#anyway for my first time doing something like this I’m proud of how it came out

[dearratboii]

This is completely different from my usual content, in fact I’ve never made an edit like this before, and I don’t keep up with genshin at all,, but ough this lady could’ve been so fucking fine but they missed the mark yet again

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

[candy-rat]

☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧

♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader

♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!

☆ Warnings: None!

(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must) 

★ A/N:  I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.

♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3

+Barely Proof read

It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.

Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.

As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.

Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?

As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.

The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.

You were met with the sight of a boy.

Not just any boy.

Percy Jackson.

With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?

“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.

“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.

To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.

The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.

“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.

Another moment of silence.

“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.

You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.

It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?

“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.

“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.

“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.

“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.

“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.

“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.

You looked at your bow and back at Percy.

You wonder exactly why he asked you.

Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.

That’s a nice thought.

“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.

“You don’t?!” He replied.

“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.

Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.

The day went on.

Percy missed the target completely most times.

But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.

You were happy to even spend time with him.

“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.

He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.

“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.

“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.

Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.

“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.

“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.

“About what?”

“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.

“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.

“Really?!” Percy added.

“Yeah really.” You confirmed.

“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.

The two of you got along perfectly.

Like a puzzle piece.

You definitely had a crush on him.

He might like you back.

Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.

And maybe that’s good.

Love takes time.

Especially puppy love.

A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more      (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3

[enwoso]

CHANGED — arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing  silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

[formulawolff]

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.” 

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure. 

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake! 

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.” 

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo. 

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.” 

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will. 

“where is dad? is he asleep?” 

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan? 

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?” 

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers? 

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.” 

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel. 

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.” 

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks. 

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.” 

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you. 

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent. 

fuck, were you homesick. 

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time. 

you always did when it came to your parents. 

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion. 

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen. 

you had to make that happen. 

you had to. 

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top. 

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home. 

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home. 

this man was billionaire, after all. 

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text. 

from none other than toto wolff. 

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door. 

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter. 

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you. 

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival) 

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers. 

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race. 

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair.. 

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind. 

a crisp knock rang out, startling you. 

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting. 

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy. 

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull. 

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears. 

this was really happening. 

you were really staying with toto. 

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.” 

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness. 

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries. 

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual. 

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows. 

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up. 

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest. 

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?” 

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll. 

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?” 

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.  

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold. 

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay. 

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you. 

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there. 

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back. 

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind. 

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole. 

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress. 

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back. 

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you? 

downright filthy. sinful, even 

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on. 

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread. 

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him. 

god, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark. 

you were so fucking beautiful. 

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come. 

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

could this moment last forever? 

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god. 

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure. 

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you. 

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words. 

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you. 

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through. 

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching. 

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia. 

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth. 

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two. 

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god. 

oh, fuck. 

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space. 

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure. 

you unravel, coming undone. 

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out. 

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple. 

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent. 

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks. 

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.” 

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring. 

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.” 

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot. 

well, not so little these days. 

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?” 

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat. 

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears. 

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision. 

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts. 

“i’m right, aren’t i?” 

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head. 

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?” 

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings? 

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper. 

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm. 

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?” 

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished. 

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision. 

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision. 

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

you were finally going to be by his side every day. 

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel. 

he had you. 

you were all his now. 

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[haikyu-mp4]

My friend, the smiley

word count; 914 – gn!reader, @makkir0ll had this idea for a manager!reader n it was too good

“That’s great, Kageyama!” the photographer yelled out, and you clutched your clipboard to your chest with a proud smile. Kageyama had been hired for a skincare commercial, and you were the lucky manager tasked with joining him to make sure everything ran smoothly.

They had him wearing a pastel-coloured cotton shirt, which brightened his complexion considerably as he stared casually at the camera or wherever he was instructed to look. The photographer eventually put the camera down to look over this batch of photos, and a stylist waved Kageyama over for an outfit change. This time it was a white t-shirt that stopped at a very flattering point for his bicep. You tried not to eye him too much as he just changed tops right there in the middle of the room, so used to changing volleyball uniform in front of whoever stood close by anyway.

Then he walked up to you, and you quickly smoothed out any wrinkles until you realised you were also stroking a bit too obviously over his muscles, so you quickly pulled your hand back. “Sounds like you’re doing great,” you encouraged him, holding up his water bottle.

He thanked you and took a sip before answering. “I guess I’m great at looking places,” he said, and despite the lack of hint in his voice, you knew him well enough to understand that it was a joke and chuckled under your breath in response.

“I suppose being ranked one of the most handsome volleyball players from Japan means something,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows, which made him blush slightly and look away from you.

“Let’s get a round of smiling photos!” the director announced, and Kageyama’s gaze snapped back to you, both of you staring at the other with wide eyes.

“I’m not great at that!” he whisper-yelled just as the stylist came over to pull him back to the shoot and fix his hair. Kageyama glanced at you nervously over his shoulder before eventually settling on the little wooden chair in front of the pastel pink sheet.

“You can do this,” you mouthed and signed with two thumbs up. He seemed to gulp before looking at the camera, and a certain wave of dread fell over you at the smile he came up with. Not great.

The director made a weird sound, obviously hesitant and trying to be polite. “Maybe a… more relaxed… smile?” she suggested.

Kageyama nodded sharply and sighed, before going right back to that same smile, except it was a bit more crooked as he tried to relax at the same time. You put a hand to your forehead, shaking your head for a moment before walking up behind the photographer. The director didn’t seem pleased to have you there, so you bowed politely and cleared your throat.

“May I talk to him for a second?” you asked. When she nodded you spared no time in walking over to your player, standing close enough that the others in the room might not hear.

“Is it that bad?” he asked, and you almost melted from those blue eyes. He looked so innocent sometimes.

“No! Just… you know how it was with the Olympic posters,” you said first, waiting for him to hum in confirmation. “Why don’t you think of something that usually makes you smile? Like playing with Hinata?” you suggested, and he so desperately wanted to give you good results that he just agreed to that right away.

“I can try that,” he told you. You walked back to your place and watched with hopeful eyes as Kageyama seemed to be thinking of something. Then a small smile fell on his lips that slowly grew wider, and suddenly he was looking at the camera with sharp eyes and a devilish grin. You pursed your lips, thinking not quite like that, Tobio.

Before you got to say anything, the photographer made a comment of “no teeth,” so Kageyama listened and only closed his lips without adjusting anything else. That made his cheeks look laughably strained.

Even though the non-smiling pictures came out great and not being able to smile like they wanted was in no way breaking the contract, you wanted him to build a good reputation for commercials.

If only you could think of a good way to make him smile normally. You’d seen it before, the way he smiled when Ushijima really slammed the ball and thanked him for a perfect set, or the way he smiled when you two had time to talk about your lives outside of work.

You hurriedly whispered his name, making some stylists who stood around chuckle at you, but when you finally caught his eye, you could see his shoulders visibly relax. With an uncertain smile, you started doing the little dance you had told him you learned in an amateur class last week. He had asked you to show him some time, to which you had run away with flushed cheeks and a poor excuse of going back to work.

He had no clue what you were doing, but looking at you make such a fool of yourself for him while he clearly heard someone laugh at you, made him smile so genuinely, and the camera was suddenly clicking consecutively. The director closed her eyes for a moment, praying some of the pictures came out good and telling Kageyama to at least remember to hold up the product.

A lovesick puppy smile also sells products, I suppose.

masterlist

[metalhoops]

Steve was used to climbing out windows. Before his junior year, he’d made a habit of entering through and escaping from girls' houses unnoticed. He was stealthy. He’d learned how to scale trees and tread lightly across roof shingles with the deftness of a nocturnal animal. Yet, for the first time, he found himself escaping his own home. There was a first time for everything, right? 

Steve’s parents were home. The second Steve saw the familiar BMW pull into the Harrington’s driveway, he knew he wanted to be anywhere but home. His parents were only palatable when he had good news, but all he had to tell them was that after their last visit, The Mall had burnt down and he’d gotten a new job at a video store. He really was doing the family proud. He didn’t want to deal with it, not today. 

That’s how he found himself crawling out his bedroom window, shimmying across the guttering and trying not to sprain his ankles as he dropped onto the lawn. He headed out back, past his pool and into the woods. Usually, it was the last place you’d find Steve. He kept expecting to run into a Demogorgon or something equally as nasty. 

He walked for a while without direction, trudging through the underbrush until the rustling of leaves behind him set his teeth on edge. His body moved before his mind had time to keep up. He spun on his heels, hand scrabbling to the forest floor in search of a weapon. It supplied him with a fallen tree branch, almost too large to heft comfortably, but he did it, running on adrenaline. He came face to face with a familiar, wide-eyed boy. 

“Holy shit, Harrington. Take it down like ten notches,” the boy grumbled, showing his upturned hands as though trying to calm a startled animal. 

Hawkins was a small town, the kind of place where everybody knew everybody. Steve knew the boy with deep brown eyes and dark hair, halloed by fallen leaves, was none other than Eddie Munson, or as he was colloquially known, ‘The Freak’. They’d gone to high school together. He thought the guy was due to repeat his senior year, again. He didn’t know what he was doing alone in the woods. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

You couldn’t blame him for being on high alert. Even if Eddie was someone he’d grown up with, that didn’t make him safe. Steve was still riled up after running down Billy Hargrove with his car. He was paranoid. He’d had a rough couple of years. 

“Collecting sticks,” Eddie breathed, indicating the large bundle in his hand. 

“Collecting sticks?” Steve echoed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t fathom why the guy was doing it.

“Yeah, I’m making a miniature log cabin for my D&D campaign, and you know, miniature logs are just... sticks—you don’t care, anyway. Sorry for startling you, my liege.” Steve tilted his head, thinking the acronym was familiar. 

“Is that the dragon game, with the Demogorgon and junk?” Eddie looked at Steve like he’d sprouted a third head.

“How the hell do you, Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, know what D&D is?” 

Steve wished people would stop calling him that. Every time he heard the stupid nickname it felt like someone was rubbing chunks of asphalt into his gravel rash. He wondered if Eddie felt the same about his title. 

The old Steve would’ve used it just to spite the guy, to see what buttons he could push, not because he wanted to but because it was expected of him. It wasn’t an excuse. He knew that. Instead, Steve shrugged his shoulders and told the truth, something the old Steve never would’ve done.

“I babysit some nerds who play it,” he confessed. 

Eddie looked at Steve in wonder. He was puzzled, amazed and, for once, a little intrigued. He’d never looked at Steve like that back in high school. The two rarely crossed paths and when they did, they never spoke. Sure, Eddie ranted about ‘jocks’ as a whole, but Steve had always just been one piece of a puzzle. It would seem redundant to yell at a patch of blue and grey for being a picture of the sky. 

“Why did you need to take up a babysitting gig?” 

To answer that, Steve had to embellish a little. Maybe he no longer liked lying about who he was, but he couldn’t exactly dump the cosmic mind fuck that was The Upside Down on some unsuspecting guy. 

“I needed money.” 

“You needed money? What, did you get cut off?” Steve shrugged in response. 

