to send shocks of pleasure up into me, even through my underwear.

My hand begins to hurt uncomfortably from the awkward angle and speed, but I wouldn’t dare slow my grinding or my movements inside her. I plant my hand on her chest, using it as leverage to push myself onto her lower stomach. My hips now act as external pressure, eliciting a whine from my girlfriend. She turns her head to the side, panting with her eyes shut.

A constant buzz of pleasure fills me, so I decide to add a third finger to further Caitlin along.

“Thank you,”Is what I receive in return, the cool metal of my spoon ring and knuckle ring now deep inside her. My third finger was clearly what she needed to amp up her pleasure.

“How long?” I ask.

“What?” She says, clearly confused and fuzzy from the stimulation. “How long have you wanted this,” I slow my movements, hoping to get an answer.

She meets my eyes for just a moment, but lays her head back again and closes them, licking her lips in avoidance. I press my fingers into her as deep as they can reach, hard. She gasps.

“It doesn’t-“ another thrust, “it doesn’t matter okay.”

I stop my movements all together.

“Answer my question and you can finish, prettygirl,” I drawl, hoping the pet name I knew as her weakness would help my case.

“I said-“ she starts sassily, I begin to pull my fingers out at her denial.

“Wait wait fuck, no okay,” she rushes out, meeting my eyes desperately and trying to reach past my hip to grab my wrist unsuccessfully. I raise my eyebrows, keeping my fingers half out of her, feeling her pulse around the tips.

She takes a few steadying breaths, and opens her mouth to talk while still turning her head away from me. A simple glide of my hand off her chest and onto her chin allows me to turn her to look at me. “I won’t ask again, how long have you wanted my rings to stay on.”

“A while…” she appears to be thinking hard despite her clear embarrassment, “probably since that day in the car.” She says.

I wrack my brain as to what she’s referring to, and recall a late night drive turned quick fuck in the backseat after I said I couldn’t sleep.

She had ridden my fingers in my lap with her hand around my neck, not choking me but it was the thought that I knew she could that did it. She had sat herself atop my thighs, only taking the time to take off my middle two rings before sinking herself down onto my fingers, her own already working me up for my second orgasm. It was a rushed affair full of bitten lips, necks left bruised and seats left stained. Cait had confessed to me while driving that she thought about what it would be like to be rougher with me, leaving more marks and even choking.

This night however, was over three weeks ago, and we had fucked many times after that (many incorporating her rougher thoughts).

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted them inside you,” I whisper, leaning down slightly to take the weight off my hips, but also to force her to keep looking at me.

“Didn’t know if it’d be okay and…” she trails off. I give her a moment before she gathers any courage she has left and finishes, “it meant having to ask you to keep them on, and bottoming at the same time and that’s just- I can’t just-“ she sighs, clearly embarrassed and frustrated.

“From now on I want you to tell me if there’s something like this on your mind, okay? And besides,” I lean down close to her ear, making her breath hitch, “you’re so fuckin pretty when you’re flustered.” I make my point by plunging my fingers back into her, and she gasps before I kiss her neck, sitting back up.

I return to my relentless pace, hoping to actually make her finish after all this teasing and edging.

With all three decorated fingers now seated deep inside her wet, pulsing cunt, I bring my thumb up to circle her clit. The closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a true moan from my girlfriend graces my ears, spurring me to start grinding again.

Minutes into this process, she bucks her hips hard enough to make me gasp. Her thighs start to shake a steady rhythm. Each time I would push back in, her hips would grind down into my hand, and her strong thighs would twitch when I began to pull back out. Her gasps and breathing turned to swears and whines, telling me she was close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck, I’m- babe don’t stop, please I swear don’t stop I’ll be good don’t stop,” she repeats a mantra of cuss words and pleas the closer she gets to finishing. Her promise of being good is new, but we’ll come back to that. Her slick is already pouring out of her and onto my stiffening hand.

I wouldn’t dream of denying her again. Besides, she’s strong, and scary when she’s mad.

Her legs bend inwards, head thrown back, mouth gasping and attempting to form words, and she finishing on my hand with a loud whine as her nails dig into my hips. I feel her cunt squeeze around all three fingers, her cum making each of them slide in and out as I keep my steady pace, bringing her through her second -but well deserved- orgasm. Her twitching and clear pleasure sends me over the edge with her, my own body tensing and arching on top of hers.

The thought of what we look like from the outside keeps the shockwaves of pleasure coming.

Finally, I slow my grinding and fingers to a stop, catching my breath a moment before I fall over. My girl looks fucked out beneath me, and I see a single tear track run down the side of her face.

I slowly pull my fingers out of her, which causes Caitlin to open her eyes like it was the hardest thing ever. I make sure she’s looking when I suck her juices off my fingers, going back in with my tongue to get her cum from around my rings.

I finally find the energy to roll off her, keeping my arm strewn across her rib cage as we both catch our breaths. “You did so good baby,” I say, kissing her cheek and moving closer to her warm body that was glistening with sweat. A soft “mhm,” is all I get in return, exhaustion clearly plaguing my girlfriend.

“You gotta go pee sweet girl,” I say softly, moving hair out of her face and eyes. “Of course after fucking me within an inch of my life the first thing you’re thinking about is a UTI,” Caitlin laughs with her voice taking on a rougher note, telling me she was louder than I thought.

“I’ll take it you liked it then?” I tease. “Yeah you asshole, I did,” she says in response, referencing my edging and mean tactics. I smile, kissing her cheek, followed by her temple and forehead. My hands tenderly rub over her stomach and hips as I try to soothe any other aches.

Finally she pulls away from my grasp, heading towards her adjoining bathroom.

While Caits gone, I take off my rings finally, making a mental note to wash them really well later, and slip under the covers, removing my soaked underwear in the process. Her warm body slides into the bed next to mine, her long arms enveloping me in a blanket of comfort, despite our earlier actions.

She speaks first, “I do trust you, you know that.” I wait for her to continue, “It’s just hard for me to say what I want to say, you make me nervous you know.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but this fragile confession wasn’t it. I turn in her arms to face her. My hands find her face immediately, her vulnerable eyes finding mine in return. I stare into her beautiful features for a moment, just savoring this bubble of time. “I’ll always be patient with you when it matters,” is all I softly say, hoping she gets my message.

“Besides, you’re always in charge, what’s wrong with me making you nervous for once.” I joke. This makes Caitlin laugh, her hands ghosting over my back. She kisses me softly, melting my body and soul into hers. She’s the first to pull away after a few heartbeats, “I love you,” she whispers into my lips.

I kiss her again before replying, “I love you too, even if you think I’m scary.”

“Woah now I said you make me nervous, ain’t no one afraid of your 5’6” ass.” She says through small laughter. I pretend to act offended, even turning my head towards the ceiling to avoid her.

Her gentle hand cups my jaw, turning my face back towards her before saying, “I love your ass though if that counts for anything.” Her comment earns her a slap on the bicep and a disapproving head shake, even if I’m smiling ear to ear throughout my scolding.

She pulls me closer before I can say anything else. So close it feels like she’s trying to weld our hearts together, my head tucked into her neck and hers resting on my shoulder.

Eventually I hear her breathing even out, and I too join her in dreamland to the thought of how lucky I am to have a girl like Caitlin, even if I’m scary.

[throneofsapphics]

have your little girlfriend, part seven

poly!Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Catching Aelin's eye, you quickly end up entangled between her and Rowan, forced to navigate their darker sides in your new relationship.

Warnings: included on series masterlist to avoid spoilers!

Word Count: ~4.4k

A/N: we've reached the penultimate chapter!! thank you to both @whisperingmidnights and @moonlightttfae for your support <3 (and all of you who kept motivating me and reminding me about this little story)

series masterlist

Settling next to her on the bed, Aelin ran a hand down her thigh, “Rowan and I are thinking about trying for a child.” 

The happiness she felt in that moment wasn’t faked. It was true, bright, and genuine. 

“That’s wonderful,” she breathed, reaching out and clutching Aelin’s hand gently. “Are you?” She glanced down towards her stomach

Aelin’s bright laugh tinkled through the room. “Thinking about trying, petal. You should listen more,” she chided ‘jokingly,’ but she caught the small down curve at the last syllable. 

Her mouth curled up at the corners anyway. This was something that had been hovering in the back of everyone’s minds for so long it only felt right. Now, her mind drifted to how she’d celebrate with Aelin. She glanced at the small bottle of oil on the side table. A massage would help her mate relax. Running her hands over her shoulders, she realized just how tense she was, and noticed the light bags underneath her eyes. 

Aelin read the question in her eyes. 

“There’s been a lot to … catch up on,” she said delicately. 

‘Because of you, your settling, your burden,’ her mind whirled, the voice not her own. 

“No,” Aelin said firmly, aloud. “What you’re thinking - it’s not true.” 

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” she countered automatically. Aelin frowned and she winced, sending a silent apology. It seemed to appease her mate, especially as she reached for the oil, motioning for Aelin to turn around, eagerly complying. First, she undid the ties on the back of her tunic, letting her skin expose inch by inch, fingers running delicately over the relatively smooth skin, tracing the lines and swirls of her tattoos. 

Aelin laid down, head turned sideways to rest her cheek on the pillow. Straddling her waist, she let the oil drip directly on her back. 

Not having any training or particularly good technique, she just went for whatever drew the best reactions out of her mate. Thumbs dug into sore spots, nails scratched down lightly, gentle kisses left on shoulders, teeth nipping, dodging when Aelin’s fingers shot out to pinch in playful reprimand. 

The breaths grew longer, more ragged, less controlled. Bodies shifted to release tension, thighs rubbed together subconsciously, hands jolted, movements less smooth and controlled. 

The game reached its expiration point as Aelin flipped over, throwing her underneath and straddling her hips to pin her in place. 

Leaning down, brushing lips against her ear, “my turn,” she breathed. 

Strands of fire wrapped around her wrist, not burning but pinning them above her head. She lifted her chest, arching her back, giving her mate her favorite view. 

Aelin’s thumbs brushed over her breasts in appreciation. The touches grew firmer, a mark of exactly who was in charge. 

“So beautiful, petal,” she murmured. “I’m so lucky.” 

“We’re so lucky,” an amused voice interrupted from the back. Aelin waved him off - a half hearted dismissal, countered with a laugh and slow but purposeful steps across the room.  

Her mates locked eyes, a silent conversation she wasn’t privy to passing through. Her legs shifted, subconsciously reaching for their attention. The smiles appearing on their faces set her on edge. 

Before she could think further, or ask more questions, Aelin had turned, slid up the bed, and hovered above her. She faced away, toward Rowan, who was currently lining up between her thighs. 

“Snap if you need to stop,” he said roughly. She didn’t get to see him enter her as Aelin lowered herself over her face. She didn’t care. 

-

Later that night, curled up next to them in bed, she realized she’d probably never fall pregnant. Biologically, it didn’t matter to her who birthed the child, she’d help raise and love them all the same. But was pregnancy something she wanted? It would interfere with the royal succession and all of that. Things her mates had probably thought of and discarded for a later time. Well, now was the later time. Right now … she was a royal concubine, wasn’t she?

Still, they already had little time to spare, and a child would … she shook her head. How gods-damned selfish could she be? The time she took up in their lives would be better spent on a child. A child would be more worthy of the time than her. All she’d done is drag her mates down since they met, causing problems and bringing chaos in her wake. She was, at the very least, a basket case. 

She should be happy for her mates, for how long they’d wanted this baby - held back by her. She was the one holding them back from their dreams and everything they wanted.

It was bullshit, she knew. The child would be more than happy with three parents. She wasn’t happy, and the time was coming where she picked for herself for once, but she had to be careful about it. 

Right now, she didn’t know what she wanted. Of course, these concerns couldn’t be raised because at the first hint of suspicion she might leave them she’d be placed firmly on lockdown - not given the slightest chance. Their love always came hand in hand with obsession, and with that a heavy weight she couldn’t quite kick. Several days, all she wanted was for the heaviness to leave her chest. 

Besides, they were Fae and it could take years for any of them to fall pregnant. When that time came, she knew what she’d have to do, and knew it would hurt like hell in so many ways. 

“What’s on your mind?” Rowan murmured from her right. To her left, Aelin was sound asleep. She hadn’t realized he was awake. 

“Life,” she whispered. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. Aelin had spread out to take over most of the bed, and seemed perfectly content wrapped in all of the pillows and blankets but she knew her mate would reach for her soon. Until then, she let herself melt into Rowan, his warmth and the steady circles he traced on her back. 

This, this feeling, warmth, and content. She wanted desperately to be selfless and stay, but eventually she’d need to be selfish and go. The clock was ticking down. 

-

A year later, she knew something was different. Firstly, she could barely stand to have others near Aelin. At first she thought it was because they hadn’t gotten to spend much time together, but then her mate’s scent changed. 

Rowan’s behavior confirmed her suspicion. She thanked the gods that their instincts didn't apply to each other. 

Pregnancy suited Aelin, it seemed like a gold dust or shimmer always coated her, bathing her in some sort of ethereal light. 

It took one week for her to remember the original plan. 

With her mates distracted with preparations for the babe, it was all too easy for her to get things together to leave. 

