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prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue · 3 months ago

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I WILL SURVIVE BUT NEVER RECOVER

summary :batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.

part 1 of die young

in other universe

before you read !!

AWARNESS - info

- since 2015 , school shootings in the U.S has significantly skyrocketed in comparison to every other decade .

- according to the NCES (National Centre for Education Statistics) during 2020 - 21, there was 93 school shootings , resulting in 43 deaths & 50 injuries.

- there was 332 shooting incidents that occurred in k-12 schools in 2024 , this incident resulted in 267 injuries & fatalities.

- active school shootings typically occur in high-school - about 61.8% .

- many parents grieve the lost of their child , many never recover and end up living their life miserably . This is encouragement to help stop school shootings to prevent innocent children from dying.

Bruce stands in the manor's foyer , his face is maimed with bruises and has grime stuck on it . One hand clutches his bat mask tightly as he stared into the darkness encompassing the long hallway before him. His chest plate is battered , its bat symbol is no longer recognizable , his once pristine cape is now tattered with bullet holes .

He looks so dead - and he feels it , he feels the emptiness. He alone went on patrol tonight , his children did argue - offered to join him tonight, but he declined, and some stubbornly disregarded his declination and attempted to go anyways, but Lord thank Alfred stopping them. Only the two of them understood why he had to go tonight.

They shouldn't have to see how brutal he was tonight - none of them should - none of them should have to witness how he practically almost brutalized some goon for pointing a gun at him - that the sight of that oh so familiar gun brought back memories of him cradling your mutilated body that dreaded day. Or the way he threw rational to the wind as he chased after two face like a mad man for an hour only to dump him in front of blackgate like the scum he was.

He trudges through the darkness of the manor - embraces the quietness and darkness as he slums his tired body against the dining table where his cold dinner sat. He feels bile rising in his throat when he realizes it was placed in front of the same chair you used to always eat in.

He falls to his knees - tears brimming as the memory of your happy small self feeding your plushy a cookie in that same seat. He can practically hear your giggles and the familiar sound of the chair wobbling as you swung your little feet back and forth.

He blinks - and the memory is gone - you are gone - no longer in front of him. He shuffles back on his feet frantically, and like a scared man, he runs away because that was too real - it felt too real - it felt like you were there - like you were home again.

He stumbles up the stairs, and his feet carry him down a familiar route . Even now - when his body is in overdrive - in a panic state - his body still takes him back to you . He stands in front of a familiar door . Yours.

It's lower half is covered in sparkly stickers and a doodled portrait of three stick figures holding hands sticks out. His hands practically shake violently as he pushes open your door .

You stand in front of him , you're wearing the same dress from that day , your hair is styled in the same pig tails he put them and your pink backpack is slung on your shoulders the same way Alfred dropped you off in. You look at him and beamed, " Hello daddy !!" You exclaimed as you embraced his legs - too short to reach his waist.

Bruce doesn't hesitate to crouch down and hug you back , arms encasing you like the precious jewel you were . He feels you snuggling into him like you always did . He pulls you in tighter, and the feel of your familiar warmth and the scent of vanilla perfume fills him.

His heart is beating a mile a minute as he savors everything , " Sweetheart, you're okay !" He exclaims happily as he observes you . He has to force his head to crane back to look at your snuggled up form. Your cute little self turns to him confused , " Why won't I be okay, Daddy ?" You questioned with a tilt of a head as you looked at him.

Bruce blinks and you were gone . He looks down at himself to only reveal his exhausted body slumped to the floor - the same way he did that night when he grieved that night and it's then he starts to choke on his sobs.

How cruel- how dare life torture him like this ? He chokes on his tears even more as he looks around your room - frantically as if to prove to himself you're still here and that was just a nightmare .

It's empty- despite all the stuffed animals , the scattered toys strewn about , the walls filled with your favorite books to pictures and drawings. There , in the middle of your room laid an empty bed - deprived of the usual light of your nightlight you always put on before bed and most important- deprived of your sleepy figure cuddling the mountain of plushies.

Everything is still left untouched since that day they lost you . He feels a drop in the pit of his stomach as he does a once over of your room - you aren't here yet that felt too real - you sounded to real - too alive to be gone .

He forces himself to stand and close your room - he knows Alfred would have his head if he didn't - the old man considers your room as a place of sanctuary - something that had to be preserved and Bruce would never argue with him because he to believes it as sacred himself.

He forces himself to trudge up the hallway towards his own room and open his door . He looks down the hallway one more time - hoping to see you come running after him with your plushy in hand to ask him to read to you or maybe tuck you in.

He waited for a long time, and he was only greeted by cold looming darkness. He wipes away any more brimming tears before he enters his room - only once the door is shut and he collapses on his bed does he allow himself to succumb to his emptiness.

The golden rays adorned the manor angelically , everyone is wide awake and present at the table . Alfred distracts himself from the temptation to drown himself in his own misery with alcohol but chooses to fuss over the children instead.

He feels numb - he feels angry - he feels everything but nothing at the same time . He masks his irritation by choosing to focus on scrambling Bruce's eggs. He won't tell anyone - not even Bruce that the sight of cold dinner sat in front of the chair you used to sit in every morning and evening to eat irked him -

It felt like a sick cruel joke from God as he mocked - no egged him of your absence. He would never tell anyone how he stood there - eyeing that dinner and that chair as he cried his eyes out before he mustered whatever courage he had left to pick it up and throw it promptly in the trash.

He supposed one of the kids innocently placed it there for Bruce last night - something you would definitely do - because you were just that kind and sweet of a person.

Alfred forces himself to breathe when the smell of burnt toast meets his nostrils. He regains his composure and swiftly throws the toast in the bin before restarting.

Bruce enters the dining room - face a bit somber and dull. Bruce has to internally pray that none of his children questions why - he doesn't know what he'd do if he was to be subjected to another interrogation. He slips into his seat , making sure not to eye the familiar , empty seat next to him because he knows if he only does he'd simply break down.

His children immediately filled the sullen air with their happy chatter. He watches in silence, as Jason and Damian fight one another over waffles , Dick and Tim are discussing a movie they want to see , the girls are talking with Duke about some drama with a classmate they knew apparently.

Alfred stands behind him and set his breakfast , "Morning Master Bruce" he greets. " Morning Alfred," he greets back . Bruce detects the lack of 'good' in Alfred's greeting - though Bruce understands why since if it truly were a good morning you would of been here with them.

" Hey B do you want to join us in a shooting range this evening ?" Dick asks - breaking the silence. Bruce felt his world still around him - in the background - you can hear the sound of clattering utensils as Alfred drops whatever he was doing at the sudden inquiry.

Bruce feels himself hyperventilating at the thought of any of his children near that devilish thing called a gun. He's lost too damn much to it - so for the sheer audacity of Dick to suggest this - feels like a cruel joke. He feels the world consuming him as he merely glances at the empty chair next to him and there - a memory of you eating pancakes while singing replays in front of him . This one was the last morning - the last breakfast him and Alfred had with you.

You look at him and flash your innocent smile at him , " Do you want a pancake papa ?" You ask as you held up a pancake towards him. Bruce has to force his eyes to blink before he loses himself and starts to break down.

Your figure disappears once again and then Bruce turns towards Dick , face void of any emotion. Seeing you once again only finalizes his decision , " No and you aren't going there" Bruce says firmly. Everyone at the table stills and looks at him - defiantly. " What the fuck Bruce it's a shooting range it's not that serious" Jason says . " Exactly father if you don't want to join us just say so" Damian says matter of fact.

Bruce feels his blood freeze. " I said no, and not one of you is going " he says firmly - his eyes narrowing as he stares at each one of them. Everyone looks at him - an unspoken defiance and challenge.

" Fine be that way B ," Dick says - fustrated that Bruce had to shut down a family bonding moment. Alfred approaches the table , his face is void of any emotion as well, eyes distant as he pours everyone a class of marmalade .

" I advise you listen to your father young masters" he says finally. Jason practically rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back , " Not when he's being such an asshole Alfred" Jason quips before leaving. The girls and Duke follow him suit - disappointed at the outcome of this morning as they too were excited to go let off steam .

Tim rocks back in his chair before shaking his head in disappointment as he stares at Bruce, him and Dick finally got up and left, storming off elsewhere. Damian was the last to leave - ensuring he glared at his father . Bruce met his glare- equally defiant as he watches his son storm pass him - not before shoving the empty chair back into the table.

Alfred immediately launches forward to brace the chair's impact against the table . Bruce sits there , head hung low as he stared at your chair longingly.

" Oh sweet heart daddy doesn't know what to do anymore "

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thank you for reading hope you have a good day!

Taglist :@itsmossy @sugarrush-blush @shirp-collector-of-fixations @anteroz @cxcilla @shynerdtriumph @amber-content @azulesworld

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tqlepatia · 1 month ago

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— I'LL BE YOUR PROTECTOR.

MOM! SEVIKA × MOM! READER. —

Notes: pure fluff! Sevika and you being the best mother possible to your little boy ᵎᵎ, decided to write it since I never read one with sevika being a boy mom ( I know she's totally girl mom!)

𓂃۶ৎ ● The first time you hold him, you forget every pain that brought you here. His fingers curl around yours like they’ve always known the shape of you. Sevika’s breath catches in her throat as she leans over your shoulder, silent, reverent.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You sit in the nursery late at night with the baby sleeping on your chest, while Sevika leans against the doorway, quietly protective. She doesn’t say much but you feel her watching over you both like a sentry.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You and Sevika take turns at the midnight feedings. On her nights, you wake up to soft murmurs through the baby monitor and lullabies in a language that you don't understand one word.

𓂃۶ৎ ● Your boy refuses to nap unless he’s pressed against one of you. You joke that he was born clingy, Sevika calls it loyalty. Either way, he sleeps best wrapped in your arms.

𓂃۶ৎ ● Bath time is chaos. You hold him steady while Sevika gently washes his hair. He splashes water everywhere, and she grumbles, but never once stops smiling. You both end up soaked and laughing.

𓂃۶ৎ ● When he’s teething, he cries endlessly. You pace the floor with him pressed to your shoulder, humming lullabies you didn’t know you remembered. Sevika slips into the room with warm bottles and sits beside you until he settles.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You cry on his first birthday—not because of the cake or the photos, but because of how far you've come. Sevika wraps her arm around your waist and tells you, quietly, that she’s never been prouder of anyone in her life.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You both fall asleep on the couch, the baby nestled between you. He snores softly, one hand on your chest, the other holding onto Sevika’s shirt. It’s the most peaceful moment of your life.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He throws a tantrum at the grocery store. You kneel down, matching your voice to his volume, coaxing him to breathe. Sevika stands behind you, arms crossed, but lets you take the lead—knowing he needs your calm more than her fire.

𓂃۶ৎ ● One morning, he asks you why he doesn’t have a dad. You look at Sevika, who nods softly. You crouch beside him and say, “Because you have two moms who love you more than anything. That’s better than just one dad” He shrugs and goes back to coloring.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He wants to look like a superhero and cries when his hair won’t sit the same. You try to explain it gently, brushing it as best you can. Sevika steps in runs a comb through with a teasing grin, and suddenly he declares he looks perfect.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He starts drawing stick figure families, always with two tall moms and one smiley kid. You put them on the fridge. Sevika secretly keeps one folded in her wallet.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You bake cookies with him on Sundays. He makes a mess, flour everywhere. Sevika walks in, sighs, and wordlessly joins in. Three hours later, the kitchen’s a disaster.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He starts sleeping with the lights off, but only if you’re the one to tuck him in. Sevika reads the bedtime story, but he reaches for your hand as he drifts off.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He paints your face with finger paint. Sevika laughs so hard she chokes on her drink. You chase him around the living room while Sevika captures it all on an old camera you didn’t know she knew how to use.