“Christ, what did you do? Piss in a family urn? Trash the house? Get a girl pregnant?” Eddie questioned.

“I think generally existing was enough to do it,” Steve mumbled, kicking at the dirt beneath his shoes. 

Eddie let out a low whistle. 

“Hey Harrington, think fast,” Eddie called, throwing the bundle of twigs in his direction. Steve dropped the branch and grabbed the bundle with wide eyes. 

“What was that for?” Steve choked. 

“What are you doing in this neck of the woods, anyway?” Eddie asked instead of responding. Steve shrugged, still cradling the bundle to his chest. 

“Avoiding my parents.” 

“You got any plans for the rest of the day?” Eddie spoke. Steve responded with a shake of his head. 

“Well, you know, this really is a two-person job, so if you wanted to come back to my place, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 

For some reason, Steve agreed. 

Eddie had a habit of collecting strays. 

There was the cat he’d kept under the bed when he was six and the gathering of stray dogs that hung around the back of the trailer park that he’d been feeding for as long as he could remember. The same theory applied to people. He made friends with the loners, the weird kids, the ones with wide eyes and nowhere to go. He was a bleeding heart, so sue him. However, he’d never expected Steve Harrington to trigger his urge to protect and befriend. That really hit Eddie out of left field. 

Never in Eddie’s wildest dreams did he imagine he and Steve would be sitting across from each other at his small dining table, Steve’s knee pressed on the inside of Eddie’s thigh. The jock’s still hands held small bits of twigs in place as Eddie worked around him with his hot glue gun. The guy had seemed so lost, back in the woods, so unlike how Eddie remembered him. He knew about D&D for Christ’s sake. Eddie wondered if he’d woken up in an alternate universe because it seemed like Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. 

He asked Eddie about his goddamn log cabin, tavern. Then he’d pushed deeper. ‘Why do you need a bar in a game about dragons’? To which Eddie explained, of course, you do more than just fight dragons, which appeared to be news to Steve. Besides his friends, no one showed interest in Eddie’s ‘stupid little fantasy game’. With Steve, questions came thick and fast. Eddie loved every second of it. When he’d asked why Steve cared so much, the guy had shrugged his shoulders and muttered,

“I might be able to impress the kids.” 

Eddie decided to ask about ‘the kids’. He and Steve didn’t have much in common. Sure, the two could commiserate about high school together, but neither man was in the mood to do that. And god, Steve could talk about ‘the kids’. 

“I run a D&D club called Hellfire. If they’re starting high school this year, send ‘em my way. I’ll tuck your little ducklings under my wing. Keep the big scary jocks away from ‘em,” Eddie noted, feeling comfortable enough with Steve to take a jab at him. Steve surprised him again by snorting out a laugh.

“Make sure you do. That Jason kid’s a senior, right? Total psychopath. The kid would peg basketballs at pigeons.” 

By the time the sun set, the boys were in stitches and had a fairly decent log cabin to show for a day’s work. Eddie was surprised that the idea of Steve leaving set a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, Steve? We should do this again,” Eddie proposed, and Steve was too quick to agree. 

“I have work tomorrow morning, but how about the afternoon?” 

Eddie hadn’t expected the guy to be as keen as he felt. 

“It’s a date,” Eddie agreed, before promptly wanting to shove his head through a miniature log cabin. A date? Really, Munson? 

A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his too-tight jeans. Mind out of the gutter, Munson. You were doing so well. 

“You’re weird, you know that?” Steve remarked, running his hand through his trademark hair, and yeah, Eddie should’ve expected that. 

Now Steve was going to call him a Freak, the ‘King Steve’, he’d heard about would make an appearance and Eddie would be glad he dodged a bullet by cutting his crush off at the knees before it had the chance to grow legs. 

“Weird is good,” Steve corrected, seeming aware of Eddie’s inner turmoil. 

“One thing I’ve learnt about myself since high school is that I like weird.”

Oh, no. Eddie was so gone for Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. 

Read Part 2

[writingwithciara]

Missed Goal ~Quinn Hughes~

summary: after the devils beat the canucks, quinn returns to his apartment, where his roommate has a plan to cheer him up

word count: 2.3k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

notes: I feel so bad that quinn didn’t score a goal in the game against his brothers. Like my heart physically hurts just thinking about. My poor baby ☹ Anyways, I think there’s a touch of anxiety speak closer to the end but that’s pretty much it for triggers/warnings

masterlist

“Are you sure you can’t come to the game tonight?” Quinn asked his roommate as he rushed around their apartment, grabbing his gear. He looked up at her and waited for a response.

“I really wish I could but I have to work tonight. Sorry, Quinn.” y/n looked at her roommate and smiled. “But I will be watching from here and I’ll be cheering for you. You’re going to do amazing tonight.”

“I really appreciate that. Thanks.” He looked at his bag and then back up to y/n. “It’s not going to be the same without you there, but at least I know you’ll be cheering for me here.”

“I’d cheer for you anywhere. And that’s a promise.” y/n smiled and walked over to him, extending her pinky. He wrapped his pinky around hers and placed a kiss on it. It was a simple gesture. One they did before every single game.

“When I get home tonight, we can celebrate. Win or lose.”

“You’re going to win, Quinn.” y/n smiled at her best friend. “You may be playing against both of your brothers and they may be great but you’re better. You got this, Hughes. Now go and dominate those Devils.”

“Thank you for being you.” He grabbed his bag and walked out the door. Y/n went to her computer and began doing her work tasks.

A few hours later, she turned the game on and abandoned her work to cheer for Quinn. When Jack scored during the first period, she cheered. She wanted to be happy for the boys but whenever something good happened, it was never Quinn. Jack scored, Luke scored and it seemed like every other player got a goal except Quinn. He did get an assist but that didn’t make y/n happy. Instead, she felt extremely bad for him.

Every time the camera would cut to him, he would look defeated and that broke y/n’s heart. It was bad enough he always felt somewhat inferior to his brothers when it came to hockey, but for the commentators (and even some fans) to constantly point that out, was a little upsetting. She knew he would be upset when he got back home so she decided she would make him feel better.

She ordered his favorite food, knowing he’d be hungry when he got back, and she set out some relaxation options for him to choose from. All of his favorite ways to wind down after a game. As she admired her work, she hadn’t realized how long it actually took to set it up until the front door opened and she heard the keys hit the table.

“Hey. I’m home.”

Y/n walked out of Quinn’s room and when she saw him, her heart felt like it was barely hanging together. His hair was a mess and it was hard to tell but it looked like he got dressed in a hurry and that his shirt was inside out.

“Hey.” y/n stepped closer to him as he ran his hands through his hair for what was probably the millionth time since the game ended an hour ago. “I saw the game.”

“I was kind of hoping you didn’t.” he chuckled lightly.

“And why is that?”

“I didn’t want you to see how much I messed up tonight. I don’t ever want to disappoint you or make you regret cheering for me.” He sighed and collapsed on the couch. Y/n sat next to him and pushed him to continue. “I feel like I should be playing better this year but I’m not. And maybe that’s because I know Luke and Jack are better players and it’s terrifying.”

“Quinn, you didn’t mess up tonight. And even if you did, I would still be proud of you.” She looked at him and smiled kindly. It was the smile that always brought him back when he got lost in his own head. “Jack and Luke may be good players, but they only got that way from watching you do what you do. You’re an amazing player and an even better big brother.” She looked at him again and noticed he was focused on her words. She also noticed how hard he was trying to hold all his emotions in. “I ordered from your favorite restaurant so let’s eat and once you’ve got a little bit of energy back, we can talk, okay?”

“Oh, you’re the best.” Quinn smiled a little as he reached for the takeout containers. As they ate, the faint sound of the tv playing in the background seemed to relax Quinn a little bit but  y/n could tell he was still stressed. When he finished, Quinn put the empty container on the table and looked over at the girl sitting next to him. “Have I ever told you much I appreciate you? Because it’s really true.”

“You have told me a few times before but really, it’s the least I could do. I mean, you’re allowing me to live with you for pretty much free so being the best roommate I can be is what I’m doing in return.”

“You know, I honestly thank god for bringing you into my life.” Quinn admitted.

“You should thank Jack because if he hadn’t come up to me at the beach that one time when we were 8 years old, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, either way, I’m beyond grateful that you’re here and that you’ve been here for so long.”

“Awe, Quinn. You’re gonna make me cry.” y/n smiled and touched his arm gently. The action made him get a little nervous suddenly. When she removed her hand, he felt heat where it had been. Suddenly, everything felt different. The atmosphere became warm and intense but Quinn couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “So, anyway, I have some options to help you relax. Go in your room and pick out whatever it is you want and I’ll make it happen.”

Quinn got up and quickly walked to his room. As he looked at each options carefully, he thought about everything y/n has ever done for him. She has put him first in every possible situation and she’s always there when he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knows exactly what’s going on in his mind at all times. They’re connected in a way that is unexplainable. She is the only one he knows he can come to when he’s feeling the stress and pressure of his career and he knows that she can easily lift all the worries away, even with a simple smile. Suddenly, it clicked. He was falling in love with her.

He picked up the bath stuff and walked back out to the living room, where y/n was busy cleaning up.

“So, how will you be relaxing tonight, Quinn?”

“I’m gonna take a nice hot bubble bath and think about some things.” He smiled and headed towards the bathroom. “Thank you.”

While he did his thing in the bathroom, y/n figured she would set up a mini movie night for after his bath. She popped some popcorn, set out some other snacks and put out a few drinks. She even queued up one of his favorite movie. Monster’s Inc. She knew he would enjoy something light-hearted and fun to finish off the night.

After nearly an hour of Quinn being in the bath, y/n started to get worried. She walked over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.

“Quinn, you alright in there?”

“Yeah. I’m doing alright.” He chuckled from behind her. She turned around and Quinn was walking out of his bedroom and was in the middle of putting his shirt on. Y/n found herself staring at his body and the way his muscles flexed as the shirt went over his head and over his torso.

“I, um, got a movie all set up and ready for you to enjoy. I know how you like your alone time so I’ll just be in my room, finishing up something for work.”

“No. I want you to enjoy the movie with me. I had plenty of alone time in the car on the way to and from the game, plus that time in the bathroom. I think after the night I’ve had I would really love the company. Especially if it’s your company.” He mentally cringed at the last comment but when he looked at y/n, she was sporting a big smile.

“Well, in that case, I would be honored to be your movie buddy tonight.” She guided him back to the living room and started the movie.

About halfway through the movie, y/n glanced over at Quinn and he looked like he was lost in his head again. She paused the movie and softly placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently playing with the hair that was there. He closed his eyes and thought about the calmness her touch brought him.

“What’s on your mind, Cap?”

“Be honest with me, alright?” he looked at her and when she nodded silently, he closed his eyes and continued to speak. “Am I actually a good player? Or do people just like me because of my brothers? Is Jack a better hockey player than I am? Is Luke?”