There was one thing standing in her way. Her bargain with Fenrys. Her own conscience died as soon as she began considering this. She wasn’t able to go to the Staghorns with him accompanying her, and he couldn’t run with her. Would he try to stop her if she he knew she was preparing to leave? She considered him a brother, but undeniably his loyalty went to Aelin first and not just because of the blood oath. It hurt that she couldn’t truly trust him, and she knew it was unfair but in her mind it was Aelin and Rowan stealing another thing from her. Besides, he’d pulled away from her recently. Like the rest of them, he was preoccupied with Aelin’s pregnancy. 

A blessing, but a blessing so precious it put everyone on edge. 

The only other option was to go somewhere else. She decided to post a few letters. 

Rushing over to the table, grabbing a quill and ink while they were still busy, the sound of pen scratching paper filled their rooms. 

What were those vacation spots we used to go to? I’ve been reminiscing about our childhood. 

Only brief phrases flooded into her mind as she wrote, the rest flowing straight from her mind to paper, the only filter the code she created with her cousins years ago as children. Hopefully the gods were looking out for her, and her cousins remembered. With a little luck, whoever undoubtedly read the letter wouldn’t find anything suspicious or worth reporting back to home for. Even if they did, she’d gained their trust well enough and they were so preoccupied she doubted they would pay much attention to it. After all, they hadn’t paid much attention to her. 

She glanced at the clock. Two hours til they were finished with the meeting. Leaving the castle alone wouldn’t raise suspicion anymore, now with her settling a year in the past. Black cloak pulled over her head, silver clasp fastened at the collarbone, rain pouring outside, she slipped through a servants passage, and out the front gate. Sometimes the best place to hide was in plain sight.

Sticking to main streets, smiling at the few who dared venture outside during inclement weather, she headed right for the post stand. Not unusual of her before her settling - the citizens of Orynth had long memories after all, even the mortals. Her primary form of communication couldn’t be in person after all, and she had piles and piles of letters from her cousins. Still, the code was necessary because she couldn’t risk anyone reading her mail. Everyone was nosy. Finding someone she trusted, someone loyal to the crown, knowing an extra coin would make no difference in their behavior, she made the exchange. 

Instead of a breath of fresh air, her chest tightened. This was the first step to the ultimate betrayal. 

Anxiety and panic filled her, all of her will and energy went to keeping it from the mating bond. Despite her current plans, she still cared deeply about Aelin, her health, and the health of the babe. But … how much of herself did she need to sacrifice? How much could she, before it broke her completely? 

“Is everything alright miss?” A guard asked at the gate. Miss. 

When did she start crying? 

“Just good news,” she put on her best cheery voice. He looked skeptical. “Really,” she insisted. 

“Alright,” he gave her a polite nod and she fled - well, walked as fast as she could get away with. He would undoubtedly go to someone. With Aedion gone for a few days, it would be Fenrys - the guard knew better than to approach Rowan at a time like this. Fenrys might be testy as well, she realized, but a safer option for them - and her. 

Fleeing for her safe space, she eyed the clock, counting the time until a white wolf appeared. 

Seven minutes. 

“You’re slow today,” she mumbled, wiping an errant tear with the back of her hand. 

Flash of light, a Fae male. 

“What’s wrong?” He said, voice deep and lined with a touch of exasperation. He cut to the chase, a touch of impatience in his tone. A tone he’d never taken with her before. 

“I should ask you that,” she bit back. 

His shoulders loosened. “I don’t like being away from her right now,” he admitted. 

She sent him a commiserating smile. “Neither do I.” 

He raised a brow. Why aren’t you there, you could read the words in his eyes. 

“Rowan is touchy,” she added. 

“I’m aware,” he drawled and sat on the couch opposite her, leaning forward, forearms against his thighs. “But I’m surprised he is even with you, his other mate” 

Other mate. Fenrys realized his poor choice of words immediately, she saw it in the look on his face. She waved it off, “I know you don’t mean it like that.” She wondered if he’d acknowledge the lie or brush it under the rug, and would’ve bet money on the second. 

“I don’t,” Fenrys said, “it doesn’t mean it's not wrong I said it like that.” 

Maybe she underestimated him. “I’m f-”

“Don’t say that, I know you don’t mean it,” he cut her off, “how are you handling this?” 

She pressed her lips into a tight line, going for as close to the truth as she can get. “I’m thrilled, nervous, and uncertain.” 

He huffed “you sound like the rest of us.” 

“I suppose I do,” she forced a smile. Concern flashed in those dark eyes, but he didn’t push, enough of that had been done today. 

-

She didn’t go to the healers with them, she never did anymore. The first time had been so much that they insisted only one mate could come with, and that went to Rowan. Personally, both she and Aelin thought she would’ve been the safer choice, less likely to murder someone, but even that couldn’t be completely guaranteed so it might as well be the king. It only reinforced her thoughts, without her it would be easier around. She thought it was probably better that way, each visit felt like the ticking of a clock, and at least here she could separate herself more with less worry that they would notice it. 

It felt like hours this time, and Fenrys kept her company today in her workshop. Good, better than being alone with her thoughts. Aelin was seven months pregnant, and weekly check ups quite obviously frustrated her but the rest of them didn’t care. Each check up was one week closer to her departure. 

Shaking her head clear of thoughts, her hand hovered over the material, flooding back and forth. It was frustrating, trying to get her magic to work as it used to. Half of the time she could make beautiful creations, even better than before, but the other half they were … not ugly but more angry is the best way she could describe it. They said magic spoke to her soul and she wondered what that meant about her. Nothing good. 

“I like this one,” Fenrys pointed towards a piece that pissed her off. Angry ripples of wood, different colors streaked between, “it’s … original.” 

“It should go in the trash,” she muttered. 

“No more breaking things,” he snorted, but she could hear a hint of worry. She rarely threw anything away - if anything she took them and tried to remake them over and over again. There was no point in throwing out old creations if they could tell a story of her life and work, or if they could be re-used. After the ‘broken glass episode,’ as she called it in her mind, she hated the sounds of anything breaking. 

Once, Aelin almost took the head off a poor courtier who’d accidentally broken a glass in her presence. At least her magic cooperated enough for her to make it nearly impossible for any glassware in this castle to break, unless someone intentionally threw it. The way it worked, her magic wouldn’t stop someone from breaking it if they wanted to, it only stopped accidents. 

Maybe if - when she reinvented herself somewhere else she could sell magically reinforced glassware. Although that might be too obvious and could get her caught. 

The southern continent might take her. She abandoned the glass, settling for tapping her fingers on her table instead. Fenrys was pacing by the door. This appointment had been an emergency and she was thinking of how she’d be leaving soon. 

More than ever before, she believed she was a truly terrible person. Someone, she had to tell someone about this - get them to convince her to quit this insanity. 

“Fen-” She started, his head turning towards her, just as they heard footsteps down the hall. Later on when the wolf asked what she wished to speak about earlier, she didn’t remember, mentioning offhand it must not have been very important. 

“Everything is well,” Aelin said as she entered, Rowan quick on her heels. They’d taken to coming here after - probably because she always had chocolate ready for Aelin. 

Sure enough, she slid a box of hazelnut chocolates across the table to her pregnant mate. She was absolutely insatiable. Nothing could curb her appetite, but she gladly fed the addiction. Anything to make her happy while she was still here. 

“I wish you could go to the appointments with me,” Aelin mumbled in between bites after Rowan stepped out of the room. “He’s such a bear.” 

“He’s always seemed more bird-like to me,” she countered automatically, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she focused on one piece of material. 

A palm slapped against the table, stifled breathing - panic - eyes shot up. Laughter. 

“That. Was. Horrible,” Aelin wheezed, but her cheeks were lifted, eyes light, and the giggles left her were contagious. 

“If I’m a bear,” Rowan grumbled, stalking through the door. Aelin shot you a hopeful look. Had she spoken in his hearing range on purpose? “Then let petal go next time instead.” 

Rowan turned, looking at her like he had a mental list of instructions ready. She gulped. What had she signed up for? A tiny glint in his eye told him she wasn’t too sure 

-

Her hands shook as they floated over the material. It took what felt like ages for her to work with glass again, and even now it still felt too raw but this was something she needed to do. And with the glass collected from her … melt down. A complete waste, that was. So many hours of work smashed into pieces, thrown into a bucket for her to try and fix her mistakes. She vowed to herself this wouldn’t be a mistake, that she was doing the ‘right’ thing. 

But … was it the right thing for her or for them? Could it be both? 

Too. Much. Thinking. 

She refocused on the object in front of her, passing her hands over it again, trying to let her magic flow from inside of her. Ever since her settling it had been a tad more difficult to access, but when she did manage to access it … well her workshop is now reinforced. Heavily. 

After the fifth attempt, she sighed and slid it to the side. This one had to be perfect, and if it wasn’t working now she might as well try again on a later date. If it wasn’t perfect … well, for who it was going to she’d accept nothing less from herself. Would it sting more if they knew the effort she put into it? When the time comes? 

Generally, that thought would’ve kept her mind swirling for hours but she was so damn tired that as soon as she laid her head down on her bench to ‘rest’ for a moment, she was out. 

“Beautiful,” a lovely voice whispered into her ear, a warm hand running down her arm, warmth spreading behind her. She jerked up, nearly falling out of her chair. 

“Shit,” she muttered, glancing at the clock, dings and tears on the outside. Worn down from where years ago it was shiny and new. It only started breaking down more after she moved to the castle. 

Aelin laughed, the sound beautiful and carrying. She glanced at her pregnant mate, Radiant as always. “You should get some more sleep,” she tutted. 

“You’re pregnant you should be,” she yawned, hand covering her mouth. 

“Hush,” Aelin murmured, reaching a hand to her. In her tired state, the hand seemed like a lifeline, a symbol. She took the land, but used her other to push herself out of her seat, refusing to let Aelin do any lifting. 

“I’m not incapable,” Aelin said, an edge to her tone. 

“You’d do the same to me,” she countered, pulling her hand away to cross her arms in mock stern-ness. 

Aelin frowned and snatched her hand back. “This is mine,” she flipped it off and placed a kiss on her palm, before tugging her towards the door, “and I’m hungry.”

Not for the first time that day, she wondered if she was doing the right thing.

-

It felt like years, when in reality it was months, but eventually it was ready. 

“I need to go grab something,” she murmured one night, perhaps an hour or so before they’d turn down for bed. Rowan and Aelin didn’t particularly like when she went wandering around alone after dark, but this was when she wanted to give it to them. “From my workshop,” she clarified. 

“Nobody’s stopping you,” Rowan sounded a little snippy. 

Throat tightening, she nodded and turned, blinking back tears at the slight embarrassment. Has nobody really been stopping her? Had this all actually been inside of her head? 

“Wait,” Rowan’s voice floated through the open doorway. She turned to see the male standing there, filling the space completely, the corners of his mouth softened slightly. “Let me come with you.” 

“You can’t,” she backed away, but a natural smile started playing on her lips. “It’s a surprise.” 

“I’ll close my eyes,” he took one step into the hall. 

“No,” she insisted. She’d worked too hard on it to have the surprise ruined for one of them. It had to be both or nothing. 

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes lightly, but she could’ve sworn she detected some fondness in his tone. “Be quick,” he added. 

She shifted, senses sharpening, a white fox sprinting down the hall. A fae female carried back the gift, perfectly wrapped in a small gold box, a neat bow sealing it. 

-

The cautious way she held it caught Aelin’s attention first, as if it was the most precious thing she’d encountered in so very long. She knew instinctively it was one of her creations. 

Do you know what this is? She looked at Rowan. 

No, he answered her silently, and she caught the curiosity in his eyes, probably reflected in her own. 

She motioned for Rowan to sit, and he did - amusing her. Her mate’s thigh pressed against her own, a strong and comforting weight. She stood before them, and held it out almost like someone presenting a gift at court, her hands shaking slightly. Her hands rarely shook. Aelin frowned, but working in-sync she and Rowan took the box together. 

Carefully, the bow was slid open, the lid tilted back - an involuntary gasp left her. She nearly dropped it. Thanks the fucking Gods Rowan was holding it or she might’ve spiraled if she’d somehow broken it. 

A beautiful glass sphere, painstakingly decorated with the Lord of the North, trees, rivers, mountains, kingsflame, and several other tiny decorations that must’ve taken her hours. How long had she been working on this?

More than that, as far as Aelin knew it was the first glass decoration she’d created since the episode, as she called it in her mind. 

Shattered glass. Blood. Screaming. She pushed it out of her mind, refocusing herself on the present. 

Rowan was already standing and embracing her. Carefully and slowly rising, she joined. 

For as long as it was together, the glass had a proud place on the mantelpiece, prime sight for any who walked in the rooms spot it. 

-

It was time. Barely a week after her gift, she’d received the imminent word Aelin was going into labor. An hour later, she ran. 

Not being there for her mate at her most vulnerable time nearly killed her, but she knew Rowan wouldn’t dare leave Aelin’s side to come look for her. They knew where she’d be, but they wouldn’t risk outraging the Wolf Tribe and alienating some of their subjects by coming to steal her in the middle of the night. She’d heard them acknowledge it before when they thought she was sleeping. They’ve always underestimated her, she thought. 

She wrote down the words rehearsed in her mind for months, edited and changed over and over again until they made sense. 

Don’t come looking for me, you know what will happen if you do. I’ll come back when I’m ready. I swear I love you. 

