#she’s having none of it but he is persistent

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Sweet past - ch.5

Summary: Joel is away on a bussiness trip. You and Ellie have a talk. You and Joel get closer.

Pairing: dbf!Joel x reader

Warnings: none really

You needed to make up your mind. Your boss had been generous, giving you extra time, but sooner or later, the decision would have to be made. It shouldn’t be that hard, you told yourself. When Joel had first called with the news, the plan was simple: come here, lay your father to rest, sell the house, and return to your little flat in the city. Clean and straightforward. It felt like a plan that could hold everything neatly in place.

But you hadn’t prepared for the weight of the memories that would meet you at the door. Every room seemed to echo with fragments of the past, emotions suspended in the air, clinging to every creak and corner. This old house was filled with memories—both the ones that made you ache with warmth and the ones you tried hard to forget. And, of course, there was Joel.

Joel had been a rock. Supportive, kind, generous—he had been there for you in a way that few people ever were. If there was such a thing as an ideal friend, Joel fit the description perfectly. Yes, friend. You realized with some surprise that the line between neighbor and friend had quietly blurred. Somehow, you were no longer just the daughter of his best friend; you’d become someone he cared about for your own sake. He enjoyed spending time with you, as you, no titles, no past, just the present.

Now, back here, with Joel as a steady presence in your life, the pull of your old world has faded more than you expected. You’d deny it if anyone asked, but you’d already caught yourself daydreaming about staying. You’d nursed a quiet, persistent dream of having a place of your own—somewhere small, warm, yours. Cooking has become more than a job. It was something you’d nurtured, something that had grown with you until its needs began to tug at you, too loud to ignore. You didn’t want to remain a sous chef. Maybe you didn’t even want a bustling restaurant. A small café, with coffee, lunches, and pastries—that felt like enough. Like it could be… yours.

You’d spotted a few quaint spots around town, each one calling to you in some way. It would mean a loan from the bank, but you had some savings and a cautious sense that maybe, just maybe, this was possible. And then Mark had shown up with his wife one evening, bearing a huge pie and an earnest apology. He told you the town was still your home if you wanted it to be. That everyone regretted how things had turned out, and all you had to do was reach out if you needed anything.

You’d cried then, the warmth of old friendships wrapping around you as Mark and Maria hugged you. The pie was as delicious as always, and Maria laughed when you tried, once again, to get her recipe. You told Mark how much it all meant to you and even joked about throwing a backyard barbecue like your father used to, once you had your life in order. And for a fleeting moment, it felt like things might truly work out here.

Strangely, everything seemed to circle back to one person. The one steady, unwavering presence in your life: Joel.

He’d been away for a week on business, and you were startled by how much you missed him. How could you just leave him and this place behind again? And to be honest, ever since the two of you had shared a “wings night,” the thought of him made your cheeks warm in a way you hadn’t felt since you were a teen with a crush. Back then, you weren’t alone; the entire town had been smitten. Handsome, hardworking, and with a charm he rarely put on, Joel had been everyone’s idea of a hometown hero. But lately, he’d been trying hard—very hard—to show a softer side, and it wasn’t lost on you.

You jumped at the soft touch of a hand on your shoulder. Ellie stood there, balancing a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with a single slice of toast in the other.

“I’ve been calling you for ages,” she said, rolling her eyes as she set the plate in front of you. Joel had asked you to look after her while he was away, and it turned out Ellie was a delight—foul-mouthed, sarcastic, anything but delicate, and utterly herself.

“Looking good for an old lady, then?” you teased, smiling. “What’s that?”

She smirked, arching a brow. “It’s called toast. Don’t chefs know about it?” She plopped down beside you on the couch, grabbing her own plate and grinning as she took a bite.

“Smartass,” you muttered, laughing. “No wonder you and Joel get along so well.” She joined in, and despite her sarcasm, you couldn’t help but feel her warmth. Ellie was sharp, yes, but she cared deeply, in a way that reminded you of Sarah. They both had this way of looking at you that said more than words could. “Actually, this is pretty good,” you added, taking a bite.

Ellie blushed, shrugging it off. “Guess now you know how Joel managed all this time without Sarah.” She chuckled, and you felt yourself sinking into the easy comfort of her company.

It surprised you just how naturally you and Ellie fit together. Joel had once mentioned that she wasn’t good with new people—something about her past, he’d said, though he hadn’t given details. Yet here she was, sitting beside you, comfortable and relaxed. You were glad she felt that way, that she trusted you enough to let her guard down. She was family to you, as close as Sarah or Joel, even if not by blood.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, her tone shifting, her face suddenly serious. It was that same look she’d had when she’d first met you, as if weighing her words carefully.

“You just did,” you replied, unable to resist the small tease.

She groaned dramatically. “Oh, God, you’re as bad as Joel!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. You couldn’t help but laugh, nodding for her to go on. She took a breath, eyes darting to the laptop resting on your lap.

“I… noticed you’ve been looking at buildings around here. Does that mean… you’re thinking of staying?” She looked away, cheeks flushing slightly, as if embarrassed to admit she’d been paying such close attention.

You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth as you set the laptop between you both. “Yeah, I’ve been looking at places,” you admitted. “Maybe somewhere I could open a little coffee shop, or something like that.” Ellie’s eyes brightened as she leaned in to peek at the listings with you. “I’ve got some savings, so a loan wouldn’t be out of the question. But…” you trailed off, staring at the screen.

“But?” she prompted, her fingers scrolling through the first few pictures.

You hesitated, finally sighing. “I just don’t know if I’m really ready to come back… or even what I truly want,” you murmured, glancing up to find her watching you closely. A gentle smile softened her face, though her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap.

She looked down, a little hesitant. “I didn’t know if living with Joel was a good idea, either,” she began, her voice low. You could see the vulnerability there, her defenses slipping. “I was afraid of the hope he was giving me. I’d moved from place to place so many times that when he brought me here, introduced me to Sarah… it was terrifying.” She paused, her fingers tracing small circles on the fabric of her jeans, like she was grounding herself.

“Joel once told me that life is scary,” she continued, almost as if she were reciting something precious, something she held close. “But he said it would be scarier not to live it fully, not to go after what matters. We only get one life, he said, and what we make of it is up to us.”

She shrugged, her gaze drifting as she absently scratched the back of her neck, clearly nervous. “I’m not trying to sway you, or tell you what to do. I’m probably the last person to give advice on stuff like this… but…” She took a shaky breath, the tiniest waver in her voice. “Sometimes, it’s worth taking that step of faith—where hope is waiting on the other side. And I know that Joel and Sarah would love to have you back. I mean…” She fumbled a little, then added, “I wouldn’t mind, either. You’re… pretty cool. And, well… Joel seems happier with you here. He really does.”

She didn’t finish before you leaned forward and hugged her, holding her tightly as the emotion welled up, impossible to contain. Tears slipped down your cheeks as you clung to her, whispering “thank you” over and over, your voice soft and raw. She held you just as fiercely, her arms around you in silent support. For a long moment, the two of you simply stayed there, grounded in the comfort of family—of the bond you’d never expected to find but knew you’d cherish forever.

***

The first day Joel was gone, you didn’t think much of it. You kept busy around the house, tackling small tasks and keeping things in order, but every so often, you found yourself reaching for your phone, scrolling to his last text from that morning.

“Made it here in one piece. Don’t go burnin’ down the place without me, alright?”

“No promises,” you replied with a winking emoji. There was no immediate response, but later that evening, just after dinner, your phone buzzed with another message.

“How’s Ellie holding up?”

“She’s good! Trust me, she’s not giving me any trouble. It’s actually been nice having her around.”

A few minutes passed, and then another message arrived. “Good. I don’t need her picking up any more of your bad habits, though.”

You grinned at his teasing, sending back a quick reply about how Ellie was the perfect angel. But as the days went by, your short exchanges grew longer, each one becoming more personal, more like the conversations you’d have in person, and you realized just how much you looked forward to his messages.

***

By the third night, his check-ins about Ellie had evolved into full conversations, with you both teasing each other over the smallest things. You could practically feel his familiar energy through the phone, his replies carrying that dry humor you missed.

“So how’s the kid? Not being too much of a brat for you?”

“Oh, you mean like you?” you typed back with a smirk, knowing he’d take the bait.

“Oh, you’re funny now, huh?” came his reply. Then, a moment later: “You got her eating alright? She’s not just having toast for dinner, is she?”

“Nope. She’s been well-fed, thank you. Although she did have toast with her dinner… Does that count?”

His reply came quickly: “Only if you don’t want me to leave her with you again.”

You laughed, typing back. “I think she’d miss me too much. She likes it here. And she’s a great sidekick for all my trouble-making plans.”

There was a pause, and then your phone lit up with an incoming call. Joel’s name flashed across the screen, and you felt a spark of excitement as you pressed it to your ear, settling back into the couch.

“Hello?”

“Hey there,” came his low, familiar voice, a bit rough but warm, and the sound of it made something in your chest tighten. “Didn’t mean to call so late. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, not at all. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yeah?” he replied, a soft chuckle slipping into his tone. “That’s nice to hear.”

There was a moment’s pause, just the sound of him breathing on the other end, and then he continued, “So… what’d you two do today? Ellie still actin’ like she owns the place?”

“Oh, definitely,” you laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “She and Dina spent most of the day getting into who-knows-what. They were in the yard most of the time, building some kind of ‘fortress.’”

He laughed, his voice softening at the mention of Ellie’s friend. “Good ol’ Dina. How’s Ellie treatin’ her?”

“She’s been an absolute riot,” you said, grinning. “Actually, she’s got a bit of a soft side, you know? She was in the kitchen with me for hours this afternoon, telling me all about her latest school projects.”

“Oh, is that right?” Joel said, sounding amused. “Did she mention her… colorful vocabulary?”

“Let’s just say I might’ve learned a new word or two,” you replied with a laugh. “Honestly, I think she’s turning into a bit of a chef herself. She’s been helping me cook, and I don’t think there’s a single vegetable left in the fridge that she hasn’t chopped.”

“Well,” he murmured, sounding both proud and amused, “guess I’ll owe you some restocking. Can’t have her raisin’ hell on an empty stomach.”

The sound of his laugh warmed you, and you could picture him perfectly, that soft, affectionate look he got whenever he talked about Ellie. It was in moments like these, hearing the care in his voice, that you realized just how close you’d become.

***

By the fifth night, the calls had become routine, a way to end each day that you looked forward to more and more. And it wasn’t just about Ellie anymore—your conversations drifted easily into personal territory, as though neither of you could help peeling back more layers.

“So,” he began one night after you’d described the latest “fortress” Ellie and Dina had built. “Tell me, did you put that burnt toast recipe to good use, or did you manage to surprise her with some actual food?”

You laughed, easing back into the pillows on the couch. “Turns out she’s the real chef around here. She makes me look like an amateur.”

“Oh, she got you wrapped around her finger, huh?” he asked, his tone playful.

“Hey, don’t get too smug. She tells me all kinds of stories about you,” you teased back.

“Uh-oh,” he replied, chuckling. “Guess I’ll have to bribe her to keep quiet.”

“Too late,” you said with a grin, letting your voice soften. “Besides, I kind of like hearing those stories.”

There was a pause, and you could sense the way his tone shifted, a hint of something deeper behind the teasing. “Guess I like tellin’ you things,” he murmured, voice low. “Maybe even missin’ it a bit.”

You felt a thrill at his words, the weight of his honesty settling over you. “I miss it too, Joel,” you replied softly, surprising even yourself with the ease of the admission.

The two of you spoke late into the night, laughter fading into softer moments of silence, your words becoming more intimate, your voices almost whispering as the hours slipped by. When you finally hung up, you lay in bed for a long time, the warmth of his voice still in your mind, a feeling of anticipation growing with each passing day.

***

By the seventh day, you’d already made plans in your head for his return, and that evening, as the familiar sound of his voice came through the line, you couldn’t help but bring it up.

“So, you coming back tomorrow?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual as you lay curled on the couch, phone pressed close to your ear.

“That’s the plan,” he replied, sounding pleased. “Should be back in the late afternoon, if the drive goes smooth.”

You smiled, unable to help the excitement that bubbled up. “Well, I was thinking… you should come by when you’re back. Ellie’s staying with Dina tomorrow night for a sleepover, so I thought I could make us something nice.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, his voice growing softer. “Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us,” you confirmed, feeling a bit of a thrill at the invitation. “Figure you deserve a good meal after a week of takeout.”

“Darlin’, you have no idea,” he said, sighing as if he could already smell dinner cooking. “You’d be saving me from another sad hotel sandwich.”

“Well, consider yourself saved,” you said, smiling. “I’ll have everything ready.”

“I’m holdin’ you to that,” he replied, his tone a bit more serious now. “And here’s hopin’ you don’t put too much work into it. Don’t want you fussin’ over me.”

“Who says it’s all for you?” you teased, trying to lighten the moment. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to make something nice.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” he chuckled, sounding amused. “In that case, you won’t mind if I drink all your wine.”

“Fine by me,” you replied, feeling a little thrill at the thought. “Just make sure you get back safe. I’ll be here, waiting.”

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning, and you could feel his pause on the other end, as if he were trying to find the right response.

“I will,” he said softly. “And I’m lookin’ forward to it, too.”

You stayed on the line a few minutes longer, listening to his voice, savoring every laugh, every moment of quiet as though storing it away. When you finally said goodnight, there was a sense of calm in you that hadn’t been there at the beginning of the week, a feeling that this invitation wasn’t just about dinner—it was about something new waiting to unfold. And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but feel that anticipation grow, knowing that tomorrow, you’d be seeing Joel again, sharing a meal with him, with no one else around.

*** Joel hadn’t expected the week away to feel so long. Business trips were something he knew well enough, the routines, the usual humdrum of it. Normally, he could get through them easily, mentally detaching until he got back home. But this time, it had been different from the moment he’d pulled out of the driveway, watching you wave him off with that teasing smile of yours.

The first couple of days had been busy enough to keep his mind occupied, the meetings back-to-back and the hotel nights filled with calls and emails. But every now and then, he’d feel a pang of something. He’d glance at his phone, half-expecting a message from you, maybe one of those playful, bratty texts you’d been sending to rile him up about leaving you with Ellie. It was a small thing, but he’d already started looking forward to hearing from you, catching himself checking his phone in between meetings like some kid waiting on a crush.

When your first message did come through, it had been nothing special on the surface. Just a quick update on Ellie, a casual check-in. But when he saw your name light up his screen, he’d felt a small thrill, an unexpected warmth in his chest, and before he could second-guess himself, he’d replied.

And that was how the calls had started. That first night, he’d dialed your number, telling himself it was just a friendly check-in to make sure you hadn’t let Ellie set the house on fire. But then you’d answered, your voice soft, welcoming, with that unmistakable smile in it that he could practically feel through the line.

“Hey there,” he’d said, his voice a little gruff, trying to keep his tone casual.

The second he heard you reply, “Joel, how’s it going?” he’d felt something settle in him, something he hadn’t realized had been unsettled until then. He didn’t know how long he sat there talking, asking you questions, listening as you filled him in on the smallest details of your day. But he knew he didn’t want the call to end.

That first call should have been enough, but the next evening, he found himself looking forward to hearing from you again. This time, he didn’t bother with the excuse of Ellie; he just dialed your number, letting it ring, waiting with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

And so it went. Every night, he’d sit alone in his hotel room, phone pressed to his ear, waiting to hear your voice. And with each call, he found himself getting a little less careful, letting his guard slip just a bit more. You made it easy, somehow, drawing him in with your playful teasing, the way you’d laugh at his dry humor, the way you’d draw out each conversation like you didn’t want it to end either.

As the week went on, he found himself thinking of you more and more. He’d be in the middle of some mundane task and suddenly catch himself wondering what you were up to, whether you were laughing at something Ellie said or spending the afternoon in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you cooked. He’d never had that kind of restlessness before, that itch to hear someone’s voice, to fill the quiet space with their laughter.

And it wasn’t just your voice he missed. It was you—your presence, your warmth, the way you’d look at him with that quiet challenge in your eyes. He caught himself thinking back to the way your hand would brush against his when you passed him something, or the way you’d flash him a smile when you were trying to annoy him, like you were daring him to keep up.