“In my honest opinion, I think people love you because you’re incredibly good at what you do, not because of your brothers. You have a kind heart and I love getting able to see that loving side of you every day. People might like Jack better because he’s good looking and they might like Luke better because he’s just adorable. But you wanna know what I think? I think you’re one of the best damn players the NHL has ever had. You’re not a perfect player, but nobody is. Not only that, but you are kind, funny, smart, loving, caring and just perfect in pretty much every sense of the word, Quinn. Some people may not like you, but who cares? You have so many more fans than anyone can count. And your biggest fan? Well she’s sitting on the couch with you, reassuring you that you have no reason to worry. She ditched her work responsibilities to watch you play against your brothers and her heart broke whenever the camera showed that you were upset. She is your biggest cheerleader and wants you to know that she would never favor your brothers over you. Your biggest fan loves you a lot, Quinn. More than you could ever know.” y/n moved her hand from the back of his neck to his arm. He looked at her to search her eyes for any sign that she was lying but he couldn’t find any.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

“I love you.” He looked at his hands nervously. He had never told a girl he loved her before and now here he was, spilling his soul to his best friend. It made him worry that she would reject the idea. But when she began to run her hand up and down his arm, he felt better about his confession. “And I want you to know that I have never said those words to a girl before so this is new for me.” He took the chance to look at her and when he saw her smile, he knew he needed to get everything out. “I’m not sure when I started feeling this way but I honestly think the feeling has always been lingering in my heart. You have always been by my side and even though Jack is the reason we met, I love that you always preferred me over him. You are the one person in my life who has never loved my brothers more than me, and I love you even more for it. I love you and everything about you, y/n. You make me feel so much better, even on the gloomiest days. The ones where I don’t want to talk to anyone and stay in my room.  Those are my favorite days because even though I say I don’t want to talk to anybody, you always find a way around that and you cheer me up with absolutely no effort. And living here with you these last few years, watching the amount of guys that would stay for a night and be gone by morning, killed me. I didn’t know why at the time, but now I’m sure of it. Y/n, I’m really in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t say a word. Instead, she grinned and moved to straddle his lap. She didn’t break eye contact once. “I’m in love with you too, Hughes.”

And with that being said, their lips met in the middle and fit together perfectly. With each passing second, the intensity behind the kiss kept on growing. Years of feelings being poured out into one simple action. When y/n’s lips parted, Quinn took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, eliciting a small moan from the girl on his lap. He placed his hands on her back and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. His large hands found their way under her shirt and rested on her waist while hers were tangled in his now extremely messy hair.

“Is it bad that all I wanna do is stay in this position for the rest of my life?” Quinn asked when they finally took a moment to breathe.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” y/n pulled him in for another intensely passionate kiss.

All 3 of the Hughes brothers ended up scoring that night.

-----

taglist: @worldlxvlys @jackquinnswife

[poeticpascal]

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went. 

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him. 

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).” 

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down. 

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him. 

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky. 

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.” 

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones.  You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again. 

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you. 

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss. 

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands. 

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked. 

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness. 

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants. 

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet. 

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap. 

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips. 

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh. 

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance. 

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-” 

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it. 

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars. 

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl. 

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear. 

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-” 

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up. 

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest. 

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

[sukunas-wife]

YOU NEED TO MAKE MORE DAD!SUKUNA😭 It’s just soo good!!!, I’m literally obsessed with Dad!sukuna🫶🏻

lol here’s a little snippet to start the day, in other words I had a domestic dream 🥺🤍

Jujutsu Teacher Sukuna AU

Somewhere in another time line Sukuna became a not so dedicated teacher at Jujutsu high school still after having turned himself into a curse, even 1000 years he landed a spot on the higher up’s board it hilarious when they try to execute someone and he completely disagrees.

They learned quickly is Sukuna disapproves of their actions agree with arrimen Sukuna. Don’t go behind his back and try to do it either. He’s not afraid to kill everyone and replace the entire board of Higher Ups

Then one year he met you, you came in from the sister school to be teacher. Usually he tried not to mess with staff they only last so long anyways. But maybe it was that time he saw you banging your head in the drink machine because you used your last bills to buy a drink and it got stuck. Or maybe it was that time Gojo and Toji surprisingly decided to team up against you and you managed to hold your own.

It was when YOU started to pursUE HIM he became really intrigued. At first he became annoyed because not to far behind the corner he could hear the snickering and “Oh she’s really doing it!” “She’s a brave woman to try and flirt with him…” “What are you idiots do- oh, this could be interesting.” “shhh, I can’t hear what he’s saying!”

You didn’t notice when he flicked his wrist, but you did hear your coworkers panic and the rushed steps. Looking back confused you were more confused when you looked back at Sukuna and he was leaning forward getting face to face with you before squishing your face in one of his hands. “You do understand you proud Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live very long, so give me one good reason you want my attention.”

You wanted to badly to look away from those demanding red eyes, to pull away and breath the God given air, instead here you were getting dazed off his musk and cologne. Feeling his warm hand squish your face, nails lightly pressing against your skin. Smash- swallowing you had one chance to do this right. Don’t stutter, don’t fear, breath, don’t rush, don’t show him WEAKNESS.

“I J- ahem” ah.. I messed up already, “Wait let me restart- Okay I’m ready, I’m not gonna stand here and promise happiness smiles and endless love, praise and worship. I’m not gonna lie to your face and tell you everything you want to hear and pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows. When I go on a mission I’m not gonna say I promise to always come back that would be a fools move. But at least in my last moments I’d have to privilege to remember you and all those wise words you used to tell me like. “Dumbass that’s why you keep more than two dollars in your wallet.” Or “Living to please others and dying with regrets if no helping everyone is vain, Live to please yourself at least in your final moments you’ll have some sense of fulfillment.” So like it or not I’m here to please myself if you say No and tell me to fuck off and send me on my way. I won’t regret having asking. If you say yes, well I won’t lie I wouldn’t really know what to do or say I came in expected to be rejected and humbled.” Finally your eyes left his, you were oblivious to stare he had. He wasn’t completely amused but he wasn’t bored of your words either. “Look at me.” You did, “you didn’t bore me entirely with your little … speech so I’ll give you one opportunity. Sunday, I have an early mission, meet me here at 4 in the morning and I’ll tell you with me. After I finish you can have the rest of my day or until I get bored.”

He didn’t get bored… it turned out you amused him so much more when you weren’t surrounded be suits.

And that’s how you ended up here.

“Yuji don’t say something stupid love can’t protect anyone.” Nobara rolled her eyes, “Yuh huh, your words can’t hurt me because my mom and dad’s love protects me.” He puffed his chest out crossing his arms and smiling with closed eyes, missing the book Nobara was throwing at him. A solid sound was made, Yuji was wide eyed, the all to familiar wrist holding the heavy book just in front of his face, “Careful Miss.Kugisaki it’d be a shame if you caught extra missions for disabling another student from completing his own.” Yuji smiled proudly, “See, protected.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Get to class Fushiguro was on your ass last time for being late to class.” He nodded his head at Yuji who just smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “Alright.” Of course the Trio ran past you greeting you with “Hi Mrs.Sukuna!” Good morning Mom!” “Morning Y/n Senpai.” You watched them all keep running until your husband stood next to you offering you the Coffee Cup he had been drinking. You were distracted by one thing “Why do you have our photo album?” Sukuna felt his eye twitch, “Damn brat.” Was all he mumbled tucking it under his shoulder, “Your son believes your love protects him.”

You laughed, “OUR son believes OUR love for him protects him. Considering your holding that book Im assuming Kugisaki tried to throw it at him or you were reminiscing on that time you had to save them from a Special Grade ambush and when you had to carry them all out Yuji was sniffling how he knew he could count on you to be there for him.”

He looked away, “Higher ups are lucky I only wiped out half of them.” You rested your head on his shoulder pulling the album from him. “Aaww this is Yuji’s baby album” you cooed seeing the picture of Sukuna holding Yuji next to a bouquet of “It’s a Boy!” Balloons. In the background you could see the blur of Geto smacking Gojo on the back of the head.

Sukuna is secure as a man and father 🥹

So it’s not a surprise to you when you come home late from the school and find true form Sukuna threatening to break the sofa under his weight coddling 15yo Yuji 🥹

As much of a brute people have him to be, Yuji might be his only son, and he might call him brat and roll his eyes a lot. But he’d be damned if he were truly a bad dad. In a whispered conversation he told you about everything that happened on Yuji’s mission. How the mission was purposely miss graded and they basically walked into a special grade curses domain. Sukuna had no doubt in his mind that if wouldn’t have been the one over seeing their mission the first years wouldn’t have walked back out alive.

Yuji was alright the entire ride but when he got home he broke down crying, speechless gasping for air. That’s when Sukuna pick him up carrying him over the sofa, coddling Yuji wasn’t as easy now that they were almost the same height, so he turned to his true form. And let Yuji cry, scream and hold onto him. Rubbing his back, holding his head against his shoulder, just talking to him to comfort him. “Do you remember that time we went to the park, and you wondered off to far chasing a duck.” Yuji nodded still sniffling, “Your mom was scared shitless when she couldn’t find you.” He laughed and Yuji laughed lightly, “y.. yeah I remember I jumped into the pond and then you and mom started screaming and then jumped in…” sukuna laughed louder, “Y/n was so mad but she couldn’t stay mad when she saw you with that little duck.” He patted Yuji’s back resting his chin on his head. Soon Yuji fell asleep.

It led you to find him this state. You asked him to go lay him in his bed, he did. He came to help you make some comfort food, it was hilarious when you asked if he could use dismantle on vegetables and it turned out he could. Now over the table in the wall is a sign that says “Malevolent Kitchen.”

The house that night was filled with the soft sounds of cooking, you and your husband talking about whatever came to mind. The Golden pot boiling with whatever broth you made. Sukuna was fighting the rice cooker while you tempura fried some shrimp and rolled some noodles to cook

It was well past 9 when you heard Yuji coming, both of you turning to see him walking yawning and rubbing his eyes. Bare feet padding along the kitchen floor. “Come sit down Yu you gotta be hungry.” you fixed him a large bowl of noodles with Tempura shrimp. On the side were the massive Onigiri Sukuna had made, he even tried to use the nori stamp to put little faces on them. More often than not they have 4 little crooked eyes that looked mad but it squeezed your heart how he laughed to himself saying “Yuji’s going to love these.”

He did, you watched as he bit into it rice sticking to his face. “These are good dad what did you fill them with?” “Nitamago we forgot to pack em for lunch so.. improvise I guess.” You both sat down with Yuji talking and eating. Just enjoying the free time you had together before Sukuna would go commit another crime against the higher ups 🤍🤍

Yeah 🥹

Im here 10-1 in the morning 🤍 It took all day to type this out 😭😭

Also a lot of my co workers walked out today 🥹 it was rough

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare

[thoughtsforsoob]

im thinking about y/n fucking CEO yeonjun for a raise

CEO!YEONJUN X F!READER

a/n: hello anon!! thank you for the ask :) I usually wouldn’t write something like this (because I’m a strong independent woman that has tons of self respect) but for yeonjun I’d do pretty much anything 🥰 that’s my man right there. Anyways, please enjoy!!