She sliced the tip of her finger with her dagger, let three drops, one for each of them, dripped onto the paper and folded it in three before placing it in as obvious of  a position as possible, their names stitched on the front in her elegant cursive. Would they burn the letter or keep it? 

It didn’t matter. 

She snuck through the castle, taking servants passageways and back exits until she was at the edges of the city. Stashed in a hidden hole next to a tree were her supplies. She slipped her arms through the loops of the pack before setting off. 

The new tree growth and winter morning smelt like fresh air and freedom to her, like a new beginning and dawn she never thought she’d see, despite the strong and ever growing tug attempting to bring her back to her mates. 

That thought posed another question, could they really be her mates if she could hurt them like this? 

She knew, in her soul, this was a betrayal she’d never come back for. What she was breaking could never be remade in its original form or anything similar. She kept going, without so much as a look over her shoulder. Yes, she felt the pain and misery and likely would for the rest of her miserable immortal life but at least she did something for herself. 

-  

Rowan knew in his soul she was gone. Physically. 

If he detached himself from the situation, he would recognize how she had good timing and planning, perhaps even appreciate it. But he wasn’t, instead he was filled with fury. That fury was contained with his pregnant wife and mate currently in labor in front of him. Distracted enough she didn’t know yet, and he’d keep it that way for as long as he could. Rowan wasn’t certain he wouldn’t hurt her for everything she was about to put Aelin through. He couldn’t kill her but he could make her life a living hell and in his current anger he swore he would. 

Surrounding himself and the room in a shield of wind, drowning out all sounds, his shaking fingers closed around the glass orb she’d painstakingly created for them. Even months of work, fine lines and pure artistry were no help in quelling his anger. Rowan let his fingers release, and the orb smashed on the tile flooring. 

He already knew could be a vindictive and cruel son of a bitch, but she was going to find out just how cruel and vindictive he could be. Boots crunched over glass, her fate sealed. 

-

taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @inloveallthetime @sstrohma @fightmedraco @daughterofthemoons-stuff @skinny-baby-4eva @feyres-fireheart @helloevilmuffins @panther-girl-124 @starsinyourseyes @natiebug1 @paleidiot @agent-anna @123345566

[livwritesstuff]

‘Tis officially prom season in the US and I’ve been thinking about how that would go for Steve and Eddie and their daughters.

Steve might have managed to use his chronic migraines to weasel his way out of trips to the mall for the girls’ entire lives, but he suddenly finds himself conveniently immune when the girls ask him to run point on their prom dress-shopping crusade.

In the end, the most difficult out of their three daughters was Moe by a mile. Over time, Steve had gathered that all the dressing up surrounding formal events was a rare source of insecurity for Moe. She managed to avoid her junior prom (even though Steve knew she wanted to go, and she’d moped around the house that entire night). When her senior prom rolled around, Eddie and Steve conspired with Moe’s best friend Gray to make sure that Moe actually went this time.

That was when Steve got roped into dress-shopping with Moe, which didn’t see a strong start to begin with and ended in a total meltdown on Moe’s part about how much she hates dresses.

“So don’t wear a dress!” Steve told her from outside the fitting room, “Moe – nothing about this is that serious. If you hate dresses, wear a suit. Wear your damn basketball uniform. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you go and you have fun or whatever. Gray really wants to go, and you and I both know that Gray isn’t gonna go if you don’t.”

Apparently, that was the right thing to say, and Moe ends up wearing something along the lines of this (the tie is Steve’s, the lapel pin on the pocket is one of Eddie’s).

Robbie surprised Steve by actually being excited about prom. She’s not usually into that kind of thing (especially when it’s school-sanctioned), but she’s got all of Eddie’s flair for dramatics so maybe it actually kind of makes sense. She went into dress-shopping with a vision (“I’m thinking Kate Winslet’s red dress in Titanic meets Bride of Frankenstein” which, frankly, Steve didn’t think was possible) but she’s Robbie, so she had enough blind determination to pull it off. It takes twenty-two grueling hours over the span of two weekends, but she pulls it off.

Imagine a combination of this and this and that’s what Robbie finds (she also says, “It’s kinda vintage, right?” which kills Steve a little bit because, sure, maybe it’s similar to Erica’s prom dress in ‘93 – but since the hell when were the nineties vintage?)

Out of the three, Hazel was the one who looked forward to prom the most, especially after watching her sisters get to go for years, and she’s also the “girliest” (objectively speaking) – she loves makeup and pretty things and dressing up nice, so she was over-the-moon when it was finally her turn.

Steve went into dress-shopping with Hazel prepared for a long and painful battle just like he’d done with the other two, but then Hazel ends up falling in love with one of the first dresses she tries on, and suddenly Steve is like, “Wait-wait-wait, that’s it??? It’s over”. He definitely doesn’t appreciate the wake-up call that his littlest girl is practically all grown up.

Hazel is also the only one who goes to both her junior prom and her senior prom. She wears something like this to her junior prom and this to her senior prom, and Steve is a total mess both times.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Sated [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@hotchbabygirl) Center (@psykopaths) Right (@aiirene)

Prompt: Aaron and the reader continue to have to postpone being intimate with each other, and when the jet breaks down stopping Aaron from being with the reader one more time, he takes matters into his own hands to get what they both desperately want. 

Pairing: [established relationship] Aaron x non!BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: fluff/comfort/smut

Word Count: 8K

A/N: Content warning after the cut. Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. Content warning after the cut. I have had the idea for this fic for ages, and it’s finally here. Sorry for my lack of writing/posting. I’m trying hard to stop procrastinating at my real job, which takes away from my writing time which I love. I might consider this pwp if you squint, but let me know what you think. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your weekend and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

Content Warnings: Sex [Hotch and reader], shared masturbation, phone/video sex, use of sex toys [reader], hand job [Hotch] mutual pining, Aaron and the reader are horny, mention of poisoning and death [brief and case related], fear-mongering about the border, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol and food. Please let me know if I missed any. 

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

_y/f/d_= your favorite dinner 

_y/f/s/s_ = your favorite scented soap

Aaron had been itching to get back to y/n for ages now. It had been issue after issue that had kept them intimately apart for weeks. The jet breaking down had been the last straw as he moved back toward his room in the hotel for yet another night without the warm and calming presence of his partner's body and pussy close to him. This desire to be sated had been building up for some time. Hotch wasn’t always so needy, but it had been a long road here. It had started with their last date when Aaron had come over, and they’d agreed to take a long walk and look at the fancy houses two blocks from y/n’s modest apartment. The contrast in wealth was often astounding to y/n, who every now and then complained about rents being raised every year without a change to her salary. And even though she could run her mouth about that kind of thing, she said it less and less often now that she was dating Aaron. He’d helped make her apartment much more livable by fixing the leaky faucet and putting up removable wallpaper that she could take down once she inevitably moved in with him. That was a conversation still to come, but something they were both thinking of. Aaron had done a host of other things for her around her one-bedroom unit as well while she watched him dreamily. y/n adored him in a plain t-shirt or even better, one of his faded academy shirts or hoodies from his law school days that barely held together anymore. Often after he was sweaty from a project, y/n would offer him some cold water and lead him to bed, where she’d have the pleasure of peeling off his clothes. They’d make quick work of making passionate love after they had both stripped bare, sometimes going two rounds.

But as often as they could be found in the sheets or the shower, or wherever the couple might find to have sex, they were also good at reading each other’s energy levels and not pushing for intimacy if one or both of them was not feeling up to it. Aaron realized pretty quickly in his relationship with y/n that she enjoyed him just as much relaxing on his chest on the sofa while he played with her hair as she did while he was pinning her to the bed and making her moan out his name so all of her neighbors could hear them. This was perfect for both of them because it gave them quality time to relax together and get to know each other outside the confines of sex and that side of exploration of the other. Hotch was a good bit older than y/n, and he worried that he wouldn’t be able to perform for her as much as he wanted or y/n expected. But as it turned out, they fit each other perfectly both in and outside of the bedroom. There had been no sex on their last date, as they both were exhausted, but they’d talked about the future and what they hoped to achieve this year personally and in their shared life. 

Then a case had pulled Aaron away from y/n and it overlapped with Valentine's Day. He’d planned a nice dinner and to wine and dine y/n before they came back for some alone time while Jack was with a sitter for the evening. That didn’t end up happening, and y/n called the restaurant to cancel. Hotch had only had the chance to get about a twenty-minute call to y/n to tell her that he loved her before he got word that another victim had been found by Emily. By the time he’d gotten home from that case which dealt with heartache and murder, Aaron was too tired to do much else but collapse into y/n’s arms when he got to her place. She helped him to the bed, out of his oxfords, and then his tie and pants. Aaron smiled up at her and said in a quiet voice, “Sweetheart, don’t bother folding that stuff. I’ll get it dry cleaned on the weekend. I just want you in my arms, baby.” y/n turned to him and ran a hand down his jawline and dropped his clothes on the floor. y/n moved to turn off the lights in the entryway, bathroom, and bedroom before dropping into bed next to Aaron who had snuggled under the covers. Hotch pulled her close to his chest and buried his face in her neck and shoulder blades. y/n opened her legs enough for Aaron to slide one of his legs between hers. The warmth of her thighs around his leg grounded him, and y/n took his hand in hers and placed it on her side while asking, “Bad case, Aaron?” Hotch mumbled into the crook of her neck and replied, “Yeah.” y/n squeezed his larger hand. She wanted to be cognizant of his triggers, of the things that might make him relive things again either from his past or prior cases, but y/n also wanted to let him know that there was always an open channel of communication between them. So, y/n inquired broadly, “Kids?” Hotch nodded again and replied in a low voice, “Um-hm. Just two kids. Cousins. That was enough.” 

Aaron rarely expanded on case details. One because it would break security protocols and two, and more importantly to him, he wanted to save y/n from the horrors of what he saw on the field.  Sometimes, however, he painted her a vague picture of the team's exploits on their crazier cases without giving her any details on the unsub or the victims. Not that y/n was looking for the unsub or victims. However, she cared about Aaron and wanted to make sure he was okay physically and mentally. Dating an FBI agent did make reading the newspaper on the weekends more suspenseful. y/n would read a headline and look at Hotch and he’d come around to see what it was she was looking at and reassure her that he wouldn’t be involved in that, or that she shouldn’t be concerned. y/n’s mind snapped back to Aaron as his hand left hers and wrapped around her waist. y/n didn’t mind days like these when they were snuggled close and she let Aaron physically relax by her presence. Within a few minutes and y/n saying soft words and gentle brushes of her hand, Hotch fell asleep with y/n following shortly after. 

This had all been fine and both y/n and Aaron were happy, but their anniversary was coming up and Hotch had planned another night for them to make up for missing Valentine’s. This time he had planned on making dinner for them both and then he had a vision in his mind of what would come after. He flushed at the very idea of what he had in mind. y/n was so excited about what he’d told her to expect. Something about a bottle of her favorite red wine, _y/f/d_, and some dancing in the living room with his beige couch and table pushed out of the way while their playlist was in the background. Then there was the comment that had taken y/n’s breath away when he’d whispered in her ear, “And let me add, that I’m just grateful you're on birth control too. We might need it after our night is finished.” y/n had been so flustered that Aaron took the opportunity to peck her mouth and pull back, saying, “Penny for your thought sweetheart.” y/n pulled out of her reverie and smiled slyly saying, “hmm. You’ll have to pay me a whole lot more than that for me to share. But, if you’re patient, and you wait till our anniversary, I’d be more than happy to show you.” Hotch flushed and was itching for that day to come sooner. He’d make a move now, but it was his weekend with Jack, and he wanted to spend some quality time with his son. He and y/n would spend that Saturday taking Jack to the rollercade where his son and y/n always managed to lap him and he somehow always ended up on his ass. It was going to be a fun day no matter how many times he fell. 

That weekend came and went and Aaron didn’t anticipate seeing y/n again until that weekend on their anniversary because both of their weeks looked busier than usual. The anticipation only made Friday night more and more enticing. Hotch limped into the office and made it almost to his door when Rossi came out of his office and noticed Aaron’s odd gait. Dave couldn’t help but joke. “You and y/n try something new this weekend?” Hotch rolled his eyes in a way he only did when Rossi ribbed him. Aaron replied, “Unfortunately not unless you could falling while roller skating counts as something new.” He paused for a second and continued, “It’s actually been a minute since we’ve done… that.” Dave raised an eyebrow and asked, “Problems?” Hotch answered, “Far from. We’re just both busy and tired recently.” Aaron didn’t add on how he likes to be fully present and energized when he and y/n have sex. But to him, his stamina was essential so he could bring y/n to climax multiple times and in as many ways as they wanted. Aaron flushed again at the thought and said, “Now, any more questions about our personal life, Dave?” Rossi scoffed, and replied, “Nope. Grilling over. Someone has to check in on you.” Hotch rolled his eyes once more and unlocked his door to get out of Rossi’s mirthful gaze. Secretly Aaron was happy Rossi looked after him, and his sex life. It wasn’t exactly an easy topic for him to discuss with anyone apart from y/n, but it was nice to know that Rossi was invested in all parts of his life. The team was invested too, annoyingly sometimes. They all adored y/n, and she loved them too, but sometimes he caught them whispering and looking in his direction when y/n was around. He wasn’t so insecure to think that they were making fun of him, but y/n was younger than him and it could end up being a topic of conversation that he chose to ignore most days. 