It was a gradual realization, one he didn’t really want to face but couldn’t ignore. He’d caught himself feeling things he knew he shouldn’t—things he’d been determined to avoid, out of respect for you and for the memory of his best friend. But the truth was undeniable now, and it sat heavy in his chest as he lay in the dark of his hotel room, thinking about the way he felt whenever he heard your voice.

He’d known you forever, since you were just a kid. He’d watched you grow up, become the woman you were now, proud and stubborn and beautiful. But that was exactly the problem—you were a woman now, not the girl he used to know. And he wasn’t blind. He saw the way you looked at him sometimes, the way you’d laugh at his jokes, the way your eyes would linger just a second too long when you thought he didn’t notice.

It thrilled him in a way that scared him—this newfound closeness, the feeling of waiting for each night like it was something forbidden, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Part of him wanted to pull back, to ignore the pull, to treat you as nothing more than a friend, maybe even a daughter. But another part of him, the part he tried to keep buried, was hungry for those conversations, for the laughter and the warmth you shared. The part of him that felt alive every time he heard your voice, that wanted to reach through the phone, close the distance, and tell you exactly what he was thinking.

When you’d invited him over for dinner after he got back, he’d felt that thrill rise in him all over again, the thought of just the two of you, no one else around, the house quiet and warm and waiting. He’d told himself it was just dinner, nothing more, but the anticipation felt heavier, more electric, as though something big had been set in motion, something that couldn’t be stopped.

And now, lying there in his bed, hours away from seeing you again, he felt that familiar tug, the quiet thrill of hearing your voice, the way it softened at night, like a melody only he got to hear.

Joel sighed, closing his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to push the thoughts away. He knew he was crossing into dangerous territory, that the feelings stirring in him weren’t just friendly anymore. But each time he thought about pulling back, about putting some distance between you, he knew he didn’t want to. Not really. He knew that the second he heard your voice, that careful resolve would crumble.

It was dangerous, he knew that much. But it was also thrilling, in a way he hadn’t felt in years. And as he lay there, counting down the hours until he could see you again, he found himself thinking less about what was right or wrong and more about the possibilities—the uncharted places that might await him if he just let go.

***

Joel had barely parked his truck in your driveway before he was out and making his way to the door, his heart beating faster than he’d like to admit. It had only been a week, but it felt like longer—a week of late-night calls, teasing texts, and that quiet, unmistakable thrill that seemed to settle in his chest whenever he thought about seeing you again.

He knocked on the door, taking a quick breath to settle himself as he waited. When you opened it, his heart jumped just a little. You looked radiant, like you’d spent the entire day preparing, and the faint smell of spices filled the air behind you.

“Hey, you,” you said, smiling warmly, your eyes lighting up when you saw him.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, his voice softer than he’d planned. His eyes traveled over you, taking in the way you looked a little nervous, as though you’d put a lot of thought into this evening.

“Well, come in, then!” you said, stepping back, and he followed you into the warm, inviting space you’d transformed for the evening. The dining table was set neatly with wine glasses, a bottle breathing nearby, and the air smelled incredible.

“Hope you’re hungry,” you said, leading him into the kitchen, where a beautifully roasted duck sat on the counter, nestled in a rich, glossy orange and ginger sauce.

His eyebrows rose, impressed. “Looks like I should’ve skipped lunch.”

You grinned, rolling your eyes a little as you grabbed plates. “Well, I figured I’d go all out. I mean, what’s the point of calling this a ‘welcome back’ if I didn’t make it memorable?”

He chuckled, following you to the table as you set the plates down, duck on one side, crisp asparagus on the other. “Trust me, I’ll be rememberin’ this. Feels like I stepped into some kinda fancy restaurant.”

You shook your head, a pleased blush coloring your cheeks as you poured the wine, and you clinked glasses before taking your seats. For a moment, the two of you just savored the first few bites, your nervousness giving way to pride as you saw his reaction.

“Damn, that’s good,” he said, eyes widening as he took another bite. “How’d you get this good at cookin’? I don’t remember you makin’ stuff like this when you were younger.”

“Well, things have changed since then,” you replied, laughing as you took a sip of wine. “And don’t act like you ever stayed for my cooking—always busy with work and keeping an eye on Sarah.”

Joel smiled, tilting his glass toward you. “You’re right. Guess I missed out.” His gaze held yours a beat too long, and you felt your cheeks heat up again.

“So,” you said, trying to focus, “how was the trip?”

He groaned, setting down his fork and giving you a look that made it clear he’d rather forget it entirely. “Long. Boring. Could’ve done without half of it.” He shrugged, his voice softening. “But… it wasn’t so bad. Got to talk to you each night, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip, your heart fluttering at the warmth in his tone. “Guess I kept you from going crazy, huh?”

He laughed, reaching across the table to give your hand a light squeeze. “You could say that.” His hand lingered for just a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles before he pulled away, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a spark of something unspoken. “And I plan to keep it that way.”

The meal drifted on, conversation flowing easily, the two of you swapping stories, laughter filling the room as you sipped on wine. You told him about Ellie’s antics while he was gone, her mini “fortresses” with Dina, the chaos in the yard.

“Sounds like she hasn’t changed much,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “That kid could cause a scene in a church.”

“Actually, she’s been amazing,” you replied, laughing. “Really. I wouldn’t have expected it, but she’s practically taken over. A little mini you, you know?”

“Oh, she’s way more trouble than me,” he teased, giving you a look that was half challenge, half admiration. “But I’m glad she didn’t give you a hard time.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, letting the warm flavors of the wine and pasta fill the spaces between wordsJoel leaned back, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

“Guess who sends his regards,” he said, smirking. “Tommy. Says he remembers the last time he saw you, and that he hopes you’re well.”

“Tommy?” you laughed, eyebrows raised. “Last I saw him, he was still Tommy the Troublemaker. Can’t even imagine what he’s up to now.”

Joel chuckled, shaking his head as he swirled his wine. “Well, believe it or not, Tommy’s about to get married.”

You stared at him, stunned, and he nodded, clearly amused by your reaction.

“He found someone who puts up with him, huh? That’s got to be one patient woman,” you teased.

Joel laughed, a rich sound that made the room feel warmer. “Yeah, she’s got her work cut out for her. But he’s serious about her. Wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

Shaking your head, you tried to imagine the Tommy you remembered settling down. It seemed impossible, yet oddly reassuring. It felt like a reminder that people could change, could find a new path even if it seemed unlikely.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath as you let the conversation quiet down a little, the familiar nervousness returning. Now was the time to tell him about your plans, and you wanted it to be just right.

“I’ve been thinking about something, Joel,” you said, your voice soft, looking down at your glass before meeting his gaze. “I’ve been thinking about staying here. Moving back… for good.”

He stilled, his gaze locking onto yours, a glimmer of surprise and, you thought, happiness in his eyes. “Yeah?” His voice was barely a murmur, almost as if he were afraid to break the spell.

“Yeah,” you replied, a little laugh escaping as you tried to find the right words. “I thought… well, I thought maybe I could open up a small café or something. Nothing big. Just a place to cook, make people happy.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak, just looked at you with a soft, admiring gaze. Then he reached over, taking your hand again, his fingers warm and strong around yours. “You know I’ll support you, whatever you decide. But I’ll be honest… I like the idea of you stayin’.” He squeezed your hand, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Feels right, you know? Feels like… you belong here.”

Your heart thudded, his words sinking in with a warmth that filled you from head to toe. “Thank you, Joel,” you murmured, the words feeling inadequate. “Really. It means a lot.”

He just nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess I’m just selfish,” he teased, his voice a quiet rumble. “Don’t wanna lose my dinner dates.”

The two of you lingered at the table long after the meal was done, the bottle of wine nearly empty, the air between you comfortable, charged with a quiet intimacy. But then you glanced at the plates and stood, stretching. “Alright, let me get these cleaned up.”

But as you started to stack the plates, Joel rose to his feet, crossing his arms with a stubborn look in his eyes. “Oh, no. You went to all this trouble cookin’—I’m not letting you clean, too.”

“Joel, I invited you over. You’re the guest, so just let me—”

Before you could protest further, he reached over and slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close in one smooth movement. His hand rested at the small of your back, his grip gentle but firm, and the sudden closeness made your heart race. He looked down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

You felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek, your pulse skittering as his gaze held yours. “Maybe you’re just too used to getting your way,” you shot back, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he released you but kept his hand at your waist, guiding you toward the sink. “You’re not gettin’ out of helpin’ me this time.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile spread across your face as you leaned against the counter beside him, picking up a dish towel. “Alright, fine. But only because you’re so determined.”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm as he started washing a plate. His hand brushed against yours as he passed it over, his gaze flicking to you with a look that made your stomach flip.

The cleaning took longer than it should have, the two of you slipping into an easy rhythm, shoulders brushing, quiet laughter filling the kitchen as you worked side by side. Every so often, he’d nudge you, or you’d “accidentally” flick water at him, and he’d just shake his head, giving you that smirk that seemed to melt you from the inside out.

It felt comfortable, natural, like you’d been doing this forever, and yet every touch, every shared glance held a charge, a warmth that neither of you wanted to break. It was domestic, yes, but it was also more than that—something electric, simmering beneath the surface, neither of you acknowledging it out loud, but both feeling it as surely as the water running over your hands.

Finally, with the dishes done, he turned to you, wiping his hands on a towel and looking at you with a small, satisfied smile. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the counter with a grin. “I guess I’ll let you help next time. You might even have a knack for it.”

He chuckled, setting the towel down as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Maybe I just like spending time with you.”

The words hung in the air, neither of you breaking eye contact, and for a moment, it felt like the world had quieted around you. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, the warmth of his presence filling the small space between you, a quiet tension building with each second that ticked by.

And then, just as quickly, he cleared his throat, stepping back with a small, almost shy smile. “Well, thanks for dinner. I’d say you’ve set the bar pretty damn high.”

You smiled, feeling a blush spread over your cheeks. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The evening ended in a comfortable silence, the two of you lingering in the doorway as he put on his jacket. He turned to you one last time, his gaze soft, warm, lingering on you as if he didn’t quite want to leave.

“See you soon, alright?” he said, his voice low, a quiet promise in his words.

You nodded, smiling as you watched him go, the warmth of his presence lingering in the house long after he’d left. And as you closed the door behind him, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted, that tonight had been a step toward something you both felt but were just beginning to acknowledge, something that went beyond dinner, beyond words—a feeling that would stay with you long after he’d gone.

[snap-my-kneecaps]

now and forever thinking about uksies Buttons who is a complete menace that spends his time stealing and generally causing chaos. but who also cares so much about the other newsies and will always make sure the younger newsies eat, even if it means he forfeits what he’s stolen or his own food.

[whimsiwitchy]

he's hooked (oneshot)

hugh jackman x actress!reader

summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.

warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.

authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33

 Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face. 

“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away. 

—

Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to. 

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.” 

“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.” 

“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.

“Yes.” 

“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls. 

You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface. 

“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself. 

“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy. 

“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one.  Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.

You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. 

The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom. 

— 

A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:

I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx

tag list: @prettycoolgirl, @nonamevenus, @godlypresley, @pedroscurls, @evasmlp, @bluetimeombre, @sue8724, @princessanglophile, @kellyxo1, @ccmoonshine, @hughverine, @chronicallybubbly, @realhotgirlshitah, @aurlavr, @almosthumongousfunsblog, @wolviesgirl, @flirtyjen, @lilgrinchbitch, @majesticalcocoa, @liamdasimp, @needz1nk, @squishyfruitloop, @afra-ww, @veru-boom

[nanamis-angel]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 ♡︎

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and megumi have been dating for nine months. you're happy. he's happy. you're perfect for each other. the only issue? he craves affection and he's not sure how to ask for it.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ megumi x fem!reader, shy megumi, fluff, very very slight angst, cuddling, yuji and nobara mention (they share one braincell).

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ sorry I haven't written in a while, i'm currently on vacation and haven't been writing. this was in my drafts so I figured I'd post it. I'll be back soon with some more. I hope you enjoy! hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y

You and Megumi had been dating for quite a while now. Just two weeks ago, you had your nine-month anniversary together and you were the happiest you had ever been.

The relationship was very low-key. PDA was almost non-existent—the most he’d ever do in public was hold your hand and even then, he kept his hands to himself most days.

Affection was present in your relationship but you mostly had to ask for it. He’d give it to you without a second thought but he rarely initiated any form of affection besides a few hugs or kisses here and there.

To be honest—it bothered you at first as you believed it was something about you that made him not want to be affectionate but then you realized it was just hard for him to show physical affection because he never really knew how. He was an amazing boyfriend—he just had some struggles.

You were fine with this now and it didn’t bother you, knowing that he still loved you very much.

But what you didn’t know was how badly this affected Megumi. His fear of initiating physical affection was eating him alive from the inside out.

Megumi had a lot of emotions—believe it or not—but he didn’t know how to handle all of it so he just shoved it all down where nobody could find it. He never learned how to deal with any of it so it seemed like the only quick solution.

His mother passed away at a young age and affection or even emotion (besides anger, disappointment, or his father being unamused) was not common from his father and stepmother. Growing up he got the occasional pat on the head or a hug from Gojo and his older sister Tsumiki tried her best to show her love for him when she could—but that had ended all too soon.

He would never admit it but he absolutely craved affection—specifically from you. The poor boy was so touch-starved. His heart soared whenever you asked for a hug or to lay down together. And it tore away at his heart how badly he wanted to ask you for love but for some reason, he was scared to do so.

But one thing about Megumi was that he was persistent and he was going to get through this and overcome his anxiety one way or another. After all, you were already his girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

Right now, you were on a walk with him, Nobara, and Yuji. Shoko had insisted on the four of you going out and getting some sun and none of you were about to argue with the intimidating school doctor so you all quickly got out there.

You walked alongside Megumi while Nobara and Yuji goofed off a couple of feet ahead of the two of you, not paying attention to either of you at all. Megumi quietly walked with a stoic expression, keeping his hands in his pockets. He had barely said anything but that’s because his mind was racing.

You didn’t mind it at all as long as you were with him. Megumi’s gaze kept flickering down to your hand, which was at your side as you walked. He wanted to just reach down and grab your hand tightly but something stopped him. Why? He had no idea.

You were his girlfriend, he had held your hand before and nothing happened. So why would it be any different now? Anxiety over simple things never made anyone think sensible thoughts. But it was enough to make him nervous to simply reach out and grab your hand.

And the worst part? You had no idea. You simply kept walking with a big smile on your face as the two of you walked together.

Before he could stop himself, he just took his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your hand rather abruptly, not saying a single thing as if trying to ignore what just happened.

You were a little stunned—just because it was so sudden. And he had just grabbed your hand rather than lacing his fingers together with yours or something like that so you looked at him with a little bit of confusion. “Megumi?” You asked.

Noticing your eyes on him, he just avoided eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat up for some reason. All he was doing was holding your hand! Well, more like gripping it at this point.

“You don’t have to grip my hand like that, I’m not going anywhere.” You chuckled, trying to make him loosen up a bit so you could intertwine your fingers with his. Really, you were just glad that he was holding your hand and had done it himself.

Megumi didn’t reply but his grip loosened up so you could intertwine your fingers with his, properly holding hands now. You gave his hand a little squeeze and a reassuring smile. To be honest, it was really cute to see him like this but you weren’t going to say anything about it and just decided to leave it as it was.

Holding hands—it was such a simple thing but Megumi’s heart felt like it was racing. He was proud of himself for initiating things but boy was his heart pounding.

But feeling his skin against yours was so nice; feeling the warmth of your hand against his, it was so comforting. Goodness, he loved you so much. He just didn’t know how to say it sometimes.

The two of you held hands until you got back to the school. Nobara and Yuji rushed inside, not wanting to be out in the heat anymore while you and Megumi took your time getting inside. Sometimes you believed Nobara and Yuji shared one brain cell between each other—and they probably did, to be honest.