You had just graduated college not so long ago and you were finally out looking for a job! You managed to secure your first position at your first choice company, working as a software developer! you were so proud of yourself and you were happy to finally be able to be independent and support yourself. You had a small apartment and nice things in said apartment but sometimes, you wish you had a little more money to save and to use to go out with your friends once in a while. hence why, after about 6 months, you go in to have a netting with your boss: yeonjun.

you were nervous about this meeting for a few different reasons. Yeonjun was a really handsome individual. Like…so handsome that he border-lined sexy. How could you possibly think of your boss this way? That’s so wrong! You did your best to avoid him because everytime you spoke to him, your cheeks and ears would go bright red and he could see your shyness.

Now, you were stepping into his office after his receptionist said you could. You took a breath before opening the door and finally walked in. There he was, in his usual fancy work attire, looking sexy as always. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his usual black slacks. He never wore fancy shoes though, always opting for vans or converse that also came in black. That made him a little less intimidating but still, you were no less nervous to speak to him.

He smiled when he saw it was you and other you to take a seat. “Oh y/n, come on in. Take a seat! Would you like anything to drink?” You shake your head no and he looks at you still. “So, tell me what you’re in for today? Is everything alright around the office?” You look down at your hands and then up at him, “yeah, everything in the office is okay. I kinda needed to ask more of a personal question.” Yeonjun nods and you ask your question. “A raise? Well, you have been doing really well. You’re probably one of our best employees.” Your eyes go wide and you smile. “Really? Does that mean you’ll consider a raise? Even if it’s a small one. I kinda need it.” He looks at you and thinks for a second, “well, maybe I’ll consider if you do something for me.” You were curious as to what he wanted so you asked him and you were shocked to hear his answer. “Just have sex with me. I think you’re really beautiful. If you do it, I’ll give you a $10 raise.” Your eyes get bigger at his offer. A whole ten extra dollars an hour??? That would be plenty to save up for that new hand bag you wanted!

you usually had a little more self-respect than this but you couldn't help it. the offer was too good to pass up no matter what you had to do. thats how you find yourself bent over your bosses desk, skirt bunched up at your waist and panties pooling at your ankles. he's standing behind you, teasing you dripping slit with his erection. he's smirking and using his free hand to caress your ass. "so pretty. how did i not ask for this sooner?"

he finally decided to stop teasing and pushing himself inside of you. you whine at the sudden intrustion and he leans over, grabbing one of your hands and intertwing it with his. "its okay, sweet girl. no need to whine. it's not gonna hurt for long." he kisses your cheek and pulls back to his previous position. when you tell him it was okay to move, he finally starts to thrust. he goes gently the whole time and calls you such pretty names. "such a beautiful girl taking it so well. you like this, hmm? when a big, important man treats you nicely?"

he continues his movements until you starts whining to cum. "mm sir...please. wanna-" you were cut off by his groan. "sir? you called me sir? say it again." he sniffle from the tears falling from your eyes, "sir! please!" he groans again and leans over again, getting closer to your face. "cum for me, pretty. wanna see that gorgeous face." with his words, you were sent overthe edge and finally let go. you cry out at the euphoric feeling and yeonjun continues to thrust, pulling out when he's ready to cum. he pumps himself a few more times and cums all over your ass. he smirks when he sees his work.

when you're done, you attempt to put your clothes back on buthe stops you. "hey, what are you doing? let me take care of you." you were suprised by this and turned, "sir, are you sure? you don;t have to do that. i understand if you don't have time for me beyond this." he shakes his head and chuckles, "i don't just have sex with anyone. what if i liked you and wanted to take you on a date? what wold you say?" you look at his eyes and they were sincere. "mm fine. lets go on a date." he smiled and kissed your cheek.

once he finally cleans you up and dresses you once again, he escorts you out of his offce with a wink and his phone number now in your phone.

[bamboobooshark]

MOON BOYS X READER

₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER : 4.2K WRDS

A/N : Originally, my goal with these preferences was to try write more than 1k words. I ended up writing a lot more as you can tell by the word count! I’m really proud of myself for that to be honest. Anyway, here’s some preferences for staying at the Moon Boys’ flat for the first night after spending some time with them. Warning for a pinch of angst with Steven’s, anxiety with Marc’s, and badly written Spanish in Jake’s (sorry </3)

STEVEN GRANT .

You and Steven have been friends for a while now. Both of you moved into the same apartment building around the same week. With the agreement to make the most of it, the two of you decided you would meet up every evening after Steven’s shift to talk.

Sometimes you guys would simply talk and you’d give him a ride home since he didn’t have a license. Other times, you’d greet each other with the goofiest grins with the knowledge that you planned an outing or movie night together.

Earlier today, he came beaming to you at your guys’ usual hang-out spot about how a coworker of his asked him out. The stars were fresh in the sky, the sun only had set a little bit ago. The wind was getting his thick curls messier than they already had been from his long work day. He squinted while looking for you and immediately smiled when he found you. The last thing you would’ve expected was for him to tell you about going on a date with his coworker, let alone someone he barely knew.

He was doing his usual when he was excited; talking with his hands, exaggerating his facial expressions, changing his tone with each little word.

As much as you were admiring him at that moment, it did wring your heart dry. Hearing him ramble about how excited, happy, and confident he was about this date felt like a stab in the chest. You didn’t know why.

You had never felt the need to stop him from doing something. Hell, you always encouraged Steven to follow his heart and do what he desired. At that moment, you were regretting it heavily. All the encouragement. All the praising. All the pep talks. All of it led up to him accepting a date with one of his damn coworkers.

“You alright? Got something bothering you, mate? Hello,” he had asked with concern. He stopped with the exaggeration for a second to check up on you. You couldn’t convince yourself that man didn’t have feelings for you. Yet, you shook your head no and shrugged your shoulders. You hated having to lie to him or try to shove your feelings to the side. “It’s nothing. Just happy for you! I can’t believe someone finally asked you out,” you explained to him with your hand on his bicep. It lingered there for a moment before slowly sliding down to his forearm, and wrist, and settling on his hand. His pulse was a little fast as you had felt it throb under your thumb. Both of you gave each other an unnecessarily long but welcomed gaze. His pulse quickened.

Steven got a bit flushed and instinctively pulled his hand out from under your palm. The bench beneath your hand was cold and wet from the rain earlier today. You were already missing the warmth of his flesh, but he was right fucking in front of you.

“Why does this hurt so bad,” you ask yourself now as you sit on your bed. You’ve been asking yourself this since you got back to your flat. You’re beating yourself up for thinking about him so much. “That bitch doesn’t even know him! I don’t know why she thinks she deserves a second of his time. She’s not nearly enough for him. She’s not good enough for him,” you growl to yourself in anger. Out of your rage, you start to do something that you never do unless Steven’s over. You grab some popcorn, slam it in the microwave, and impatiently get your couch ready for a movie marathon.

“I bet he only gave her a chance because she’s so far out of his league that he would’ve felt bad about rejecting her. Maybe Donna treats her better than she treats Steven so she’s using him to get some praise and maybe a promotion,” you mutter through gritted teeth while walking around your flat, tossing pillows and throwing blankets onto your couch.

Then comes a knock. You and Steven’s knock. The one that lets you two know you’re the one who’s knocking. Your rage pauses as you stand there in silence. “Hiya… The date didn’t go too well, just letting you know. I’ll be in my flat if you need me,” he explains to you before you hear him walk off. Your heart that was previously wrung of all concern for him as he explained the situation to you earlier soaked up his words like a sponge.

You internally debated what the best thing to do would be. However, your brain interrupts itself when the microwave begins beeping. A groan leaves your lips as you shuffle over to grab the popcorn. You hold the bag in your hands before realizing that this is the solution. This was what would help Steven feel better. A movie marathon together. You and him alone, cuddled up on the couch, snacking on popcorn, making the dumbest comments as you both watch.

You take no time throwing on your pajamas, grabbing your phone, and getting anything else you need while the popcorn cools on the counter. It almost falls on the floor when you try to grab it the first time, but you thankfully catch it. You run out your door, walk a few feet, and knock on Steven’s. “Steven, can we have a movie night together? Please,” you plead. You know he can be a bit selfless sometimes, but you need him to know you’re concerned about him right now. No excuses, no lies. “I just wanna do something to cheer you up. You sounded so sad when you were at my door earlier. I’m sorry for not answering. I’m here for you now,” you anxiously ramble before his figure greets you. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt. Don’t have work tomorrow either,” he comments as the slightest smile begins to creep onto his face.

The two of you let out a deep sigh once you’re settled on his bed. He explained he didn’t want to sit on the couch because he wanted to be comfortable. Feeling pity for him, you quickly accepted his request for you guys to get cozy under his covers.

“There we go! Much better, yeah,” he asks while looking at you. Despite Steven’s flat being dark aside from his laptop screen, his eyes seem to be softer. His gaze reminds you of the moment you shared earlier. His flesh getting warmer. His pulse throbbed quicker under your touch.

“Now, let me just get my computer going,” he murmurs, pulling you out of your memories. You smile back at him and nod softly. A soft giggle leaves your lips as he awkwardly pushes it to you. As much as a nerd he is, he’s never been tech-savvy. You quickly start up the movie while Steven moves back and forth on his thighs. Once it loads, you push the computer in front of you two and pull the covers over your lap.

In due time, you and Steven finally cuddle against each other. Your knees are tucked up under your stomach with your shins pressed against his thighs. Your arms loosely circle his hips while one of his hands is settled on your waist. Your head rests against his bicep. The only sounds that fill his flat are the movie’s audio, sheets ruffling, wind whistling against the window and the sound of deep breathing.

“I wanna let you know I’m sorry for ignoring my feelings,” Steven starts. You don’t look up at him but still display a confused expression on your face. “I love you. I have loved you. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he says. You can feel his skin begin to heat. Before he can start to verbally apologize and insist he didn’t mean it, you let him know what you’ve wanted to say for a while. “I love you too, Steven,” you assure him. You lean forward, pressing yourself against his thigh and torso to give his lips a soft and gentle kiss. He kisses you back with the same loving energy. It’s a back-and-forth of soft pecks and lingering kisses before both of you grow too tired to continue. You fall asleep with your limbs tangled with one another’s, finally at peace with your feelings for each other.

MARC SPECTOR .

Anxious. If there was one word to describe Marc Spector when he’s around you, it would be anxious. Sweaty palms, clammy hands, flickering gaze, and an inability to be still. He started acting this way when both of you had a conversation about your mutual feelings.

It’s been almost a month since that conversation. Now the two of you sat at the warm, homey restaurant that wasn’t too far from his flat. Marc’s gaze was pitiful. He looked at you with his big, brown eyes that were all glossy from the reflection of the light.

“You look amazing tonight, love,” he told you tenderly. Your cheeks warm before you attempt to return the compliment. “And I could say the same. You always look so good no matter what you wear,” you beamed.

He reached his hand on top of the table, beckoning your own to join his. You chuckle softly and put your palm against his. His fingers make their way under your hand until they meet his thumb to carefully wrap around yours. He slowly runs his thumb against the soft flesh between two of your fingers. You sigh at the gentle gesture. Even before the shared confession, Marc was always prone to being gentle with you, whether it was his words or his actions.