The day started as normal in the office but ended in one of the most frustrating cases he’d seen in years and yet another reason why he couldn’t get to y/n and satisfy their needs. When JJ dropped the case off on his desk he thought it would be a short affair. Murders in a small Texas border town normally meant that it was drug-related and the jurisdiction went back to Mexico or it was a local or personal dispute that could be easily figured out in a town of three thousand people. It turned out to be the latter, a wife wanted to divorce her husband, but the poison intended for him accidentally ended up at the family reunion killing seven people. As easy a case at it turned out to be for the BAU, as soon as the team arrived the town was swamped. The police of Procedio Texas wanted all the credit for cracking the case, but one of the victims was from Big Bend, so the Big Bend Police force sent two units to try and solve the case as well. Along with this and the constant media blast about the tension at the Southern border of the United States, State Troopers and Border agents had come as well hoping to push the narrative of fear about those immigrating and people allegedly flooding the country with cocaine. 

It was a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. The precinct didn’t have enough space or resources for all of the people there, and the team was bombarded with fifty different angles and agendas upon arrival. It was annoying as if those trying to swing them in a certain direction did ‘t know full well that the BAU had to be fully unbiased as they worked. There were lots of wild leads and bad reporting and mostly it was hot. Hot and crowded. Something about the elevation and the Texas sun made sweat drip down Aaron's neck and back under his white shirt and suit in an uncomfortable way. It had been Derek who had finally cracked the wife who ended up telling Morgan and Emily that it had all been an accident. Everyone but the BAU seemed disappointed. The team was just happy they would finally be able to go home. No one could be more excited than Aaron. If the jet left in less than five hours, he’d be able to make it to the highly awaited anniversary dinner and his plans after. The thought had him a bit flustered as they finished up at the hotel and moved toward the small airstrip where the jet was being prepped. 

It wasn’t until everyone was on the plane that the pilot stated after five minutes on the ground, “Hey everyone. I’m sorry but we’re going to have to disembark. There’s something wrong with the electrical system that’s just popped up and I’ll need to get it checked out before we’re cleared to fly. This made everyone groan,  and Aaron ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Everyone got out but Hotch who moved to the cockpit and checked in with the pilot asking how long he approximated the fix would take. He asked for the team and himself. The man shrugged and said, “Depending on what’s wrong it could be an hour or it could be overnight. I’ll keep you updated Agent Hotchner. Sorry about the delay.” Aaron nodded and moved off the jet and onto the blistering tarmac. He knew it wasn’t the pilot's fault; he was just annoyed. Rossi had waited for him while the rest of the team went to get more vans to drive them back to the motel. Dave raised an eyebrow at him and Aaron replied to the unspoken question in a clipped tone, “He’s not sure. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while.” Rossi nodded and asked, “You sounded bummed about it.” Aaron rolled his eyes and replied, “You’re not? Tonight y/n and I had plans for our anniversary. I miss her.” Rossi got the implication and gave Hotch a pat on the shoulder as they moved toward the cars that were rolling toward them. Before they got in, Dave said, “Well, maybe it’s time to think outside the box.” 

The team ended up having to get another night at the motel and after everyone had settled and put their bags back in their rooms, most of the BAU made plans to get dinner at one of the restaurants in town. Emily asked Aaron if he wanted to join them, but he politely told her no, that he needed to call y/n and let her know that he wasn’t coming home tonight. Prentiss saw the disappointed look on his face and said, “Well, I’ll pick you up something to-go and keep it in my fridge. You can come and knock on my door when you want it.” Aaron gave her a smile and pat on the shoulder, appreciative of how she looked out for him. Once everyone was gone, Aaron picked up his cell and called y/n. His mind wandered to what he wanted to be doing to y/n right now or had planned for later that night, and he couldn’t help but let out a small groan at his image of her spread out on his bed, legs apart and shaking for him as he licked her cunt and clit over and over again until her first orgasm had her thighs wrapped tightly around his face pulling him closer to her core. He’d let her rest for a moment before prying her legs open again as y/n was still panting. He’d tease her entrance before sliding his cock deep inside her to have another go and get off himself for the first time. The very thought had his member twitching in his black slacks. Aaron couldn’t hold back the thoughts anymore. He’d waited for what felt like so long to satisfy y/n and himself, but her pleasure always came above his own. The tightness in his crotch told him how badly he needed y/n, and Rossi’s words rang in his ears turning them, and the rest of his face red. 

Hotch had an idea flash in his head as he waited for y/n to pick up. He wondered if he could even do it. He and Haley had been traditional, this idea would never fly with her. But y/n, either to due her age or just plain confidence was more adventurous than Haley had been. They tried new things in and out of the bedroom and Aaron wondered, for a moment, if she might agree to his wild idea. With the state of his cock pressing against his fly, he was going to need to do something to relieve the pressure, and if he couldn’t be there with her tonight in person, maybe there was another way for them to get off. Just as he was building up the idea, y/n picked up. 

y/n picked up her phone from the side table as she was fixing up Aaron’s place for when he got home. She had bought Aaron a bottle of his favorite scotch for him to sip on after dinner and before the real fun would begin. y/n was tidying up Hotch’s room and just moving to clean the kitchen so it gleamed when her phone beeped to life. y/n wasn’t expecting a Facetime call from Aaron. Normally after a case, he would give her a quick call on the way to the tarmac or on the jet where the reception was choppy at best. So already, y/n suspected something was up with that. She quickly swiped the answer on the call and smiled as Aaron’s beautiful face filled the screen. “Hey sweetheart,” he said in a voice that was a bit deeper than y/n expected. She noticed that he wasn’t in the jet and that he looked flustered. His eyes seemed deeper than normal. y/n smiled at him and replied, “Hi love. Did something go wrong? Is everyone on the team okay? Are you okay?” Hotch let out a huff and ran a hand through the hair on the back of his head. He said, “Well, everyone’s okay, But… well the jet isn’t. I think it’s going to be down for the night.” Aaron watched as y/n’s face fell and his heart clenched in his chest. He tried to not let the frustration get to him. Life happened, just at unfortunate times.  y/n swallowed back her disappointment as she realized that Aaron wasn’t coming home tonight. “Oh,” y/n let out, adding, “Well that’s frustrating, but your gift got delayed by FedEx so I guess it’s a blessing in disguise?” Aaron knew y/n was trying to keep a good attitude, and he appreciated that she tried to see the silver lining in things. He nodded and said, “Well… I had a few things planned that I thought you might like tonight too, and well… Maybe we could still do them in a way. Over the phone?” 

y/n tilted her head. The way he was talking was the way he talked right before they had sex. Even though he was excellent in bed, he always got a little shy. y/n was slightly shocked that Aaron would come up with such an idea, but it wasn’t unappealing, in fact, y/n’s core clenched in the way it always did when they started kissing and heading to the bedroom. However, they’d never had phone sex before, and y/n wasn’t sure if or how it would work between them. y/n also didn’t want to read into the situation too much in case this wasn’t what he was implying. If it wasn’t, y/n would be mortified. So to ensure she wasn’t wrong, y/n said coyly, “What exactly are you insinuating, Aaron.” 

Hotch’s face turning red told y/n that she was right, but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. Instead, she smiled at him reassuringly as he said, “Well, I was thinking.” Aaron took a breath and continued with more confidence, “I was thinking that because I won’t be there tonight, we could come together, like if we were with each other, just on the phone?” y/n’s eyes glistened and Hotch’s flustered face made him so attractive. y/n nodded and replied, “Okay Aaron, we can try. I, I um, I’ve never tried that before, but I’d like to since we can’t be together. Just” y/n’s words faltered. She realized that she was now as shy as Aaron. y/n was going to say not for him to make fun of her, but he never would. Not in any scenario would he put her through that. That fact made y/n more confident, and she said, “Never mind about that last bit. So, how are we going to make this work? We both need our hands for what we’re talking about.”  

Aaron paused. The idea had come so quickly to him and he wasn’t sure what came next exactly. His brain kicked in and he said with a sheepish smile, “How about I send you a Zoom link from my account? That way we can see and hear each other better and we’ll have our hands too.” He watched as the idea flirted through y/n’s mind. He could tell that she was a little hesitant to try this, and he said, “y/n, we don’t have to do this. I understand if you want to wait for me to be there. I just miss you in that way. I miss being with you.” y/n softly smiled at his reassurance and said, “I miss you too, Aaron. Happy anniversary by the way. I kind of forgot when you said you couldn’t come home. And, I want to try this with you. Could you give me a few minutes to just take a quick shower and get in bed? You can send the link and I’ll open it when I’m ready?” Aaron nodded, happy to know that they were going to try for something and that y/n wanted this like he did. It also comforted him that y/n needed a few moments to get ready and composed. Hotch wasn’t feeling that composed either as he nodded, told y/n that she could take all the time she needed and that he’d send her the link in a minute or two. 

When Hotch hung up he took a long breath. He was surprised at himself for getting the idea out there and rather proud of himself too. That wasn’t a guarantee for what would come after they started, but it was a start. Aaron’s cock twitched in his pants again and he knew he’d need to calm down for a moment of risk coming all over his neither regions with just a few strokes of his hand if he heard y/n making the sounds he adored so much when they were together. His body was more pent-up and ready for release than he had realized. Aaron quickly pulled out his laptop and flipped to Google and his saved tabs. He kept Zoom pinned to the homepage because he often used it to talk to Jack when cases ran long and Jack needed a few minutes with his dad. Aaron always obliged his son when he could with this. He never wanted his absences to feel like a full departure for Jack and this was the easiest way for both of them if it was a longer talk. But what Hotch had planned here was nothing wholesome. Aaron tapped his fingers quickly and hashly across his keys and he brought up a new meeting and just titled it y/n. He sent her the link and access code and moved off of the bed. He knew that if y/n was just taking a quick shower and getting into something more comfortable, she’d only be about twenty or twenty-five minutes, so he took time to kick off his pants and get into a blue sweatshirt. He moved to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face and neck to cool him down slightly. He then moved back to the room pulled a cold water bottle from the fridge and took a few big sips. He was feeling warm already. Aaron turned to look at the image of himself reflected in the mirror on the wall across the bed. He realized that if he was facing forward on the bed he’d see himself and that didn’t seem that appealing to him. Yes, he and y/n might have liked to show off in bed, but the idea of doing that here in the hotel room with just him inside seemed narcissistic to him, so he pulled a towel from the bathroom and placed it over most of the mirror. He also decided to face away from the mirror just in case he could still see some part of himself reflected. The mirror did give him an idea for when he got back home to y/n and that sent another jolt through Aaron’s member and he stifled a groan. 

y/n was did take a quick shower to just relax for what was coming and to feel a bit more confident before it started. She washed over her body with _y/f/s/s_ under the warm, steady spray of the shower head. When she got out, she spritzed on a body spray that she knew Aaron liked. y/n had bought new lingerie for the evening in hopes of making Aaron, well Aaron and it was a style that she thought would drive him crazy. For a second she considered saving them, but why not wear them now Hotch still had eyes, and he’d see them fine on Zoom. They were sheer were her pussy was already getting wet and there was lace on the sides that matched her skin tone perfectly. There was also an accompanying bra to match with similar sheer panels for her breasts and lace on the band that wrapped around her back. y/n hoped this wasn’t too much. However, she didn’t want to just pop up on camera nude, as she highly doubted Aaron would do so. He was too much a gentleman for that. y/n lit a candle on the side table, threw away the match, and turned on the lamps in the room for a more atmospheric environment that would keep her calm and let her body unwind to be able to do what she wanted to do. Finally, y/n pulled out her laptop and opened her email. The Zoom link was waiting for her and with a last hint of hesitation, she clicked “join meeting.” 

Aaron was sitting on the bed with just the lamps on when y/n joined. His boxes were still on and he had pushed the laptop screen up so it was mostly his head, upper chest, and torso that filled the frame. When y/n’s camera turned on and he saw that she was wearing a new set of _y/f/c_ brazier and panties, his jaw slightly dropped, and his brain momentarily went blank. Suddenly his T-shirt felt incorrect for the occasion. He cleared his throat and said, “Oh my God, y/n. You look too hot in that. Did you get those just for me? Are they new?” From the screen, y/n smiled and tried to say something but her mic was muted. Aaron shifted forward and said, “Sweetheart, you're on mute darling.” When y/n recognized what Hotch had said, she rolled her eyes and moved forward on the bed so that she turned on her mic. This gave Aaron a much closer look at her beautiful tits, and he wasn’t mad about that one bit. There was a hint of embarrassment as y/n audibly said, “Oh lord, it’s all going South already. Why is forgetting to turn on your mic the most embarrassing thing ever?” Hotch chuckled and said, “Sweetie, there are a lot more embarrassing things than that. Now, would you let me get a look at what you have on. It looks fantastic on you.” y/n flushed and moved farther back from the computer at the head of the bed. She sat on her thighs with her knees open slightly enough apart for Aaron to get the whole package. y/n placed her arms behind her back which pushed out her chest a bit more for him as well. She could see his eye flash dangerously and his tongue slipped between his parted lips and wet them in a flash. Without saying anything, she shifted her weight up and turned to the side so he could see the details on the side and her profile lit by the lamp behind her. 