Megumi’s hand fell from yours when you got inside, which was okay, you were going to sit down to cool off anyway.

You made your way inside and to one of the rooms, walking over to one of the couches. Thankfully you had nothing else going on for the rest of the day so you could just practically pass out on the couch for a little while.

Before you sat down, you looked at Megumi, who was just standing there looking at you. “You okay, sweetheart?” You asked, slightly confused. He had been acting odd all day and it confused you. What was going on?

Again, no reply. Instead, you felt his hands suddenly grab your waist and pull you close to him, his arms enveloping you in a big hug. You stood there stunned for a moment before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It was clear that he really needed this hug.

“Megumi—,” You spoke but he cut you off.

“Don’t say anything.” He said softly, “Just don’t say anything.” He breathed out, not wanting to be asked any questions right now. All he wanted to do was hold you.

With you still in his arms, he moved and sat down on the couch, putting you on his lap and burying his face into the crook of your neck. It was so comforting, so nice. He just wanted to stay like this forever, in the safety and comfort of your arms.

You were still stunned that he was doing this but you didn’t question a thing, continuing to keep your arms locked tightly around him. Eventually, your hand made its way up to his scalp, gently raking your nails through his hair. You could feel him practically melt into your touch and you let out a little chuckle.

“Cute,” You mumbled, your voice could barely be heard.

Megumi let out a little huff and just kept his arms around you, his cheeks warm from embarrassment.

You weren’t sure how long you two were like that and eventually, you had somehow shifted to where the both of you were laying down, still holding each other in your arms. Megumi had practically fallen asleep, comfortably cuddled up right in your arms.

And he would’ve fallen asleep—had Yuji not walked into the room and seen the two of you lying together on the couch. Poor, innocent Yuji who could physically never bring himself to be quiet. “Ooh, Fushiguro! Getting comfortable with [name] there huh?” He said lightheartedly, thinking nothing of it. He really was just teasing.

Within an instant, Megumi was sitting up with an unamused expression, reaching to grab the nearest thing he could, his face pink and flushed “Shut up!”

Yuji was out of that room within seconds, just barely dodging the magazine Megumi had thrown at him.

[sublimitymp3]

Pray for me

Pairing ✵ Gwayne Hightower/Niece!reader

Warnings ✵ Hotd season 2 spoilers, incest, littleee bit of crybaby!reader, smut (frottage, oral F receiving, fingering, and slight dacryphilia), and religious themes

Word count ✵ 2.5k

Summary ✵ Your uncle Gwayne arrives from Oldtown at your brother's call, and pays a visit to you while you pray.

"Your mother told me I might find you in here,"

You whipped your head around to see the source of the voice that disturbed you from your prayers and saw none other than your uncle, Ser Gwayne Hightower. He had finally come from Oldtown, answering your brother's call for assistance in his war.

"It is the seventh day, I thought I ought to pray. Especially now..." You explain with a small smile. You stood from your kneeling position on the cold, unyielding sept floor so you may look upon him. Your face twists into a cringe as you feel the bruises from kneeling for so long begin to form on your knees, and you are sure they'll be an ugly purple color later. Relaxing your features, you finally turn on your heel to face your uncle. It has been so long since you've seen him.

Too long.

He's as handsome as you remember, with his auburn hair, pale blue eyes, and the faint freckles that dust his face. How you wished you could map kisses along those freckles, connecting them with a trail of where your lips had been. But your faith and virtue prevent you from giving in to the desire. Besides, you are sure that if he ever found out you ever thought such things, he'd look at you with such revulsion that you'd crumble to the floor in shame.

He steps closer to you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear tenderly. "You have your mother's beauty, but your father's features," he hums, tweaking your nose playfully before wrapping you in a firm hug. It is not lost on you the slight curt tone his voice took on at the mention of your late father, but you dismiss it.

"And tell me, how have you been fairing during these trying times, hm? Don't tell me you hole yourself up in this sept all day." He teases, bringing a feeling of embarrassment over you for he had guessed correctly. Recently, you do spend the brunt of your days at the sept, praying to almost every facet of the Seven for mercy, strength, wisdom, and safety. Today, you were praying at the statue of the Mother, and after you lit a candle for her altar, you prayed for mercy and protection for your family members. It is one of the few things that brings you comfort nowadays, your faith in the Seven who are One.

"Well, there isn't much I can do," you shrug, letting a small frown tug at your lips. "It's not like I can sit in on a council meeting, and mother refuses to let me on my dragon. She seems perfectly content in keeping me idle and useless," you remark with a tone of annoyance, one that draws a low laugh from your uncle.

"Your mother means well, sweet niece. You're better suited here, getting favor from the gods as opposed to being in the midst of battle. Believe me, it is a bloody, nasty affair, and you are far too delicate to join in," he grips your chin in between his forefinger and his thumb, keeping your lilac gaze trained on his ocean-blue eyes.

You cannot even think of a response to his dismissing words, as you are too busy trying to push away the familiar ache you get between your thighs. It always comes at the most inconvenient of times, like when you watch the men in the training yard move, sweaty and shirtless, or when you spy on your brother coupling with a serving girl. All you know is that it persists for ages, and no amount of praying stops it.

But you can only try.

"S-Shall we pray, uncle? So that the Mother may grant us safety, of course," you propose, shifting nervously on your feet. Perhaps it is the light flush that has appeared on your face, or how you try to discreetly press your thighs together for some form of relief, but Gwayne knows. He always knows.

To save yourself some embarrassment, you resume your kneeling position before the statue and altar of the Mother, clasping your hands together in the standard praying position. You expect your uncle to kneel beside you, or just leave the sept all together, so you are quite surprised when you feel him loom behind you.

His firm chest swiftly presses against your back, and his larger and calloused hands come to rest over your softer ones, and you find yourself trapped in this embrace. Whether it is to your delight or misfortune, you cannot decide. You squeeze your eyes shut and silently beg for forgiveness for the unseemly thoughts that run through your brain at his actions. 'Who thinks such perverse things in a holy place?' you think, mentally chastising yourself.

"Well, go on then, sweet one. Pray for me," he whispers, and you can feel his breath fanning against the shell of your ear. Gwayne is enjoying this, enjoying this little game of denial you two play. Of course, it is wrong for him to want to take you in the lewdest positions, to have you scream his name so everyone knows who is fucking you so good, but he has restrained himself all this time. Patience is a great virtue, yes, but he wishes to reap his reward for remaining ever so patient now.

"M-Mother Above, have mercy on us all. I beg you for your protection, and for you to-" you cut yourself off with a gasp as your uncle buries his face into the crook of your neck, and gently nips at the soft skin there. He begins pressing himself against your ass, making your cheeks flush even more.

Noticing your sudden pause, he pulls back to look at your blushing face with a devilish smirk. "Well? Go on, don't mind me," he says before going right back to nipping and sucking at your neck. It is impossible for you to stay concentrated on your prayers as he continues, and you resign to praying in your head as your words fail you.

Your prayers only falter as you feel something hard poking against your backside, prodding and bumping against you relentlessly. Gwayne begins peppering kisses from your neck and to your jawline before tugging your head back gently, and letting his lips brush against yours. He only pauses as you tilt your head a little bit away in reluctance.

"U-Uncle, this is wrong. N-Not here, we cannot do this-"

"Shh, enough with that. It isn't wrong, not in the slightest. It's not wrong, not when you're meant for me. Surely even the gods will understand," he mumbles against the softness of your lips. You feel in that little moment of pause that his are a bit chapped, most likely from days of riding on horseback and camping in the wilderness. But it matters little then.

Once his lips are on yours, you cannot help the cascade of little moans that leaves you. His mouth is overwhelming and easily overpowers your rather inexperienced one, and you feel his hands move from their position over yours. One hand moves to your neck, and the other to your breast, fondling it through your dress as he continues humping you from behind.

You are thankful the sept is empty today. If word of what you do now reached your mother, of the depravity you partake in with her own brother, you're sure she'd have you sent far away to become a septa.

With a final peck to your lips, your uncle stands. He drinks in the sight of you like this; cheeks flushed, hair a bit messy, clothes rumpled, and swollen lips, all from him, of course. He swears then and there he's never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Up you go, princess," he mumbles, before picking you up with ease and setting you to sit on the edge of the altar. He messily pushes away the candles and various offerings left there to make room for you, and you cringe at the disrespect, disrespect born from lust and hastiness.

The new position allows for you to be relatively level with his face, and he soon hikes your dress up and stands between your parted thighs. As he begins to rub his erection against your clothed cunt, you grab onto his forearms to ground yourself.

His erection rubs against your dampened smallclothes, brushing against your bud and your folds. With each grind of his hips, you feel something like a fire burning through your bones. But with your clothes acting like a barrier, and the slightly awkward angle, it's not enough for you. Even with your unfamiliarity to such actions, you still know it is not enough.

"M-More, more. Uncle, I need more." you whine, pulling him closer by the laces of his breeches, eliciting a sly smirk from him.

"Well well, I never thought I'd see the day where my own niece was begging for me like a whore." he teases, making you frown at the crude and cruel word.

A cruel word indeed, and you feel the familiar sensation of your eyes watering, and your nose instinctively sniffling. Gwayne's smirk falters for a moment as he watches little tears spill from your eyes, but only for a moment.

"Aw, come now sweet girl, don't take offense. It was all in good fun, yes?" he coos to you, and you feel him begin to lick your tears away, catching the salty evidence of your crying on his tongue. "But oh, darling one, how pretty you look when you cry. Are you gonna cry more with what I do to you, little princess?" he asks with a mocking little pout, before kissing back down your neck.

You've always been a bit of a sensitive girl, everyone knows this. The smallest hint of frustration or anger to you, or even words spoken to you all in jest send you easily into tears. What you were not expecting was for them to be met with something other than the typical annoyed shushing you are used to receiving when you begin to cry.

Soon, Gwayne is kneeling before you, and pulling your wet smallclothes down. His lips pepper light kisses along your soft inner thighs, teasing you once more. "So wet...all for me, little princess?" he asks before nudging his nose against your bud, making you jolt with pleasure. He inhales your sweet scent. 'The scent of a wet virgin', he thinks crudely to himself.

You keep yourself propped up with your arms, and you look down at him between your thighs. Both of your legs have been thrown over his shoulders, and the instinct to wiggle your core closer to him grows. With a knowing gaze, Gwayne looks up at you with a smirk, before his tongue darts out and he dives in.

He eats you like a starved man.

His tongue licks stripes along your core, lapping up your arousal hungrily. His mouth works expertly, and all you can do is sit there helplessly and moan. Your little squeals and high-pitched whines sound adorable to him, and he laughs against your cunt. The vibrations, of course, make you jump again.

"My my, little niece, aren't you quite the sensitive one? Is your cunny as sensitive as your heart, hm?" he teases, as he continues to lick and suckle you. You cannot respond, too incapacitated by the pleasure his mouth brings you. It is nothing like you've ever felt before. Even your pillow or your hands don't feel as good as this.

"U-Uncle, uncle Gwayne, it feels s'good," you practically babble out as the lewd sounds of him slurping against you echoes around the sept. Your hand comes down to grip at his auburn hair, tugging him closer to your cunt. You care not anymore if this depravity is sullying a holy place, or if the gods watch with disapproval. There's always time to repent, after all.

The little pain you yanking his hair brings him makes him groan against your puffy folds, adding only to the stimulation you feel. "Yeah? Feels good? Oh, baby, you have no idea..." he murmurs, leaving you a little confused at his choice of words.

But you soon find out what exactly he means.

His mouth moves to focus only on your sensitive bud, sucking on it gently while he introduces two fingers to your wet folds. His fingers dance along your slit, dragging up and down in a slow, almost torturous manner.

You cry and squirm against him, greedily pushing his face right against your cunt. He heeds your signal, and finally pushes his fingers inside your velvety walls.

The stretch and feeling of something penetrating you are new and utterly foreign, but with the added stimulation his mouth still gives, the uncomfortableness of it all soon washes away to make room for pleasure. He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, careful to not hurt you as he works you open.

Once he is sure you are ready, only then does he move his fingers faster. Your thighs squeeze around his head with the intensity of it all, and he has to wrench them back apart. "I can't move if you're trying to block me, sweetling," he chuckles, earning a sheepish "sorry" from you.

As he continues his ministrations, his fingers finally brush against and find that spongy sweet spot hidden up you. He begins to nudge against it with his fingertips, making you gush your arousal all over his face. You've never felt such an intense and yet wonderful feeling in your life, and soon you find it all beginning to build up and crescendo.

His free hand massages and strokes your hips gently, and rubs circles over your belly a little, just to soothe you. He can feel your walls tightening up, and how your thighs tremble and shake around his head. "You can do it, baby, you can do it. Go on, sweet niece," he coos, finally sending you over the edge.

With a loud cry, you tremble and feel such intense pleasure crashing over you like the waves during a tumultuous seastorm. You chant his name, worshipping him as if he were a god.

Once your peak washes over you, you slump against the base of the statue of the Mother. Gwayne promptly stands, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Perhaps I should have you every night instead of wine." he smiles, before thumbing stray tears that rest on your flushed cheeks away.

He wipes his mouth with his forearm, before kissing you once more. You can taste yourself on your tongue. "I have to go now, sweet one. Pray to the gods for me, will you? And when I come back, we can pray together again. Wouldn't you like that?" he grins, cupping your face in his hands.

A knowing smile forms on your kiss-swollen lips as you understand the insinuations of his words. As he rides off to fight your brother's war, you will remain praying in the sept, longing for the day he will return and come to pray with you again.

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[ordinaryschmuck]

The Doctor experiencing racism, firsthand, for the first time in their life...Oh, man, I gotta go through this.

First, I love that he doesn't realize what's wrong at first. He just figures that the rich twats are being twats. No big deal, The Doctor dealt with twats before, he can handle them once more. So he tries, he tries using every ounce of logic to convince them that going with him will be for the best. But they refuse anyway because they're uncomfortable with someone like him and his wild story about a blue box that's bigger on the inside.

Yet he doesn't care. The Doctor still wants to help these people, even if they don't trust him. It speaks volumes of the kind of good person that The Doctor is, no matter the face. They will always help someone--EVERYONE--because to them, no life in the universe isn't worth saving. He makes this clear in his desperation to make them STOP their crazy plan to become pilgrims and let him take them to a new, safer planet. Except that they still refuse, and he's stunned. He can't understand how they can be so insane to not accept his help.

And then it hits. He finally gets the reason why they don't want his help. It's all because of this one, vile concept that still managed to persist for decades, centuries, GENERATIONS on a distant planet. Despite the time and the distance, racism still persisted and The Doctor was too blind to notice the signs. The fact that there was no other person of color in that bubble or how often Lindy was annoyed and disgusted with The Doctor specifically while being more lenient toward Ruby. She blocked The Doctor immediately, but was willing to hear Ruby out despite how clearly aggravated she became with her. It was all there, and none of us noticed, not even The Doctor because...they're not used to thinking that way. They're used to people trusting their face and listening to them because they've always remembered being White and never once considered that someone could be prejudiced towards them.

All of this comes to The Doctor all at once...and it is so ridiculous that all he can do is laugh. The sheer utter lunacy that racism existed and he just now realized HE could experience it is insane. It's insane that this is something he never thought of. It's insane that this is STILL something he has to think of. And that laughter soon turns to anger because he HATES that it's still a thing he has to think of. He hates that he couldn't safe what's left of a civilization because of something that should have been outdated LONG ago.

The Doctor finally experienced racism first hand, and it broke both of his hearts because of it.

[thewulf]

Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

Request Taglist: @michasia24 @alicexvrose @samsgoddess @octoavia @agustdpeach @nescavaneck @casualpruneranchfire @sebastiansstanswhore @kaysolai @samron15 @lillianacristina @ryswritingrecord @bitterest-taste

[emberuby]

you deserve better | l.hs

pairing: lee heeseung x fem! reader

summary: heeseung overhears you crying about your asshole of a boyfriend. he'd do anything to show you how much better you deserve.

warnings: best friend's brother! heeseung, age gap (hee is 3 years older), mentions of body shaming, heavy insecurity, toxic ex, infidelity but it's deserved, soft dom! heesung, simp heesung, sub! reader, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, missionary, creampie, sort of angst?, hurt comfort, not proofread.

wc: 4.7k

“Stop being such a pussy and break up with him already,” Sunoo groaned, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. Hojung slapped him on the shoulder and glared fiercely. She felt a surge of frustration on your behalf at Sunoo's nonchalant attitude.