Both of your eyes shared the same sight. A warm meal in front of you, the light from the inside of the restaurant shining perfectly onto your lover’s face, and the most welcoming hand lovingly wrapped around your own. None of this felt real. This must’ve been what Marc felt like all the time; terrified that this was just a dream or a hallucination. Luckily both of those anxieties were false. Neither of you had anything to worry about. Both of you were real and both of you were here to stay with each other.

After a few minutes of admiration and silence, you slip your hand away from his so you can both begin to eat. Hums and quiet groans of satisfaction leave your lips. Despite the restaurant not being a main chain, it had some of the best damn food you’ve ever eaten. It doesn’t even take you two hours to finish your meals. You and Marc have decided that you’ll each pay half if the two of you plan a date together, rather than on your own. He holds your hand while you walk over to the side of the street, hailing a taxi for you two.

Now the two of you are at his apartment complex. You immediately notice his anxious mannerisms getting more apparent. “Is something wrong, Marc,” you ask sweetly, not wanting to assume anything. “Yeah. I’m fine, darling,” he assured you, nervously biting his bottom lip. You squeeze his hand a bit to remind him that you love him. He squeezes back with a bit more force.

The elevator takes you up to his floor. He fumbles with his keys as you guys make your way to his flat. “Give me a second,” he mutters while fumbling with his key ring. He gets the key in and takes a deep breath before turning it to open the door. His expression tells you that his mind is racing with unwelcome thoughts. “Come on in,” he says hesitantly while motioning you to go in as he takes the key from the lock.

You’re somewhat confused. Marc had never let you come over to his flat. You assumed that his mental illness caused his place to be a bit of a wreck, maybe he found the state of it embarrassing, or he simply liked being at your place more. Your brows furrow as you take in the area. It isn’t nearly as bad as you expected it to be. Sure the whole flat has papers and books scattered across it, but not in a way that makes it look like a mess. However, Marc quickly objects to your internal dialogue as if he could read your mind.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I know it’s a mess. I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to clean up before we just spontaneously planned our date tonight,” he groaned wearily, running a hand through his hair. “Marc, don’t say that. Your flat is just about as messy as mine. Plus, I don’t expect you to have a picture-perfect place! You live here. It’ll get a little messy from day-to-day life,” you told him with a soft smile. You set down the bag you’d brought to stay the night before walking over to him. Your arms encircled his waist and rested at the small of his back. His muscles tensed in response to your touch. You leaned your head to press your face against his chest. “I promise it’s fine. I already feel at home,” you hummed while adding a bit of pressure to your embrace. He sighed deeply before giving in to your reassurance. He nodded his head in agreement and returned the gentle gesture. His arms reached from his sides to your neck, one hand tracing circles on your shoulder blade while the other rubbed the back of your head. He tilted your head up from his chest and smiled. “There’s that stunning face I love so much,” he cooed softly before kissing your forehead. “Do you ever stop,” you tease while cocking your head to the side. “What? Loving you? Never,” he replied before giving you a quick squeeze.

The next few minutes are the most soothing and peaceful you’ve had in a long time. The way Marc holds you feels so protective and safe. Your shared body warmth helps both of you melt into each other. His heart beats heavily in his chest while you press your bodies together. A soft, slow sway is shared between you. Heavy breathing, quiet mumbles of only the most tender words, hands fiddling with the fabric of the other’s clothes.

“You ready for bed yet, baby,” he asks softly, leaning forward to whisper to you. He gently kisses your neck while awaiting your answer. Your hand reaches up to play with his dark curls and you begin to hum with satisfaction from the kisses. “Mm. I guess,” you drag out in a sigh. “Let’s get you to bed then,” he mumbles. Before leading you to his bed, Marc smiles against your neck, giving the soft skin a small nip.

You manage to maneuver over to his bed as he continues to stay glued to you. He turns you around and flops back on his bed, pulling you on top of him securely. You let out a bit of a yell when he does that. He pulls his arms tighter around your waist and kisses the nape of your neck. “Fuck. That feels so good,” he groans. This man loves having you close, having you lay on him, smelling you, sweet things like that. However, they all came from a deep-rooted fear of losing you or that you’re simply a hallucination. So any time he convinces, or forces, you to lay on top of him, he is in utter bliss.

You start to get a little antsy in his grasp. His arms hold you tightly, but you still tilt side to side. “Marc! You can let me go now,” you exclaim playfully. He grunts in disagreement. “I’m not letting you go.” You sigh softly before moving all of your weight to one side. As expected his arms stay around your waist. He was insistent on not letting you go.

“You win,” you groan softly. He moves his body so he can rest his head on the crook of your neck. “I know, darling. Now we can go to sleep since we have that settled,” he hums against your skin. Both of you fall asleep entangled with each other. His arms stay around your waist like a harness as your hands lay on top of his.

JAKE LOCKLEY .

You and Jake had a date arranged. It was more of him planning a surprise for you and you agreeing to it. Nonetheless, you were intensely excited.

As he requested, you packed a bag to stay the night at his place and had your pajamas on. It was a bit suspicious. You had high hopes that he wasn’t going to attempt to take you somewhere in the state you're in right now. You’ve continually had a habit of doing one or two little things just to make sure you felt attractive. As you thought about how Jake loved to fuck around with you, he never did it in a publicly humiliating way. The idea was swift to flee your mind as briefly as it came.

You hear a hard and heavy knock on your door that made you gasp. That was definitely him. The way he’d knock so harshly never failed to get a reaction out of you. You shake your head in disapproval while moving to grab your bag. “I’ll be there in a second, Jake,” you shout to him. “Hurry up, precioso! I want to see that face I’ve missed so much,” he weeps almost childishly. You roll your eyes at his pouting while hauling your bag to your door. You open it and snicker to yourself. He was wearing his pajama just like you were. He definitely had a good plan for the two of you.

“There’s my favorite cabbie,” you beam, your hands quickly reaching to his face. His stubble prickles your hand and presses harder against it when he smiles lovingly at you, his teeth displayed just for his lover. You cant help but smile back at him with the same amount of love on your lips. Your thumbs rub along his cheekbone before you lean forward to kiss him. He hums against your lips before both of you pull back. You move your hands from his stubble inhabited face, down to his chest. His own hand move to rest on your hips, treating them like handles for his hands to hold on to. “I guess you beat me to our little kiss this time. I bet you a back rub that I’ll get you first next time, cariño,” he promised you playfully. You knew he would because he stayed true to his word when it came to you. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t challenge his words. “Sure you will,” you replied.

He led you to his taxi, smiling and rambling about his little surprise the whole way there. You loved the way the would talk to you when you didn’t give him any feedback. You could swear on your life that if you never spoke again, he would still find some way to keep talking to you. Once the two of you reached his taxi, he dramatically cleared his throat. “Don’t even try, ángel,” he quips with the assumption that you would try to open the door for yourself like you did last time, which ended in a horribly long lecture about how you deserve to be treated like royalty. You feign disappointment as he politely walks you to the passenger side of the car. Before your hand can even reach the handle in attempts to mess with him, he grabs your hand and clicks his tongue at you. “Dios mío,” he mutters before opening the door for you. “Now you can get in,” he says while motioning for you to enter the car. Just to make Jake sure that you won’t keep playing with him, you gently hold his free hand so you can safely step into the vehicle without tripping. “Safety first,” he hums before grabbing the seatbelt and buckling you in. He leans down to kiss your cheek before shutting the door. He enters the driver’s side rather quickly as if he’s in a rush. “Let’s get going,” he says happily as he begins driving his taxi.

During the drive to wherever Jake is taking you, he keeps asking you question after question. “How was your day?” “Did work go well for you?” “You remember that I love you, right, mi vida?” You groan, chuckle, sigh, give any reaction you can to his questions. “Jake! Enough with the questions,” you tease as you softly nudge his arm. “I’ve told you anything you could ask about me. I swear you’ve got enough information to write a biography on me,” you continue with a playful smile. “Okay, okay, my apologies, precioso,” he chuckles in response to your teasing before he parks in front of a tall building. “But there’s one more question I have to ask you. I promise it’s the last one for now,” he swears while holding your hand for a genuine effect. “Wanna have a sleepover,” he asks with that same goofy grin on his face from earlier. He smiles so hard and hopefully that his mustache pushes up against his nose. “Please,” he asks sweetly while squeezing your hand. You return the happy expression and nod in agreement. That was his plan this whole time. Get you dressed up nice and cozy in your pajamas, drive you to his apartment at night on a route you haven’t been through before, and invite you to have a damn sleepover. God, you couldn’t get enough of this man and his stupidly tender ideas. “Yeah, we can have a sleepover,” you chuckle softly.

Once you two reach his flat he opens the door, like a gentleman of course, for you. You thank him with a kiss on the cheek that earns you a soft smile and a thanks of his own. “Where should I set my stuff,” you ask him awkwardly. “Give it here, hermoso,” he says, practically beaming at the idea of helping you once more. Without hesitation you hand the bag over to him. He takes it and sets it under his desk before sitting on his bed and waving you over with his arms. “Come on, doll. I’m not going to bite you,” he pouts before he begins to grasp the air like you’re just out of reach. You sigh at his whining and walk over to his bed with a smile.

He doesn’t even let you sit down before he clings to you. He pulls you between his legs by the waist as you stand in front of him, letting out a soft gasp when he does so. He slightly lifts your shirt up, just enough so your stomach is exposed. He sighs softly before leaning forward to press his face against it. “Muy bueno,” he purrs as he feels the warmth of your stomach heat his face. He hums with his cheek pressed to your stomach as his hands slide up and down the back of your thighs. You can’t do anything except bite the inside of your cheek and blush as he continues. “Tan bueno para mí,” he praises, emphasizing that it’s for him. “Jake,” you whine softly. He lets out a soft grunt in response. “I’d prefer if you let me lay down before I faint from how affectionate you’re being,” you plead to him. Out of respect for you, he sighs and releases you from his grasp. You ruffle his hair a bit before crawling under the covers and awaiting for him to do the same. He follows soon after, now looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes of his. He pulls you flush against him with his arms crossed behind your back. “You never said anything about not giving you affection while you lay down,” he says playfully while smiling. You’re already flushed again just by the idea. He shifts a bit further up along the bed so he can begin to shower you with love.

He starts at your forehead, pecking every inch of skin he can get. His hands crawl up from your shoulder blades to the back of your head so he can caress you loving and hold you in place. He moves to your cheeks and nose, hands coming to cup your face. He kisses from your left cheek, kisses your nose once before pausing for a moment to make some savory eye contact, then moves on to your right cheek. He pulls back for a second and you give each other a knowing look. “Please,” you whisper to him in a gentle tone. “Anything for you, mi corazón,” he mutters back. His hands come to cup your jaw on either side, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his other fingers lightly grasp the area behind your ears. He kisses your lips softly before pulling back. You give him a pitiful look before kissing him back. You keep going at it with each other, eventually letting the kisses linger for a few seconds, then adding your tongues into the mix. It’s a little messy, but it’s so tender. “I love you more than anything, mi vida. Anything,” he says to you before kissing you one last time, lips pressed to yours as if they’re a lifeline for him. You hum softly in satisfaction as he shifts your body for you, pressing your head to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. He traces shapes with his fingers and scratches your back gently until you’re asleep in his secure embrace.