𓂃۶ৎ ● The three of you lie under a blanket fort one stormy night. Rain on the windows, his tiny body between you, flashlight stories casting shadows on the walls. He says, “This is my favorite place ! ”

𓂃۶ৎ ● He loses his first tooth at the breakfast table. You panic a little; Sevika just grins and wraps it in a napkin. That night, you both sneak a little coin under his pillow.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He builds a pillow fort so big it takes up half the living room. You both crawl in with him, bring snacks, and let the day pass in soft laughter and pretend adventures.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He wants to dress like his favorite cartoon character. You help him piece together a DIY costume. Sevika adds a cape. He beams at both of you like you’ve given him superpowers.

𓂃۶ৎ ● On nights when he’s sick, you stay up rubbing his back while Sevika heats soup and brings towels. You don’t sleep much, but he calls you both his heroes the next day.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He starts locking his bedroom door. You knock gently. Sevika knocks harder. But eventually, he lets you in and sits between you both to talk about how weird it feels to grow up.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He surprises you with breakfast on your birthday. Sevika helped, but he did the pancakes himself. They’re slightly burnt. You eat them with a full heart.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You and Sevika both attend his school play. He keeps looking at you from the stage. Afterward, he only cares if you liked it. You both hug him like he just won an award.

𓂃۶ৎ ● He starts helping with dinner. You show him how to chop vegetables. Sevika shows him how not to burn steak. Together, you build little rituals of home.

𓂃۶ৎ ● When he first came out to you, it was simple he said, “Mom, I’m gay.” You just nodded calmly and asked, “Okay, what kind of lasagna do you want for dinner tonight?".

𓂃۶ৎ ● Sevika already knew. She’d seen him once in your bedroom, dressing up like you—your clothes, your scent. She’d laughed softly but kept it quiet, letting him come out in his own time.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You and Sevika felt it that morning, deep in your bones. The weight of time resting heavy in your lungs, the stillness in your chest. A quiet knowing. Today would be the last.

𓂃۶ৎ ● You took a warm bath together, the water gentler on your aching bodies than it had ever been. She helped you into that old dress—the one she loved most. The one she said made her feel like the luckiest bastard

𓂃۶ৎ ● With the help of medicine, and a whisper of strength left in you both, you made love that night. Slow. Reverent. Like a prayer. You wore the black silk slip Sevika always said made her heart stop. She smiled when she saw you, even through the ache in her chest.

𓂃۶ৎ ● The sunset poured through the curtains in gold and soft lavender. You both laid side by side in bed, holding hands, faces turned to each other. No machines, no fear—just shared breath and hearts that had beat together for decades.

𓂃۶ৎ ● Your son sat between you, now a man, brushing Sevika’s hair with shaking fingers and holding your wrist like a tether. You smiled at him, weak but still his mother. “You made our lives beautiful,” you whispered.

𓂃۶ৎ ● Sevika coughed out a breath of a laugh. “If it’s possible… put us in the same fucking coffin,” she rasped. “We fucked last night. Just to haunt you one last time.”

𓂃۶ৎ ● He laughed through the tears, head bowed to your entwined hands. “You two are impossible,” he sobbed. “I love you. I love you so much.”

𓂃۶ৎ ● Your final words, shared in near unison, were just, “We love you too. Always.” And then… peace.

Sevika felt it instantly. The weight of your body against hers shifted—no rise, no fall of your breath. Just a hush that cut through everything. Too still. Too quiet. Her hand shook where it rested on your chest. “No,” she whispered, voice cracking like a branch in winter. “No, Dearest, c’mon…”

She pressed her forehead to yours, trying to feel you again, even for a second.

Then, with a trembling laugh breaking through the sob in her throat, she muttered, “Rude. I always said I’d go first.” Her eyes stung, nose running, mouth tugging into a crooked smile as she wiped her face on the blanket between you. “Didn’t even let me win that one, huh?”

She held you tighter, lips to your hair. “Alright, alright. I’m comin’.” A pause, then dryly, “You’d just haunt my ass if I didn’t.”

𓂃۶ৎ ● You both slipped away within minutes of each other. Faces soft. Hands still clasped. Mouths tilted toward a final kiss that death couldn’t quite steal.

𓂃۶ৎ ● Your funeral was quiet. Flowers bloomed over your shared grave, just like the ones you planted on the balcony every spring. Your son brought the same kind—lavender, soft pinks, deep reds. He cried. He smiled. He stood tall.

𓂃۶ৎ ● Years later, he adopted a daughter with his husband. A bright-eyed baby girl with your warmth and Sevika’s intensity in her gaze.

𓂃۶ৎ ● They named her a tender mix of both your names. A name that meant legacy and love and strength.

𓂃۶ৎ ● Every year, they visited your grave. He’d talk to you both like you were still around. Sometimes, he left lasagna. Sometimes, whiskey. The baby, now a child, would place tiny flowers in the stone cracks.

𓂃۶ৎ ● She’d say, “Hi, Grandma. Hi, Grandma Vika.” And laugh as if you were just behind the tree, waiting to scoop her up.

𓂃۶ৎ ● And somehow… in the rustling of the wind, in the golden light that touched her curls—you always were.

౨ৎ - 𝐓aglist ; @prettyinpink69 , @abbysdollie , @marieeeluvsyou , @littlelovelunette , @madzorwhatever , @zvmbitegirl , @salsalsusu , @katarandaa , @starrycherie , @moonshimegf , @watermelonshine , @zombieeepup .

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floralpools · 1 year ago

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Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!), first person

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you—well, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.7k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. But, you see, bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing than wearing something bland. And unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day… I was so close to the finish line when my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret and outed it to the entire student body.

Truth is, i’m a mutant…

That’s what led me across the coast for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I had heard the stories of mutants being hunted and missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough to be next on someone’s hit-list. I prayed I’d at least make it to my 20th birthday.

But then, my days of swindling folks for cash and food came to a stop, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so, I quickly grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into the crowd.

Just when I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a broad, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn leather jacket.

Logan Howlett—or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor...

After he and Scott captured me, I was dragged by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I still remember cringing when they told me where we were headed. But once we arrived, and I saw all the kids who were like me, going about their lives freely, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know jack-shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at the time... Just my luck. The one day of the week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and locking my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm.

“Class?” I sound meekly, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“The only class you have left today is at four. You’ve already managed to miss the rest,” she scolds plainly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare.

She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, visibly exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten my spine, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class room where he’s most likely waiting, dozing off in his chair.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. Then I giggle, moving towards him.

“Mr. Howlett?” I call politely before clearing my throat rather loudly. He grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I repeat even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, and yet, he’s still sleeping.

I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and the change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, his voice echoing throughout the classroom. I refused to move away from where I stood, despite the closeness. I wanted to seem unaffected by him, though in truth, I was anything but.

With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart thrashes wildly, beating against the cage I call my ribs. Logan then clears his throat, and rolls his eyes to look away from my attire, as he usually does—giving me a once-over before hauling his focus back to his lecture.

“You missed class. ‘sn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes, and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t cause you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen.

He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every damn time he does, I still can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs that makes me rise to defend myself.

“No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him.

“And you’re just gonna admit that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort with a grin that beams across my face. His smile drops the second mine comes into full form.

He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me…

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion.

“Um, I’m sorry?” I try to compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously.

My brows furrow. “Okay…? I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to, especially given the fact that he’s the teacher, not me.

Logan lifts off his chair, standing up, leather heels hitting the wooden floor. I almost gasp when he towers over me, clearly trying to intimidate. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk.

“What?” I yelp, and his smirk breaks through his stoicism. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What isn’t funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze, suddenly drowning in disbelief.

Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me— you damn highlighter,” he asserts, eyes flickering to my outfit again. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re really an adult.” His gravelly voice loses all its humour, and I stay glued to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan then orders before he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. A wave of urgency takes over. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond to the insult with some more hostility, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to straddle his hips. I then cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together. He grunts in surprise, as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would actually want him this way.

He really is all bark.

Half-heartedly, Logan tries to pull away in between kisses, whispering my name as a small protest, but he immediately gets muffled by my lips. When I grind on his lap, his objections quickly turn into a fierce groan.

Logan then takes my hips into his large hands, tightly gripping my flesh to push me back onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays stuck to my core, even as he manhandles me. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then it slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it to give me a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating the kiss. I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how eager he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock.

“I'm a sucker for extra attention, teach,” I breath out as sensually as I can muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his crotch doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me.

“You like attention?” Logan asks, his tone becoming surprisingly soft. His voice makes me shiver and whimper, yet again.

“I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me exactly what he wants to hear.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave when he swears, rolling his hips into me once more. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he just dips his head to laugh by my ear. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object weakly, and feel his smile before he leans back. I turn my head over my shoulder to catch him peering down at where our bodies meet.

“You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not here to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken right here, so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back. “But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I have to grimace.

He chuckles without humour. “Because… if we did, I’d get hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he suddenly pecks my naked spine, just below the clip of my bra. “Christ—even your lingerie is pink huh?” His chuckle sounds like silk. “Imagined it would be.”

My legs rub together at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs almost proudly.

After a long beat of silence, and a little grinding, I speak up again. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, just after giving my ass a mellow slap. I gasp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We then hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late for class,” he teases airily, and the edge of his lips twitch upwards. I nod and rush out the room with a grin plastered on my face—which stayed on my face for the rest of the day.

...

After a long, vigorous day, I finally collapse onto my plush bed with a hefty sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings out. There’s a hint of a familiar sass that makes me jolt upright. I spot Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt strains against his chest when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims with a goading tone, repeating my earlier remark.

(My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin from that sentence alone.)

In an attempt to remedy my reputation and sexual appeal, I sit up on my bed, elbows bracing my body upright, and I slowly spread my bent legs. Biting my bottom lip, I feel his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” His name rolls off my tongue. The challenge makes his head jerk in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit.

“Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh.

I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I shove my hands into his hair, running my fingers through the thick strands. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace, grinding against his jeans. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, and something more gentle.

Just as I begin to undo his belt, he flips me over onto my stomach just like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above me. “That thong better be pink,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction when I’m left in just my underwear, tailored for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, immediately going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder.

I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I giggle, "You have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're just begging for it princess."

Part two

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jibitzlesscrocs · 1 month ago

Note

fluff of Matt being a girl dad and Chris a boy dad

they are literally dilfs holyshit

warnings : drawing on walls?

dads on duty

in which, it’s just chris and matt being dads

When you rolled over, you were greeted by a sight so sweet it made you melt on the spot.

Matt was sitting crisscross on the bedroom floor, in a worn hoodie and pajama pants, surrounded by tiny doll clothes, sparkly accessories, and the proudest three-year-old girl you’d ever seen.

She had a doll in each hand and a determined look on her face. Matt was holding up a third doll, clearly awaiting instruction.

“Okay, Daddy, this one’s going to the ball. But she’s also a spy, so she needs boots under her dress.”

Matt nodded, completely serious. “Got it. Fancy and functional. I respect that.”