When y/n was back in a more natural position on the bed, Aaron said, “y/n, do you have any idea how badly I want to strip those things off of you right now?” y/n smiled and replied, “What, these old things?” while stroking a hand over her chest and down to her center. Hotch let out a hot breath and said, “You’re being a tease tonight, aren’t you, y/n.” y/ replied, “Only as much as you. You still have your shirt on and I haven’t seen very much of you, love.” Aaron nodded and took the hem of his shirt stripped it off and threw it to the floor He also sat up a bit so y/n could see the large bulge in his underwear clearly in need of attention. y/n let out a little whimper at the sight and she wasn’t sure if the sound carried enough for Aaron to hear. y/n realized she’d have to be a little more vocal to make sure Aaron got all of her pleasure and moans of his name. Aaron swallowed back a little grunt. Her vocalization was barely audible, but it turned him on massively. He moved a hand to his groin and stroked over his underwear. His hips jerked a bit with the movement and he moaned slightly. 

Aaron’s dark eyes looked at y/n as he said, “If I were there I’d slip my hands up your body and rest them on your breasts and massage them until your nipples got hard and begged to be played with. Instinctually y/n moved her hands up to her chest and did as he said even though her nipples had already become hard with his statement. The small bumps and hard center moved under her hand. They were sensitive and y/n let out a little moan when she pinched them with her fingers. Hotch kept moving his hand slowly up and down his clothed length as he said, “You sound so pretty like that, y/n. Keep playing with them for me love. You know how I adore your breasts.” It wasn’t long before y/n’s fingers slipped under her bra and she started tweaking her nipples the way Aaron liked to. All teasing fingers until his warm mouth got involved. The idea made her moan and her panties which were already wet, wetter. As hot as the idea was, her hands weren’t as skilled as Aaron’s large ones. Although Hotch had stamina and strength, he was always gentle with the foreplay. Helping y/n ease into whatever they had planned or innovated for the night. y/n knew she was being rougher than he was, but couldn’t find the right touch. After a few more moments of this, y/n slipped her hand under the right and then left straps of the bra and let it slide down her chest. Hotch took a deep breath like it was the first time ever seeing her like this. y/n had a way of memorizing him with her body that no one else had before. y/n undid the clasp at the back of the garment and tossed it aside. 

Aaron cleared his throat and asked, “Are you wet sweetheart?” y/n whimpered as her fingers traced down her center line past the waistband and into her warm folds slick with anticipation. Aaron stopped his palm where it was midway up his dick as precum beaded at the top of his cock. y/n took in a sharp breath as y/n’s fingers traced her clit up and down from her entrance to her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she could hear Aaron groan her name. When y/n opened her eyes which were still half-lidded, she saw Aaron had pushed his briefs down his groin and they bunched around his hips and under his balls. His pubic hair was dark, and y/n wished she could push her mouth down this dribbling cock to the root. To feel him throb inside her throat as he guided her head up and down his length as he pleased. y/n couldn’t take waiting much longer and she knew her hand wasn’t going to be enough anymore. Not after she’d had Aaron for as long as she had. y/n pulled her hand out of her panties and Hotch asked, “Hmmm. What do you taste like, baby? Since I can’t be there to try you myself. 

y/n pulled her dripping fingers from her pussy to her mouth and sucked them clean while Aaron watched, and his hand and hips started moving again. y/n pulled her fingers from her mouth and said, “It’s salty. Like your cum but different. Ugh. Babe, I’m going to get a toy if you don’t mind.” Aaron’s hips halted mid-way through moving up from the bed, and he replied, “Darling, do whatever you need to do sweetheart. I don’t mind if you use a toy at all.” y/n was a bit flustered. They’d talked about sex toys and getting off while they were both away before. Neither Hotch nor y/n often felt like getting off without the other, but sometimes the wait was long and instinct played out. Hotch had asked y/n if she used toys before him and bashfully y/n had nodded her head, though she admitted it was nothing compared to him pushing deep inside her until she could barely take any more of his length. He pulled out and pushed in again and again tantalizingly slow as he picked up to a furious pace; pushing her into the mattress with his strength and weight. Hotch had only once passed by her small basket of toys on a high shelf as he changed a lightbulb she could reach in her closet. He didn’t spend much time looking at her things, it didn’t bother him that she had them; he was fully aware that it took women a lot more effort than it did him imagining y/n undressed and seated over his cock while in the shower. But now that Aaron was going to get a chance to see y/n move with her own pleasure in mind, he was more interested to see how she acted and what she liked. 

After a moment and some shifting from the closet, y/n returned with a vibrator. y/n set back down on the bed. She knew she was going to have to go wash the sheets after this, but it didn’t matter. They’d be fresh when Aaron came back at least. y/n felt a small pang that he wasn’t here in person right now but pushed it aside to focus on the fact that he was still there just on a screen. Hotch watched as y/n settled on her back and tipped the laptop so he could see her face a bit of her lower body, but getting the angle right seemed difficult for Aaron to see all of her. y/n turned on the wand pressed the head to her still hard nipples and let the vibrations course through her sensitive skin. y/n let out another moan before turning to Aaron and asking, “How are you doing baby? Are you feeling good?” Hotch nodded, absolutely absorbed by y/n’s every movement. He was working almost on autopilot now, but the feeling of precum on his left hand as he moved it up and down reminded him that he needed to pace himself. He cleared his throat and replied, “Good y/n. I feel so good watching you like that. Why don’t you take it slow y/n. You don’t need to rush. Do what feels good for you.” y/n nodded and a wistful smile played on her face as she saw the need in Aaron’s eyes and the way the tip of his dick was red and needy. 

y/n pushed the head of her vibrator between her fold and slid it up her clit. The vibrations sent a jolt through her and Aaron watched as her face changed to one of concentration and pleasure as her body twitched. y/n increased her moans and she moved more to try and find the right spot to orgasm. y/n clicked up the intensity on her toy and looked as Aaron started moving his hand faster. y/n took a few minutes to run her toy up and down her pussy as her juices dripped onto the sheets. y/n was getting tired of getting close to the edge and losing it. Aaron watched with sympathy as her face focused on her task. He knew if he was there, he could help her get over the edge with his mouth, hands, and cock. He grunted slightly as he almost spilled over the edge. y/n pulled her toy off her body and slumped back on the bed. It felt good, and y/n had come in the past with the toy, but somehow having Aaron watching her seemed to affect her. y/n caught her breath and said, “Aaron, I don’t know if I can do it right now.” She sat up and Hotch’s eyes moved over her body that he could tell was tense for release. Hotch stopped touching himself again and said, “Sweetheart, would you try once more? What if I told you what I would do if I was there? Do you have a dildo baby? You can pretend I’m right there with you.” 

y/n considered this for a moment and said, “Okay, I’ll try, but you must be so close. You look like it, Aaron. Do you want to get off first? I don’t mind.” Hotch chuckled and said, “It’s okay, y/n. Once I touch myself again I’ll come, but I can wait a moment. I might not be able to hold it until you climax, but I want you to have that rush that I can give you.” y/n nodded and got off the bed again. She pulled out her favorite dildo, which she never expected to be used in front of Aaron, and moved back to the bed. y/n felt for a moment like hiding it behind her back, but he didn’t. Aaron looked at y/n’s choice. The new toy was flesh-colored and not as wide as he was. For some reason, this gave him a small surge of pride which he realized was very silly. Nevertheless, he smiled. y/n got back on the bed and Hotch said, “Darling, why don’t you put the computer at the foot of the bed? Then you won’t have to worry about how you look or if I’m watching. You can relax and it will just be my voice here with you.” y/n quirker her head and asked, “You don’t mind that?” Aaron gave her that little toothy grin that y/n loved and she felt fully relaxed and confident again. y/n was going to give herself a hard time that this wasn’t easy and she kept feeling self-conscious, but she reminded herself that this was the first time either of them had done this and it was highly sensitive and just based on that, they were both doing well. y/n took a breath, set the toy down, and repositioned the laptop at the other end of the bed. 

y/n lay back down with an exhilaration of breath and tried to let all of the stress go. Aaron could see her body relax and he replied, “That’s good, sweetheart. You look so pretty with your legs open like that and your pussy so swollen from teasing yourself.” Hotch swallowed before continuing, “y/n, are you ready to start with the toy or do you need some time.” y/n shyly replied, “I’m ready, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and said, “Good girl. Now just picture me there and run the head of your dildo up and down to get it nice and wet.” y/n did as he said and touched the tip to her cunt and moved it up and down. It wasn’t the same as Aaron, but picturing him doing this to her made her say his name aloud and Hotch said, “Yes. that’s it. Just say my name baby.” Aaron made y/n stroke herself a few more times before saying, “Now y/n, just put the tip in for me. I know you’re sensitive, but just push in a little and pull out for me.” He watched as y/n did as he said, his view was beautiful to see between her legs like this and watched y/n’s folds open as she slid the toy inside herself slowly. Aaron bit down on his lip to stop the loud groan from escaping his lips. Hotch told y/n “Now run it back over your clit again y/n, and when you feel ready put it back in as deep as you like. If it was me I’d slide myself deep into you.” Without thinking y/n slid the dildo back to her opening and pushed it all the way in herself. There was a small sting as the toy opened her up, but it felt so good pushing her walls open. 

Aaron started pumping himself again and he knew he was going to cum as y/n started pushing the toy in and out of herself at a steady pace. Aaron matched his hand to her rhythm and said, “Ugh, y/n you’re so hot like this. Just pleasing yourself like that.” The pair worked in tandem for a minute and Hotch couldn’t hold back anymore. “I’m going to finish y/n. Ugh. Hmmm. I…I love you so much. You’re so… good for me.” Aaron moaned as his hand reached his tip again and his cum spilled out the top and over his hand in warm, sticky waves. His hips stuttered and his breathing hitched as he let go. Aaron’s sounds of release had y/n pushing her dildo faster and deeper inside of her. Hotch took a few moments to compose himself and wipe his hand over his thigh. y/n’s noises and the sound of her toy dipping deep in her wetness were louder. Hotch could tell she was engrossed and her body was nearly ready for her. He didn’t want to break her flow, but he decided to say, “y/n, slip your free hand to your clit and circle it until you can’t take it anymore baby.” y/n’s hand slipped between her folds and as soon as the tips of her middle and pointer fingers hit her bundle of nerves her legs started shaking and she let out a breathy, “Aaron.” Hotch nodded and replied in a low voice, “That’s it. Just keep touching yourself. It will just be a moment darling. Pretend my fingers are circling your clit and I’m pressing into you so deep.” Aaron’s words were all it took for y/n to press her slick fingers onto her clit and push the dildo into the base which hit her spot. y/n let out a loud, “Fuck. Agh Fuck Aaron.” Hotch watched her body, covered in a sweat writhe with bliss as her legs closed and pulled the dildo deeper inside her. 

Waves of heat poured over y/n again and again like she was drowning for a moment. After the feelings subsided she relaxed back onto the bed which was slightly wet from her sweat. The cool feeling, though slightly gross did cool her body and mind down. She pulled out her toy and set them on the bed sheets which she would wash in a few minutes. y/n rolled onto her stomach so she could see Aaron’s flushed cheeks and wild eyes after he came down from his orgasm. She smiled at his blissed-out expression. y/n was sure she looked the same with her hair messed up and her stray ends everywhere. She cleared her throat and said, “Well that was something.” Hotch chuckled and said, “It sure was. Are you feeling okay. Was it alright for you?” y/n loved the attention that Aaron gave to her aftercare if not physically then always emotionally checking in. Sometimes when they got absorbed at the moment they went all in losing control of the other and he always checked in with her afterward. Of course, it would be no different over the computer. y/n nodded and said, “It was good. Thank you for suggesting this. It made me realize just how much I miss having you here. I’m excited for the real thing. So I hope you’re ready when you walk in that door whenever you come back tomorrow.” Aaron flashed her a toothy grin and replied, “Thank you for trying something new with me love, and don’t you worry. I’ll be ready.” y/n looked at the sheets and sighed before saying, “I guess I’m going to put these in the wash and take a shower to clean up. What will you do now, Aaron?” Hotch took a moment to think and said “I’ll shower and change. Emily got me some food when the team went out, so I’ll get that and eat and then sleep. But I’ll text you before then. Also, check the freezer, I got your favorite flavor of ice cream. I assumed I’d be there to share it with you, but it’s all yours baby.” y/n giggled at Aaron and how well he knew her. After they had sex she had a penchant for wanting a snack and the fact that he’d pre-bought her a sweet treat warmed her heart. 

They both hung up shortly after this and spent the rest of the night thinking about the other until they went to bed. The next day the jet was fixed and everyone happily piled inside. As Aaron took his seat, y/n’s words rushed through him and his body started to react. He cleared his throat and pulled one of his files over his groin to hide his growing erection. He tipped his head back and couldn’t wait to be home. Together he and y/n would be sated in the most adoring way possible, and he was going to dream about it every minute of the ride home until it happened for real.