[lovefoolholland]

about you - theodore nott x reader

summary: the train reminded theo of you. thestrals reminded theo of you. what did theo remember about you that wasn’t as heartwrenching? 

warnings: angst, a couple of lines from little women (greta gerwig’s movie) 

a/n: i can’t stop picturing theo as a the 1975 type of guy. like, he gives off matty healy’s vibes, you know? 

English is not my first language! 

The platform didn’t quite spark memories of you, but boy did the compartment he and his friends shared sparkle something.

“Theo!” exclaimed Pansy Parkinson, clearly confused by the looks on Theodore Nott’s face “Are you alright?” 

That was an understatement. 

“Indeed” he answered instead. 

“You don’t seem alright” Blaise inquired, and Pansy gave him a glance. 

“I’m just tired” Theo said, rolling his eyes. 

“Tired of spending all summer thinking of Y/N, I’m sure,” Draco’s voice spilled like venom, and Theo turned to look at him with a dark demeanor in his eyes “am I wrong?” 

“Shut up Draco” Pansy said, and then looked at Theo with an apologetic smile. 

“It’s fine,” Theo heard himself answer “but you’re incredibly wrong. Apparition always tires me.” 

No one mentioned Y/N again, but Theo could feel the tension in the air. 

The compartment reminded him of the smell of freshly baked cookies, and how – somehow – you always managed to smell like that. You’ve mentioned before that you’d stayed over at the Weasley’s for a couple of days before going back to school, but it had never occurred to him until later in the relationship that cookies were something Molly Weasley surely did the morning her children (and her friends’ children) left for Hogwarts. 

Now, he missed the smell and he missed having his head dipped into the top of your head while his arms tangled on yours as you read some boring book that had to do with the classes to come. 

“We’re here mate” said Blaise when everyone but him had gotten out of the compartment. 

“Thanks” he said, and watched as a bunch of students started walking towards the thestrals that always drove everyone to the castle. 

He didn’t find you in the crowd. 

He got up and got out of the train in order to get to the castle in no time. He didn’t want to keep depressing himself over his failed relationship and the memories everything in Hogwarts brought him upon with. 

At least not until he saw your wild hair waiting for a carriage. 

“Hey” he said, and you couldn’t help but jump in place once you saw him. 

“Oh, hi” your voice was as soft as the day he left you “, waiting for a thestral?” 

He stared at you for a solid minute, watching how you curved your hands in your robes and a shy blush creeped up your cheeks. He then nodded. 

“Yeah,” you nodded along “how long have you been here?” 

“Not that long” your voice came out squeaky, noticeably ashamed “I just got off the train. I fell asleep.” 

“What?” he asked, quite interested now “Why? Didn’t your friends wake you up or…?” 

“I was alone” you said, pulling your lips together. 

Of course you were. 

“Right,” he said, uncomfortable “we should probably start walking. 

“We should, yeah.” 

The two of you made your path down the castle in silence, both of you unconsciously thinking of the other. 

Theo remembered the first time he got on one of these carriages. He was incredibly nervous, and that’s when a girl with a bright smile sat next to him and started asking him questions. Just… Asking. She didn’t know about his nerves, if anything, she was interested in meeting new people and getting to know them. 

That girl was you. 

Four years later, during the Triwizard Tournament year, he had told you about the Yule Ball during your ride to the castle and had noticed the way your cheeks flushed when Draco mentioned he was going to ask Pansy to go with him, pretty proud of himself. 

Days later, he asked you, and you went together. 

Now it all seemed like a daydream, a cruel, plain daydream he had the day he told you he didn’t want a relationship with you anymore. How he told you that anyway or another, you were an obstacle in his life. 

How stupid of him. 

“How has your family been?” you asked, head tilting towards him. 

He frowned. 

“Father’s been pretty busy. And mother's portrait has been asking about you.” 

Of course he had to say that. 

He looks up to you to find a startled, yet satisfied expression on your face. He feels as if hot porridge has been spilled all over his face and neck because he knows he has turned red out of embarrassment. 

“Send them my greetings” you simply say before accelerating your pace “, come on, we’re going to be late for dinner.” 

“Wait, T/N,” the lights of the path leading to the school flick a little, and you stop in your tracks as he reaches to you “how have you been?” 

You open your mouth and then close it. It almost seems as if you want to tell him everything about your summer but… But you can’t. 

“Good,” you say, and start walking, slower this time, to the castle “my parents have been pretty busy too. The Ministry is going mad over the news of the return of You-Know-Who.” 

“Yes, of course,” he says, and then slightly smiles “did you stay at the Weasleys?”

He’s met with silence. You look at him with suspicion, and he notices. 

“What?” 

“What is the point of you asking these questions?” 

He scoffs. 

“Alright, sorry. I won’t be asking anything else.” 

“No, Theo– I mean, Theodore,” your breath hitches in your throat “it doesn’t bother me. At all. You know it never will.” 

He knows what you’re asking. 

But why? 

As the two of you step into the entrance of the castle and Flitwick tells you to register yourselves, Theo realizes why. 

“I’ve missed you” he confesses, and notices you try to evade his eyes “, Y/N–”

You take a sharp breath before speaking. 

“Stop it,” she says, and he notices the tears forming on your eyes “Theo, you’re being mean.” 

“Mean?” he asks, eyes narrowing. 

“Yes, mean” you emphasize in the word, and suddenly the two of you find yourselves right at the doors of the Great Hall. 

Theo realizes neither has the intention of going in. 

“I’m telling you how I feel, I don’t see how that’s mean.” 

“No,” you say again, and now inevitably make eye contact. He instantly regrets, you’re on the verge of tears “you don’t get to say this, not after hurting me so much.” 

“Y/N…” 

“Not when I haven’t forgotten about you, not completely” you hiss, and take a step back. 

Theo’s mind runs wild. 

“You haven’t forgotten about me?” 

The choice of words amuses him. How can you forget all that you’ve been through? From sleeping in each other’s arms on the train to the sight of you wearing captivating robes to the Yule Ball, dancing until the last song ran out. 

“No, okay? I’ve tried, and I’ve tried, and I’ve tried, but I can’t” you say, tears sprinting down your cheeks as they turn red “I miss you on the train, I miss your arms around me, and I never know what to think about but…” 

“You think about me” he finishes off, and takes a step towards you “, do you think I’ve forgotten about you?” 

He knows you know that’s impossible. 

You put your lips together tightly and look up at him with a frown. 

“No.” 

“That’s right,” he says, cupping your cheeks with your hands. He cleans the tears with his thumb “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” 

You close your eyes once you feel his skin against yours. 

He silently dips his head and kisses your forehead. You still smell like freshly baked cookies. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You simply nod. 

He sighs and dips even more, sliding his hands against the back of your neck before kissing you more feverishly than before. Both of your heads spin as every student storms out of the Great Hall, and even a poltergeist calls you two out. 

“I will never forget you,” he assured you “all I can think about… Live about, is you. I’ve never stopped.” 

You smile and nod, opening your eyes and clenching him by the robes surrounding his body. 

“Never let go, Theodore Nott.”

[gayassbish]

Genshin Siblings’ Reactions to Their Sister Having a Girlfriend!

Genre: Fluff, slight crack, (minor Angst in Jean and Barbara’s part)

Reader: Female*

Characters: Ayato & Thoma with Ayaka, Lyney & Freminet with Lynnett, Jean with Barbara, and Extra! Aether with Lumine

Ayato & Thoma-

On a typical evening when Ayato was finishing his daily quota and Thoma was doing his last rounds around the residence, Ayaka boldly enters in, hand in hand with you.

Ayato immediately takes notice, wondering ‘who tf is this bitc-‘ Kidding, he’s just like ‘who are you?’ in his head. And Thoma smirks, as if he already knows something.

The thing is, Ayaka decided to come out to Ayato when she would eventually have a girlfriend to introduce to him.

So when Ayaka asks if the four of you could have dinner together, with her new “friend,” Ayato instantly thinks something is up. His main suspicions are that you ran away from home with your raggedy looking- But he is worried you’re either homeless or in danger. Not really thinking Ayaka wants to introduce a friend, not even taking notice of the way Ayaka looks at you, and not noting your body language around her.

After introductions, the four of y’all are sat around the square table (Kotatsu). Thoma brings a cake with writing saying, ‘Yay! You’re Gay,’ in frosting but it slips pass Ayato as he doesn’t take his eyes off you two.

Once Thoma sits down, Ayaka clears her throat and breaks the big news. “Okay… big brother please don’t be mad. I know you wanted me to remain single for the rest of my life and be lonely till the ends of time-“

Ayato interrupts, not happy with the accusation that is thrown at him. “What? What nonsense why would I want you to be alone? They would just have to be a sensible guy-“

“Ugh! would you let me finish?” Ayaka rolls her eye and interrupts her big brother back. Thoma gives you a soft smile, mouthing the words ‘You better get used to this.’ “Anyways.. like I was saying. I found someone and they’re not a guy so-” Ayaka turns to look at you and Ayato’s jaw drops.

“You’re not homeless?” Ayato exclaims, shock and surprise written on his face. Evidently, the news for Ayaka and you together hasn’t hit him yet.

“Ayato!” Thoma and Ayaka yell simultaneously, while you laugh. Ayato almost looks embarrassed at his words, but you chime in before he can say anything else stupid.

“No, but I am your sisters girlfriend if you’re okay with that…” You look to Ayaka and give her hand a squeeze. She’s been pretty nervous about this whole meeting and stressing about how her overprotective brother would take it. Therefore she came out to Thoma before hand and asked if he would be willing to help break the news to him.

Ayaka and Thoma eagerly eat up Ayato’s reaction. “So.. you won’t be pregnant right?”Ayato nods to himself. And everyone but him deadpans. “Yea, I’m okay with this. Why wouldn’t I be?” He smiles at y’all and watches how his sister gleams.

Ayaka runs over the table to give her brother a hugeee hug. “Oh my god! Ugh I can’t believe I was scared to tell you!.” Ayato gives his sister a hug back and she sits back down.

“Wait.. Thoma?” Ayato looks to the blonde who’s already laughing. “Did you-?”

“Know? Yea… look at the cake I made buddy.” Thoma points to the clearly rainbow colored cake. “It’s a fruit cake. To celebrate this fruity day.” Thoma explains all excited and quite proud of his work.

“Well I see that now.. gosh.” Ayato mumbles and digs in. He slices different pieces for everyone.

The rest of dinner ends in laughter and more of Ayato’s dumb questions. Like “how do women fu-“Where did you guys meet,” and “Who confessed first,” as both Ayato and Thoma anxiously hear your story.

P.S. Ayato’s biggest fear is that Ayaka would get swept up by some dead beat guy and boom hed become an uncle one day, so he’s really happy you’re here to prevent that hypothetical nonsense.

Lyney & Freminet-

When Lynnett calls her brothers out for a cup of tea, they immediately think something must be wrong.