You leaned against the doorframe, grinning. “Should I be concerned about how good you are at this?”

Matt looked up at you with a huge smile. “She said I’m the royal stylist-slash-secret agent assistant. I’ve been promoted three times this morning.”

Your daughter turned around. “Mommy! You can be the fairy queen if you want!”

“Well, obviously,” you laughed, coming to sit next to them.

Matt leaned close and whispered in your ear, “I already married a fairy queen, so that checks out.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, then looked down at your little girl, her hair wild from sleep and her eyes shining with excitement.

This—dolls on the floor, bedhead curls, sparkly chaos—was your perfect little kingdom.

And Matt? He ruled it with a tiara and zero shame.

You were humming to yourself as you walked down the hall, blissfully unaware that your peaceful morning was about to take a very colorful turn.

Then you saw it.

A sprawling blue marker mural running from the baseboard up the wall, complete with dinosaurs wearing hats, a rocket ship, and one oddly detailed drawing of what could only be… Chris?

Sunglasses. Backwards hat. Muscles. Stick-figure glory.

You blinked. “No way.”

Just as you opened your mouth, you heard it.

“Quick, hide the markers or I’m telling its you!”

“Hey! I made you! You can’t betray me!”

Two whisper-yelling voices—one small, one… very much grown.

You peeked into the living room and found them huddled under a blanket, wide-eyed and guilty. Your son peeked out first, followed by Chris, both blinking like this is fine, we did nothing.

“…Hi baby,” Chris said innocently, one arm still wrapped around your son like he was trying to shield him from judgment.

You crossed your arms. “Hi. Would either of you like to explain why I just passed a full-scale mural on the hallway wall?”

Your son pointed to Chris. “Daddy said the wall is like big paper!”

Chris gasped. “You said that!”

“Only ‘cause you said the T-Rex needed a cave!”

“I was thinking small cave! Not wall-cave!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Both of you. Timeout. Couch. Now.”

Chris picked your son up, dramatically carrying him like a sack of flour. “This is injustice. We are creative spirits. Artists. Visionaries.”

“Couch,” you repeated, fighting back a laugh.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, flopping onto the couch and pulling your son into his lap. “We’re in art jail.”

Your son giggled and whispered, “I love art jail.”

Chris ruffled his hair. “Me too, buddy.”

You left them there for a few minutes, snuggled up under the blanket, whispering about their next “masterpiece.” Then you reappeared with a peace offering—cookies and little cups of milk.

Both faces lit up instantly.

Chris took a bite,“This is the best punishment ever.”

You sat beside them, brushing a curl from your son’s forehead. “Next time, use paper.”

“But paper’s so small,” your son said with a pout.

Chris leaned over and kissed your cheek. “To be fair… the wall really does make a great canvas.”

You gave him a look. “If I find glitter on the baseboards next time, I’m locking the markers up.”

He grinned and held up a pinky. “Scout’s honor. No glitter murals. Probably.”

Your son gave you a cookie crumb kiss on the cheek. “We’ll draw you next time, Mommy.”

You looked between the two of them—your troublemakers, your soft-hearted boys—and your heart squeezed.

You didn’t get quiet mornings, but you got this. Love, laughter, and crayon-colored chaos.

And honestly? You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

taglist: @courta13 , @sunkissedsturniolos , @ivysturnss , @imsoborediwannadie , @emeraldsturns , @beabadoobeelvur , @moth-feeet , @lezleeferguson-120 , @theowensturniolo , @leahfaith , @nickysturnss , @mattspillowprincess , @mqttsbunnyies , @passionfruitchris , @emely9274 , @riggysworld

MAI’S STORE

had to write this with this weeks insane photo dump

mwah!

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siredtoelijah44 · 2 months ago

Text

Behave – Aaron Hotchner (18+)

about: teasing Aaron at work always ended the same way – with him putting you in your place

warnings: smut, f!reader, brief mention of Haley and Jack, implied big age gap, bratty!reader, brat tamer hotch, mentions of f!masturbation, teasing aaron at work, spicy pics, using a tie as restraints, spanking with a belt, stoplight system, unprotected sex, brief aftercare

a/n: first Aaron fic so it might be a little ooc

word count: 3568

Hotch hadn’t always been so serious. When he was younger he’d been more carefree. Before everything had happened with Haley and before the BAU had finally taken its toll on him, he’d been different. The team always liked to tease him for being a drill sergeant. But his stoicism did fade sometimes.

When he was with Jack, he could crack a smile. The nights spent at Rossi’s place when the entire team got to take a breath and forget about the things they saw every day, were refreshing.

And he certainly melted when he was with you. A soft smile or a gentle touch turned him into a puddle of mush.

When he first met you it had been the day you moved in next door.

Sweat covered your body as you carried boxes into the apartment next to his, hair sticking to your forehead. Things were precariously balanced as you tried to make it into your new place. Aaron had taken pity on you and offered help. You’d gladly taken it.

Once you were settled you’d wound up at his door with a fresh batch of cookies as a thank you for his assistance. It wasn’t the only time you’d ended up in this situation. Aaron had given you his phone number for emergencies and you’d ended up calling him more than once when you were in need – a lightbulb you couldn’t reach that needed changing, when your fridge had gone out and you hadn’t been able to figure out how to fix it.

You’d bring him dinner or baked goods in return for the things he did for you. But simple favors and gifts in return slowly turned into something more. They turned to late nights and drinks and getting to know each other.

He’d been hesitant to let you in. Aaron had walls up that he didn’t want to bring down, especially considering your age. You were far too young for a man like him – someone who was so broken, who felt as if he was damaged beyond repair.

But you weren’t deterred by his gruff exterior. Eventually one thing led to another and you wound up in his bed one night. Then it happened again. Soon enough he was officially calling you his girlfriend and introducing you to his team and telling Jack about you two. The walls slowly came down around his heart.

The shrill sound of an alarm going off pierced through the pleasant dreams you’d been having. Eyes stayed closed but you could feel Aaron shifting, getting out of bed to get ready for the day. You could hear the bathroom door open and then the familiar sound of the shower running.

The familiar – and welcome – sight of Aaron with a towel around his waist and wet hair was the first thing you saw when you finally pried your eyes open. You’d wanted to see him before he left, despite the sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness. Now you seemed wide awake.

His body was on display for your greedy eyes. Water droplets clung to his skin and your eyes followed a drop as it trailed down his body, carving a path down to where his towel sat low on his hips.

You couldn’t help the little noise – practically a whine – that escaped your lips at the sight. His gaze snapped towards you at the noise. You looked practically angelic to him. You were wrapped up in the sheets, wearing nothing but his shirt.

“Come back to bed,” you crooned, sleep still lacing your words.

Aaron chuckled softly. “I can’t do that, honey. I have to go to work.”

His body was hidden from your gaze as he entered the closet to get dressed. You huffed softly. You could hear the familiar rustling of fabric as he pulled on his suit. He finally returned to your view as he did up the last of his buttons.

“You can call out. Just this once,” you begged.

His smile made your heart flutter. “I can’t,” he repeated. “I’ve got a load of paperwork I have to get done.”

The pout on your lips only made his smile widen. He sat down on the edge of the bed as he pulled his shoes on. As he sat up, his hands went to his tie. Your eyes were fixed on his hands as he tied the fabric.

“Baby, please.” Your hands tugged at his suit jacket, urging him towards you. He knew you only called him baby when you wanted something.

“Honey, I can’t.”

“At least gimme a kiss before you go.”

Aaron could at least oblige that request, even if he couldn’t stay home with you. As appealing as spending his entire day tangled in the sheets with you was, the stack of paperwork on his desk had been building up.

He’d gotten home from a case the night before and hadn’t finished his reports. He’d been exhausted and all he’d wanted was to kiss his son goodnight and crawl into bed with you. So he’d done just that but that meant he needed to get to the office to do the work today.

He leaned in – a warm hand cupping your cheek – and pressed his lips against yours. It was a brief kiss. A quick moment of intimacy. It was all he had time for.

“I’ll see you tonight, honey,” he murmured. He gently pushed you back down onto the bed. “Just go back to sleep.”

You sunk back into the pillows. More than anything you wanted to pull him back into bed and make him stay with you. He’d been gone for nearly a week but didn’t have the energy to touch you last night. But now you were needy.

Yet, Aaron just kissed your forehead and left you to drift back to sleep, considering it was 5:00 am.

When you woke back up it was 10:00. You were restless. You were wound tight and nothing but Aaron himself would fix that. Your hands between your thighs didn’t ease the ache that had settled in your tummy – in fact it only made it worse.

Now you were even more on the edge. Picturing Aaron like he had been this morning – dripping with water and in nothing but a towel – wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. You needed him. You needed his fingers. They were so much bigger than your own. His hands felt so much better against your skin. He always knew how to make your toes curl and pleasure overwhelm your senses.

God, you needed him but it was still morning. He likely wouldn’t be home until late, leaving you to fend for yourself. But nothing you did seemed to work.

By the time lunch rolled around you were losing your mind.

There was no food in the fridge so you’d decided to get dressed to go grocery shopping. But when you got in the car you realized you didn’t want to deal with cooking. And an idea had popped into your head. It would likely end with you regretting it by the end of the night, but at least you’d have his undivided attention.

Aaron had been hunched over his desk since he’d gotten into the office. He needed to get all the paperwork done so he could get home. He wanted to get home to you. He knew you’d been on edge this morning. He felt bad for leaving you high and dry but he had a deadline.

What he hadn’t expected was to hear your voice floating into his office. The familiar cadence caught his attention. He looked up only to see you in the bullpen. You were perched on the edge of Emily’s desk as the team gathered around you.

You passed out containers of take-out with their names scrawled on the boxes. Hotch watched you carefully – leaning back in his chair – as you chatted with his coworkers before you made your way to his office.

He watched as you sat on his desk, offering a container to him. He took it from you. “What are you doing here, honey?”

“Brought you lunch,” you murmured.

He hummed softly in response, tugging you a little closer to him. He admired you for a moment – legs on display in that short skirt as you teetered on the edge of his desk. “Is that so?”

You leaned in, giving him a chaste kiss. “There was no food in the fridge,” you explained, launching into a long winded tale about how exactly you ended up in Aaron’s office. He nodded along. He listened to each word that left your lips, even if you went on little tangents. “Then I was craving your favorite and it felt rude to get it without you, so I brought it to you. And I figured you could all use lunch.”

You hadn’t been entirely wrong to assume he hadn’t eaten and neither had the rest of the team. They all had a tendency to get one-track minded when it came to work. Hunger was typically low on their list of priorities.

Aaron smiled as your story tapered off. He pulled you in for another quick kiss. He wouldn't give the team the satisfaction of much more than that, knowing they were watching from the bullpen.

“You could’ve just called and said you wanted to see me, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“That would’ve ruined the surprise.”

He squeezed your knee gently. It was as much of your skin as he’d allow himself to touch right now, but it was hard to resist you in that skirt. “We both know why you really came.”

You ignored his claims that you had ulterior motives and pressed your lips against his once more. You pulled away, settling into the chair across from his desk so you both could eat your lunch.

“Better eat up,” you told him, “or your food will get cold.”

You were on his mind the rest of the day. He knew that had been your plan – to make him want you as badly as you wanted him. His mind kept drifting back to you. To the way you looked that morning and then the way you’d looked perched on his desk in that skirt. You knew what that skirt did to him.