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[garciaasfluffypen]

for she is mesmerized

r is very proudly of polish descent. what wanda doesn’t know, is that r can speak fluent polish and wow, is it hot in here or is it just her? 

pairing: wanda maximoff x f!reader word count: 1.9k warnings: use of y/n, female leaning terms of endearment, wanda’s falling in love with you but refuses to admit she has feelings (#emo), mentions of wanda having nightmares, mention of y/n's family dying (no description), small descriptions of looks (reader has wavy hair, no color used), reader and wanda are both 19-20 years old

a/n: hello besties, wanda phase!melly is back (everyone say thank you wandasaura!!!). i'm not used to writing for wanda so her characterization *may* be a little bit off, but i'm excited to try and step into her shoes! also, please don't get mad at me if the polish translations are off i literally speak zero polish but wanted to use it because i'm polish and thought it would be cool.

translations of the polish used will be at the end of the post!

if you’ve ever heard of the avengers, chances are you’ve heard of the hiena. she hailed from poland, and made it very clear she had no intentions of succumbing to silly american traditions (except for halloween and christmas, since pepper made her fall in love with decorating the tree in the lobby of avengers tower and she loved the idea of halloween since she was a kid). there was very little that y/n shared about herself, but if she could tell the avengers about her homeland and how much her traditions meant to her, she’d do it. her polishness was something y/n kept close to her chest considering she moved away from home a few years ago after a big explosion killed her whole family. there were things about y/n that wanda wanted to know like she knew the back of her hand. things that only y/n could tell wanda in the solace of her company, when the rest of the avengers had gone to sleep and it was just them two in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to heat up. 

it was probably why wanda started falling in love with her. 

well, wanda wasn’t sure she’d call it love, per se. the slovakian had been a recluse since she first arrived, especially after watching pietro sacrifice himself for the greater good. her feelings had pretty much been turned off since the moment tony gave her the pin to her room. and while the others didn’t understand her need to be alone sometimes, y/n did. wanda appreciated the space she gave her, but sometimes wished that she could get a little bit closer to her. she wanted someone here she could rely on. while she had that in natasha, she couldn’t find herself ever knocking on her door in the middle of the night when the nightmares plagued her. natasha had made it clear that she would be there for her no matter what, but if she were being honest, she was still a little intimidated by the red head. everyone had their stories, and wanda knew she would learn about them in due time. but the one story she wanted to learn was hers. 

y/n was very different from her hiena counterpart. while her avenger-sona - as wanda liked to call it - was very in your face and i won’t take your bullshit, y/n was almost the opposite. she was very much not confrontational, she would tend to sink away when faced with the opportunity to face a problem in the tower head on. she was quieter than one would think, staying towards the back or opting to stay in with pepper and bruce while everyone else went our for drinks and dancing after big missions. it was enamoring how much she changed as soon as the grey and white suit came off and y/n could be herself. wanda always watched her from a distance, never getting too close for comfort. trying to catch her walking down the halls or watching her relax in the library curled up with a book. the way her wavy hair framed her face in the lowlight of the fireplace always had wanda mesmerized. how could someone with so much pent up anger look so angelic without even trying? 

wanda’s phone buzzed with a reminder that read “weekly avengers meeting, 2pm”, which meant she had to leave the solace of her bedroom. with a sigh, she wrapped her cardigan around her midsection before slipping on her shoes and making her way into the hall towards the elevators. the doors opened on the third floor where all the meeting rooms were, leaving her to shrink further into her cardigan and keep her head down as she walked through the halls and past all the closed office doors. as usual, thor was jaunting on about some crazy story, probably fabricating some of the details to make the girls he was talking to flaunt over him more than they already were. natasha, who was standing a few feet away at the vending machine, simply rolled her eyes and grabbed the bottle of mountain dew from the bottom before continuing down the hall. 

as wanda made her way down the hallway, she passed a room with a singular person in it. you. hiena. she had to force herself not to trip over her own two feet as she peered through the crack in the door, biting her thumb nervously as if you knew she was there. wanda had to force herself to look away from you and step out of the way as you paced the room, fearing that you’d see her and know she was eavesdropping. should she be eavesdropping? not at all. she was still so new to the team, she had a reputation to upkeep. but there was something about hearing you talk in your home language so professionally that had her stopping in her tracks.

it almost reminded her of home.

“przepraszam, nie rozumiem.” you sighed. “nie uważasz, że lepiej byłoby-” you got cut off, sighing angrily. “wiem, co masz na myśli, ale nie do końca się z tobą zgadzam.” another moment of silence. “dobrze. porozmawiam z tony'm.”

you hung up your phone and wanda sprung into action, running away from the door and acting like she didn’t just listen to half of your conversation despite the fact that she understood only one word. she waited a moment before walking down the hallway, pretending that she just happened to pass the room you were in at that very second. 

“wanda!” your polish accent was shining through. “you’ve been settling in okay, i hope?”

“as good as i can,” she started. “it’s um.. a change.” 

you nodded. “i can understand that. it was a lot for me too. you heading to the meeting?”

“yeah uh, yeah.” wanda nodded. 

“can i walk with you? that way you don’t have to go in alone, i know the first avengers meeting can be a bit weird with everyone staring at you.” 

wanda had to stop herself from buckling at the knees.

“that’s very sweet of you.” wanda smiled. “thank you.” 

“of course.” you gave wanda a half smile. “come on, tony doesn’t like it when we’re late.” 

wanda smiled as the two of you started walking down the hallway together. she had to fight every urge in her body to stop her hand from brushing up against yours as you walked towards the meeting room together.

as for you, you could practically feel the admiration radiating off of wanda. you had found it quite cute how she always seemed to be watching you do your mundane little tasks. it might have been the reason you found yourself leaving the comfort of your room more and more lately, trying to catch a glimpse of the younger girl. wanda was young, yet she had been through so much. she was handling it with so much grace and composure, you were surprised you hadn’t heard her break down into tears yet as you walked past her room every night. there was the chance she had magick-ed the walls, yes, but you knew from experience you could only hold things in for so long before the dam burst. it was how you and bruce bonded when you first joined the avengers. he had found you in the midst of a breakdown and from then on became your father figure- more so than tony, who was the one who took you under his wing in the first place. granted, tony was… well, tony. there was only so much you could get out of him before he started acting weird about it.

the meeting went off by without any issues, mainly going over and debriefing the last mission you went on and attempting to tip toe around talking about the battle of sokovia, considering the wound was still pretty fresh for wanda. paperwork was signed, reports were filed and you were ready to get out of there. the weekly meetings were very tiresome, you hated talking over the strategy side of things. you always had an itch to keep moving and doing things when it came to things like this. even in high school, before everything went to shit, you would always look forward to the end of the day so you could go run on the track for a few hours before heading home. bruce had gotten you some fidget toys, saying something about how they’d help, but they only do so much when all you want to do is move around.

the need to be moving all the time was partly why you named yourself after hyenas. not only did your powers give you heightened hearing, the strength you found while training with natasha made you feel as fierce as one of them. the avengers were almost like your pack, even though you could never consider yourself the leader. you had been under tony’s wing for a few years now, and almost considered them family. almost. nothing would or ever could replace the family you had left behind in poland. you talked to them constantly, trying to keep in touch with them as much as you could to make sure they were doing okay after everything that had happened. it pained you to think that they would have been gone if you hadn’t grown into your powers sooner.

“alright, meeting adjourned!" tony’s clap shook you out of your thoughts. “i’ll be in my office if you need me. but don’t need me, actually, i have a lot of things to do today.”

pepper rolled her eyes. “i’ll be readily available if anyone needs anything. you all know you can come into my office whenever.”

“thank you, pepper.” wanda’s voice was quieter than it was earlier.

“of course, sweetheart.”

everyone dispersed relatively quickly, leaving you and wanda alone in the room. thankfully pepper got the memo to close the door behind her, giving you two a barrier from the outside world.

“are you okay?”

“hm? oh um… yeah. i’m…”

“i lost my parents too. a few years ago.”

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. shit happens, you know?” you chuckled dryly. “i guess what i’m trying to say is, if you need anything… my door is always open.”

you could have sworn a smile cracked on wanda’s face. “thank you.”

“it’s okay if you’re not okay, yet.” you looked over to her. “i have to remind myself of that every day. i’m still not okay. the independence i got from my family…” you paused. “i could have saved them if i was there.”

wanda reached over and squeezed your hand sympathetically. “there are a lot of things that we could have done differently. we can’t dwell on it.”

“you sound like natasha.” a small smile formed on your face.

“i might have picked up a little bit from her.” she smiled back. “she’s very smart.”

“that she is.” you glanced at the time on your phone. “do you want some lunch? i made perogis and rosół yesterday.”

“perogis sound good. what is ro…”

“rosół? it's a soup from poland. my mom made it for me and my cousins when we were little. a lot of the time when we were sick, but it’s still good even when you’re well.”

“that sounds good too.”

“then it's settled. lunch time, on the house.” you slapped your knees and stood up. “you coming?”

“let’s do it.”

TRANSLATIONS: przepraszam, nie rozumiem- sorry, i don't understand nie uważasz, że lepiej byłoby- don't you think it would be better to // wiem, co masz na myśli, ale nie do końca się z tobą zgadzam- i know what you mean but i don't fully understand // dobrze. porozmawiam z tony'm - fine. i will talk to tony // rosół- a traditional polish soup very closely aligned with chicken soup! typically made with some sort of meat, broth and other garnishings. *thank you to tynix for letting me know i was using the wrong translation of "fine"!

[shalomniscient]

cw period sex mentioned

arle's definitely the type to fold you in half as she eats you out, so you're practically standing on your hands as she does her thing. she's probably a horrible teaser, arle takes it slow, she devours you for hours straight without letting you cum because she «hadn't been satisfied yet», she's insatiable... oh, chances are she also makes you suck on her fingers covered in your own cum and then kiss her hard, so you share your delicious taste. :зс

i believe she also won't mind eating you out during your period like why would she give a fuck about getting drained in blood? especially if it's your blood. if it helps to soothe your cramps then she's more than eager to shove her tongue inside you.

– milk anon

MILK MY BELOVED I’VE MISSED YOUUUUU 🥺🥺🥺 past day or so i’ve been looking at my inbox and i appreciate all asks and will get around to them soon !! but i look in there and i think “where milk 😔😔😔” like some sickly victorian child… [more nsft utc—]

ANYWAY shjdchdjxkskjdjd head from arle…….. oh she is MEAN with it, absolutely insatiable, forcibly pinning your thighs to the bed as she fucking devours you until her lower face is an absolute mess and you’re so sensitive you could cum simply from her blowing on your slick cunt JKSJXJKJDNSKZKS feel like she’d also be very into marking up your thighs with bites and hickeys and kisses just so the next day when you’re in the shower you’ll be reminded of her

ALSO i would fucking die (/pos) if arle ate me out while i’m bleeding ?? idk why my body cranks the sensitivity up to max during my period but oh my god it would truly not take a lot for her to have me absolute squirming and writhing for dear LIFE LSHDJDJDJJXJSA need her between my legs riGHT NOWWW

[rookiesbookies]

Hi, I really love the greek gods au for the boys, could I request some more hcs for them?

I was lowkey so excited to have an ask! Welcome Anon! I appreciate you! You have braved my inbox and im super excited to have you!

I saw you ask and wrote this as fast as I could with some of the other ideas for them that swim around my brain.

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always, and my inbox is open!

Price

He had Hephaestus forge him a special razor so he could always keep his mustache in check after an incident where he tried to use a human razor and broke it.

He wears human clothes, he does have his godly robes but he prefers to wear something that may be comforting for whatever sacrificial woman he has at a given moment.

Has debated no longer accepting the women as sacrifices

for a long string of time the women were just the horniest ones or the village prostitutes. While they were nice for a week or two he did end up finding them homes elsewhere

Gaz says he fosters women like cats.

Price isnt looking at fostering anymore though. This most recent accidental sacrifice has by far been his favorite. She’s so warm, causes no problem, and isn’t like the last one he got who owned 8 cats.

Price likes cats, just not 8 of them.

He also worries Zeus will try to take his woman

Which is why the woman is hidden and protected by Price’s powerful shield from anyone who tries to creep on her. He doesn’t want his woman threatened by Hera.

Hera already knows he has decided to marry this one, as the goddess of marriage and is probably the most proud of him compared to Zeus’ other bastard children.

Soap

He most often wears his godly armor instead of his robes or human clothes.

The human clothes are really only to go see Price, the robes are really only for relaxing in his house, but the armor is for working.

He has to really just follow around his dad, Ares

He doesn’t know his goddess mom, and Ares wont tell him. Honestly he questions if he’s even Ares because the relationship isnt very father-son, they’re more just like Coworkers

He says his mom is probably Aphrodite but who knows

He spends most of his time with Simon.

Simon is relaxed and comes to work with him sometimes. Usually accidentally causing a cold breeze with his presence.

Soap linda digs the dark robes, he hates how shiny his white ones are.

Definitely hides amongst humans when he gets pent up or frustrated from work.

Gods are so demanding in bed, he’d rather have a human.

With Price looking like he’s going to settle down with his newest sacrifice, Soap thinks about finding his own woman. Price’s helps him cook and clean and look like she’d take it with no problems. Soap kinda wants that now

Ghost

He’s a very antisocial god.

Price has tried to get him to loosen up.

Price has offered him the best of some of the sacrifices that he didn’t get along with.

Simon just hasn’t shifted.

He buddies around with Soap, says its because their work is the most similar.

In reality Soap is the one person he favors the most. Keegan is also up there, but he’s no Johnny.

He never understood why Price took the sacrifices of women. He doesnt bother with the mountain god who gets on his nerves. He loves Gaz but his social battery just dies.

He doesnt see anyone loving that.

Not to mention, he’s the god of Winter. His fingers are cold, his robes are a dark black instead of a beautiful white because he’s from the underworld, and he spends a lot of time down there as well.