After all, Lynnett never plans meetings. She doesn’t have too since they all live in the same house.

So they conspire with one another for the reason for this meeting on the way to the cafe. And when they enter the building and see their shy Lynnett laughing and giggling, sat next to someone… Lyney’s first thought is, ‘who is this clone of Lynnett?’ And Freminent looks as if he’s lost his marbles. After all, everyone that Lynnett knows, the brothers already know… well almost everyone, until you stringed along.

They both know that their sister likes women. So you being a girl is no surprise. Mainly because Lynnett’s not the most discrete about her likings. If she likes something, they’ll find herself in her own world staring at the object of her desire or find herself obsessed with it, like tea. (Actually I think that’s just a bRiTisH thing.)

Anywho, neither of the siblings have EVER seen Lynnett like this and their eyes immediately trace to the cause of her giddy behavior. You.

Lyney hesitates a minute before asking,“Uhhh Lynnett?” Lynnett turns to look at her twin, who wears a nervous smile. Lyney swears he feels a shiver down his spine, still not fully convinced the girl, who looks like an identical copy of him, is his sister. “Who that?” He points to you, so shocked he forgot his manners.

“Lyney! Don’t be rude! This is Y/N.” She turns to you, “my girlfriend.” Freminent’s shock didn’t show on his face until now, and Lyney is still in confusion. “I called the two of you here to introduce you guys since Y/N will be around more often.” She takes a sip of her cup of tea, “But that was it, so you guys can leave now.” She smiles and was about to continue talking to you as Lyney and Freminent both immediately pull up a chair.

“Waiter, two cinnamon teas please!” Lyney gets the worker’s attentions and turns back to Lynnett, “Oh we are soo here to stay.” Freminent nods vigorously in agreement and Lynnett sighs.

“Exactly! You can’t just introduce her to us and not tells us anything!” Freminent exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest as he huffs.

Lynnett warned you that they might not take the news too well. It’s been the three of them for god knows how long, and she didn’t think they’d be ready to see her get onto the next phase in her life with you.

But you told her this meeting would be good for the both of you. She wouldn’t have to be so cautious with you around the city anymore and could finally get rid of the rope she used for you climb through her window and meet her. Plus it was about high time her siblings knew about the two of y’all together.

“They have a point Lynnett. How can they accept us if they barley know me?” You look at her and she frowns. She just didn’t want to put you through the trouble of her brothers eating at your head :(. “Please,” You ask her earnestly and she sighs.

“Fine. Out with it you two. What do you want to know?” Lynnett glares at them, communicating with her eyes to not ask anything rude. “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” She whispers to you and you squeeze her hand in reassurance.

“Oh me first!” Lynnett raises his hand to beat Freminent who slides back into his seat. “Why do you love my sister?” He analyzes you, preparing what he will say if you give him a bad answer.

“Well..” The brothers lean in to hear your answer. “What’s there not to love?” You say with a small chuckle. “But if I had to pick some of my favorite things about her it would have to be… how she looks at me… and how she tries to make sure I’m always okay in her own way. But I think the thing I love the most about her… is her independence.” You look to Lynnett who’s already blushing.

Freminent and Lyney look at eachother and it’s as if they come to an understanding that maybe you really are right for her. They usually aren’t so quick to trust someone at face value with some words, but they know. Lynnett has a wall around people and doesn’t let it down around just anyone. They trust that their sister is good at figuring out people’s good intentions from wrong, and if she’s opened her heart to you. Then they trust her. They trust her judgement of you.

“Well, I’ll admit thats not a bad answer.” Lyney rumbles, rubbing his neck, not so happy with his defeat.

“But I have one last question.” Freminent asks and the attention turns to boy who’s remained mostly quiet throughout this discussion. “It’s a really important one.” He looks to both Lyney and Lynnett, and it’s as if they both already know what he’s about to ask.

“Of course. Ask anything. I’m an open book.” You say with a calm smile.

Freminent takes a deep breath, “If you want to be a part of this family then… do you promise that no matter what you hear… or what you learn.. you’ll try to see things from our side?” All three of them look eagerly towards you.

Lynnett has told you seldom about her life outside of magic, but you know in your heart that no matter what, Lynnett will always be someone you cannot live without.

“We all have a story don’t we? …When you trust me enough to tell me yours, I know that no matter what I hear or see… I will wait for however long it takes to hear that story before coming to any sort of judgement.” You say softly, looking at them all and see the brothers tense figures lighten. When you turn back to Lynnett, her eyes tell you everything you need to know and how touched she is.

“Well shit.” Lyney says. “Welcome to the family.” He exclaims, and their drinks have arrived. The rest of the lunch continues with the exchanging of stories from embarrassing moments Lynnett’s had as a child to great epic moments of the high time in their careers. Though they don’t talk anymore about their past, you know when the time is right the occasion will come. :)

P.S. POV: You actually infiltrated their family to learn their magic tricks >:)

Jean-

When Jean patrols Mondstat’s forests for any lurking danger, she sees her sister sitting next to someone on dock of the lake. Their legs dangling and feet touching the water. She was about to walk up to say hi until she sees her sister kiss the person next to her.

Jean drops her sword and a loud thud startles both you and Barbara as the two of you turn around to look at the cause of the sound, only to find the shocked expression of the Acting Grand Master.

“Sister!” Barbara looks as if she’s seen a ghost and gets up to run to her.

“Wait Barbara your shoes-“ You get cut off by Jean running away and Barbra chasing after her.

You sigh, grabbing Barbara’s shoes and wearing yours, while following the shouting of the ladies. You even pick up Jean’s sword that she’s left on the floor.

You and Barbara haven’t been together for very long, but you’re both serious about each other. However, every time you would mention if it’s time to introduce each other to one another’s family, Barbara would avoid the topic. You later learned it was cause Barbara’s sister is extremely overprotective of her.

And it makes sense after all. Barbara has been known to have stalkers and crazy fans (IFHY ALBERT). You yourself know how naive Barbara can be at times and how she doesn’t really take the best care of herself. After all, most of the time you’re picking up after her.

You find the sisters deep into the forest. Barbara sitting down on a rock, her pale feet covered in mud and gunk. And Jean pacing back and forth with a hand messing up her pony tail.

“I can’t believe you went behind my back!” Jean shouts. “A girlfriend? Seriously Barbara? Do you think you’re mature enough to be in a relationship? Do you think that girl is trustworthy?” Jean turns to her sister.

“How dare you! Y/N is a great partner and we’re doing really good! And I’ve learned so much being with her than I have before!…Gosh I knew you were going to react like this so I hid it from you.” Barbara continues the shouting, but then starts to weep and Jean sighs. Jean hates it when her sister cries. And she hates it even more when she’s the one who makes her sister cry.

“Oh Barbara, please don’t cry-“ Jean kneels down, about to wipe her tears.

“Tell me, is it just a thing in your family to leave your stuff everywhere?” You interrupt, and the stark difference in their reactions almost makes you laugh.

Barbara exclaims your name and runs up to give you a hug, while Jean stands back up and crosses her arms over her chest. She wears a furrowed brow on her face to match the tense body language.

“You got mud all over you.” You tell Barbara softly and Barbara giggles. Once she lets go of the hug, you kneel down to clean her feet with a cloth. You put her shoes on her as well, and when you stand back up, you’re met with a distraught look on Jean’s face. “Here. Your sword.” When you walked to her to hand it back to her, Jean looks even more lost.

Jean, for the past years, has been the one taking care of her sister all the time. And though what you did just now might seem small, Jean didn’t even notice her sister was walking around barefoot. ‘What if Barbara got a thron stuck in her foot and her whole leg got infected?’ She beats herself up about not noticing sooner.

“Thank you,” Jean speaks very softly. Almost as if she’s trying to counteract for her shouting earlier.

“Don’t mention it,” You give her a genuine smile. You get where the older sister is coming from after all. “Now, how do we resolve this?” You look at both the sisters.

Barbara walks closer to where you and Jean stand. “Jean… I know I’m asking a lot from you to accept us given how bad I can be at judging people… but I swear. I swear on Barbatos that Y/N is a good person.” She looks at you and you smile. You can’t help yourself but to pat her head.

“Jean, I know how worried you must be. You’ve just seen your little sister being affectionate with some random stranger… but I promise you that this random stranger.. will take even better care of Barbara than you have over the years.” You make a challenge to yourself at Jean and she finally loosens up.

Jean exhales deeply. And shakes her head at how she jumped to conclusions about you.“I will take you up on that.” She looks at Barbara and then at you and noticed how she hasn’t really seen Barbara this happy and free in a while. Being stressed AF runs in the their family and she tells herself that maybe you’re good for her Barbara. And that maybe it’s time to let her sister experience the world for herself, without Jean’s watchful eye. “But.. I think we’re all do for a shower and a proper dinner after. I have many questions.” You and Barbara agree, sticky from the lake and the humid air as the three you guys walk back.

But this time instead of someone running away from another, someone shouting, and someone crying, you guys walk together. This marks the new beginning of getting to know each other and the rest of your lives.

P.S. Even if Jean ended up accidentally slaying your ass out of anger, C6 Barbara would’ve brought you back <3

A/N: I did a Barbara version where Jean introduces you as her girlfriend but I second guessed myself thinking that might be weird after I did the Jean version… (._.)

Aether-

Aether doesn’t believe his sister got a partner before he did. Questions his rizz. The end ;)

Kidding, he doesn’t even know his sister has a girlfriend because he hasn’t found her-

A/N: How do people write traveller?? What even is their personality, like are they pretty? Yes. Do they speak? No. What do you guys go off of?? [・_・?]

11/08/2023

[zexapher]

Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days

They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.

The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.

You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.

This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).

Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.

The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.

Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.

Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.

Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Twelve | Azriel x Rhys' Little Sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You laughed as you walked through the forest with your mother and Michaa, your maid. Though, you almost could have believed she was your father’s bastard daughter. In another life, maybe she could have been your sister. You were on your way to meet Rhys, before continuing on to the War Camps to the north. 

You hated The Illyrians and their prejudice, but you loved your brother, Cassian, and Azirel. Although you weren’t sure if you’d see Az or Cass on this trip. It’d been too long since you’d laid eyes on them though, and you were aching to feel their arms around you. 

“How much further?” You groan, dropping your wings slightly, “Can’t we just fly?” 

“You know the winds are too strong today, my love,” your mother informs you softly, “I think we’d all father fly anyway, you know how much Michaa loves it.” 

The young woman only grinned and turned her eyes towards the sky. She was Illyrian too. Wings unclipped thanks to having been born in Valaris. Why she wasn’t in Illyria you weren’t sure, but you were glad to have her. Your life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without her by your side for all of the trouble you caused. 

You close your eyes for a moment and reach your power out, focusing on the soft shadows that lurked by the trees. You weren’t as good at commanding them as Azriel, but you had a small kernel of that power dwelling inside you. Something your father knew nothing about. 

I’m coming, you willed them to say. Before searching for their master. You felt his mental shields, just as strong and powerful as he. You stroked down those shields, gently, sensually. Begging for entrance to his mind. 

I’m in a meeting, his voice fills your mind. 

I plan on sneaking into your tent this weekend.