You only made things more difficult for him when you started texting him.

His phone buzzing had snapped him back to reality. He glanced at the screen.

Y/N: I miss you

He sighed softly but sent you a quick text back.

Aaron: Miss you too. I’ll be home no later than seven.

He thought that would be the end of it but no. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into you, but you seemed determined to test his patience today.

Y/N: sent an image

He clicked it open and regretted it instantly. You were back in bed, wrapped in nothing but his favorite lingerie set he’d bought you for your birthday. He had to clamp down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that threatened to escape. And his body immediately reacted to the sigh, his cock stirring in his slacks.

Aaron: Behave

The next picture was even worse. You’d pulled the cups of your bra down to give him the perfect view of your breasts.

He cursed under his breath before glancing at the clock. It was only 4:15. If he left right now he could make it home before traffic got completely insane. So against his better judgment he quickly packed up his bag and headed out. He made some excuse to the team – he knew they didn’t believe it – as he walked out.

Aaron: I’m on my way home. Don’t you dare do anything before I get back.

You giggled to yourself as he sent you that text. You readjusted the lingerie and stayed put in the bed. You knew he was likely pissed. Teasing him when he was at the office was definitely a risky move but you felt it would be worth the reward in the end.

Anticipation built up in your veins as you counted down the minutes until he’d arrive home. You heard the familiar sound of his key in the door soon enough.

You were sitting up on the bed, legs tucked underneath you as you waited for him. You could hear him moving through the apartment.

He dropped his briefcase and the stack of files he still needed to get done, in his office. He locked his gun in the safe too and dropped his badge on his desk. As he walked to the bedroom – where he knew you were (im)patiently waiting for him – he peeled his suit jacket off.

No attention was given to you as he hung his jacket up in the closet. He put his cufflinks back in their proper spot before rolling his sleeves up. He loosened his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt as well.

Only then did he turn his gaze on you. Heat flashed through his body. All his blood was rushing south as he took in the sight of you perched on the bed in that damn lingerie. A heavy sigh escaped his lips.

You shifted on the bed, feeling scrutinized under his intense gaze, his dark brown eyes never leaving you. It was a game of who would break first and you always did.

“Aaron–”

He cut you off with the click of his tongue. “Don’t. You can’t talk your way out of this, sweetheart.”

His voice was deceptively sweet – all sugar and honey – in an attempt to lull you into a false sense of security. But you knew better. Even if your heart fluttered at his soft voice. You knew you were in for it tonight.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry. Heart was pounding against your ribcage like it was trying to escape your body.

Aaron stepped towards the bed, reaching out to touch you. His hand gripped your jaw as he leaned in for a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that left you breathless as he pulled away from your mouth.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, “sending me those things while I was at work. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The authority in his tone made you press your thighs together. You were already aching and desperate for him, this wasn’t helping.

“I asked you a question.”

You blinked slowly. Your brain always turned to mush when he talked to you like this. “I’m sorry, Aaron.”

He hummed. “That’s a start. But sorry isn’t going to get you out of a punishment.”

You’d known that. You knew testing him, especially while he was at work, would end with you begging for mercy. But you’d needed him so bad that all rational thought had left your brain when you sent him that picture.

“Turn around, honey.” You did as he asked. He pushed you to lay all the way down, hips hanging over the edge of the bed. Once you were settled he tugged his tie off.“Hands.”

Another order was followed without much hesitation. You offered him your hands. Aaron tied your wrists together with his tie. He did it tight enough so you couldn’t escape the bonds but not tight enough it would hurt you.

“Good girl.” His hand trailed down your spine. He reached the edge of your panties, tugging them down your legs.

Your breath hitched as you heard the familiar clinking off his belt. He pulled it out of the loops, holding it so he could run it across your ass. You immediately tensed.

Aaron took note. He reached out, gently squeezing your hip. “Color?”

“Green,” came your breathless reply.

“Then I need you to relax, honey. It’ll be easier if you do.”

It was easier said than done. You hated when he used the belt but it happened more often than you’d like. You tested his patience on the regular. You pushed and prodded until he snapped and bent you over his knee. Yet every time you begged him to take it easy on you, like you hadn’t purposely been a brat.

The first strike was lighter – a warm up. Despite the fact that he was punishing you, he never wanted you to be in a lot of pain. He just gave you enough to remind you of your place. But each hit grew progressively harder.

He enjoyed the little whimpers that escaped your lips each time he brought the belt down against your sensitive skin.

After what felt like an eternity, he dropped the leather. He ran his hand over your now reddened ass. It made you squirm.

He chuckled softly as you tried to escape his hand.He just tutted, smacking your ass with his hand this time. “Where do you think you’re going, hm? I’m not done with you.”

Hands pulled at you until you were flipped over. Your arms were awkwardly tucked under your body, still tied with Aaron’s tie behind your back. He took a moment to admire you. He adored this sight – your eyes glassy and legs spread for him.

He ran a finger through your folds. “So wet for me, honey. You really did miss me.”

“Told you I did,” you practically whined, hips instinctively bucking against his hand.

“I missed you too, honey,” Aaron cooed. He sunk one finger into your wet heat. He curled it, hitting the spot that always made your toes curl. He added a second to stretch you open for him and brushed his thumb across your clit.

When he pulled his hand away from your dripping cunt you mourned the loss of his touch. But you didn’t have much time to think about it, because he was pushing his slacks and boxers down enough to free his cock. He was already achingly hard.

“You see what you do to me?” he asked, teasing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’ve been like this since the office. Sent me that picture. You know what this damn lingerie does to me.”

The feel of him brushing against your sensitive nub, pulled a moan from your lips. He continued to tease you, running his cock through your folds but never quite filling you up. Finally he pulled your thighs around his hips and lined himself up with your entrance.

Aaron groaned as he finally pushed himself into your greedy cunt. His head dropped against your shoulder as he finally bottomed out, hips knocking against your own.

“Fuck,” he cursed, rolling his hips. “You feel so good, honey.”

Your moans mingled with his own noises as he fucked you harder. His hips snapped against your own with each thrust. One hand held your hip, the other trailed up your body until it settled on your neck. Aaron didn’t squeeze but just let you feel the weight of his hand on your throat.

“Aaron,” you moaned.

Each nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. The coil in your stomach grew tighter with each roll of his hips. Eyes rolled back into your head as his head dipped down, sucking on your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

“Gonna cum,” you told him, voice choked with pleasure.

“I’ve got you,” he groaned against your skin, “cum for me, honey.”

Another roll of his hips and his thumb swiping across your clit sent you toppling over the edge, coil in your tummy snapping. Your toes curled and you clenched around his length. He cursed at the feeling.

He kept snapping his hips, chasing his own high. It only took a few more thrusts before the feeling of your wet cunt was too much for him. He spilled his seed inside of you as you both rode out your orgasms.

He finally pulled out, watching the way his release dripped out of your hole. Aaron couldn’t help himself as he settled his head between your thighs. He lapped up your combined releases, savoring the taste on his tongue.

You squirmed. He hadn’t even given you time to come down from your first high before he was pushing you towards a second.

“Fuck, Aaron,” you cried out. You weren’t sure if you wanted to run away from his touch or beg for more. But you didn’t have a choice as he devoured your cunt, lapping up everything you gave him. And you couldn’t even push him away with your hands still tied.

“Just one more,” he murmured against your skin. “Just give me one more.”

You were already overly sensitive from your first orgasm so it didn’t take much more to push you into a second. Fingers dug into your thighs, keeping them parted as they tried to clamp shut around his head. He only pulled away when you were shaking and gasping for breath. His chin was glistening with your slick, but he looked satisfied.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “So good for me, honey.”

His hands were gentle now as he undid the tie around your wrists. He massaged your hands, trying to get circulation back into your extremities. He placed soft kisses against the skin too as he whispered sweet nothings.

“I love you,” he told you after he had finished cleaning you up. He’d pulled you against his chest as you laid in bed.

“I love you too.”

#aaron hotch #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #smut

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slutzforbueckers · 2 months ago

Note

you should do something with paige just having a really bad day and coming home and her wife and daughter are just happy shes home. like her wife and daughter made dinner and cookies and its just a very cute and soft moment.

you make it better

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: fluff

synopsis: paige was having a bad day until she came home to her favorite girls.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

you were helping your daughter, lani, wash her hands after she helped make cookies and dinner. she had been begging to help in the kitchen for the past week. you were unsure of letting her help because of how young she still was but you decided to agree and it turned out to be more fun and easy than you thought. there were plenty of laughs and oopsies but watching her laugh and smile make it worth it.

“would you like to help mommy set the table?” you asked, bending down to her level as you dried her hands with a hand towel. another smile broke out on her face and she nodded her head quickly. you smiled back and stood up, taking her hand and grabbing a hand full of spoons and forks in the other. lani helped set the table, you handed her three spoons and she ran around the table delicately placing each spoon with each plate.

paige was due to be home soon, you had checked your watch almost every 5 minutes to see how much longer. you had only had a chance to talk to her a few times throughout the day, it was tough practice and you could tell—even through text—she wasn’t having a good day.

“mommy! you forgot the sharp ones!” lani jumped at your legs, her small hands tugging at the lavender sundress you wore. “i can get them! i can get them!” she exclaimed, already running back towards the kitchen.

you quickly caught up to her and caught her hand, laughing softly. “let me get those. why don’t you go get your picture for mama? she’ll be here soon.”

lani’s eyes grew wide—her smile wider and just like paige’s—and she ran off to her bedroom. you shook your head as you heard the soft thud of her small feet hitting the floor came to a stop. just as you were pulling the butter knives from the drawer the sound of keys filled your ears and the click of the door unlocking.

you quickly sat the knives down and made your way to the entryway, lani running in behind. paige barely had time to set her bags down before lani was jumping on her, wrapping her arms and legs around her the best she could.

“mama!”

“hi, sweet girl.” paige smiled and kissed the side of her head. you watched them with a smile, you could tell paige was tired but still she kept a smile on her face for her little girl. paige’s eyes met yours and she moved lani to her hip, opening her free arm for you. you stepped closer, leaning into her and wrapped your arms around her waist the best you could.

paige leaned her forehead against yours. "i missed you," she spoke quietly. you pulled back just enough to press a quick peck to her lips.

"missed you too." you smiled against her lips and pale one more quick peck before pulling away completely. lani tapped paiges shoulder quickly and shoved the picture she drew in her face.

"look what i made," paige pulled back slightly and took the picture in her free hand, holding it out so she could see. the picture was nothing but stick figures and colorful scribbles but still paige thought it was the most amazing piece of art she'd ever seen.

"wow lani, you really made this?" she gasped and turned to look at the squirming 4 year old. lani nodded her head quickly, a proud smile on her face. "this is amazing, i'm going to put it on the fridge."

paige turned to look at you and you both shared a silent moment, all the beautiful moments throughout your life that led to this very moment flashing between you. it was a difficult journey but you made it—together—and it was all worth it. you took a step closer to them and ran your fingers through your daughters curls.

"how about you go wash your hands? mama and i will get the food." you spoke gently. lani slithered out of paiges arms and took of running to the bathroom. paige let out a tired chuckle as she watched the little girl run off. you wrapped your arms around her again, completely this time. "long day?"

paige leaned into you, dropping her head onto your shoulder, and nodded. she let out a deep breath, feeling like all the weight of the day was slowly being lifted to longer she was in your arms. "so long, coach was on one today. i'm so glad to be home, y'all make it better."