He refuses to kidnap a woman how Hades had. Says he had standards and is too attractive for that. Tells people he’ll get a woman when he wants one.

Persephone worries about him. Persephone wants a daughter-in-law who can bring her cold son out of this.

Even Demeter worries, and she loves when he visits. She has no more work when he comes into town, she just wish he didn’t reek of death from the underworld.

Konig

You think Konig was tall at somewhere between 6’7” and 6’10”? Now he’s like 8 feet tall.

He’s probably the loneliest of all of gods, he lives at the top of his mountain (which is kinda like the one of Olympus where it was kinda just a glorified hill) and doesn’t get much company, unlike the 141 group.

He does wear a veil because of his anxiety, being a lonely god makes you self conscious, what if all the other gods are much more handsome?

He wears robes, unlike the 141 group, he doesnt try to blend in with humans so he only has his godly robes.

He doesnt often get sacrifices either, since his altar is at the top of the mountain. Its why he doesnt intervene when the war people come often.

If only there was a way to sacrifice someone to keep him company, he’d never need much more again.

Especially with Atlas holding up the world.

Zeus told him he was born from a single drop of Atlas’ sweat hitting the ground.

Konig has never met Atlas. So he wouldn’t doubt he maybe is secretly a Zeus child? However he doesn’t mind not being a Zeus child. Hera doesn’t give him problems and he likes it that way.

He cooks, he cleans. He’d do anything for someone to spend a bit of time with. He might start scoping out the local village and town again. Last time he was disappointed by all the interesting ones being taken, so he stayed at a distance. But maybe he’d try again.

Keegan

Work is always calling Keegan.

As Thanatos says, “humans wont stop dying, birthing, fucking, or breathing”

Keegan doesn’t disagree.

He has black robes, similar to Ghost’s as they’re both from the underworld. He has spent a great deal of time with Simon as he has to deal with people suffering from hypothermia in the harsh winters.

Simon doesn’t cold shoulder him like most others. Compared to the gods from the underworld, Keegan is quite friendly. He just knows people dont live forever.

Or he hasn’t learned Price can protect humans and living things from death yet.

He has a solid relationship with Thanatos. He cant complain especially next to Soap’s and Price’s situations

He hasn’t ever really spent time with the 141 group because he’s worried he’ll have to get up and leave randomly due to his job.

He also doesn’t have human clothes like they do. He often wonders where they came from.

His home is in the underworld, so he worries about a human living there if he ever were to take on a bride.

Maybe he’d find a nice goddess like Hades did. But Price makes humans seem so nice.

He just worries he wouldnt be home enough to care for his human or he’d have to take his human to work to make sure she got enough vitamin D… i mean he can always gives you vitamin D but it’s a different vitamin.

He’s also worried about touching a human because what if he accidentally kills them or something ridiculous like that?

Too many risks. Maybe. Unless someone is brave enough to prove them wrong.

Gaz

He saves a lot of dropped babies from serious damage. He never shows himself, always stays invisible to the human eye, but he saves a lot of babies.

Also saves a lot of kids. Toddlers and young children fall quite a bit.

He has the whitest and cleanest and shiniest robes btw

But yeah he loves saving kids. Especially when he can show his form because adults don’t believe kids anyway.

Especially if they say they were saved by a god.

He also saves quite a bit of animals. Like bird eggs.

He just prefers saving kids.

He thinks they’re really darn cute.

Wouldn’t mind a few of his own

Doesnt help Hermes keeps teasing him though.

Hermes never misses a chance to remind him he came from him jerking it on a cloud and letting it fall to the earth.

Hermes thinks its really funny.

Gaz wouldn’t hate a partner. Nymph, Human, or Goddess.

He’s taken a couple of them to bed and has to say Human is his favorite.

Did he mention he saves a lot of kids?

Would you, maybe, like to save his, perhaps, for like 9 months?

Krueger

Sebastian makes Konig’s world a bit less lonely? However isn’t the most wonderful company.

Definitely defiles the virgins of random towns near by.

Has fun telling them he’s a god and was sent by their towns patron to defile them

Lowkey Hera had to ask if he was one of Zeus

He was actually carved from clay and given gifts from gods

Artemis made him a skilled hunter, Hades made him a quick thinker, Athena gave him tactical knowledge, Ares gave him strength, Apollo gave him impermeable skin, Zeus gave him a big dick, Eris gave him wild anger

The usual

His job is not terribly demanding and has quite a bit of free time to spend with Konig

He has big dark armor and a giant axe. Definitely has a lot of fun with it

his dream is to get a temple of his own and his own priestesses who would do his bidding and pray to him their city doesnt go on a hit list for the gods

He also dreams to get a virgin sacrificed to him.

He isnt greedy like Price when it comes to women, he just wants one. One is all he would need.

He’d never need to go around defiling random virgins anymore, he’d just get to have his virgin at home.

He’d love to have his own servant. He’d treat her well he promises. He’d love an embarrassed virgin for himself.

[quietblueriver]

Because I couldn’t get this out of my mind, some Southern Gothic fluff. Very minor spoilers for last night’s ep but this is almost entirely just them being soft witches in love.

-

Her hair is a tangled mess. It has been since that shitshow with the dead Paragon’s Call fuckers, but she’s had other things to worry about—ghost pirates and FCG and parleys and, if she’s honest, her girlfriend’s tits, which had caused her brain to stop in its tracks at least half a dozen times since Laudna had declared that she was “bringing out the girls” to help their cause.

Now, though, after an hour-long game of rollies she escaped only because Fearne flirted her way into the bony lap of her opponent, she’s staring at the results of Laudna’s attempt at braiding.

Her reflection winces back at her as she tries to untangle what she can with her fingers, turning her head side to side to take stock of the damage. She’s gonna need a comb.

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck it.”

“Alright, darling?”

Imogen looks up from where she has been wrestling with a knot to find Laudna in the doorway, crooked, concerned smile on her face as she hefts a small stack of blankets that they must have managed to scrounge up between the ship and their stock in the hole. Her top is still arranged for ghostly seduction, and Imogen lets her eyes wander appreciatively. Again.

She finds suddenly that she could give a shit about the comb stuck in her hair and pulls it, and a chunk of purple she doesn’t let herself think too hard about out (she’s been bald for fuck’s sake; what’s a little hair loss for love?), tossing them onto the small barrel by the mirror.

Three steps and she’s taking the blankets and cupping Laudna’s sharp jaw, kissing her softly in greeting. Laudna’s little sigh, the small, surprised noise she makes almost every time they do this, makes Imogen’s stomach flip as it always does, and she leans into the kiss, deepens it and then pulls away, drawing a whine.

“Hey there.” She lifts the pile of blankets. “Looks like y’all found some.”

“Yes.” Laudna clears her throat, face that deeper shade of purple Imogen tries to bring out as often as she can, and Imogen smirks, smug as can be, until Laudna rolls her eyes at her. “Oh, hush.”

“Don’t know what you mean, Laud. I didn’t say a word.”

“Your face said plenty, thank you.”

Imogen grins and kisses her again before turning to toss the blankets onto the bed.

“Can’t say I’m sorry ‘bout it.” She turns back and lets her eyes trail purposefully down Laudna’s neck, stopping at her chest and staying there. “It’s been real hard to focus today. Nice knowin’ I can fluster you a little, too.”

Laudna laughs disbelievingly, and Imogen raises an eyebrow.

“You sayin’ you wouldn’t have trouble focusin’ if I…” She undoes a button and Laudna’s dark eyes focus in on her fingers. “What did you call it? Bring out the girls?”

Her eyes are still pinned to Imogen’s hands, and she undoes another button, because she likes it when Laudna looks at her like this, wants Laudna to look at her like this, and there’s no reason now to pretend she doesn’t.

She offers a gloating, teasing, “Laud?”

Black eyes snap up, and she smirks again when Laudna pouts at her even as she flushes that pretty color. “Yes, well. There’s a bit more there to admire, dear, isn’t there?”

She’s working on this. On Laudna moving beyond a blustering veneer of self-confidence and learning to see herself at least a little bit like Imogen sees her. It’s not exactly a hardship, letting Laudna know how beautiful she is. The chiding voice inside her head had already shifted over the months before the market in Jrusar, moving from “she’s your best friend, Imogen” to “don’t ruin this, Imogen” to “it’s not the time, Imogen.” (She doesn’t think about the days when the voice had been nothing but a raging, screaming thing. She’d answered its call. She’d gotten her back.) Now, the voice says only, “Show her.”

So she does. She’s back in Laudna’s space quickly, hands gentle but sure as they make a home on her waist, and she catches her eye seriously, holds it.

“No, baby, I don’t think there is.” When Laudna’s smile wobbles into place, the quirk of her lips small but genuine, Imogen flexes her fingers and presses her own lips to the skin of Laudna’s neck, letting her tongue tease skin as she says, “Wanna show you how much I admire you later, if you want.” She pulls back with a graze of her teeth, and Laudna brings her hands around Imogen’s shoulders and kisses her with purpose, mumbling, “Yes, please,” as she winds her hands up into Imogen’s hair.

It’s then that she remembers the state of it, hissing as Laudna’s fingers get caught in a tangle. They’re gone instantly, as is the heat of the moment, Laudna’s cool palms cupping her cheeks as she apologizes and checks for injury, eyes roaming over Imogen’s scalp.

“I’m sorry, darling. Are you…” Fingers move back to her hair then, gently exploring, and Laudna bites her lip. “Oh dear. It’s my fault.”

Imogen doesn’t shake her head, doesn’t want to dislodge the hand still on her cheek, but she says, dismissive, “Nah. Just a long day. Quick comb and I’ll be right as rain.”

The purse of her lips tells Imogen exactly what she thinks of that explanation.

“It really is no big deal.” She turns her head to kiss gray skin, the smallest tang of ichor on her lips as she licks them distractedly and fights the urge to go back for more.

“Can I…would you mind if I…” Gentle black nails trace the skin of her temple as she tucks a lock of hair, blessedly free of knots, behind her ear. “Would you like help brushing it out?” She adds hastily, before Imogen even has a chance to breathe out her obvious and immediate yes. “I understand if not. After all, it is my fault it’s like this in the first place.” Her mouth is pulled tight at the corners, eyes squinted in worry, and Imogen places a kiss at the corner of one, stretched onto her toes to reach.

“Thanks. That would be great.”

Laudna is, of course, gentler than Imogen would ever be with herself. She produces some herbs from somewhere, busying herself at the basin before she returns. They’re far enough away from the others that she doesn’t think much before she takes off the circlet, sitting it gently on the table near the bed and sighing into the sound of Laudna’s thoughts, the musical hum of them.

“I could work around it, darling.”

It’s nice, hearing you. If you don’t mind.

Laudna’s smile reaches across her face, delighted, and Imogen feels it, stomach flipping at the surge of affection. I love having you here. Stay as long as you’d like.

She kisses her then, chaste with the barrier of their smiles, before situating herself on the floor. As it turns out, it’s too fucking cold, so Imogen reclines, propped between Laudna’s knees on the bed, which is much better anyway. The angle is a little awkward but they mess around with a few pillows and blankets until it works, and then Laudna’s hands are in her hair, gently working whatever she made through tangles.

“Smells good.”

Laudna hums, pleased. “Rosemary.”

“Mmm.”

She gets lost for a bit, in the feel of Laudna’s fingers on her scalp, the rhythm of the brush, the lilt of her thoughts. She lets them wash over her, beautiful but fleeting, and avoids processing details as much as she can.

Laudna is so gentle with Imogen, whispered apologies with every knot, occasional internal rebukes loud enough to break through the general flow of her thoughts. Imogen soothes those as best she can, stopping the brush to plant a kiss on Laudna’s wrist, a none of that, darlin’ paired with the press of her lips. It seems to work, mostly, thoughts of gratitude that Imogen doesn’t deserve but doesn’t challenge for the moment replacing the self-criticism.

Imogen wonders, not for the first time, what Laudna’s life would’ve been like if she’d been given all the love she deserved right from the start. She thinks of a little girl who never learned to braid, lonely and strange and kinder than anyone deserved. Beautiful and familiar.

Imogen can’t help her, but she can love Laudna. She will love Laudna.

“You know,” she says, eyes closed and as casually as she can, “I could teach you how to braid. If you’re interested.”

The rhythm of the brush stops just for a moment before it continues, Laudna’s voice, small, answering, “I think I’d like that. Thank you.”

She reaches back for a hand, kisses knuckles and fingertips until Laudna is giggling and then she presses her mouth to palm, to deep purple veins on a fragile and perfect inner wrist.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” she says as she tilts her head back to catch deep black eyes. “I think you’ll look real pretty with a braid.”

Laudna blushes, catches Imogen’s fingers and brings them to her own mouth, drops a cool kiss to the back of her hand. Imogen closes her eyes again as Laudna resumes brushing and relaxes into the bed beneath her.

[roronoagem]

kinda like how you did coming out as gender fluid can you do one for coming out as trans???

characters: monster trio + nami + portgas d. ace + trafalgar d. water law

content warning: trans!reader (works for ftm & mtf as i’m not specific), general fluff + not proofread.

a/n: hello omg i’m so sorry (again), i hope you’ll like what i came up with >_< i didn’t specify if it was ftm / mtf also because you didn’t tell me . . ? so yeah it’s generic. i also decided to write for few of the strawhats, i hope your favs are there *fingers crossed* . . uuuh ENJOY <3

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘.

luffy would be super supportive, using your new pronouns and name if you changed it.

if you decided to change or not, either way he would be there for you.

if he catches someone misgendering you on purpose / using your deadname / make fun of you, trust me they’re gone.