“Sunoo! That’s not helping,” Hojung snarled, her eyes filled with annoyance as she looked at him, but they softened when she turned back to you.

You looked utterly miserable, eyes red and puffy from crying. Your hair was a mess, and your mascara was smeared in blotchy streaks across your cheeks from constantly rubbing your face.

You had recently discovered that your boyfriend of six months was growing bored of your relationship, especially your sex life. You knew it was a trivial thing to cry over, and Sunoo was right. Breaking up with him would be the simplest solution to end this cycle of misery.

“Come on, I'm just being real. He’s clearly not worth it. He humiliates you in front of his friends, sexualises you in front of them, mocks your weight, and can’t even make you orgasm but has the audacity to say the sex is boring? Hojung, why haven’t we kicked his ass yet?” Sunoo folded his arms across his chest and scowled, imagining the worst possible things happening to your boyfriend.

Hojung looked deflated as she slowly nodded, agreeing with everything Sunoo said. She grabbed your hand softly and looked at you with pure sympathy. “Y/N, I hate seeing you like this. Why are you still with him?”

You hiccuped, feeling on the verge of tears again at her worried tone. Despite hating to burden your best friends with your problems, they had been persistent in getting you to open up about what had been happening since they noticed your change in demeanour over the past few weeks.

You had been unusually quiet and dejected, often barricading yourself in your room. Sunoo and Hojung decided to hold an intervention, and now here you were, tipsy off a few seltzers, spilling everything that had been plaguing your relationship onto them. At first, they were angry with you for not telling them sooner, but now their focus was solely on your cunt of a boyfriend.

“I don’t know,” you sniffed, “I have no idea why I’m still with a man who makes me so utterly insecure. I guess I think…I won’t be able to find someone if I were to leave him. I’ve never had guys go after me so a small part of me thinks I should just deal with this because what other choice do I have?” You knew you sounded pathetic, but at this point, you couldn’t care less. 

“Is that what he told you?” Sunoo asked, now matching Hojung’s level of rage.

You stayed silent, but the answer was yes. Your boyfriend always told you how lucky you were to be in a relationship with him given how dull and flawed you were. Before this relationship, you couldn’t remember having this many confidence issues, but ever since he came into your life, you can’t help but believe his words. Maybe you were so undesirable that this is your one and only chance for a relationship. 

“Snap out of it, Y/N! None of what you said was true. You are beautiful and so incredible." Hojung furrowed her eyebrow and drunkenly yelled, “I will kill that bastard for making you feel this way, I swear!”

“Oh! But if I said that, you’d call me all sorts of dramatic,” Sunoo scoffed.

“Yeah, because you would actually mean it,” Hojung retorted, snapping her fingers in front of Sunni’s face. It made you flashback to your early high school days when Sunoo would go after boys who teased you, usually by physically confronting them in the courtyard.

“I…You’re right. Both of you. I will break up with him, soon. I just hope I’m not such a coward that I chicken out like last time,” you used the ends of your sweater to wipe the tears away from your eyes, not caring anymore about the mascara stains that were being left on the fabric.

“You’re telling me you tried to break up with him before and didn’t follow through?” Hojung gasped. 

Before you could answer, you heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, you saw Lee Heeseung, Hojung’s older brother. Despite knowing he was off-limits, you couldn’t help but get nervous and infatuated every time he was around. Ever since you met him at thirteen, you’ve had a crush on him that was all too obvious to Hojung, not that she ever commented on it.

Perhaps it was slightly more than a tiny crush, but either way, you knew your place and never sought after him. Even if he wasn’t your best friend’s older brother, you knew he was way above your league. He carried himself with a confidence and beauty you could only dream of possessing.

It had been a year since you’d last seen Heeseung. He went off to a university in Europe but came back periodically to visit his family. Now that he was almost graduating and had more free time, he decided to come home for a few months and was staying at your and Hojung’s apartment for the week to catch up with his baby sister. 

Hojung snapped her head up at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “Heeseung! What do you need? We’re having a private conversation,” she scolded. 

Heeseung came up behind her to ruffle her hair, much to her annoyance. “You need to watch how much you drink,” he said sternly. 

“Ugh, I didn’t drink that much. I’m fine. Now go away!” She slurred.

“Fine!” Heeseung raised his arms slightly in surrender, “I just came to get some water.”

Heeseung looked down into your eyes, mesmerising you. You held eye contact for a moment before you got too nervous and tried to find anywhere else to look. Although his stare was rather intense and mostly unreadable, there was a hint of concern etched on his expression. “You okay?” He asked.

You nodded meekly, face heating up at the embarrassment of him having to see you in this state—a crying and babbling mess over a boyfriend who clearly wasn’t worth your tears. You tried to lower your gaze so it wouldn’t be so obvious to him, but it was mostly useless.

Heeseung walked over to the fridge and took out four water bottles. When he came back to the table, you felt him behind you, and the heat emanating off his body was all too noticeable. Your breathing became irregular as he leaned over from behind you to place the water bottles on the table. 

Hojung took a swig of water and suddenly tumbled out of her seat, running towards the kitchen to empty the contents of her stomach into the sink. You stood up to hold her hair back, followed by a worried but calm Heeseung. 

“How much did she drink?” Heeseung asked.

You kept your mouth shut, but Sunoo didn’t seem to have a problem with tattling as he said, “A few seltzers, a bottle of soju, three shots of tequila,” he grabbed a can from Hojung’s side of the table and inspected it, “And a beer?”

“Fucking hell,” you heard Heeseung murmur under his breath. “Hojung, what is your problem? You know you’re a lightweight.”

Hojung just groaned back, too dishevelled to say anything. You placed your palm on her forehead and felt it burn. 

“Alright, that’s enough, let’s wrap it up. Hojung, go to bed,” Heeseung scolded. 

“Sunoo, I’ll call you an Uber and—,” you started.

“No, he can stay and sleep on the couch, it’s too late. All of you go clean yourselves up and go to sleep,” Heeseung instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Heeseung and Sunoo led Hojung back to her room, holding onto her by the shoulders.  

You were sitting alone at the table now, scattered with empty cans of cheap alcohol and glass bottles of half-empty liquor. It was half past midnight, and although you desperately wanted to sleep, your mind was still plagued with the thoughts of how you were going to break up with the man who was poisoning your life.

You hadn’t even realised that Heeseung sat across from you until you felt him grab the drink can from your hand. He looked over to you disapprovingly, but also worried. 

“Hojung and Sunoo both went to bed, you should too,” he said quietly. His voice was so soft and soothing that it did make you want to fall asleep to the sound of it.

“I don’t think I can.”

Heeseung had heard everything you said, and he was doing a rather good job at hiding just how enraged he was at your scum of a boyfriend. Not to mention how angry he was at the words you said about yourself. It made him want to grab you by the shoulders and tell you in detail just how gorgeous and desirable you were, right after breaking the jaw of the man who made you cry like this.

If it were up to him, you would never cry unless it’s from pleasure from how good he made you feel. 

He snapped out of his crude thought. “Your boyfriend sounds like a real charmer,” he said sarcastically. 

You looked away from him, embarrassed, “So I guess you heard everything?”

“Sorry,” he said all too unapologetic, “I’m not the type to eavesdrop, I swear.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t want you to think I’m pathetic. I swear I’ll break up with him tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all, just misguided. You think way too low of yourself.” His stare made you feel so small. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Y/N.”

Your face heated up like crazy. You finally looked back up into his eyes and Heeseung felt amused at your flustered and shocked face. You were adorable beyond your comprehension. 

“You don’t know how many men would do anything to have you.” Present company included, Heeseung thought. 

You shook your head, chuckling weakly, “You don’t have to say that.”

His eyes went dark now, frustrated at how you didn’t believe him. He leaned over the table to grab your hand. It was comforting and far too gentle for you to have reacted by flinching at the sudden touch. “I mean it, Y/N. You deserve so much better than him,” he lowered his voice and whispered, “You deserve to feel good. A man who can’t pleasure his woman is what’s actually pathetic.”

You had no idea what to say at that, your body going stiff at his insinuating words and the feeling of his thumb rubbing over your hand. 

He smiled tenderly at you, trying to soothe your worries. “I could show you what it feels like to be taken care of.” He leaned closer towards you now, and you felt yourself leaning as well. “Come sit over here,” he patted his lap.

You had no idea what you were thinking when you stood up from your seat and began walking towards him, but you felt him pulling you in. In these months of misery and heartbreak, Heeseung’s comforting presence was magnetic and you couldn’t stop yourself from getting close to him.

You stood in front of him, and he gently held your waist to pull you down to sit over his lap, legs scandalously spread in front of his pelvis. You felt yourself heat up even more, especially the in-between of our legs. You were wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy white shirt, no bra. Heeseung snaked his arms up your back and pushed you even closer so your chest was flush with his. 

You were flustered at the feeling of your tits pressed up against him, and your shorts dampening ever so slightly with your arousal. 

“I bet I could be a better kisser than him,” Heeseung whispered. 

Your faces were so close now that one slight push would have your lips pressed up against each other. “We…We can’t do this Heeseung,” you managed to say.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He cupped your face, “you’re going to break up with anyways.”

“No, that’s not it,” you bit your lip and reached up, grasping onto his shoulder, “It just feels…I don’t know if Hojung will be happy with me—”

He placed a finger over your mouth, “Shh, enough of that. She doesn’t matter right now, and you do. What is it that you want?”

You leaned into his palm, ever so hypnotised by his stare. You stayed silent, your mind thinking of all the ways this may hurt Hojung. What if she thought of you as betraying her? You’ve always had feelings for him, but what if you succumbed to your desires as just a means of using him to get over your heartbreak? You cared far too much about Heeseung to do that to him. What if he just wanted to use you? 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Heeseung grabbed you tightly by the hips, making you rub your pelvis against his, not helping at all with your wave of arousal. You held back a whimper. “Tell me, gorgeous. What do you want?”

“I want you,” you finally pushed yourself against his lips. It didn’t take long for Heeseung to hold your head and push his tongue inside your mouth. The way he was using his tongue was making you hazy, not being able to suppress your noises any longer. It was rough and passionate. A fiery passion you weren’t used to. 

“Stay quiet, baby. Don’t want to wake anyone up, right?”

You nodded weakly, but you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to keep that promise. His tongue now latched onto your jaw and you clasped your lips together to hold back your whimper. Your squirming made Heeseung’s cock harden and stand up, and you began feeling sensitive to the feeling of his erection pressing up against you. 

It was almost involuntary the way you began grinding against his crotch, and you felt desperate. His lips were now on your neck and he grabbed a handful of your ass, steadily pushing you back and forth on his thighs. It made you see stars. 

It was embarrassing how you felt yourself nearing your orgasm just by this. You have been so sexually deprived and neglected it made you sensitive to real and passionate intimacy. It was in the feeling of your clit pressing against the fabric of your panties, and Heeseung’s hand inside your shirt playing and palming at your tits. Your nipples hardened at the pressure.

Fuck, you were going to cum practically untouched.

You quickened your pace, your hips beginning to tire as you started chasing the high.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” Heeseung whispered. You nodded meekly, not being able to speak a word. He gripped your hips, halting your movements. “Why don’t you take off your panties and ride my thigh? It will feel so much better.”

Although you were frustrated by having your pleasure taken away from you, you stood up on unbalanced legs in front of him once more. He put two fingers into the hem of your shorts and pulled you towards him. He leaned his head towards your leg and began placing kisses on your thigh as you felt your shorts slide down your legs and eventually pool on the floor.

“You’re fucking drenched,” you felt him place his fingers on the wet spot on your panties and whimpered at the feeling. “Have you ever been eaten out?”

You shook your head. Your boyfriend was the first sexual relationship you had, and he never seemed to be interested in making you feel pleasurable. You weren’t even sure if he knew how to.

“Bastard,” Heeseung murmured under his breath. He was utterly furious at how your boyfriend had practically been using you for his own pleasure like you were some object. He discarded your panties and pulled you back on his thigh.

Your clit came into contact with his thigh. He rocked you back and forth and your mind short-circuited at the friction of his jeans and your sensitive clit. You pressed your lips into his shoulders trying to muffle your moans, not trusting yourself to keep it in.

Heeseung was in bliss seeing you like this, desperate and beautiful and in utter pleasure. He felt his jeans get dampened from where your cunt was drooling on them. 

Because you were already so hot and stimulated, it didn’t take long for you to feel it. The feeling was almost foreign to you since it’s been so long since you’ve pleasured yourself. You were going to cum on his thigh. 

“I-I think…I’m close,” you whined.

“I know, baby,” he cupped the back of your head gently, “cum for me.”

You rolled your eyes back as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You felt it everywhere in your body. You wrapped your arms tightly around Heeseung’s torso, almost like you’d fly away if you weren’t anchored to him. He kept slowly pushing you on his thigh, gently helping you come down from your high.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” you said after you had time to calm down.

“Don’t thank me. Not yet,” he chuckled. You were confused until you felt yourself rise as he picked you up and began walking towards his bedroom.

He laid you gently on his bed and leaned down to press his lips on your forehead. You were prepared for him to fuck you some more, and as much as you were tired, a major part of you was excited at the thought of him wearing you out for the night. You were surprised when he stood back up and grabbed your phone out of his pocket. You had no idea how you got that.

“Open it,” he demanded. You did so, feeling upset at yourself for being so unquestioning and submissive. You couldn’t help yourself though as you had the utmost trust towards Heeseung. 

He went through your contacts and found the man he was looking for. His name on your phone was followed by a sparkly pink heart after it. It made him want to gag. He pressed the call button, surprised at how quickly the man picked up given how late it was into the night. “Babe?” came out of the other line.

He put it on speaker and handed you the phone. You were immensely afraid to take it, still hesitant about your ability to leave this dead relationship. “Tell him. Tell him now or I will,” he whispered spitefully. He wanted to watch you dump that pathetic excuse of a man before he let himself have you fully. 

He couldn’t give a fuck about how the other man felt about his girlfriend cheating on him, but he knew you needed to get this over with. He wanted you to forget your boyfriend and focus solely on him as he took you.

“Y/N, what do you want?” the voice on the phone came out harsh as he was getting annoyed at your silence, making Heeseung clench his fists. How dare he speak to you like that, he thought.

“H-Hi…I called because I wanted to tell you something,” you said gently. Heeseung was sure he did not deserve to hear your soft voice. 

“Okay? Well hurry the hell up, I want to sleep.” Heeseung felt himself holding back from becoming violent.

“I think…I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

“I…,” your eyes trailed towards Heeseung, looking for help. He held your hand to help comfort you, but he wasn’t about to break up with your boyfriend for you so he gave you a stern look to continue what you were saying. You decided to rip the bandaid and said, “I think we should break up.”

There was a silence on the other line until your boyfriend—now ex—began raising his voice and cursing at you, “You’re not fucking serious, Y/N. Is this seriously why you called me in the middle of the night? I mean, what the fuck?” You noticed Heeseung clench his jaw. “Go ahead, leave me. You’re just going to come crawling back when you can’t find someone who can put up with how boring you are. Honestly, you are suck a fucking bitch, too scared to—,” Heeseung grabbed the phone out of your hand.

There were tears welling up in your eyes, but you were trying your absolute best not to cry over this prick. You already embarrassed yourself enough. 

Heeseung knew he couldn’t yell in fear of waking up the others in the apartment, so he said as quietly as he could, “Listen here you fucking cunt. Speak to her like that again and I will rip your throat out with my bare hands, do you understand?”

“Who the fuck are you?” the man on the line spat, but you could hear the slight fear in his voice. Your ex has never been a particularly confident man around men who intimidated him. Heeseung’s strong presence was clearly making him feel inferior, even if it was through the phone.