"we're glad you're home too, paige. we missed you so much." you turned your head slightly and kissed the side of her head. “we’ll take a bath later and you can tell me all about it.”

“that sounds good.” paige mumbled into the crook of your neck before she lifted her head and pressed her lips to yours, her hands finding your waist.

the moment was short lived, the soft shuffle of feet breaking you apart. lani rounded the corner and wrapped herself around your legs. paige smiled down at her and ruffled her hair.

“ready to eat, princess?” paige asked, bending down to her level. lani jumped up and down and grabbed a hold of paige’s hand, already beginning to drag her towards the dining room.

“we made cookies, let’s haves cookies!!” she looked up at paige with those big, pleading eyes. lani was already looking around paige to see your face, knowing that you would say dinner first.

paige looked back at you with a sly grin and turned back to her daughter, badly whispering: “only one, don’t tell mommy.”

#m speaks #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers x fem!reader fluff #dallas wings

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cameronsbabydoll · 4 months ago

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BURNT COOKIES — SPOILED KOOK READER + RAFE

WARNINGS — kissing and it implies that they end up having sex but it’s not shown in the writing?

You were determined to do something nice for Rafe, especially after he’d been working late for the past few days. The house felt empty without him around, and you figured baking him cookies would be the perfect way to show him you cared. You'd seen some cute recipe online—how hard could it be, right?

Now, standing in the kitchen, you’ve realized just how badly you misjudged the situation. The oven timer went off a while ago, and you can smell something burnt in the air. A quick glance at the tray reveals that your attempt at baking turned into a charred disaster. Your cookies look like they’ve been through a fire, and not the kind that makes them crispy in a good way.

Pouting, you stand in the middle of the kitchen, holding the ruined cookies in both hands. You're wearing one of Rafe’s oversized hoodies, your long legs in knee-high socks, and your hair in a messy ponytail. You look more adorable than anything else as you chew on your lip, contemplating your next move.

Rafe walks into the kitchen, his eyes scanning the scene. He’s just returned from the gym, his shirt sticking to his broad chest, and his hair still damp from the shower. When he spots you, he smirks, sensing your nervous energy. “What’s all this, baby?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.

“I—I made you cookies,” you say sheepishly, holding them out to him. “But... they didn’t turn out exactly like the picture...”

Rafe stifles a chuckle as he takes a step closer. He looks down at the charred cookies, his lips curling into a smirk. “I can see that.” His gaze flickers back to you, a playful glint in his eyes. “And here I thought you were trying to impress me.”

You bite your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and affection for him. “I was, I swear! I didn’t mean to mess them up.” You tilt your head, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “But, um... I was hoping you’d still like them? I really tried...”

Rafe chuckles, his hand cupping your chin gently as he lifts your face to meet his. “You’re so cute, baby,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. He kisses your forehead before looking down at the cookies again. “You didn’t have to do this, but I appreciate it. You know that, right?”

You nod eagerly, smiling at the praise, even if it’s only for your effort and not your baking skills. “Yeah, I wanted to make you happy,” you say with a soft giggle. “But... I think I messed it up.”

Rafe shakes his head, stepping closer and taking your hand. “You didn’t mess anything up, baby.” He pulls you toward him, your bodies pressing together as his hands slide down to your hips. He lowers his head, kissing you gently at first, and you melt into him, your hands wrapping around his neck. The kiss deepens, his tongue brushing against your lips, demanding entry as you let out a soft sigh.

When he pulls away, his eyes darken slightly, and he lowers his voice, now teasing. “I think you’re just using those cookies as an excuse to get my attention, huh?”

You giggle, playfully looking up at him. “Maybe,” you admit, your voice sweet and innocent, but there's a little hint of mischief in your eyes. “Is that bad?”

Rafe’s hands slide up your waist, pulling you even closer. His lips curve into a possessive smirk. “Not at all,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough now. “But now that you’ve got me here…” He gently pushes you back against the counter, his hands moving to your hips, keeping you locked against him.

“You’re so distracting, you know that?” he growls, his lips trailing down your neck. “I was trying to get some work done, but all I can think about is how cute you look in that hoodie. How sweet and innocent you seem, with those big eyes and that pretty smile.” His hands wander beneath the hoodie, his fingertips grazing the skin of your thighs, making you shiver with anticipation.

You giggle again, your hand running through his damp hair. “I can’t help it, Rafe... I just want to be with you.”

With a growl, Rafe pulls you closer, lifting you onto the counter as he stands between your legs. He looks down at you, his gaze heated and possessive. “You’re going to be the death of me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “But I’m not complaining.” He presses his lips to yours once more, this time with more urgency, his hands roaming over your body as his touch becomes more insistent.

You lean into him, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Rafe... I really did try with the cookies,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his as your fingers trace the lines of his muscles.

“I know you did, baby,” he replies, his lips trailing down your neck again as his hand slides under the waistband of your lacy underwear, finding the heat between your legs. “And you know what? You’re perfect just the way you are. Now... let me show you how much I appreciate it.”

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 months ago

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Pretty Young Thing

Retired!Older! Kakashi Hatake x AFAB!Kunoichi! Reader

***This piece is rated M for MATURE. 18+ entry only***

Warnings: Age gap (like 20+ years dude fr it's a GAP), longing, Kakashi being smitten, Kakashi being awkward and emotionally constipated, penetrative sex (p in v), fingering, cum eating, pussy slapping, creampies (wrap it before you tap it, people), squirting, overstimulation, VERY BRIEF dd/lg dynamic (I COULDN'T RESIST I'M SORRY)

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's Note: So. This was SUPPOSED to be a short drabble about Kakashi getting older and retiring and being interested in a cute, young, you. However, I couldn't stop my brain from braining and my hands from typing. It was gonna be less than 500 words. I don't know WHAT possessed me, but here I am.

ENJOY~

He's been forced into retirement. At least, that's what he tells everyone for the first few years, unable to fight the urge to get out in the field at every opportunity and being shot down. He sticks around the academy, and they allow him to still teach and help the next generation of ninja grow into well-rounded shinobi, for two reasons: he's an incredibly skilled and talented ninja that can pass on all of his skills, and he goes absolutely stir crazy trying to find something to do with his life after finishing Icha Icha.

Truthfully, he'd finished the series within the first 48 hours of his retirement, then re-read the damn series twice over before he finally got sick of it all. He couldn't take the lack of, well, anything.

Throughout his life he's fought countless battles, lost loved ones, and even the war took its toll on his body and his mind. But he misses it. Misses the action, misses the rush and the thrill. He's restless. His fingers twitch when he's sitting for too long, his legs bouncing and tapping on the floor when he's stood still in the kitchen waiting for a meal to finish on the stove. Even cooking can't seem to keep him occupied enough.

But he manages, eventually. Runs and works out in almost all of his free time, waking up at the crack of dawn to train himself for nothing every morning. Cooks every single meal and even bakes more desserts than he could possibly eat in his lifetime, brings all of his extra cupcakes and pies to his students when he finally has a new class. Not a team, no, he's been relegated to indoor classroom settings only. Nothing that could get him out in the field. And he tries to read new books. Nothing really catches his eye though, not enough to gerner his attention like he needs it to.

But then you show up.

You, a pretty young thing that's moved from the Hidden Mist village to come teach the young about your own village's history. It's part of the new initiative Naruto put in, once he'd finally reached his dream of becoming Hokage and got the village back in order. You're part of a group of eight shinobi, two from each major village, who were assigned to Konoha to begin a sort of fusion between the villages. Eight of the leaf's shinobi were sent out to the other villages as well.

He'd only managed to notice you while he was dropping off some of those extra desserts he'd made to occupy his time. You caught his eye like sunlight through stained glass, displaying to the students a few water-style jutsu that the Mist had perfected long ago and passed down through generations. He was mesmerized. You moved like the tides, body fluid like water, graceful and powerful. Clearly you'd mastered these techniques on an entirely different level, the motions so fluent you could probably do them in your sleep.

That's all it took for him to latch onto you. He's infatuated, really. After watching the demonstration, he actually offers you and your students the lemon-raspberry cookies he'd made last night. He talked with you for what must have been hours after that, all your classes having finished for the day and you strolled through Konoha. It was your first day, you'd said, and you were still trying to figure out the layout of the village.

"It's a lot bigger than the Mist. I didn't know what to expect if I'm being honest. I got here yesterday afternoon, and got lost on the way to school this morning." You laugh then, and he finds himself laughing with you. He offers to give you an escort whenever you find yourself needing one, offers to show you all the good food and the prettiest spots to laze in the sun.

It's about three months in that he finds himself actively looking for you during his morning run through the village. Not around the village, not anymore, ever since you'd moved here. He changed his entire running route to be able to spot you if you'd gotten lost, and then detoured to get you back on the path to school. Hell, he even walks you all the way to the front door of your classroom.

It takes him far too long to admit to himself that he's developing romantic feelings for you.

And he's a little ashamed about the whole thing.

He knows he's getting older, mid-late forties, dangerously close to fifty but he won't admit that to anyone if they ask. If his hair weren't already white, it'd be noticeably graying. His body's gotten just a little softer with age, but he stays as active as he can. He won't deny he's no spring chicken.

But you're young, maybe a little over half his age, can't be older than thirty. It's...strange. You're younger than any of Team 7, who he considers his children, but somehow you've circumvented that entirely. Maybe it's because he hadn't watched you grow up, maybe it's because you seem so accomplished and put-together, maybe it's because he still feels like he's a younger man than he is. But it's strange.

It's strange, and he feels a little guilty, especially when he's all alone late at night and his mind wanders a little too far back to Icha Icha. Especially when he's tenting his boxers and rubbing one out to ease the tension and suddenly all he can see in his mind is you. Especially when the post-nut clarity hits him like a truck, because he knows what people say and think about an age gap that large.

"When have you ever cared about what other people think, Kakashi?" Yamato tilts his head, pulling the emptying bottle of sake from his white-haired friend's hands.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Besides, if it helps at all, here's what I think. I think you're both fully grown adults, and as long as she actually wants to be in a relationship and you don't force her hand, there's absolutely nothing wrong with it." Kakashi's head hits the back of the cracked leather seat of the booth, a short sigh escaping him. Yamato is right.

And then he's yearning for you. Looking for your face everywhere, seeking you out whenever he finds another class to teach, visiting you after you finish your classes to drop off another tray of sweets. He's walked you home more times than he can count now, and he's watched your eyes light up as the sun sets behind the treeline and paints the sky in brilliant orange and pink hues. You'd never seen such beautiful sunsets. You say the Hidden Mist is always cloudy or shrouded in a thick fog, so the sky is always gray unless the sun is at its peak and can shine down enough to break through the mist.

He loves watching you watch the sun set. He loves watching you teach the kids. He loves watching you perform jutsu he's never seen before. He loves walking you to class every morning even though you already know your way around the village by now. He loves being in your presence, and hearing your voice, and seeing you smile and hearing you laugh at all his stupid jokes.

He's so far gone. The worst part is that he won't do anything about it. Because there's no way a pretty, young thing like you could be any kind of interested in someone like him. Aged, retired, his lease on life far from new. Not a chance you'd even consider him a suitor in any fashion.

Right?

"Hey, Kakashi?" He hums in response, walking alongside you as you two take a stroll after school. It's a route you two take often, after he'd shown you the best spots to watch the sky at sunset.