“so.. you still accept me?”

luffy would tilt his head to the side, confused by such doubt. “course i do! you’re my nakama and my lover!”

GETS A TRANS PIN AND PUT IT ON HIS SHIRT.

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎.

you’d never catch this man slipping on your new name and pronouns.

silently grateful you trusted him enough to come out to him and would support you in any possible way.

lowkey threaten people who misgender you or keep using your deadname.

“thank you for trusting me. i’ll always love you, keep that in mind.”

and he makes sure to remind you this every single day.

doesn’t mind if you change or not, he loves you anyway !!

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈.

“i’m so happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me!” while hugging you really tight.

#1 supportive gf

hits / makes anyone pay when she catches them disrespecting you.

would remind you that she loves you and that you’re amazing.

i also think she would repeat that that you’re valid even if you decide to not change, if you’re struggling a bit that is.

and if you do decide to change, she’d be there for you at all times!

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈.

he feels so happy you trusted him and came out to him, being your true self.

and trust me he’s very supportive.

makes sure everyone around you respects you & uses your new pronouns / name.

would support you either way if you want to change or not.

there to constantly remind you that you’re amazing and he loves you for who you are, not your body !!

𝐀𝐂𝐄.

first of all, he’d feel his heart throb because you trusted him and showed him your true self.

he’s super supportive, starts using the right pronouns instantly and all.

“if someone mocks you, just tell me and they’re gone.”

he’s there to remind everyone to use the right pronouns and name.

gets trans pin and put it on his hat. 🙁

𝐋𝐀𝐖.

“thank you for trusting me, i appreciate it. i can inform the others if you want and… well, if you want to change just let me know.”

i genuinely believe he’d be the one there to help in that matter, if you want to change.

would probably cry (/pos) if you go to him.

makes sure no one uses your deadname / old pronouns and that you’re comfortable.

he too would get a trans pin >_< .

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pugnacious 1

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, arranged marriage, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: the day has come to do your duty as a noble daughter.

This is part of the Three Sisters for Three Misters AU (this reader is know as Wren)

Characters: James Conrad

Note: We've rounded out the trifecta.

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at the empty stable and growl. White hot rage ripples through then subsides as you let out a long breath. The days of letting your mother rile you are behind you. You rescinded her power over you at your sweet sixteen when she made you wear that ridiculous clown suit. No longer will her victories needle deeper than the twitch of a cheek. 

You flick your lashes up and twist on your heel. Suzanna gives you a guilty look as you pass. It isn’t the groomer’s fault. Your mother does as she wishes, so much so that she can’t help make others align with whatever those wishes may be. Well, you’ve agreed to do your duty, she’ll have nothing else out of you. 

The furrow in your brow eases and you put on a smile. The one you’ve trained since you were a girl. It’s rather convincing. Even she buys it sometimes. Though, since you’ve grown into adulthood, your mother does seem rather wary of you. Good. 

You roll your shoulders to free yourself of the last of the tension and breeze inside. The furor of the evening’s preparations greets you in a cacophony. You see Nancy frantically pulling lacy table mats from the closet and Annalise thunders demands in the kitchen. 

Before you can reach the stairs, your mother appears like a witch in one of those childhood movies she forbade you to watch. Well, all your friends had them and no matter what she thinks, she cannot command all. You keep your lips curved and bat your eyes innocently. 

“There you are,” she proclaims and gives a sniff, “and you don’t smell like a barn.” 

“Mother,” you retort, “I am on my best behaviour. Do you need to rub the salt in?” 

“I am only making sure you are on schedule. Tonight is very important.” 

“Oh, wow, I had no idea it was,” you say dryly. 

“Get it out now,” she snaps. “Our guest will not appreciate that lip, nor will I stand to be embarrassed.” 

“Motherrrr,” you draw out the word, “you needn’t worry for me. I gave my word and despite my lineage, I do know how to keep it.” You tilt your head wryly, “but you will have Lottie back in the stable tomorrow or you might question my integrity.” 

She frowns, “I only sent her out to be shoed. Don’t be so paranoid.” 

“I know what you’ve done, mother. She’s my horse.” 

“You are not a girl anymore,” she girds. 

“Don’t I know it,” you sidestep her and proceed upstairs. 

To describe your mother cannot be done in a single word. You have more than a dictionary’s worth for her; overbearing, conniving, heartless, soulless... Yes, well, you have faith that whoever she’d bartered you to cannot be worse. You don’t know that there’s any in existence who could even match her. 

“Wait,” she calls after you, “have you seen your sister?” 

You don’t ask which one. Either of them are prone to disappearing. Better they do than you. You would be certain not to be found. 

As you come down the hall, your name wrenches you back like a leash. Your father keeps his voice low as he waves you closer. You turn and stride toward his office door. He can be as stubborn as your mother but he has his moments of softness. At least, for you. You think it’s only his natural obliviousness that makes him seem unkind. 

“Eh, how’s the Queen of Darkness then? Has she sacrificed a maid yet?” He whispers. 

“Father, really? Even if she heard you, she can’t be bothered,” you shake your head. “She has horse-napped Lottie so that I can have no joy on this special day.” 

“Oh, lovie, don’t be so pessimistic. It is about time. You need a husband. Eh, I need you to have a husband. You and the others. I count myself a lucky man that I’ve found you such fine suitors and you should measure your own fortune the same,” he tuts. “There aren’t many true gentlemen left.” 

You hold back a sigh. He can be amiable but he still rules over you all with the same iron. As you are to your mother, you are still merely a title bearer. Your duty comes before anything else. Yes, well, your husband will have his duty too, won’t he? 

“Right, well, I don’t need another lecture. So if you want me to thank you on my knees for a stranger, I will not do so. I am already marrying him, that should be enough gratitude,” you insist. 

“Oh, daughter, don’t be so hard. Sometimes...” he hesitates, “yes, sometimes you do remind me of your mother.” 

“Rude,” you snip back. “Father, I shall see you at supper.” 

You turn and storm down the hall. You slam your door. You’re already over today. But you can’t be. This isn’t just about you, it’s about your sisters. Chicky, your youngest, will be fine. She has her way of just getting by, but Wren... she’s another matter. You’re more nervous about them than yourself. 

You get out of your riding clothes. It’s as if your mother is setting you up. As if she wants you to act out. She does love drama. Even when you’re going along with her machinations, she does her best to ruin them.  

You pull on your red robe and go to your en suite bathroom to start your routine. Cleanse, moisturise, tone, makeup, hair... You leave your lips bare, not trusting yourself not to lick it off. At least your mother can be thankful that you enjoy getting all prettied up. As you set away your makeup, you hear a door in the hallway. 

It’s safe to assume it’s your missing sister. It’s closer than Wren’s door, it must be Chicky. You peek out before you emerge and go to knock on her door. You enter and give her wry look. She has paint behind her ear. You won’t mention it. 

“There you are. Mother’s been squawking all day.” You intone. 

She glances at you in the mirror and shrugs. You give her a pointed look. Playful, not serious. You laugh and frame your hips with your hands. 

“Please, let me do your hair so she doesn’t tear it out.” You insist. It’s as much a favour to her as yourself. You need to keep busy. 

“If you want to,” she gives another shrug. She’s not as particular as you about her hair. 

You near her and eye the dress hanging from the vanity drawer. Pink, short, and fluttery. “Oh, that dress is so you.” 

You touch the neckline and play with one of the facsimile petals. She takes her blush stick and blots her cheeks.  

“What about Wren? She’s usually much more elusive than me,” Chicky asks. 

“Oh, yes. She took her nose out of her book for five seconds to get the witch off her back.” You recall your other sister’s dull stare as she faced your mother at her bedroom door. You take a comb and start at the ends of Chicky’s hair. “Even after a lifetime, she can’t really accept that this is what we were born for. I worry for her but she locked her door.” 

“And probably climbed out the window,” your sister chortles. She’s probably right. 

“Always the most clever of us.” You agree and focus on your task before you find your voice again, “are you nervous?” 

She looks at you in the mirror. Her shoulders rise once more. She tries to act like she doesn’t care but you know she does. You do too. 

“Strangers, aren’t they? But mother and father were too,” she says. 

“Mm, and look how well that turned out. I don’t think they’ve been alone together since right before you were born,” you hiss. 

“Likely not... but mother says the men are well-bred. Polite.” 

“Frigid,” you smirk. You know exactly how gentlemen are. And you’ve gathered that these men are older and established. Will they even have the energy? They are looking for status, not lovers. “You must read between the lines. That is how society talks. They never say the truth, the toe around it until it kicks you in the teeth.” You slide a pin into her hair, “I’ve asked around but people never talk about interesting things, do they?” 

“No, not really,” she pouts then stretches her lips in a goofy smile. “Am I pretty, sister? Will mother approve of me?” 

You laugh and shake your head, “oh, it will be quite the night, won’t it?” 

“Don’t act as if I will be the only menace. And I’m not so worried about mother, as she shouldn’t be of us. We have to impress these men, not her, right?” She argues. 

“Impress? Well, I shouldn’t need to try for that. He can win me over. Tradition and all,” you retort. You aren’t looking to endear a husband, he’s already been snared. You will be what he needs. A wife in title, not in your heart. You won’t delude yourself to think society has any room for love. 

You give a start as the door clicks. You look back as Wren enters and pushes herself to the door. Her eyes are wide and her hair is just as manic. She never has been able to rein in her strands. Her mane seems to reflect the stubbornness she carries so quietly. 

“I saw one,” she says. 

“Saw one?” Chicky drones. 

Wren hushes you and scurries closer. There’s a leaf in her hair and you can smell the oak on her. She’s been in her tree again. He glasses stick of her tresses crookedly and her book threatens to slip from under her elbow. 

“He’s tall. Blond. Look!” She gestures to the window. 

You look to your other sister and she stands. You both approach the window and peer through. Wren hovers behind. 

“Oh, wow, isn’t that typical? Aan antique car. Well, Wren, you should hope he’s yours then. By the looks of it, he’ll spend more time with that beast than you.” You scoffs dryly. 

Wren whimpers as you hear her fussing. You can’t imagine tonight will be easy for her. She doesn’t do well with strangers. And by her expression, they might assume she’s annoyed rather than anxious. If only they knew how lovely your sister truly is. 

“Mm, he has manners. He is chatting rather intently with Reginald.” You remark. 

“Yes, Reginald can be rather chatty,” Wren grumbles. Well, she may be a bit grumpy. 

“Well, Kes,” Chicky faces you, “you said you asked around. What did you hear?” 

“Like I said, gossip is rarely useful,” you sigh. Marcianna offered you crumbs and you don’t have the patience for all those other gabbers. “Mine, Conrad... he’s not much history in ‘society’,” you nearly spit the last word. “From what I’ve gathered, he comes from a well to do family. I heard more of his brother than him. Frustratingly mysterious.”  

You cross your arms and sit, “then there’s Laufeyson, Wren’s match. He does have quite the reputation. A tricky man. I’m not entirely sure why mother and father chose him but no offense, Wrenny, you are a middle child.”  

You don’t mention all that you heard of him. To think your mother chose him for her. Well, it isn’t a match you would have made but if need be, you can set more than your own betrothed straight. 

“Mm, I’d say better than no one but no one sounds rather nice,” Wren bemoans.  

Chicky laughs, amused by the comment. You can’t help by empathise. Wren is right; no one does sound lovely.  

“And me?” Chicky asks.  

 “Pine. Proper gentleman by my measure. Never a toe out of line. No mystery, no scandal. He sounds like he was created in a factory.”  

“Boring?” She sniffs.  

“I wouldn’t expect any of them to be more than,” you check your nails. “But we should try to pretend they are interesting.”  

“Forever,” Chicky adds.  

“Forever...” You echo. “So is our lot, yes? We must make the best of it. Get through tonight, then the wedding, and when all is said and done, we can still be us.” You hook one leg over the other and lean on your hands. “I’ll take Lottie with me. She’s a loyal stead and I’ll need something fun to ride.”   

You wink and Chicky giggles as your implication. Wren whines and sways at the very thought. Oh, how will she ever face her wedding night?  

“Wren, you can take all your books and add a thousand more to your shelves. You could build yourself a castle and lock yourself away to read forever,” you try to comfort her, “and Chicky,” you turn to your other sister, “you can just be you. Go out shooting or dancing or shopping. As long as our duty is met, we will be free. Truly. No more mother, no more father. We will laugh in their faces and say ‘no’.”  

“I hope you’re right,” Chicky refocuses through the window. You haven’t the heart to tell her that the man below is hers. She’ll find out in due course.   

“I do too,” You say. “Think of it this way, we want out of this house. This is how we get out. Then we have our own titles, our own rights, and our husbands, well, they can have their own hobbies.”  

Chicky turns back completely and nods. She returns to the vanity. She’s in a rare state of apprehension. You don’t dare mention it. 

You put your attention to your other sister and lighten your tone, “So, Wren, you look ready to meet your beloved.” 

She winces and you almost feel bad for the joke. No, you have to be strong. For both of them. And you will get through this together. Husbands be damned.