And you swear you can hear him groan. Not in frustration, but in wanting. You can feel it rippling through his mind. You smile down at your feet, heat rising in your cheeks. You knew the effect you had on him, just as he knew the effect he had on you. You were playing a dangerous game. 

Your father would likely kill Az if he ever found out. Which is why you had to get good at sneaking in the shadows, using them to conceal you from prying eyes. You were a quick study though, and was beginning to master the skill. Az was always proud of you when you manages it. 

Don’t get me in trouble today, he warns, although not sounding very convincing, I doubt the Lords would like it very much if I start smelling like I want you as badly as I do. 

You pause, nearly tripping over a fallen log. Your mother gives you a knowing smile, seeming to understand who you’re talking to. She only knew because she once caught Az sneaking out of your rooms just before dawn. Her and Rhys had been out flying all night and were just returning. She only smiled and turned around, wishing you both a goodnight as she went. 

I doubt my brother would like it very much. 

Minx. 

But you can hear the laugh in his voice. It fills your head and your chest, filling the void that always seems to be there when Azirel is not near. You rub your chest subconsciously, feeling that void a little more today knowing you’ll be seeing him in just a few short hours. 

“Rhys will winnow us to the camps, won’t he?” You ask your mother. 

“Yes dear, he’ll winnow you and Michaa first and then come back for me,” She tells you once more. 

I want everything with you, Az. 

I want it all too. 

You smile to yourself, knowing he meant it. If only your father wasn’t the male that he was, maybe you’d be allowed to follow your heart. Free to love whoever you wished. Not be sold for breeding when the time came. But you were still young, only eighteen. Marriage was still a good while away, thanks to your mother convincing him you still had growing up to do. She was right in some ways. 

“Pay attention to where you’re walking, Y/N,” your mother warned you, “Your Shadowsinger will still be there once we reach our meeting point.” 

You blush ferociously, heat flooding your cheeks so much that it radiated from them. Michaa smiled and let out a little laugh. She knew too, of course. You two sat up late most nights, when you weren’t out flying together, and talked about the Shadowsinger and just how wonderful he truly is. 

He’d seen such darkness already in his life, but yet his smile was still so beautiful it took your breath away. Sometimes that smile was reserved only for you. Sometimes you felt as if you were the only fae alive that got to see it, and you were okay with that. With the thought that he only smiled for you, and sometimes Cassian and Rhys. They were his bastard brothers after all. You were different though, you’d never seen him as a brother. From the moment you met him, as young as you were, you knew he was destined to be something else to you. You could already feel that strange tug in your chest, pulling you towards him. 

I’ll see you soon, you promise him, sending images of the two of you curled up together into his mind. 

You can practically feel him smiling against your skin, can practically feel him against you. You bite your lip, trying to regain control. But he seems to caress you in his mind, making you go weak in the knees. 

You pull away from his mind, noting how he seems to leave a small spot open just for you to return whenever you feel like it. You smile to yourself as you continue to walk. You wished you were strong enough to winnow more than one person, so you could just winnow to the camps and be done with this walking. 

But you weren’t far from the halfway point where you were supposed to meet Rhys. You would probably have to wait on him, seeing as he was apparently in the middle of training a new unit, but he would come for you one way or another. And he would take you to Azriel, whether he wanted to do so or not. 

But the shadows swirled around you as you reached a clearing. Your mother and Michaa falling silent. The whole world fell silent it seemed like. The shadows swirled, reaching your ears as you sniffed the air around you. 

Run, they said, run far and run fast. 

“Mother?” You question, smelling several distinctly male scents lingering in the air. 

She didn’t get the chance to reply before an arrow shot through her wings, causing her to scream out. You screamed too, seeing a flash of blonde hair in your vision, before arms came around you. Your wings vanished, too afraid of what might happen to them. But your mother, Cauldron, your mother’s wings. 

They grabbed Michaa next, holding a blade to her throat. You felt the cold steel kiss your own neck as lips caressed your ear. 

“Don’t scream,” He said into your ear, “Or I’ll slit your throat.” 

You swallow thickly. Fear gripping every part of you. You forgot the training Cassian and Rhys and Azirel drilled into you. Forgot that you weren’t a helpless little girl, that you had powers too. But all you could think of was the fear that gripped you and the smell of blood, your mother’s blood. And the realization that you were going to die, one way or another. 

You wake with a start, jolting up in your bed before hurtling yourself into the washroom nearby. You empty your stomach over and over again, before the sound of your bedroom door makes you stop. Cassian is by your side in an instant, rubbing your back. 

“I have them too,” He confirms, “Every night.” 

“I’m sorry I woke you,” You say softly, feeling the nausea fade. 

“I was already awake,” He sighs, sitting down on the floor across from you, leaning against the bath, “I heard you scream.” 

“It was that day,” You confide in him, “In the woods.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” He tells you slowly, “I don’t want you to have to relive it.” 

“I relive it every day. Everytime I close my eyes, it’s there.” 

His eyes soften at you. He reaches a hand out for you to take. He’d been too far away that day to get anywhere near you. He couldn’t have made it even if Rhys called for him. He didn’t know it happened until it was too late. He made it to the clearing not long after Azirel and Rhys, having flown as quickly as he possibly could. 

“It was Lucien,” You spoke after a long while, “I slept with Lucien.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” He replies softly, “You did what you had to do to survive.” 

“I did it to survive,” You agree, in your own way trying to convince yourself, “It kept Tamlin from darkening my door.” 

He sighs deeply, knowing you’d been through more than any of them. You watch as he gets to his feet, wings tucked in tight, and holds a hand out for you, “C’mon, let’s get you back in bed.”

You take his hand and allow him to pull you up before slowly walking you to your large bed. Big enough to accommodate wings, you realized. Big enough for more than one winged person. You had a lump in your throat, because once upon a time that was all you could’ve asked for. 

You climbed into your bed, allowing Cassian to pull the covers up over you before he walked to the other side and crawled in. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Not leaving you alone,” He said gruffly, curling his arms around your stomach and pulling you to him, “We all know you slept better when Az was in your bed, but seeing as he’s at The House of Wind, being an ass, I’ll just have to do.” 

You swallow and nod. Trying to fight the blush on your cheeks at his admission. You knew, of course, that he knew about you and Az. He hadn’t made his knowing very secret over the years. But was always smart enough to lose his tongue whenever your father was around. 

Now he didn’t have to worry about that. Your father was dead. You didn’t mourn him the way you mourned your mother. You didn’t feel the need to mourn him in that way. He wasn’t a loving man. He was the opposite of your mother. 

“Why won’t you fly?” Cass asked softly. 

“It hurts too much to try and summon my wings now,” You tell him honestly. It seemed that tonight would be the night to let all of your secrets go. 

“Hurts too-” 

You cut him off by rolling over onto your front, your nightgown cut low enough in the back to reveal two long scars stretching down your back. You know the moment Cass saw them, because he went rigid and sucked in a deep breath. He reached out, fingers carefully brushing the top of the scars. 

“Hurts in more than one way,” You confirm, “Emotionally, and physically. The scars are thick, right where the wings should be.”

“You didn’t heal?”

“Faebane.” 

He rolls you back over so you’re on your back now. You refuse to look up at him, refuse to meet his eyes. You can feel him staring at you though, you can almost feel his emotions rolling off of him in waves. 

You shake your head and roll back over on your side, “I’m tired.”

You feel him nod behind you before wrapping you back up in his arms. You melt into his arms, missing the feeling of being held by someone. Maybe that’s why you turned to Lucien all of those years ago. He was there and he was in pain too, and needed someone to help him move on. He was sweet and gentle and not at all like his ruthless brothers, or Tamlin. 

It just seemed to work between the two of you. There was no love between you, no true feelings. It was physical, and that was it. He would occasionally try to go to bat for you against Tamlin, but much like how he was with Feyre, he would never really push his friend for fear of what would happen. 

You fall asleep quickly, and do not dream again. 

 You wake in the morning to the sound of a door opening and a low growl. Fear rips through you and you refuse to move. Even as arms retract from around you, even as the male next to you sits up in the bed. 

“You don’t get the option of being mad,” you almost let out a sigh of relief at Cassian’s voice. 

You were in the Night Court, you were safe. 

“You’re in her bed,” Azriel growls. 

“All because you weren’t here,” Cassian shrugs, or you assume he does, “She needed you, and you were sulking because she did what she had to in order to survive.” 

“You know nothing about what she did,” Az growls again. 

“They carved her back,” You feel Cassian shudder in the bed, “Two long lines, right where her wings should be, like they carved her up trying to get to them.” 

You wanted to tell them that he was right. That’s exactly what they did. They carved you up like a piece of meat trying to find your beloved wings. The thought made you want to vomit again. But you refused, you refused to let them see you like that again. 

“Get out of her bed.”

“Brother, you know I’m only here to help her,” Cassian said softly, “She needed someone. Preferably you, but I made do.” 

The bed dipped as Cassian got up, leaning over long enough to brush a kiss on your forehead. It’s a simple gesture, but he’d been doing it since you were a small child, maybe even before then. 

“It was Lucien Vanserra,” Cassian said softly at the door, “Which I thank the Mother for. Because at least he still had a heart, before Amerantha came. For all he’s worth, he was a good male, once upon a time.” 

Azirel growls again and shuts the door in Cassian’s face. Az’s shadows make their way towards you, curling around your body as Az slowly moves closer. You know they’ll tell him that you’re awake, but maybe he’ll ignore them and let you continue this farce. 

“I’m sorry,” He said pulling a chair up to the edge of your bed, “I should have handled things better yesterday.”

You finally peel your eyes open to see him leaning over, hands folded on your bed. You want to reach for those hands, those beautifully scarred hands. You wanted to kiss them again, like you used to do all those years ago. But it didn’t feel right anymore. 

“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” You admit, “It was wrong of me. I aimed to hurt you, and that’s something I promised I’d never do.” 

His head shook slowly, “I hurt you too. I promised I wouldn’t let you go. And instead I turned my back on you the second you said something I didn’t like.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and reach over to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. You missed his eyes, so telling to you and cold to everyone else. The Shadowsinger of the Night Court, violent, cold, and deadly, yet so soft and warm to you. 

“I love you, Azriel,” You admit softly, feeling his shadows gather on your back. 

You knew what they were doing, even if he didn’t, but you didn’t try to stop them. He would want to see them eventually. But not this morning. Not when you already felt so laid bare in front of him. 

“I know you do,” He leans forward to kiss you, “I love you too. C’mon, Rhys said he should be back today. And Mor is waiting downstairs to eat breakfast with us.” 

So you find yourself sipping on coffee and eating a rich pastry with Mor when Rhys, and a very soaking wet Feyre and Amren slam into the floor of the living room. You all shoot to your feet. Moving towards the three quickly. 

“What the hell happened?” You questioned. 

“I’d like to know the same thing,” Rhys stated. 

“Did you get it?” Is all Mor can think to say. 

“Get what?” Your head rips to her and then back to Rhys. 

“Nothing.”

“No!” You yell, “Not nothing! Obviously not nothing. What happened in Summer?” 

And then you hear it, you hear the book.

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