"You go running every morning, don't you? To keep in shape?" Another hum, but this time he's looking at you and your strangely mischievous expression. To your credit, you're trying your absolute hardest to keep your face neutral as you plan out your next moves.

"Why do you ask?" You shrug, but it's far from nonchalant. It's forced, as if you needed to pretend to be indifferent. You're scheming.

"Oh, no reason."

"Right." He doesn't believe you. Even as you lapse into silence for a few minutes, he can see the way your entire body is coiled, ready to take off like a spooked rabbit. But you're not afraid, no, you're excited about something. Then, you stop in your tracks, and face him head-on. His head tilts, and you reach out with one hand, your entire palm laying flat on his chest where his heart beats entirely too fast for the pace you'd been walking at. And your smile. It's so sweet, so innocent, and the little giggle that slips out makes his head light.

"Tag, you're it!" Then you're gone. He blinks, and you've vanished, having initiated a game he hasn't played in years. He can see you, still, where you're watching from a tree branch nearby. You wait to see if he'll chase, see if he's actually feeling up to this little game. His head snaps over to you and you wave over at him, wiggling your fingers. His heart races in his chest, his fingers trembling, his feet stepping toward the treeline.

He's excited. His body moves before his mind can really make the executive decision, and he's standing beside you on your branch. But only briefly, and you're gone again before he can reach out and tag you. His vision narrows, watching you as you slip away from him once he gives chase. It's exhilarating, stimulating his years of trained reflexes and triggering his muscle memory like nothing in the classroom or proctoring chunin exams could ever do. He doesn't even realize where the two of you end up when you finally stop and let his hand come down on your shoulder.

You giggle again, and it makes him freeze, his chest heaving and nerves buzzing. But he doesn't move to run after tagging you.

"You've still got it, old man." It's...are you...teasing him? Yes, he realizes, you are. Because you turn around and face him and lay your palm over his heart again with the sweetest little grin.

"Care to come inside?" He swallows around the lump in his throat, blinking down at you as you chew at your bottom lip. Cute. He can't speak, so he nods, and then his heart leaps into his throat when you laugh and slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together to pull him into your apartment which he's only just now realized you'd stopped in front of.

"Don't be so nervous, Kakashi. I promise I'll be good and give your poor heart a break." That is an extremely dangerous thing for you to say at the moment, his restraint suddenly wearing thinner than rice paper. It makes him stop once you've dragged him inside, his head spinning suddenly with all the depraved thoughts running through his mind. And you, sweet thing you are, look confused and almost concerned as you look back at him, look up at him, where he's stuck in your entryway.

"Are you alright?" You reach up to place the back of your hand on his forehead, but he flinches away and grabs your wrist in his own large hand.

"Kakashi?" His breathing is shallow, his heart still going a mile a minute, his fingers tightening around your wrist. He can feel your own pulse, and he swears it's nearly as fast as his.

"Just give me a second, sweetheart. I'm trying to be a gentleman." The worry drops off your face like a dead weight. He can just barely see the corner of your mouth tug into a wicked smile.

"Maybe I don't want you to be a gentleman." Those eyes snap to yours in an instant, and...is that lust decorating your features? There's no way...

You're stepping toward him, and he steps back, releasing your wrist as you back him against the door.

"Maybe I want you to get naked in my bed." The words have him sweating. He chuckles, a nervous sound really.

"I thought you were going to give my heart a break." You hum, lean into his space and rest both palms on his chest, fingers spreading just to feel him. You sigh dramatically, turning back into your home and striding away with an extra sway to your hips. Pure temptation is what you are.

"I guess, being as old as you are you need a break huh? That poor ticker of yours is gonna give out if you're not careful." The way you eye him as you walk away has a tent forming in his pants. Fuck. You're right, his heart's gonna explode but it's not going to be from old age. He steps toward you, following you like a damn puppy, all the way to your bedroom where you turn and face him once again, a devious smile on your pretty lips.

"If I haven't made myself clear enough, Kakashi, here's another hint." He can't shut his eyes when you begin to undress in front of him. He wants so badly to give you privacy, to be a damn gentleman like he said. You're making that impossible. You're naked, completely bared to him and his gaze, dressed in nothing but pure sin. He doesn't back away when you approach him this time.

"You're a smart man, Kakashi. You've got all the information you need in that handsome head of yours. The question is: will you use that information to your advantage tonight?" He swallows, heat crawling over his skin the closer you get. Your naked breasts are pressing into his shirt and his fingers are itching to touch you.

"I don't want to take advantage of anything. Especially you." The admission makes you smile as you reach over and grasp his hands, tugging them and laying them on your very naked hips.

"Honestly, it feels like I'm the one taking advantage of you, with how little you're reacting to all of this." Thick fingers twitch, digging into your skin, and you loop your arms around his neck. He's going to die, and he won't even be mad about it.

Then he feels it, the slight tremor in your fingertips where they graze the hairs at his nape. There's the tiniest shake to your legs, the slightest pinch in your brows. Your bottom lip is being chewed once again, your jaw trembling. You're nervous. You're nervous like he is, waiting for him to reciprocate any of what you're giving him. Fuck. He's done for.

The little gasp you let out when he grasps your hips and twists, pinning you to the wall, fuels all of his movements. He's gained a new confidence.

"You're so pretty. Fuck, I can't believe this is real." You gasp again as he yanks his mask down and buries his face in your neck, licking up your pulsepoint and sucking a bruise into your skin.

"Fucking finally. You don't even know how long I've been dying to get you in here, Kakashi." He groans into you as you claw at his clothes, disrobing him as much as you can from where you're stuck beneath his palms.

"Oh yeah? You been thinking about me, pretty girl?" You nod, whine, unbutton his shirt and tug it down his shoulders. When he pulls back to look at you, you practically drool. He's still fit, sure, but there's a softness to him that you find irresistable. The layer of fat makes his gut pudge just a bit, and his arms are still bulging muscle but they're softened by time. He's bigger than you'd expected, wider and stronger and beefier.

"I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name." He almost cums in his pants, like a goddamn teenage virgin. All reservations are thrown promptly out the nearest window, his lips on yours in an instant. His hands are all over you, toying with your nipples and squeezing the flesh of your ass. Yours are in his hair, and he lifts you with ease only to drop you onto the bed. You whine when your bodies part, but then you watch him yank his belt off in record time and drop both his trousers and boxers to the floor.

He watches as your pupils dilate and black swallows up your irises.

What a fucking ego boost, huh?

You're about to crawl toward him, you desperately want to feel him in your throat, want to claw at his thighs and feel his fingers tug roughly at your hair as you suck him dry. Instead he crawls over you and pins you to the bed with one hand at your throat.

"Oh no, not tonight baby. I won't last." He kisses your pout away, then sucks more marks into your throat as he reaches down between your legs with thick fingers. The moan you let out has his hips jerking forward, one finger slipping effortlessly into your slick heat. You're absolutely drenched. You whine again, rocking your hips into his hand.

"Don't tease, 'Kashi. Please." Well when you beg so nicely, how could he refuse? A second finger is added, then a third, and when he curls them up and uses his thumb to rub circles into your swollen clit, your whole body arches off the sheets as your breath is nearly punched from your lungs. It doesn't take long at all before you're cumming all over his fingers, soaking his hand and your bed.

"Fuck, do that again, pretty thing." Legs shaking, chest heaving as you gasp for air, skin dewy with sweat from the quickest orgasm of your life. He's already moving, yanking you to the edge of the bed, ignoring your yelp completely as he kneels before you. You whine when you realize the position he's in.

"No fair." He chuckles, and you jolt, his breath hot over your still sensitive pussy.

"Sorry, sweetness. I can't help myself. Be a good girl and cum on my tongue." Then he's eating you out like you're his last meal. His nose nudges your clit with every movement, his deep moans vibrate through your body, and when his fingers find your clit again to give it some much-needed attention, you're falling apart again. Just like he asked. He can see everything from this angle, the way your thighs twitch as they clamp around his head, the way your stomach clenches so tight as you cum, the way your neck is completely exposed as your back arches beautifully off the bed. Sweat glistens over your skin, your hands clawing at his hair and the sheets beside your head.

He's too close to cumming.

Satisfied that you're wiped out, he crawls back over you and swipes a few stray strands of hair from your sweaty forehead. You're still trembling, two quick orgasms in a row making you feel like an exposed nerve ending.

"You okay, baby?" It takes you a second to refocus, but when you do you're beaming.

"Yeah, I'm great. Still want you to fuck me, though." He groans.

"You can't say things like that, love. I'll burst before I get near you." You chuckle, lay your head to the side.

"That's hot. Let me guess, you'll have to use a little blue pill to recover after that?" You damn minx. There's a little shriek that escapes you when he flips you over and yanks your hips up, pinning your face to the bed with one hand in your hair as he hunches over you.

"Careful, little girl, teasing me is dangerous. Wouldn't want to break you so soon." Desperate is how he'd describe your responding moan. With his dick pressed up against your cunt, he feels the way it clenches.

"Break me." Fuck. Fuck. In one hard thrust he's buried deep in your heat, your cunt gripping tight around him for dear life as you moan. He's not small, and the stretch has your eyes rolling back in your head, has your toes curling and your spine coiling tight.

He refuses to cum before you do. He's got an iron will, he refuses to cum early.

You're gasping as his hips slam into the fat of your ass, all the strength he possesses powering every thrust, hands bruising your hips as they claw into your skin like anything less would rip you away from him. He can see your face reddening. You've been fucked so dumb you forgot to breathe, and somehow that makes his cock throb inside you. He stills, curling over your back and burying himself so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Your eyes roll back into your skull almost painfully as he brushes your hair from your face, leaves a sweet little kiss on your cheek.

"Breathe, sweetheart. Can't have you passing out on me yet." Your gasp is shuddering, lungs barely inflating with the hiccupping breaths you take.

"There you go. Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" Then you're gone. He can feel you clench around his cock, feel your entire body go stiff and tremble as you cum. It's not a full orgasm, but it's intense, and you've been tipped right over the edge by the praise he'd whispered into your ear.

You're gone, and then he's gone.

He thrusts twice before letting go, filling you up with so much cum it leaks from between your legs and trails down the insides of your thighs in thick rivulets. You're still shaking as he pulls out of you and flips you over, petting your body as you come back down. Tears had fallen at some point, streaking your skin.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Your legs are trembling as you let them fall apart, exposing yourself to him again. The sight of you, absolutely ruined, his cum leaking from your cunt, has his cock painfully jumping to life again, just barely.

"Feel good. So good." Then, being the little temptress you are, you reach down between your legs and finger his cum back into you, moaning and jolting at the sensitivity. Then you bring your fingers to your lips and suck both your juices off the digits, not breaking eye contact with him.

"It's incredible how you can still want more after that." You whine, but smile.

"Of course I want more. I always want more of you. But you don't have to give me any more if you're not feeling up to it." He hums, low and throaty. It sends a very visible shiver up your spine.

"I didn't say that, baby." Effortlessly, he scoops you up and sits up against the headboard, tucking you into his lap with your legs spread over his. One of his massive arms bars over yours, pinning you against his chest while the other hand reaches down and begins toying with your clit. You jolt, still sensitive, squirming to try to get away from his deft fingers.

"What happened to always wanting more?" It's a tease to finally get back at you. It's his turn now, to fluster you and pull you apart. When you don't stop squirming and whining, his palm pulls away and comes back down, a swift smack catching your clit and you squeal.