“I said do you understand? Never call this number again. In fact, don’t step or look or breathe anywhere near her, asshole.”

“Are you fucking—,” Heeseung ended the call and blocked his number for good measure. 

Heeseung leaned down and pressed his forehead against your forehead, “How do you feel?”

Instead of responding you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his lips on yours. You felt like your body would not function unless he was on you. You didn’t want Heeseung to think you were upset over leaving your boyfriend, because you weren’t. You couldn’t give a fuck about him anymore, but fuck were you embarrassed by your cowardly attitude.

You may have been too weak to take action against your now ex-boyfriend, but you mustered up all of your strength to show Heeseung how much you wanted him, and solely him. 

He grabbed your waist and pushed your back on the mattress. You were moaning into each other’s mouths. It was hot and desperate. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand pinning your wrists above you, the other descending down to your waist and grinding into you. You moved your hips up to meet his, trying to satisfy your craving for getting him inside you. 

He kissed you one more time before trailing his mouth down your throat, eliciting louder moans out of you. “Please,” you begged. You moved your hands to try to take off his shirt, forgetting he had them restrained. 

Heeseung let go of your hands, but instead of undressing himself, he peeled off your white shirt, leaving your bare breasts on display for him. He couldn’t hold himself back from moaning, gripping one with his hands and wrapping his lips around the other. It was practically impossible to keep quiet at the feeling of his mouth flicking and sucking on your sensitive bud. 

You felt his fingers yet again, but this time on your bare cunt, making you flinch in sensitivity. “Heeseung…,” you said breathlessly.

“Baby, you’re drenched,” his eyes were like a predator before it was about to devour its prey. He moved down the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders, thighs resting comfortably on his shoulders. He began lapping at your hole, and it felt like this was all that he was made to do. He was meant to pleasure you and now that he has been given the chance, he won’t be able to live without the feeling of your arousal on his tongue.

He licked up all your juices and then moved up to begin sucking on your clit. You accidentally yelped, despite your desperate effort to stay quiet. Heeseung chuckled, and looked up at you, “Baby, I told you to stay quiet. Or would you rather I shove your face into the mattress and take you from behind?”

You clenched at the thought, not entirely sure if you would mind. It didn’t get past him how positively you reacted to his threat. “Next time,” he murmured before continuing the devouring of your cunt. 

Your hand was tightly pressed over your mouth as you felt yourself cum on his tongue, your body shaking as you began to take in the feeling of overstimulation. You don’t remember a time in your life when you’ve had more than one orgasm in a single night. Heeseung climbed up once more and placed a kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You taste incredible,” he groaned, making your face heat up in flames. You couldn’t believe he could say such intimate and coarse things so calmly. He began kissing your neck again, surely leaving a mark for tomorrow. That’s something your future self would have to worry about. 

He slid off his jeans and groaned as you reached down to cup his cock with your hand, mind going haywire at how massive it felt. You were nervous now to take it in your cunt, but he removed your hand and thrust himself inside you in one quick motion, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

You were both moaning now, your walls blaming around his cock from the pleasure, but partly due to your struggling of trying to take his size. You were still a bit too tight even with the two times he’s already made you cum. He let you slowly adjust to it before increasing his rhythm, pumping his cock more deeply and quickly.

His back was now littered with your scratches from clawing at him. He was pounding into you at a speed that was making it harder to form any thoughts. How could you, when you were having your guts rearranged by the man you’ve been in love with since you were a little girl? You felt his cock throbbing inside your walls, and you knew your climax was coming closer, as well as his.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum baby,” he breathed. He reached down and you felt his fingers playing with your clit, trying to get you to cum at the same time as you. Even if you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, the sounds of the bed creaking were not going to fool anyone who was awake at this time. 

“Cum inside me, p-please,” you managed to say in between whines. He didn’t object, and you felt your insides become hot as his seed spread inside you, coating your walls. At the same time, you clamped around his cock as you came with him. You gripped tightly at his back, needing him as close to you as humanly possible. 

Heeseung stayed still as he waited for you to calm down, running his hands up and down your waist to help warm you and stop your shaking. He pressed his forehead against yours. It was just you and him in this world, breathing slowly to each other’s rhythm. 

He knew you were exhausted, so he wasn’t about to bring it up now so as to not overwhelm you, but you were his now. You were now forever belonging to him. There is only one thing that will let him live a fulfilling life and it’s to keep you in his life, happy and protected.

While you were sound asleep, you didn’t even notice your phone vibrating throughout your sound slumber.

LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’m guessing you’re still asleep but…seriously girl. i’m glad you’re moving on from that garbage bin of a human (please please please tell me u broke up with him) but did you seriously have to do it with my OWN BROTHER????

LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’ll kill him if he hurts you i hope you know that.

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: are you guys together now or smth?

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: he’s never allowed back here again don’t argue with me istfg

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: UGH…YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING 🤮🤮 WAKE UP ALREADY SO I CAN BEAT YOUR ASSES 

KIM SUNOO [10:03]: Yeah…I’m not shocked in the slightest. 

[youreverydayfangirl]

READY FOR IT

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she's adjusted to a new life, she begins to let out her feelings and she meets someone new

warning: none i think this is a pretty cute chapter, maybe alchohol

a/n: another post omg?????

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

f1gossip has posted

liked by 120, 384 others

f1gossip Rumour has it that World Champion Max Verstappen and girlfriend Kelly Piquet have called it quits. The pair was last seen in Febuary earlier this year but an inside source reports they've been broken up since December. Thoughts?

user1 FINALLY

user2 not sure if this is really shocking to anyone

user3 NONONO THEY CANT BE

-> user4 get a life

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y/nsprivate has posted

liked by keekslikestospamm, thatoneartgirlalex and 23 others

y/nsprivate nothing just hot girl shit

tagged: livbereallydumb, itssabrinaaa

keekslikestospammmm livbereallydumb looking like a queen tbh

-> livbereallydumb don't you know it

thatoneartgirlalex whos the girl in the first slide?

-> livbereallydumb think its y/nsprivate not sure tho

-> y/nsprivate STAWP IT

leosfather i better be seeing you tomorrow

-> y/nsprivate TRUST QUEEN I'LL BE THERE

thatonefrenchguy FINALLY ON THE PRIVATE

-> y/nsprivate you better be grateful and also ill remove you if you get too annoying

-> thatonefrenchguy MEANNNN

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"Y/n. Hurry up please." Y/n rolled her eyes slightly at the persistence of her best friend who had literally just finished getting ready.

"I'm coming," Y/n replied, rolling her eyes with a grin. Tonight was Charles' 27th birthday, and they were all headed out to celebrate. When Y/n finally stepped out, Alex gave a low whistle.

"Wow, Y/n, you look amazing," she said, looking her up and down.

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n replied with a playful smile. "Where's the birthday boy? He can't be running late on his own night."

"Later than you are, which is ironic since he calls me the diva," Alex laughed, wrapping her arms around Y/n.

When Charles finally finished getting ready to go, the trio made their way to the car and headed to the small club Charles had booked for the night. As they drove, Y/n felt a quiet sense of peace settle over her, as if everything in her life might just be okay from here on out.

Arriving at the club, Y/n was greeted by a wave of familiar faces, triggering a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. Many of the people here were mutual friends she hadn’t seen since the breakup with Lando. They hadn’t necessarily taken sides, but after the split, they had drifted out of her life. She politely greeted a few, already dreading the day ahead.

As she made her way to get a drink Y/n bumped into someone, "Oh sorry I- Carlos." She said, suddenly feeling a very strong sense of uncomfort around herself. Whilst her and Carlos were very close during her relationship with Lando, Carlos picked his side and seemed to hate Y/n for it.

"Y/n," he replied sharply, his accent thick with a drunken edge. "How have you been?"

"Fine, thanks," she answered, keeping her tone polite. Before he could continue Charles appeared out of nowhere, throwing an arm around both of them. Whether he knew it or not, he relived the tension and Y/n was grateful for the interruption.

At the sight of his drunk friend, a huge smile spread across Carlos' face, and the two fell into more animated conversation. Y/n found her thoughts drifting. After saying she needed some air, Y/n slipped away and made her way to the balcony, leaning against the railing.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the soft click of the door opening.

"Oh, sorry... I didn’t realize anyone was out here," an awkward voice said, breaking the quiet. Y/n turned, a bit startled, and found herself face to face with someone she vaguely recognized but had barely spoken to, Max.

God, he’s gorgeous. It was the first thought that popped into her mind. His green eyes caught the light with a slight glitter, and a small, warm smile curved his lips. If looks could kill, she thought, feeling her cheeks warm. He was effortlessly handsome, too handsome, in fact.

As they shared a brief, almost charged silence, Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if he had a girlfriend, or how many hearts he’d broken along the way. Max cleared his throat, shifting his weight a little.

"Y/n," he greeted, straightening his back. She returned his smile, small but genuine. "You look great."

A small smile spread across her face, "Um thanks, you too."

"How’s Gizmo?" Max asked with a soft smile, moving to stand closer to her. Suddenly, any lingering awkwardness between them melted away.

"Um hes good." Y/n said, perking up at the mention of her cat. Something about that simple question made Y/n feel more comforted in his presence. Most people would ask how was she doing or ask about her music. But Max seemed more interested in the little things, who she was.

They slipped into an easy rhythm of conversation, eventually settling down on the balcony with their backs against the wall, the quiet hum of the party inside fading into background noise.

"So," Max began, a faint curiosity in his eyes, "are you seeing anyone at the moment?" His tone was casual, but there was something unguarded about the question that made her laugh.

"After everything that’s happened? Do you think anyone would want to date me?" she replied with a playful smile, although her tone held something else.

Max’s gaze softened. "Why wouldn’t they? You’re stunning, and you’ve got the personality to match."

"Haven't you heard what they’ve been calling me?" She tilted her head, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"I don’t make a habit of listening to the media," he said, shrugging. "I’d rather form my own perspective." His words were calm, but there was something unwavering in the way he looked at her, something that made her heart stumble in her chest.

She glanced away, her cheeks warming. "I don’t know how true that is," she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

Max leaned a little closer, his gaze never leaving her face. "Oh, come on. I bet you’ve stolen a lot of hearts."

The way he was looking at her, intensely, with a hint of admiration, made her feel as if she needed to break eye contact, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Just as she was about to respond, the door opened, and Kika’s voice floated over. "Y/n! Come on, come dance!"

Y/n smiled, nodding in acknowledgment. "Just a minute," she called back, then turned to Max. "I guess I’ll see you around?"

Max’s eyes sparkled, and he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Trust me, you will."

A few shots later Y/n found herself looking for a place to sit and gather herself for a minute. As she turned around the room she noticed him sitting on a barstool and made her way over to him.

"Not enjoying yourself?" She asked him and he instantly perked up at her voice. Something that he internally scolded him self for, don't make yourself seem desperate Max.

"No, I am," he replied, smiling, "just not a heavy drinker." He turned on the stool to face her fully, his posture relaxing as he settled into their conversation.

Suddenly, a familiar song came blaring through the speakers, "I love this song!" Y/n exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. Before she could say anything else, Max held out a hand, a playful smile on his lips.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, the formality in his tone nearly too gentlemanly for the club setting.

She gave him a soft smile and slid her hand into his. "Lead the way."

They wove through the crowd and onto the dance floor, where the music enveloped them. As they moved together, Max leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. "You know, you never answered my question. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

___________________

y/nsprivate has posted

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y/nsprivate CHA CHAS BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU BITCHHHHH

tagged: leosfather

leosfather the sister i never had

-> y/nsprivate pascale loves me more tho so...

-> leosfather here i thought you were being nice

-> y/nsprivate NEVERRR

thatoneartgirlalex meeting your wife through your boyfriend>>>

-> y/nsprivate exactly how it happened

keekslikestospammm you and max were looking VERY comfortable last night 👀

-> thatoneartgirlalex WHATTT

-> leosfather SPILL THE DEETS NOW

-> y/thatoneartgirlalex we're coming over now

-> leosfather im bringing champagne

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thatoneartgirlalex has posted

liked by y/nsprivate, leosfather and 43 others

thatoneartgirlalex you best believe the tea was spilt

tagged: y/nsprivate

y/nsprivate 👀👀

-> thatoneartgirlalex 🤐🤐

leosfather charles erasure 💔

-> y/nsprivate as it should be tbh

jimmyandsassysdad can i know the tea?

-> y/nsprivate what are you doing here?

-------------------------

charles to max

y/n and max

Unknown has been changed to Max

________________

i think this is pretty long but idk

any ways heres another part for you guys ;)

_________________

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[usagii-bun]

PART 2|| ⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+

PART 1 , PART 2

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, spanking, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language (these warnings are for all 3 parts)

this is extra long cause i combined chapters 2 and 3 together from ao3 <3

word count: 12.3k

also, please do like, reblog, and comment. i love to hear your thoughts about this <33

Alhaitham stumbled back into the apartment, the faint buzz of alcohol still lingering in his system. He was slightly tipsy, though not as far gone as his roommate Kaveh, who was practically hanging off his shoulder, muttering nonsense.

"Man, you’re so uptight, even when you're drinking," Kaveh slurred, squinting at Alhaitham as though he were the most complex puzzle in existence. "I swear, you could be at a rave and still look like you’re solving a theorem." He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty hallway.

Alhaitham rolled his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe I just have better things to think about than your drunken rambling," he shot back, guiding Kaveh to the couch before retreating towards his study. He'd had enough of Kaveh's inebriated philosophies for one night.

But Kaveh, as persistent as ever, wasn't finished. "Why don't you ever just… loosen up? You're going to get wrinkles from frowning so much." He waved a lazy hand in the air. "You should find a cam girl or something. It'd do you some good."

Alhaitham stopped in his tracks, turning to glare at his roommate. "That's not exactly my thing, Kaveh."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Kaveh mumbled something else, but by then, Alhaitham had already shut the door to his study, the noise fading behind him. Sitting down at his desk, he stared at the open books in front of him, trying to push the absurd conversation out of his mind. But Kaveh’s words lingered—annoyingly so. Loosen up, huh?

He huffed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of Kaveh’s drunken comment gnaw at him. It was ridiculous, really. Alhaitham didn’t need to "loosen up" in the way Kaveh suggested. He was perfectly content with his routine. Yet, for some reason, his mind kept circling back to Kaveh’s joke.

Cam girls.

Without much thought, and more out of curiosity than anything else, Alhaitham pulled his laptop closer, typing out a quick search. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just mindlessly scrolling through the thumbnails of various profiles. None of them really caught his interest. It all seemed so superficial, so far from anything that would actually intrigue him.

Until he accidentally clicked on a profile.

He almost clicked out of it immediately, but something made him pause. The girl on screen—her features were soft, her expression carefully masked, but there was something in her eyes. Pain, discomfort, maybe? She shifted, and he could see she was trying to hide it, to maintain the performance, but she was clearly not okay.

Before he realized what he was doing, his fingers flew across the keyboard, tipping her to stop. He wasn’t sure why he did it. Perhaps it was the urge to help, or just the fact that he couldn’t stand to see someone in obvious pain without intervening.

A notification popped up on her screen, and she blinked, pausing in the middle of whatever she was doing. Alhaitham watched as she read his message, a look of surprise briefly crossing her face before she stopped, offering a small, grateful smile in return.

He could have left it at that. He should have. But something kept him there, his hand hovering over the request for a private session. It wasn’t about pleasure—not in the way Kaveh had implied. No, this was different. He was curious, intrigued by her reaction, her vulnerability. Before he could second-guess himself, he sent the request.

When the private session began, her demeanour was noticeably more relaxed. She wasn’t putting on the same kind of show for him as she might for others, and that suited him just fine. They didn’t talk much. He asked her if she was okay, she reassured him that she was, and for the most part, he just watched. Not in a voyeuristic way, but as if observing something—someone—he didn’t quite understand.

And when it was over, he left.

He hadn’t planned on returning. Alhaitham chalked the whole thing up to an odd impulse, one brought on by Kaveh’s careless words. Yet, as the days passed, he found his mind drifting back to her. To the softness of her features, the way her smile had changed once she knew he wasn’t there to demand anything from her. The way she had looked so at ease, even in that strange, intimate setting.