"Stay still, baby girl. I'm only giving you what you wanted. Greedy little thing you are, don't back out on me now." You sob, your breathing hiccupped and quick while he rubs slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive bud, and you shake your head.

"Not backing out. Feels good, daddy." His hips buck, his moan is loud in your ear, guttural and wrecked. He didn't even think he'd like that kind of thing, but you. Damn it all. He smacks your pussy again, just a little harder, and your moans are matching his as your body recoils and arches as far off of his as you can manage beneath his brute strength. Another smack, another moan, you're shaking again. He's hard again. Harder than he's been in a long time, the throb in his dick constant and needy. He lifts your hips and lines up with you, then sinks you down on his length. You're crying, his dick curving up into your g-spot so well and his fingers toying with your clit making you dizzy.

"Come on, babygirl. Come on daddy's cock again, be good for me." He smacks your clit again, and he can feel every clench and flutter of your cunt around him. You're so close. He brings his hand down again, targeting your poor, swollen clit, his other hand dropping to press into the pouch of your stomach where he can feel his own dick through your belly, and that's all it takes for you to fall apart all over again. But this time, you're screaming, your body thrashing so hard he's having a hard time keeping you against his chest, and warm liquid sprays over his thighs and pools down over his balls. It all has him coming undone as well, a single low grunt before he's shoving his dick deep inside you and emptying whatever he's got left.

Then you're both boneless, panting, sweaty messes on your bed. It takes a long time for either of you to move, the sweat cooling over your bodies and making you both sticky. He thinks maybe you've fallen asleep, but is proven wrong when you whimper as you shift, his soft cock slipping from your cunt and making him hiss from the sensitivity. You roll over, off of him, and lay your head on his chest. Your laugh is light, but riddles with exhaustion.

"I think I almost died there, Kakashi." He snorts out a laugh, tugging you close.

"Glad I can make you feel good. You don't regret any of this?" It's adorable, how you tilt your head in confusion, lift yourself to hover above him.

"Why would I?" He shuts his eyes for the admission.

"I'm not exactly young, sweetheart. A lot of people would say I'm too old for you." You scoff, press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Like I give a damn what they think. I'm old enough to know what I want, and I'm also old enough to make my own decisions." One eye peeks open, staring up at you with more than a little hesitation. You only roll your eyes.

"If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have stripped naked in front of you in my own bedroom. Come on, I thought you were smarter than this Kakashi. Isn't old age supposed to come with wisdom?" He groans, dragging a hand down his face.

"Enough with the damn old jokes. It makes me feel..."

"Old?" He deadpans, you laugh.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. For now." His sigh is heavy, but you know he loves the teasing. You lean down once again to give him a peck on the lips, then pry yourself from his grasp and yank him to stand with you.

"Come on, we gotta shower and I gotta change the sheets." His hum is amused as he looks back at the mess you made, then back at you as you drag him toward what he assumes is the bathroom.

#this was supposed to be a SFW DRABBLE #WTF HAPPPENED? I DON'T KNOW #WHERE DID THE SMUT COME FROM? I ALSO DON'T KNOW #hatake kakashi #kakashi smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi naruto #naruto smut

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quibbs126 · 2 years ago

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So I’m having thoughts about the original purelily kid I was going to do, Vanilla Lily, and I really like his character and story, but also I was going to instead make the purelily kid sunflowers. And the problem is, I can’t see Sunflower Cookie as anything similar to Vanilla Lily (one example being I can only see Sunflower being a girl, while VL is a guy), they’re two completely different Cookies in my head and I can’t combine them. Sure maybe I could make Sunflower, but then there’s no Vanilla Lily

Also, now I kind of want to make Sunflower a goldenlily kid instead (that’s the Golden Cheese/White Lily Ship name right?), so there’s that too

But then also I don’t know what else to make Vanilla Lily, since I don’t just want to keep him as that. Maybe a different yellow flower? Or something else? I don’t know, but I know I want it yellow (and probably with dark pink accents)

But I think I’m scrapping sunflowers for the purelily kid and going for something else to turn Vanilla Lily into

I know you guys are probably tired of me doing this stuff, but I would really appreciate help with this struggle

#I want to tell y’all about Vanilla Lily so bad #but I can’t because I can’t figure out a design for him #so I’m suffering and probably annoying y’all with this stuff #cookie run #cookie run oc #fankid #fanchild #vanilla lily cookie #that name will likely change #but I don’t know what to #help #I know I’m probably overthinking things but screw it I’m sticking with this #Vanilly and Sunflower can’t be the same person #purelily

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misswynters · 7 months ago

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Cookie Chaos

featuring. husband! sylus and wife! reader

There was a scent of cinnamon and nutmeg that filled the kitchen, mingling with the holiday music playing softly in the background. The twins, with their small aprons adorned with tiny snowflakes, stood on stools next to the counter, their eager hands reaching for flour and sugar. Their giggles echoed through the room, a sweet melody of joy as they worked under your supervision to bake cookies for the holiday party. You leaned against the kitchen island, watching the scene unfold, the corners of your mouth twitching as you fought to contain your laughter.

Sylus stood at the stove, his expression a mixture of exasperation and mild amusement as he stirred a pot of hot chocolate. “Sweetie,” he muttered, glancing at you with a pointed look, “are you sure this was a good idea?” His voice was low and gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it that softened the scolding.

Before you could answer, one of the twins who were covered in a dusting of flour, grabbed the measuring cup with both hands and with their excitement, spilled half of it on the counter. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his teeth. “Careful,” he said, his tone steady but firm. “We’re supposed to be making cookies, not a disaster zone.”

“They’re doing fine,” you said, biting back a laugh as the other twin grabbed a fistful of sprinkles and tossed it into the air like confetti. A rainbow of tiny sugar dots rained down, landing on the counter and the floor. With the chaotic mess of the baking, Sylus carefully cleaned stovetop. Patience running thin.

However before Sylus could protest, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallway. Kieran and Luke entered, their grins as mischievous as ever. “What’s this?” Kieran asked, leaning against the doorframe. “A baking party without us? That’s just rude.”

Luke’s sharp eyes scanned the scene, taking in the twins’ messy but enthusiastic efforts. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” he said dryly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

Sylus groaned, setting the spoon down with a clatter. “No. Absolutely not. You two are not—”

“Too late!” Kieran interrupted, rolling up his sleeves as he strode toward the counter. “We’re already here, might as well help.”

“‘Help,’” Sylus repeated, his tone heavy with skepticism as he crossed his arms. “The last time you two ‘helped,’ the kitchen smelled like burnt sugar for a week.”

Luke shrugged, already picking up a rolling pin. “That’s what happens when you experiment with caramel,” he said matter-of-factly, ignoring Sylus’s glare.

The twins, thrilled by the new additions to their team, clapped their hands and cheered. “Uncle Kieran! Uncle Luke! Look, we’re making cookies!”

Kieran leaned down, his face level with theirs, and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “How about we make the biggest cookie ever? Like, one the size of a plate.”

Sylus’s brows knit together as he straightened his posture, a looming figure of disapproval. “Absolutely not. Stick to the recipe.”

But Kieran was already pouring extra chocolate chips into the batter, much to the twins’ delight. Luke, ever the quieter instigator, grabbed another mixing bowl and began preparing a second batch, muttering something about “adding some flair.”

You couldn’t help it anymore; a laugh escaped you, as you leaned back against the counter. Sylus shot you a look, one brow arched in mock indignation. “Sweetie, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” you said, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of your eye. “But you’ve got to admit, this is pretty entertaining.”

“Entertaining isn’t the word I’d use,” he muttered, his gaze shifting back to Kieran, who was now attempting to juggle eggs to impress the twins. One egg slipped from his grasp, landing with a splat on the floor.

Sylus inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he grabbed a towel to clean up the mess. “Kieran,” he said, his voice calm but edged with warning, “if you don’t stop acting like a circus act, you’re banned from the kitchen. Permanently.”

Kieran grinned, unrepentant. “Relax, Sylus. It’s the holidays. Live a little.”

Luke, meanwhile, had somehow managed to get powdered sugar on his shirt, his usually impeccable demeanor slightly disheveled. “This is why I don’t cook,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint smile on his lips as one of the twins handed him a cookie cutter shaped like a star.

The kitchen became a flurry of activity, with the twins shouting out instructions, Kieran making exaggerated declarations about being the “best baker in the galaxy,” and Luke quietly fixing whatever chaos his brother caused. You watched it all with a full heart, your gaze drifting to Sylus, who was doing his best to keep everything from spiraling out of control.

Despite his grumbles and sighs, there was a softness to his movements as he leaned over to guide one of the twins’ hands while they rolled out dough. His large fingers enveloped their tiny ones, and his voice dropped to a gentle murmur as he explained how to press the cutter firmly into the dough.

“Like this,” he said, demonstrating with patience that belied his usual gruffness. The twin beamed up at him, their face glowing with pride as they successfully cut out a perfect snowman shape.

You caught his eye from across the room and smiled. “You’re a natural, you know.”

Sylus scoffed, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t start, sweetie.”

By the time the cookies were in the oven, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour dusted every surface, sprinkles crunched underfoot, and smudges of chocolate adorned everyone’s cheeks. Kieran had somehow managed to get frosting in his hair, and Luke was carefully peeling a sticky candy cane off his sleeve.

Sylus surveyed the chaos with a resigned sigh, his hands on his hips. “This is what happens when I let you two in here,” he said, his tone more tired than angry.

Kieran clapped him on the back. “Lighten up, Sylus. The kids had fun, didn’t they?”

The twins, now perched on stools, nodded vigorously. “It was the best day ever!” one of them declared, their face glowing with happiness.

Sylus’s expression softened as he looked at them, his annoyance melting away like snow under the sun. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “It was.”

As the cookies baked, the family gathered in the living room to wait. The twins, still buzzing with energy, sat on the rug and began sorting through cookie cutters, debating which ones were their favorites. Kieran sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, while Luke leaned against the armchair, his expression one of calm amusement.

You settled into the loveseat next to Sylus, leaning into his side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You’re too soft on them,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

“That’s because I know when to pick my battles,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that made your heart flutter. “I’ll never understand how you put up with all this chaos.”

“Because it’s our chaos,” you said, resting your head against his chest. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

When the timer dinged, signaling that the cookies were ready, the twins scrambled to the kitchen, dragging Kieran and Luke with them. Sylus followed at a slower pace, his hand resting on your lower back as you walked together.

The cookies, which were golden and abit deformed, was proof of the day’s chaotic and messy effort. As everyone gathered around to taste them, the twins’ laughter rang out, filling the room with warmth. Sylus took a bite and nodded approvingly. “Not bad,” he admitted, earning cheers from the twins.

As the evening wore on and the mess was slowly cleaned, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. And as Sylus wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close for a brief but tender kiss, you knew he felt the same. The cookies will definitely not be taken to the holiday party, maybe you would stop by the store to buy some.

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teapartyprincess4two · 1 year ago

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Parenthood- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of Y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Matt has a son and a daughter in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of dad!Matt.

Parenthood- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

—

☆SFW

From the moment Matt met you, he knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children. Both of your children were received with so much love and joy, but Matt still had to learn how to navigate being a boy dad and a girl dad.

☆ Your firstborn is a boy and Matt can’t contain the excitement he feels when he first finds out.