It didn’t take long before he found himself on the site again. And again.

This time, he didn’t stop at curiosity. He began to indulge, slowly, cautiously, but undeniably drawn to her. There was something about her presence—her calmness, her smile—that tugged at him in ways he didn’t fully comprehend. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or maybe it was the contrast between her work and the moments where she let her guard down. Whatever it was, it kept pulling him back.

As the days slipped by, Alhaitham found himself returning to the site more often than he expected. It had started innocently enough, just curiosity, but now something deeper tugged at him. He’d try to focus on his work, bury himself in books, but she was always there, lingering in the back of his mind.

One night, after yet another exhausting day, he found himself logging in again, the familiar tension rising in his chest. He clicked onto her profile, waiting for the livestream to start. When she appeared on screen, his breath caught. She was wearing soft, black lingerie, the delicate lace hugging her body in a way that made his pulse quicken. There was something about the way she carried herself tonight—subtle, alluring, but also personal. Intimate, almost as if this performance wasn’t for the masses but for him alone.

Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, the screen casting a soft glow over his face as he watched her. She was teasing, slow and deliberate with her movements, but what really held him captive was the way she seemed… comfortable. Confident. It wasn’t just a performance anymore, and that realization stirred something in him.

When she shifted, her fingers trailing over her skin, he felt a heat pool low in his stomach. His gaze was fixed, his mind lost in the rhythm of her motions. He tried to keep himself detached, like he had before, but this time it was different. This time, he couldn’t stop the slow, building desire creeping through him.

She began to interact with her chat, answering questions with a soft, teasing smile, but it felt like her attention was elsewhere—on something more personal. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Alhaitham couldn’t shake the feeling that she was aware of him watching, that she knew he was there. As if the connection they had in that first private session hadn’t been fleeting.

And when she finally glanced at the camera, eyes half-lidded, her fingers trailing lower over the soft fabric of her lingerie, something snapped in him.

Before he could stop himself, he sent a request for a private session. The notification appeared on her screen, and her lips curled into a small, knowing smile. She accepted immediately, and the screen shifted, blocking out the rest of the audience until it was just the two of them.

The atmosphere was different this time—heavier, charged with an unspoken tension. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries, her fingers moving with more intent, a soft hum escaping her lips as she settled into the space they now shared. Alhaitham’s eyes followed every movement, the heat building inside him impossible to ignore now.

“Enjoying yourself tonight?” she asked, her voice low and sultry, though there was a flicker of genuine curiosity behind her words.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry as his nimble fingers typed a response.

User1102: You could say that.

Her lips parted in a slow smile as her hands continued their path across her body, teasing the lace of her lingerie aside just enough to reveal more of her soft skin. “You seem… different tonight.”

Alhaitham's fingers tightened around the edge of his desk. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but she wasn’t wrong. There was something about tonight, about her, that had shifted. Maybe it was the soft glow of her room, or the way the pink fabric contrasted against her skin. Maybe it was the knowledge that this moment was private, just between the two of them, that made everything feel more… intimate. More real.

He watched, entranced, as she slipped her hand lower, her breath hitching slightly. His pulse quickened, the tension in his body almost unbearable now. He could feel his own restraint slipping, the lines he had drawn for himself blurring.

This wasn’t just curiosity anymore. This was something else entirely.

His fingers quickly typed up a response, his breath already shallow as his eyes lingered at the top of her supple breasts.

Alhaitham didn't know what to feel but the feeling of his cock already straining against his pants, he's about to get his money's worth.

He was shirtless already due to the warm summer but he was already racking

up a cold sweat, he unbuttons his pants and pulls out his cock, hissing as it throbs at the sight of her in lingerie.

User1102: why don't you surprise me today, take control.

Her eyes glistened at his reply as she giggled. Her hand reaching out behind her as Alhaitham’s eyes widen.

"Fuck" He groans out, body shuddering at the large dildo she had in her hand. Her eyes flickering from the camera to the dildo as her lips trailed along the length of it sensual.

He watched with keen eyes as she brought the dildo down to her puffy pussy, juice already leaking from the hole— so much that she didn't even need lube to lubricate the dildo.

Alhaitham’s fist wrapped loosely around his hard cock, the veins pulsating against his hand as his brain became foggy.

He watched as she slowly pushed the tip inside of her, her pussy clenching tightly at the tip a high pitch moan escapes passed her parted gloss lips. Alhaitham's hand glided up his cock and to the tip as he squeezed it, imagining it was his big cock pushing through her tiny pussy.

He mimicked her pussy with his hand, imagining how tight she must be as she slowly pushed the dildo inside of her. Her thighs shaking, sweating glistening on them as she quickly reached down with her other hand to play with her puffy clit.

Alhaitham reached out with his one hand to type in a response as his cock was pulsating in his fist.

She was waiting for his next command even though he gave her the green light to do her own things.

User1102: such a good bunny. Such a good girl for me. Your pussy looks so stuffed, wished it was my cock in their instead.

Her eyes skimmed through the message, a messy moan leaves her mouth as she moves the dildo in her , a sloppy sound being her.

"I w-wish it was your cock. F-feels so good, would feel so much better if it was your thick cock in me-ahh" her words came out in a moan at the end as Alhaitham started moving his fist tightly on his cock to match the rhythm of her moving the dildo in her.

If he was there, he would move much faster. Pound her tight pussy until she was overflowing with his cum.

you’re so pretty, cheeks flushed and lips parting into the perfect orgasm face as your shaking arm reaches for your clit, eyes so hooded that you can barely see the screen in front of you.

Alhaitham’s hand pumps his cock a little faster, following the rough and fast circles you’re subjecting your aching clit to. He allows himself to groan loudly, gripping the arm of the chair as he thrusts up into his hand, pre-cum spilling over his shaft.

your high pitched moans are music to his ears and the twitching of your legs are proof of the pleasure that he’s indirectly causing.

your head’s thrown back, exposing your neck as your hips roll against the dildo, juices from your cunt sliding down your ass as it drenches the sheets below you.

“s-sir please! can i cum? please let me cum! i’ve been a good girl!”

tingles run down Alhaitham's spine as he hears your whiny voice beg.

His hand reaches out to type a quick response as his other furiously jerks his pulsating cock.

User1102: cum for me.

The chair creaking as he fucks his hand and your eyes scan the chat, you pinch your clit and scream, body convulsing as you cum all over the dildo.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck! i’m cumming !” you wail, back arching off the bed. your body stiffens at the uncomfortable position as a stream of clear liquid shoots out of your pussy, drenching your soiled sheets even more.

Alhaitham follows suit, moaning as white spurts of cum shoot out of his cock, staining his thighs and abs. eyes dark and mind hazy from his orgasm, your eyes are heavy and lidded when you sit up, chest heaving and nipples aching as the toy slowly leaves your pussy, whining as you feel your juices slide down your ass.

Alhaitham's eyes widen when you fumble around the dildo and pulled the toy that’s shining and glistening with your essence.

you put the wet and warm toy in your mouth, sucking and licking like you would on a real cock. Alhaitham groans, closing his eyes as he hears you moan, tasting yourself on the toy.

The sound going straight to his cock again as images start to form in his mind, imagining you doing that to him, choking on his cock before he grabs your hips, giving ut a squeeze and slaps your ass, entering your needy pussy in one hard thrust.

you practically crawl towards the laptop, eyes sultry and inviting before you pull the toy out of your mouth with a wet pop and throw a dazzling smile at the camera, as if you didn’t get ruined by a silicone cock a few moments before.

“i hope you enjoyed the show, sir. but i wish it was your real cock that made me cum and squirt like that.”

with one last wink to the camera, you end the stream.

Alhaitham body slumped on his chair, eyes staring at the blank laptop screen as his gaze fell above him on his ceiling. His breathing erratic as his gazes falls on his cock that had harden once again.

'Fuck'

'Fuck'

Alhaitham stood at the entrance of the lecture hall, his usual calm exterior masking the storm of disbelief swirling inside him. His eyes scanned the room, moving over the rows of students until they landed on you. There you was—sitting in the back, casually leaning over your desk, looking as though you was about to drift off to sleep. You looked so different from the confident, alluring woman he'd been captivated by just last night, completely unaware of the private session that now hung heavy between them.

The sudden images of you sucking on the dildo flashed in his mind, your moan echoing in his head as he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep moving, though his steps felt heavier. His thoughts raced. How could this happen? Out of all the people who could have been sitting in his classroom, it had to be you—the woman who had unknowingly shaken him to his core.

Clearing his throat, he stood at the front of the room, addressing the class. “There will be a pop quiz today, ” he announced, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. The class erupted into groans as he forced himself not to roll his eyes "you would know this if you saw the email last night and prepared."

“Old-fashioned, on paper.” Alhaitham also stated as he began handing out the papers, his focus was everywhere but where it should be. He moved down each row, handing out the sheets with mechanical precision, his gaze subtly darting toward the back where you sat, unbothered by the sudden quiz.

Reaching your row, he slowed. You was sitting at the end, your usual nonchalance etched on your face as you glanced at the blank paper. He handed the quiz to the student beside you, who passed it down until it reached you. But something within him made him pause.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, holding the next sheet in his hand. As he approached you, your hands brushed—just for a moment, just enough to send a jolt of awareness through his entire body. Your skin was warm against his, and the contact sent an unexpected tingle up his arm. It was as if time froze, the casual touch sparking something deep inside him.

He pulled his hand back quickly, almost too quickly, and felt the weight of your gaze lift to him. He could feel the heat rise to his neck, but he kept moving, walking down the next row as if nothing had happened.

But something had changed.

Alhaitham sat at his desk, attempting to focus on the papers in front of him, but all he could think about was the feel of your skin brushing against his. His fingers still tingled, the sensation lingering in his mind far longer than it should have. He glanced up, watching as you lazily scribbled answers on your quiz, unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

He shook his head, mentally chastising himself.

' You’re her professor. This cannot happen.'

His gaze falls back on his laptop, an email from the Dean of the university had popped up. His eyes furrow to see that she would like to talk to him after his current lecture. An annoyed sigh escaping past his lips.

'Great. They problem want me to do something for them.'

And he was right.

Alhaitham leaned against the wall of the dean’s office, arms crossed, his mind a tumultuous storm of conflicting thoughts. Rukkhadevata sat across from him, a knowing look in her eyes as she shuffled through a few papers on her desk. The room was adorned with academic awards and a bookshelf brimming with scholarly texts, giving it an air of seriousness and authority.

“Alhaitham, I appreciate you coming by on such short notice,” she began, her voice calm and inviting. “I wanted to discuss an opportunity for a student who’s expressed a keen interest in linguistics and academia.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet wary. “Who is it?” he asked, though he already felt the shadows of doubt creeping in.

“Her name is [Your Name]. She’s in her fourth year, and I believe she could greatly benefit from shadowing you during your afternoon lectures with the first-year students.” Rukkhadevata paused, observing his reaction.

Alhaitham's brows scrunched in thought, he had heard the name a few times from other professors and also knows he has someone named that in his class but he don’t know how that person looks.

“I see,” he replied,, dryly. “But does she have the necessary background to assist? I teach advanced concepts that require a solid foundation.”

Rukkhadevata nodded, her expression resolute. “She’s demonstrated exceptional aptitude in her studies, particularly in linguistics. This experience could be pivotal for her. You know as well as I do that sometimes, a little guidance can ignite a passion for research and teaching in a student.”

Alhaitham contemplated her words, it would be a good learning ground for him to. Understanding the mind of a student and how they think when teaching a lecture but also it means his personal time in his office will be cut short as the student will need to shadow him.

“What if I’m not comfortable with the arrangement? There are other professors who can take her on,” he suggested, his tone more curt than intended.

“Alhaitham,” she replied, her voice steady and reassuring. “I understand your reservations, but I truly believe this is a unique opportunity for both of you. If you don’t take her on, there’s another professor, Tighnari, who would be more than willing to open the spot for her. He already has a student named Collei shadowing him but I don’t want her to miss out on this chance as you're qualified in the linguistics department.”

With a sigh, Alhaitham pushed himself off the wall “Very well,” he conceded, the words slipping out before he could fully process them. “I’ll take her on.”

“Great! I’ll inform her immediately. You’ll meet with her after her morning lectures, and we can discuss the schedule,” Rukkhadevata said, a pleased smile gracing her features.

As Alhaitham left her office, his mind drifted back to you. His mind in a turmoil not knowing what to do. How is going to lecture in a class knowing that he gets off to one of his students ?

The next day, Alhaitham sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the clock as the minutes ticked by. Ten minutes late. His jaw clenched slightly. He didn’t tolerate lateness, especially not from someone who was supposed to shadow him. He hated wasted time, and this student had already made a poor impression.

Just as he was about to rise from his chair to leave the office to attend to other matters, the door creaked open. His irritation sharpened, but as the door swung wide, his thoughts ground to a halt.

His eyes widened as he realized you were standing in the doorway.

You walked into the room, slightly out of breath, looking a bit flustered. At first, it was just shock. Of all the students, of all the people—it was you, the cam girl he'd been watching for a month, the same girl who had held his attention in ways he couldn’t quite understand. Seeing you here, in front of him, outside of the screen and now close up, was a jarring collision of his two worlds.

For a moment, he was silent, his gaze trailing over you. You looked different in person, softer maybe, but still just as striking. His eyes flicked to the way your hair framed your face, the way you nervously shifted from foot to foot. But then reality hit him like a cold wave. You were here, standing in his office, his student.

He quickly masked his shock, his expression hardening. “You’re late,” he said, his voice colder than he intended, almost biting. “Ten minutes late.”

You blinked, clearly not expecting the harsh tone. “I’m sorry—I got a little lost.”

He let out a small, frustrated breath, trying to gather himself. “Being lost isn’t an excuse. If you’re going to shadow me, I expect punctuality. I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

You nodded, looking slightly out of place, like you weren’t sure where to stand or what to do with your hands. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He glanced at you again, his mind still whirling. He couldn’t believe it. The girl he had been watching from behind the safety of a screen, whose cam sessions had been a guilty distraction late at night, was standing right in front of him. And you had no idea who he was other than being your professor.

“Your name is Y/N, correct?” He forced his voice to remain steady, trying to push aside the surreal nature of this situation.

“Yes,” you answered, shifting under his gaze.

“Good,” he muttered, his hand tightening around the edge of his desk. He had to regain control of this conversation—this situation. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by you, not now, not ever. “We’ll start tomorrow. You’ll shadow me throughout the day. I’ll send you your schedule later.”

You nodded again, still looking somewhat nervous, and something about it tugged at him, though he immediately pushed the thought away.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some normalcy in the moment. But the tension lingered, thick in the air. You noticed, of course, the subtle way he shifted, his eyes darting away from yours as if trying to hide something.

“Are you alright?” you asked softly, your concern genuine, though you had no idea why he was acting this way.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, but then, catching himself, he softened his tone. “I’m fine. That will be all.”

You looked like you were about to say something more, but instead, you simply nodded and turned to leave.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His mind raced. He had thought about assigning you to someone else—maybe Tighnari—but now that idea seemed impossible. The thought of someone else mentoring you made him feel… unsettled. No, he would have to handle this himself, regardless of how difficult it might become.

He closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the room wash over him. Tomorrow, he would have to keep his distance, keep things professional. But even now, your face lingered in his mind, and he knew it wouldn’t be as simple as he hoped.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was the first day, and you were already regretting being assigned to shadow Professor Alhaitham. After how he had embarrassed you for being late for class and yesterday, you dreaded the idea of spending more time with him. He was a sharp-tongued, cold-hearted ass, but you couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. Shadowing him would be invaluable for your studies, even if his attitude grated on your nerves.

You glanced at your watch. It was almost 1 p.m., the time for Alhaitham’s first-year lecture. With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a compact mirror and lipstick, deciding to retouch it before the lecture started. As you carefully applied the soft shade to your lips, the reflection in the mirror shifted, and you caught sight of him standing at the doorway, staring at you.

Heat rushed to your face, and your hand paused mid-swipe. You could feel his gaze burning into you, intense and unwavering. His eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes in the mirror, and you quickly snapped the compact shut, turning around to face him with a flustered expression.

Alhaitham didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not sure why you’re putting on lipstick right before a lecture,” he remarked, his voice smooth but laced with the kind of dry sarcasm that left you unsure whether it was meant to insult or simply observe. “It’s not like that will help you retain the content better.”

Your blush deepened at the jab, but there was no real malice in his tone. It was just his way. You pursed your lips slightly, resisting the urge to snap back, instead choosing to stay silent. He crossed the room with that same calm, collected air he always had, handing you a stack of papers.

“You’ll need these,” he said, his tone shifting back to business. “I’m giving them a quiz—similar to what I did with your class the other day. After the lecture, you’ll stay back and mark them with me.”

You stared at the stack of papers in your hand, feeling the weight of both the physical and mental load. The thought of sitting with him after school, going through these quizzes together, made you groan under your breath, though not loud enough for him to hear clearly. The last thing you wanted was to spend more time than necessary with him, especially after his cold remarks the day before.

He raised an eyebrow at your reaction but didn’t comment, his expression unreadable. “Complaining won’t make the work go away,” he said mildly, as if already expecting your frustration. “Better get used to it.”

You forced a small smile and nodded, begrudgingly accepting your fate. There was no point arguing. You had signed up for this, after all.

As you followed Alhaitham into the lecture hall, the low hum of students settling into their seats filled the room. You tried not to think about how you’d have to sit with him for hours after school, marking these quizzes. The thought was frustrating, but you kept reminding yourself it was just part of the process. You could handle this.

You settled yourself at the front of the room, laying the stack of quizzes on the desk. Alhaitham began the lecture with his usual confidence, pacing in front of the first-years as he spoke. His voice was steady and sure, effortlessly commanding the room’s attention. It was infuriating how composed he always seemed, never faltering, never showing the slightest hint of emotion beyond his cool detachment.

You found yourself staring at him again, and it annoyed you. How could someone be so frustratingly perfect? His words flowed perfectly, understandable yet his aloofness made it difficult to even like him. It didn’t help that his eyes flickered in your direction occasionally, almost as if he was checking to see if you were paying attention.

Halfway through the lecture, he handed you the quizzes to distribute. You moved through the rows of students, handing them out with a forced smile. Some students gave you sympathetic looks, clearly sensing you were stuck with the task of marking them all later.

As the lecture ended, the bustling sounds of students leaving the hall began to die down. You stood at the back, waiting for the right moment to catch up to Alhaitham. Your fingers drummed nervously on the edge of your notebook, replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. You are stuck with him for the rest of the semester, shadowing his every move as part of the research assistantship you needed for your degree.

He’d embarrassed you once already, calling you out in front of the class on the first day for being late. Now, even though you couldn’t stand his arrogance, you couldn’t afford to let this opportunity go. The problem was, he knew that too. You saw it in his eyes when he handed you those quizzes earlier. There was something so self-assured about him, a smugness that made your blood boil. But still, he had that quiet, undeniable intelligence about him that, annoyingly enough, you found yourself drawn to.

By the time you reached his office, the sun had begun its descent, casting the room in a warm golden hue. Alhaitham's office exudes elegance and order. A polished mahogany table sits at the center, topped with a laptop, a pen, and leather-bound notebooks. Behind it, a high-backed leather chair adds authority and another simpler chair was seat across his table. Floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books and files line the walls, matching the table’s dark wood. Soft light filters through a large window, highlighting a plush Persian rug beneath. A corner features two leather armchairs and a small coffee table, perfect for meetings, while subtle luxuries and framed art complete the space’s refined atmosphere.

Alhaitham's office mirrors his sharp, organized mind—sophisticated, orderly, and rich with knowledge.

 He motioned for you to sit down, his gaze lingering on you as you did.

“here is the quizzes for you to mark. Atleast today you start off with something light.” he said, handing you a fresh stack of papers, his fingers brushing yours again as they had earlier. A small, unintentional jolt of electricity ran up your arm from the brief contact, and you quickly withdrew your hand, focusing on the task in front of you. You tried to ignore the way his presence loomed across the desk, calm but somehow intense.

As you started marking, the silence between you grew thicker. It wasn’t the kind of silence that brought comfort—it felt like there was something unspoken, hanging heavy in the air between you. Every once in a while, you could feel his gaze shift toward you, studying you before returning to his own stack of papers. You nibbled on your bottom lip absentmindedly, concentrating on the quiz in front of you, when you felt it again—his eyes on you.

You looked up, catching him staring at you. His expression was unreadable, but there was a moment, a flicker of something in his eyes, before he quickly looked away. Your heart skipped a beat, your lips parting in surprise. What was going on with him?

After a few moments, he broke the silence. "Grab that book for me, will you?" He pointed to a high shelf behind you, his voice cool and even as ever.

You stood, walking over to the shelf and craning your neck to reach the book he’d indicated. It was too high, and as you stretched up on your tiptoes, your skirt began to lift slightly. You felt a twinge of annoyance as your fingers just barely grazed the edge of the book.

Behind you, Alhaitham remained silent, but unbeknownst to you, his eyes were locked on your figure. He couldn’t help but notice the way your skirt rode up slightly, revealing the plump of your tighs, those exact same thighs that were squeezed into tight sheer stockings, with liquid from your greedy pussy soaking them. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts racing despite himself. His mind wandering just how soft those thighs would feel arpund his head, squeezing him as he gets to feast on your pussy.  

He had to keep it together.

Finally, you gave up with a sigh, your arm dropping back to your side. Without a word, Alhaitham stood up and walked over to you, his tall frame easily reaching the book that had eluded you. 

"If you’re going to struggle, at least do it more efficiently," he muttered, the words laced with a faint edge of amusement.

You scowled at him. "You could have just taken the book yourself," you replied, trying to mask your irritation. His words weren’t exactly harsh, but there was always that intellectual superiority in his tone that grated on you.

He had a subtle smirk graced upon his lips "from what I've heard, my mentee should be hands down and do anything I ask." His voice putting more emphasis on 'anything I ask' his light turquoise eyes stare at you, something hidden behind the light glaze in them. You quickly look away, a red coat of blush on your cheeks as you walked back to the desk.

After you both settled back into marking the quizzes, the soft scratching of pens filled the small office space. It was quiet, but the air between you still buzzed with unspoken tension. You tried to focus on grading the papers, but your mind kept wandering to him—his presence just across the desk, the way his gaze sometimes lingered a little too long.

You were halfway through another quiz when a shadow loomed over you. Alhaitham had stood up and moved around the desk, coming to stand right behind you. His tall frame towered over your seated position, and you froze, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. The subtle scent of his cologne—clean, earthy, with a hint of something spicy—washed over you, clouding your mind and making it difficult to focus on the paper in front of you.

"Why do you think this answer is wrong?" he asked, leaning down slightly, his voice low and calm but close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath near your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a second, you forgot how to speak. You glanced at the paper, trying to recall what you had marked incorrectly, but the heat radiating from his body and the soft scent of his skin distracted you completely. The closeness of him was overwhelming—his presence, his scent—it all clouded your thoughts until you had to force yourself to snap back into the present.

"Uh… they got the concept of phonetics mixed up with phonology," you stammered, swallowing nervously. "Phonetics is about the sounds themselves, while phonology is about how those sounds function in particular languages."

Alhaitham said nothing for a moment, just staying there, hovering behind you. His proximity made your pulse race, and you could feel the warmth of his body just inches from yours. He leaned in a little more, his fingers tracing the lines of the quiz. Your heart was hammering now, and you cursed yourself for letting your mind wander so much.

"Good," he finally said, straightening back up and, to your surprise, gently patting your head.

The simple, unexpected gesture sent a rush of warmth straight to your cheeks. Your heart fluttered, and you were sure your face had gone bright red. You bit your lip, willing yourself to stay composed, but your thoughts betrayed you. The small pat—so casual, almost paternal—made your mind spin in ways you didn’t expect.

As he moved back to his seat, you sat there for a moment, frozen in place. You couldn’t help but think about how his hand had felt, the gentle pressure on your head, and the surprising warmth it brought. You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus again, but the thought lingered. What if he patted your head every time you gave the right answer?

The idea was ridiculous, but it made your heart race anyway. You could feel the heat rising to your face again, and you had to fight the urge to look at him. You wondered if he noticed how flustered you were, but when you glanced over at him, he was already back to grading, his expression unreadable, as always.

Keep it together, you scolded yourself. This was your professor, and you had to maintain some level of professionalism. But a tiny part of you—the part that was growing more curious about him by the minute—couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had noticed your blush.

After the marking, Alhaitham stood up again, gesturing for you to follow him as he headed to his bookshelf. You were still dazed from earlier, but you followed him. He asked you to grab a specific book from the top shelf, but again, it was just out of your reach. You stretched as far as you could, the hem of your skirt lifting slightly as you did. You could feel his eyes on you again, a little more intense this time.

He stepped forward, his presence suddenly looming behind you once more. His hand brushed yours as he reached up easily to retrieve the book. He didn’t say anything at first, but as he handed it to you, his lips quirked into a small, barely-there smirk.

"Struggling again, I see," he muttered, the words laced with that same intellectual superiority you’d come to expect from him. It wasn’t exactly mean, but it stung enough to make your cheeks burn.

You huffed quietly, taking the book from him and returning to your seat. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as he walked back to his desk, but you refused to meet his eyes, determined to ignore the strange tension that had only grown stronger between you.

The marking continued, but your focus was slipping. You kept sneaking glances at him, noticing the small things—how his fingers moved deftly over the papers, how his jaw tensed slightly when he was deep in thought. And then, there were those moments when his eyes would flick to your lips, just for a second, before he quickly looked away.

You absentmindedly nibbled on your bottom lip, a nervous habit you’d had for years, but this time, when you caught him staring at you, his gaze lingered a little too long. His eyes traced the movement of your lips, and for a brief second, something flickered in his expression. He quickly shook his head, as if clearing his mind, and returned to his work.

By the time you finished, the sun had set completely, and the warm glow from the office lamps cast a soft light over the room. Alhaitham glanced at the clock, his usual calm demeanor slipping back into place.

"It’s nearly past 5," he said, standing up and gathering his papers. "You’re dismissed."

You exhaled a sigh of relief, standing and grabbing your bag. As much as you had been dreading this day, it had passed more smoothly than you expected, though it had left you with far more questions than answers. There was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you.

As you both stepped outside, the cool evening air hit you, much cooler than you had anticipated. You rubbed your arms, feeling the chill sink in, and muttered under your breath, "Strange how chilly it’s gotten, even though it’s still summer."

Alhaitham paused, glancing over at you before shrugging off his coat. He held it out to you, his expression unreadable.

"Here," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

You blinked in surprise. "I’m fine, really. I don’t need—"

"Take it," he interrupted, his gaze steady.

After a moment’s hesitation, you took the coat, wrapping it around yourself. It was far too big on you, but it was warm, and the subtle scent of him clung to the fabric. The same scent that had distracted you earlier in his office now enveloped you completely, and it made your heart race all over again.

"Thanks," you mumbled, adjusting the coat around your shoulders.

He simply nodded, and the two of you continued walking in silence. The tension between you had shifted, but it was still there, just beneath the surface, and as you parted ways at the end of the path, you couldn’t help but wonder—was he thinking about you the way you were thinking about him? Did he know?

As you watched him walk away, the weight of his coat on your shoulders felt heavier than it should, like it carried with it all the unspoken words and lingering tension between you.

As you walk home, the weight of Alhaitham's coat feels heavier than it should, not just physically, but emotionally. The warmth still clings to you, along with that subtle, distinct scent that belongs to him—earthy, clean, and with just a hint of spice. It feels oddly intimate, like a lingering piece of him you hadn't expected to carry home with you. Each step you take, wrapped in his coat, makes you more aware of its significance. It’s just a piece of fabric, but the way it rests on your shoulders, warm and protective, makes it feel like more than that.

When you finally reach your apartment, you sigh, pulling the keys from your bag. Inside, you place the bag of takeout on the table with little care, too tired and too distracted to do anything but collapse for a moment. You peel off the coat, draping it on the couch, and immediately feel the loss of warmth as it leaves your shoulders. For a brief moment, you consider folding it neatly, but instead, you leave it there, trying to detach yourself from the way your thoughts kept wandering to him—your arrogant, handsome professor.

You settle at the table, opening the takeout container as your mind drifts back to the way he had looked at you earlier in his office. That gaze of his—intense, intelligent, and just a little too observant—had lingered far too long. You shake your head, trying to focus on eating, but it’s impossible. His voice, his presence, the feeling of his hand patting your head—it all keeps pulling you back.

You finish eating faster than usual, your thoughts occupied with him the entire time. As you pick up the coat from the couch to take it to your room, you catch a whiff of his scent again. You freeze, the familiar scent sending your mind spiraling into thoughts you shouldn’t be having. Images flash through your mind—his tall, strong build, the way he had stood so close behind you, his fingers brushing yours when you reached for that book. The fog of those inappropriate thoughts clouds your mind, and for a brief moment, you can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to be closer to him, how he looked under that dress shirt he wore today.

Shaking your head quickly, you scold yourself, forcing those thoughts away as you hang the coat in your cupboard, making a mental note not to forget it tomorrow. You won’t let it cloud your judgment any further. You take a deep breath, pushing those thoughts out of your head as you begin getting ready for your cam session.

As you're about to log in, your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from the screen. You grab it, expecting some usual notification, but your eyes widen slightly when you see the message is from Alhaitham. You hadn’t even realized he had your number—until now.

Alhaitham: I got your number from the system. You’ll need to make a vocabulary list for the first-year lecture tomorrow. I’ve attached some resources to help. Be sure to finish this before class.

You groan, dropping your phone onto the bed. Of course, he’d send you more work just when you were about to start your cam session. You sigh deeply, throwing yourself back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. There’s no avoiding it—he's your professor, and as much as he irritates you with his superior attitude, you can't ignore his requests.

Sitting up, you rub your temples and switch gears, deciding to get the task done first. As much as you’d rather jump into your session, you can’t afford to leave it undone. You spend the next hour or so compiling the list, working through the vocabulary terms as your mind buzzes with thoughts of how annoyingly persistent Alhaitham is. He always seems to know just when to give you extra work, like he's testing your patience on purpose.

By the time you finally finish, it’s much later than you'd planned. 

You noticed something different as you scrolled through your cam site, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. User1102 didn’t show up tonight. In fact, he hadn’t for the past few nights. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t like you knew who he was. But still, he had always been there, watching, engaging, giving you a sense of consistency. Now, his absence felt louder than the other users’ presence, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange sadness.

Shaking off the thought, you closed your laptop and leaned back. It was just a coincidence, right? People came and went all the time on these sites. But as you prepared for bed, you found your mind wandering to him—wondering why he wasn’t there, wondering who he really was. Little did you know, Alhaitham had been avoiding the site ever since the first lecture.

It has now been nearly two weeks. From those two weeks you only spent about 6 days after lessons in his office helping with filling forms. You had gotten used to your routine with your professor, he gives you work to do, you do it and if he feels 'generous' he gives you a thick stack of papers to mark, now handing you long essays that make your brain ache. 

You noted that there was still an awkward tension between the two of you, he seemed to want to avoid you as much as possible. When you are alone with him, he would sit far from you but you could feel his sharp eyes on you from time to time. 

One of the days you wore a short skirt, the skirt was going to shorten Alhaitham's life. It showed your supple thighs, a pen fell. Cliché but you of course had to bend down to pick the pen in front of your poor professor who caught sight of your pure white cotton underwear.

 This lead to him dismissing you harshly to go home early. Poor little you thought you did something wrong, so the next day you went to apologize to him for anything you had done to annoy him, this caused the arrogant professor's heart to skip a beat, from that day on he started to talk to you in a calm tone. Alhaitham noticed you thrived on praises.

He once slipped and had called you a 'good girl' and gave your head a gentle pat, when you had completed a whole pile of essays, each one checked properly. Your face turned a pretty shade of pink. 