☆ He’s overprotective of you throughout the entire pregnancy, ready to take care of your every need.

☆ Your son is hyper, rambunctious, curious and a force to be reckoned with. He barges into the room with so much energy balled up into his small figure that he’s bouncing off the walls.

☆ When your daughter is born, she’s the complete opposite of your son. She’s calm, quiet, and docile.

☆ It takes Matt some time to adjust to having a baby girl, but as soon as he gets in the groove of it he can’t remember what life was like before having a daughter.

☆ Matt’s playing soccer outside with your son, playing pirates, boxing, and building elaborate Lego sets with him.

☆ “No dad! We’re pirates! We have to steal all the gold!” your son explains, adjusting his make-shift eyepatch.

☆ “I thought we were ninjas?!” Matt’s out of breath, running after a fast toddler was extremely tiring.

☆ “No! We just beat the ninjas! They tried sneaking onto the ship, remember?” Your son’s imagination was too fast for Matt to keep up with.

☆ “Argh matey,” Matt replies, ready to continue with the game.

☆ But when your daughter wants attention he’s playing dress up, attending a tea party, getting his nails and makeup done, and talking to all her stuffed animals.

☆ “Daddy Miss Twinkle is mad at you for eating her cookies!” your daughter whispers, almost like she’s gossiping.

☆ Matt has lost track over which stuffed animal is which, but he’s assuming Miss Twinkle is the unicorn across from him.

☆ “I’m sorry Miss Twinkle,” he apologizes, shaking the toy’s hand.

☆ “Dad that was Lady Unicorn. Miss Twinkle is the teddy bear in the pink dress,” your daughter slaps her forehead. “Oops,” he laughs, taking a fake sip of tea.

☆ Matt has learned to be silly, fatherhood softening him and allowing him to abandon all embarrassment.

☆ “What are you wearing?” you laugh, Matt’s serious face adding to the comedy of the situation.

☆ He’s fully decked out in a pizza costume, trying to make your children laugh. “I’m a piece of pizza,” he replies goofily, putting on his best Italian accent.

☆ “You’re so silly daddy,” your son giggles. In his eyes, Matt is the funniest person on the planet.

☆ Your daughter is not as amused, but she smiles nonetheless.

☆ Matt loves doing domestic things with his little family. He’ll randomly pull out a baking sheet, all the ingredients to make cookies, and throw on an apron.

☆ “You’re doing so good, baby,” he coos, watching as your daughter throws an entire, uncracked egg into the mixing bowl. He wasn’t going to use that batch, but the words of encouragement have her smiling.

☆ Children fight all the time, especially when they’re siblings, and your kids are no exception. The year age gap doesn’t help either, so you’ll often find your kids bickering over the smallest things.

☆ “It’s not your turn to play, though!” your son attempts to reason, yanking the controller out of his sisters hands.

☆ “You played all day bozo!” she replies, sticking her tongue out at him.

☆ Matt hears the fight from his room, reluctantly getting up from his comfortable spot on his bed and walking over to where his children are.

☆ “What’s going on?” he asks, arms crossed and a displeased look etched on his face.

☆ “She’s being so annoying, dad!” your son exclaims, and before Matt knows it his kids are pushing, slapping, and punching each other.

☆ “HEY! BEHAVE!” Matt pulls them off of each other, scolding them both without favoritism. He goes on to lecture them about the importance of siblings and doesn’t leave until they hug and make up.

☆ Matt’s entire camera roll is filled with videos and pictures of his kids. Kindergarten ceremonies, family vacations, first haircuts, candid photos; all of it is being documented by Matt at all times.

☆ If he’s ever away from home for a long time, he’s scrolling through his gallery and reminiscing on all his memories with his babies.

☆ Your son is obsessed with video games, something that he and Matt bond over. And although your daughter isn’t as invested, she’s still really good at them.

☆ Mortal Kombat is a game they all play and enjoy together.

☆ “Move over and watch the queen play,” your daughter jokes, taking the controller from Matt after watching him lose time and time again to her brother.

☆ “Yeah, you wish you could beat me,” your son scoffs, readying up for another round.

☆ Your daughter chooses a girly character, which has your son rolling his eyes, but as soon as the round begins he can’t get a single hit in.

☆ Matt is in shock at her level of expertise, she was using combos he didn’t even know about.

☆ “Okay my turn against you, babygirl,” Matt takes the controller from his son, ready to play all night long if he has to.

☆ Having teenagers is hard and tiring, Matt feels like he ages 10 years in just one day with the amount of stress his kids cause him.

☆ Your daughter’s brain is suddenly occupied with nothing but boys and your son is starting to take girls on dates.

☆ “That skirt is too short,” you warn your daughter.

☆ “It is not,” she fights back, genuinely finding nothing wrong with her provocative outfit.

☆ Matt doesn’t have to say anything, one stern look has her trudging back upstairs to change.

☆ “Dad can I borrow the car?” your son asks nervously, avoiding Matt’s eyes at all costs.

☆ “For?” Matt’s not stupid, he knows what teenagers do.

☆ “Nothing, just hanging with some friends,” your son replies, but it doesn’t take long for Matt to get the truth out of him.

☆ Overall, fatherhood has been extremely rewarding for Matt. He sees it in the way his children love and look out for each other and what a great mom you are.

☆ “I love you guys so much,” Matt gushes, pulling the three of you in for a group hug.

☆ “Dad stop being weird,” your son groans, your daughter seconds his statement, but they don’t pull away from the hug.

☆NSFW

Having two children can take up a lot of personal time, especially when your daughter needs you and your son needs Matt. There’s never really any time for you and Matt to just exist as a couple, but he works hard to make sure you feel special everyday.

☆ You’re cooking lunch, the pure domesticity of your actions being enough to turn Matt on.

☆ The kids are still at school and if he’s convincing enough, you’ll abandon whatever’s on the stove and let him please you.

☆ Sneaky arms are wrapping around your waist, rocking you back and forth to the beat of the music that plays lowly in the background.

☆ Matt’s lips find your neck, your head falling back onto his shoulder in pleasure.

☆ Before you know it, you’re bent over the kitchen counter and Matt’s balls deep in you. “Take it,” he grunts, his hands gripping your waist so tight there were sure to be bruises.

☆ The food on the stove burns and you end up ordering pizza.

☆ When the kids are old enough, you and Matt leave them at home alone while you run errands.

☆ Something as simple as a quick trip to the grocery store turns into heated, passionate car sex.

☆ The windows are foggy and the car rocks with each thrust, Matt’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you ride him in the front seat.

☆ “You’re so fucking sexy,” he grunts, falling more in love with you as you whimper out his name. It doesn’t take long for him to finish, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

☆ Most times you two just do it in the shower. It’s sweet and full of so much love.

☆ He’ll fuck you against the cold tile wall before scrubbing your back and washing your hair you.

☆ It’s the sweet moments like this that both of you cherish. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the warm water running down both your faces. “I love you too,” you reply with a smile, going in for a passionate kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: can I hear some commotion for dad Matt🎤

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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quietplace26 · 1 month ago

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Part 2 of the Furina!MC in a SAGAU au idea!

Notes: I wrote this because I was super stressed at work. So, I MIGHT be continuing this... Also, the Creator will be known simply as C now, and I'm trying to keep them gender neutral.

Even after a few weeks, Furina!MC could immediately tell C was still confused by her.

She kinda figured that would happen, cause going by most SAGAU fics, C was most likely someone from the real world. Her old world.

Someone that knew the plot and characters of the game really well.

And Furina!MC was acting very out of character not even counting she was living out in the middle of nowhere.

So, after some thinking, she sat them down and told them the truth.

Cause trust goes both ways, yes?

"... You're not Furina?"

Furina!MC nods, handing C another cookie as they stared at her in shocked, slowly nibbling on the treat.

"Yep. Woke up in this body around 500 years ago."

Furina!MC smiles bitterly, looking away from her friend's eyes.

"It... it wasn't pleasant. Focalors wasn't exactly... kind, and it wasn't like I could tell anyone..."

"...What about Neuvillette-"

"No." Furina!MC cut them off. "No... I just- I couldn't do it. After seeing Focalors' sacrifice, he has positive view on her, adding on that he..."

Furina!MC lets out a shuddering breath. "He thinks I'm still the same spoiled, bratty Goddess he had to work with for 400 years..."

"When the prophecy was avoided, I got out of Fontaine as quick as posible. Not only to avoid all those painful memories... but also... because of our current situation..."

Furina!MC gestures vaguely to C, getting her point across when they nodded wearily.

The SAGAU situation. This all around cult mess.

"I had to act like I worshipped you, because I was too afraid to find out what would happen if I didn't... And when Neuvillette showed the same behavior as the others, I knew I could never say anything to him..."

"So... I... damn it, when I was free, I ran. I... I wasn't going to get involve with the fake Creator, the hunt, or you."

Furina!MC sniffed, bringing up her knees to bury her face into them, too scared to look at the C's face.

"I k-know I should've stuck around when the fake Creator showed up and said something, anything... But I'm just ONE person. I'm not even an Archon anymore, just a normal, weak human. No one would've listened...and I just wanted to be safe for once..."

A moment of silence, then Furina!MC feels her friend sit beside her and hugs her.

"...It's fine. I don't hold it against you."

"But-"

"500 years is a long time to be alone in a hell like this... I don't blame you for not saying anything or running away... Because, well, you still helped me, yeah?"

C cups her face, rubbing her tears away and they grin.

"We have each other now, and besides, us Earthlings need to stick together!"

Furina!MC giggles at their words, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Earthlings? Really?"

And just like that, laughter filled Furina!MC tiny cabin.

Eventually the 2 tuckered themselves out and curled up together on the couch, cuddling.

It was something C noticed the first time they hugged Furina!MC. Their friend was touched starved.

They themselves weren't any better with the months of being on the run, but Furina!MC's was on a whole another level.

Considering with the way she talked about her 500 years as Furina... She probably never once got a positive touch in all those years.

So, when C hugged her... She herself broke down crying and latched on with similar hysterics.

C frowns, gently brushing some Furina!MC's hair from her face.

Their friend deserved better. They deserved better. The Genshin characters they once loved... They took and took and took from them...

And it was all because of this 'Creator' mess, and the fact a false one sat on a throne that by all right theirs.

C's face darkens.

They were the chosen Creator of this SAGAU au, right? They had the golden blood, they could feel Teyvat's emotions and such.

It's what led them to Furina!MC after all.

The winds whispered for them to go towards this forest in Fontaine, the trees hummed around them, leading through a maze of greenery, and they come across a tiny cabin.

This. This was where they could be safe. The person inside that tiny cabin was safe.

They never told Furina!MC about any of this.

They thought it would creep her out, and they didn't want to scare away possible the only person that was not only kind but could understand them.

Furina!MC was someone precious. She's been through hell and back, and yet, no one bother to notice she was in pain.

Just like C themselves. The Genshin characters refused to see what was in front of their eyes because they were stuck deep in the ways.

Ways that to them, were right, and only right.

C knew this couldn't continue.

While they were perfectly fine with staying with Furina!MC in her tiny cabin, far away from the chaos.

C knew they couldn't.

They would take back their rightful place as CREATOR. They would kick that fake out. They would make sure the Genshin characters knew how much they fucked up.

But most of all?

They'll create a safe place for them... and Furina!MC.

#genshin impact #furina!mc au #sagau #sagau cult au

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