The words "t-thank you professor" stumbling out of your plump lips, this left Alhaitham's imagination to go wild that night, jerking off to his sweet student, who has such an innocent facade when she is fully clothed but when she is bathed in the LED lights of her room and wearing a sheer outfit..the innocence long gone.

 Alhaitham however, did stop watching her session as much as it pained him but he felt guilty to watch you now, knowing that you're his student and he is your professor..however the idea of bending you on the very desk the both of you shared always crosses his mind. 

It was the end of another long day, and you were packing up the last of your things in Alhaitham's office when you noticed the rain pouring outside, drumming steadily against the windows. The thought of walking home in that downpour made you shiver, and to make matters worse, you had forgotten your jacket. Again.

As you stood there, awkwardly rubbing your arms for warmth, Alhaitham appeared in the doorway. His expression was, as usual, unreadable, but his sharp eyes quickly assessed the situation.

“You forgot your jacket again,” he observed, his voice low and calm.

You gave a sheepish nod, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah, seems to be a habit at this point.”

Without a word, he slipped off his coat—the one he always wore that made him seem so imposing—and handed it to you. The fabric was still warm from his body, the faint smell of his cologne lingering on it. You hesitated for a moment, but the cold air persuaded you to accept it gratefully.

“Thanks,” you murmured, slipping the jacket over your shoulders. It was far too big, enveloping you in its warmth.

He stepped back slightly, his eyes lingering on you, though his face remained stoic. “You shouldn’t walk in the rain like this. I’ll drive you home.”

You blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he interrupted, already making his way towards the door.You reluctantly, following him, it was clear he wasn’t letting you walk in the rain tonight.

Outside, the rain had picked up, and you were more than a little relieved that Alhaitham had offered a ride. But what you hadn’t expected was the sleek black sports car waiting for you in the lot. Your eyes widened as he unlocked the doors with a soft click.

“This is your car?” you asked, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Yes,” he replied simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

You slid into the passenger seat, feeling slightly out of place in such an expensive, low-riding car. The leather seats were cool against your skin, and the interior was immaculate. Alhaitham climbed in beside you, starting the engine with a soft purr. The sound sent a shiver through you, though you weren’t sure if it was the car or just the fact that you were sitting so close to him.

As he drove, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he handled the car. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a practiced ease, and his posture was relaxed, but there was a certain control in every movement. You found yourself stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering in a way that felt all too unfamiliar. The rain blurred the world outside, making the inside of the car feel small, intimate.

Your thoughts began to wander, and before you could stop them, you found yourself admiring the way his hair fell slightly over his forehead, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes stayed focused on the road with that quiet intensity he always had. Everything about him seemed so… controlled, so perfect.

You bit your lip, trying to push the thoughts away. This was your professor, after all. But it was hard to ignore the way your heart sped up each time you caught a glimpse of him.

As if sensing your gaze, he cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving the road. “You’re quiet.”

You blinked, feeling caught. “Oh, sorry. Just… thinking.”

“About?” he asked, though his tone didn’t push for an answer.

“Nothing important,” you mumbled, feeling your face grow warm.

The silence returned, heavy with tension, and you found yourself growing more aware of how small you felt in his car. Every bump in the road seemed to jolt your heart, especially with the way he drove—smooth, fast, and with a precision that made you feel oddly vulnerable.

Finally, he pulled up outside your apartment building. T.he downpour was relentless, heavy raindrops hammering against the sleek black car as you sat next to Alhaitham. The windscreen wipers were moving fast, but it was as if the rain refused to let up, trapping you both in the warmth of the vehicle.

You glanced outside, watching the rain blur the streetlights into hazy orbs of light. "I guess I should go," you murmured, though you didn’t make any move to open the door.

Alhaitham's hand remained on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the rain. "Wait," he said, his voice calm but firm. "It's coming down too hard. You’ll be drenched in seconds."

You looked at him, startled by his concern. His expression was unreadable as always, but there was something about the way his gaze softened as it shifted from the rain to you. The inside of the car felt too small suddenly, the air charged with something more than just the weather outside.

"You're right," you agreed quietly, settling back into the seat, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The silence stretched between you, the sound of rain enveloping the car in a bubble of quiet tension.

After a few moments, Alhaitham spoke, his voice breaking through the soft patter of the storm. "You don’t mind waiting, do you?"

You shook your head. "No… not at all."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked out at the rain again. "I’ve never really liked storms," he confessed. "Too unpredictable. But I guess that’s what makes them interesting, isn’t it?"

The unexpected admission surprised you. Alhaitham was always so composed, always so in control. Hearing him speak of unpredictability was strange, almost like he was revealing a part of himself he usually kept hidden.

"I suppose," you replied, your voice softer now, feeling the undercurrent of something deeper. "But sometimes, unpredictability can be… exciting."

His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable passing through them. "Exciting?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze. "Yeah. It keeps things from becoming too… predictable."

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, a barely-there smile, but it sent a rush of warmth through you. His hand shifted on the gearstick, fingers brushing lightly against yours as you moved to rest your hand on your lap. The touch was so fleeting, so subtle, yet it made your pulse quicken.

"What about you?" he asked, his voice low. "Do you like storms?"

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. "I… don’t mind them. I think they can be beautiful. Powerful."

He nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. "Powerful, yes."

There was a pause, and then he added, "But dangerous too."

You felt the weight of his words, the way they seemed to carry a deeper meaning, one that made your heart pound in your chest. The rain continued to pour, but the world outside felt distant, irrelevant. All that mattered was the man sitting beside you, his voice, his presence.

"I guess," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "there’s beauty in danger too."

His eyes darkened slightly, his jaw tightening as if your words struck something within him. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, the air between you charged with an almost unbearable tension.

"You have a unique way of looking at things," he said finally, his voice so low it sent a shiver down your spine. "I’ve noticed that about you."

You blinked, feeling your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Oh… I—thank you."

The rain began to lighten, the heavy downpour turning into a soft drizzle. Alhaitham shifted in his seat, but he didn’t start the car. Instead, his eyes remained on you, as if searching for something in your expression.

"Why are you always walking in the rain without a coat?" he asked, his tone almost teasing now. "You’ll catch a cold one day."

He was referring to the few mornings you entered lectures soaking like a drowned rat, either the coat your wore just got soaked completely through or you were rushing and forgot half of yourself back at home.

You let out a small laugh, though your heart was still pounding. "I… don’t know. I guess I never really think about it. Besides, it’s not that bad."

He raised an eyebrow. "Not that bad? You’re soaked every time."

You shrugged, trying to play it off, but the way he was looking at you made your mind fuzzy. "Maybe I like the rain."

His lips quirked again, and he reached for the coat you he let you borrow before. "Keep it," he said, draping it over your lap again, the fabric warm from his touch. "I’d rather not see you walking around soaked again."

You stared at the coat, your throat tightening. His jacket smelled faintly of him, a comforting, subtle scent. Your fingers gripped the edges of the fabric, feeling overwhelmed by the simple act of kindness.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft patter of rain.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, watching you for a moment longer before speaking again, his voice soft but filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You look good in it," he said, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your cheeks flush.

Your breath caught, heat flooding your face. You tried to laugh it off, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to think straight. "I—uh, thanks."

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle now, but neither of you moved to leave the car. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating, yet you didn’t want it to end. The closeness, the warmth—it was too intoxicating.

Finally, you cleared your throat, trying to break the spell. "I guess… I should go."

Alhaitham nodded, but before you could open the door, his voice stopped you. "Goodnight," he said, his tone softer than you had ever heard it. "And… be careful."

That did it. You felt your face heat up instantly, the blush spreading like wildfire across your cheeks. You couldn’t even look at him, your fingers clutching the coat tighter as you fumbled for the door handle but you sucked in a breath and turned to look at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Goodnight… Alhaitham," you whispered, using his name for the first time.

The way his eyes flickered at the sound of his name on your lips made your stomach flip, but you quickly slipped out of the car before you could lose your nerve and correct yourself. You hurried towards your apartment, the drizzle cooling your flushed cheeks, but your thoughts were spinning.

 As you walked toward your apartment, your heart pounded in your chest, every step making you more flustered. You could feel his eyes on you still, even with your back turned. When you finally reached the stairs, you hesitated, glancing back. His car was still there, the engine quietly humming, headlights cutting through the rain.

He was waiting.

You quickly turned back around, your blush intensifying as you hurried up the stairs, fumbling with your keys. Once inside, you shut the door and leaned against it, breathless and heart racing.

He waited.

The thought made your head spin. Alhaitham—the cold, composed, seemingly distant professor—had waited to make sure you got inside safely. Your mind was racing, overwhelmed by the sudden realization that had been building for days, weeks even.

You had a massive crush on him.

Without even thinking, you peeped through the curtains, just in time to see him drive off into the night, his sleek car disappearing into the rain. You slid down to the floor, your face burning as you pressed your hands against your cheeks, trying to calm the dizzying flurry of emotions swirling inside you.

He’s so… You bit your lip, a small, giddy smile breaking through despite yourself. He’s such a gentleman.

Sitting there in the quiet of your apartment, wrapped in his coat, you couldn’t stop thinking about him—how impossibly perfect he seemed. You had no idea what this all meant, but one thing was certain: you were in deep.

Two days had passed since Alhaitham had dropped you off after that nerve-wracking yet thrilling encounter. Your heart still fluttered at the thought of him—both your professor and the enigmatic man who had captivated your attention in ways you never anticipated.

As you wrapped up your work in the office, the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow through the windows. You sorted through your notes, the soft rustle of paper providing a comforting background noise. Just as you were about to leave, you caught sight of Alhaitham leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a relaxed smile on his face that sent a flutter through your stomach.

“[your name]” he called, his voice smooth and inviting, laced with an undertone of warmth. “Are you ready to head home? I can drop you off”

You glanced up, feeling your cheeks heat slightly. “No need, sir. I can manage on my own.”

His expression shifted, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint frown. “I’ve kept you late too often lately. It’s only fair that I take you home.”

A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each one clouding your judgment. He’s your professor, you reminded yourself, a few years older than you and incredibly accomplished. Why would he want to spend time with someone like you? Surely he could find someone more suitable—someone his age, someone more… refined. But his persistence won out, and you found yourself nodding.

As you both stepped outside, the evening air was refreshingly cool. The slight breeze played with your hair as you walked side by side to his car, your hearts beating faster with the thrill of being alone together. The tension hung thick in the air, each shared glance igniting sparks between you.

“You’ve been a great help lately,” he began once the both of you entered the car, his tone light yet earnest. “I thought it would be nice to treat you to dinner. There’s a little place nearby that I think you’d enjoy.”

Your heart skipped at the thought. “You didn’t have to do that, Professor.”

He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I wanted to.”

The two of you arrived at the quaint little restaurant, a cozy atmosphere that felt intimate despite its bustling clientele. Alhaitham held the door open for you, and you slipped inside, feeling like a whirlwind of emotions. The soft chatter around you was comforting, but your focus remained on him.

Seated across from each other, you took a moment to appreciate how he looked in the warm light—his hair perfectly tousled, his sharp jawline accentuated by the soft glow. He was undeniably handsome, and it made you feel small in the best way possible. As he ordered a drink, you noticed the way his hands moved—confident, graceful, and somehow incredibly alluring.

When the server brought out your meals, Alhaitham’s knee brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. You tried to play it cool, but you could feel the heat radiating from where your legs met. “Here,” he said, nudging a plate toward you. “You have to try this. It’s my favorite.”

You took a bite, and your eyes widened in surprise. “This is amazing!” you exclaimed, not realizing how close you were leaning over the table.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “What about this? Have you tried it before?” He gestured to the dish in front of him, inviting you to share in the moment.

You both ended up sharing food, your hands brushing together as you reached for the same dish, an electric charge buzzing in the air between you. Every fleeting touch felt like a promise, igniting your heart and muddling your thoughts. As you took a sip of his beer, you grimaced at the bitter taste, wrinkling your nose in displeasure.

“This is horrible!” you laughed, unable to contain your reaction. “How do people drink this stuff?”

Alhaitham chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent butterflies flitting through your stomach. “Not everyone has your refined palate, apparently.” He raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from the same glass, unbothered by the lipstick stains you left behind.

Your heart raced at the implication, and for a moment, the world around you faded. Was this an indirect kiss? You felt dizzy, the beer mixing with the heat of the moment, leaving you in a haze. The air crackled with tension, and you found yourself leaning closer, your pinkies almost touching on the table.

As the evening progressed, you became more aware of the way you bumped shoulders while walking out of the restaurant, how his hand would occasionally brush against yours. You couldn’t help but think about how Alhaitham would make the perfect boyfriend. A man who was intelligent, considerate, and undeniably charming.

But you shook those thoughts away, reminding yourself of the reality: he was your professor, an accomplished linguist, and you were just a cam girl with secrets. Still, the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room—made your heart flutter, and you found it harder to resist the allure of what could be. 

The drive to your apartment was a light hearted one as you reached your apartment building, Alhaitham paused, turning to face you. “Thank you for your help today, [Your name]. I appreciate it,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

“Thank you, Professor Alhaitham,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you.

“Alhaitham is just fine,” he corrected softly, his gaze lingering on you.

With a nervous smile, you nodded, feeling like you were crossing some invisible line. “Alright, Alhaitham.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than necessary.

“Goodnight,” you echoed, stepping back as you watched him turn to leave.

But as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, your heart raced, and your thoughts swirled with excitement and confusion. You peeked through the curtains and saw him still parked there, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of his caring presence as you watched the car start to leave and fade away into the distance.

With a heavy sigh, you sank to the floor, your back against the wall, your mind racing as you realized you had developed a big fat crush on your handsome linguistic professor.

That dinner had been a whirlwind of emotions, and just when you thought the evening would settle, reality hit you like a wave.

You glanced around your apartment, noticing the bills piled on your desk and the ever-present worry about your finances creeping back in. You sighed, frustration bubbling inside you. Money was running low, and you knew what that meant. You had to do a cam session tonight.

Reluctantly, you shuffled to your room and changed into your outfit. You picked out a set of teal lingerie, the fabric soft against your skin, accentuating your curves in a way that made you feel both confident and exposed. As you slipped into the delicate pieces, you caught your reflection in the mirror. The bold colour brought out the warmth in your skin, and for a moment, you felt beautiful.

You quickly set up your camera and adjusted the lighting, trying to create the perfect ambiance. The familiar rush of excitement and nerves tingled in your stomach as you prepared to go live. With one last deep breath, you clicked the button to start the stream, greeting your audience with a sultry smile.

Minutes passed, and you fell into your routine, losing yourself in the performance. You teased and interacted with your viewers, each comment igniting a spark within you. You knew the thrill of being seen, desired, and appreciated, even if it felt like a secret life hidden from everyone else.

Just as you started to really get into it, a notification popped up. You glanced at the screen, and your heart dropped. 

User1102 has joined the stream.

You felt a familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach but brushed it aside, focusing on your performance. 

You just wanted to do something simple tonight, quickly. You pushed the small fabric that covered your mound, your fingers immediately went below, rubbing slow circles along your clit as your other hand groped at your covered chest. You let your eyes flutter, the image of Alhaitham's half-lidded gaze falls on you, a soft moan leaving past your parted lips. Your mind remembering every detail of his fingers. Strong and thick. You inserted two fingers into your soaking cunt, imagining your professor's fingers sinking within you feeling your walls flutter against him. Your mind remembering the smell of him, the warmth he radiated, his fleeting touches and the way he stared at you. A sob mixed with a moan leaves past your lips, your back aching off the bed adding more to your pleasure. 

His beautiful face came into view, you wondered how his tongue will feel agaisnt your neck, his large hands roaming your body, corrupting your body. The sudden image of you sprawled on his office desk came to mind, your fingers moving even faster, your sleek dripping onto the sheets, clit twitch as you squeezed your left breast Alhaitham's big hand squeezing it instead.

Then, without thinking, you let slip the words you never thought you’d say. “Ah, Pr-professor!” Your heart dropped as you realized what you had just said but your hand seemed to move faster, your toes curling in pleasure.

On the other side of the screen, Alhaitham’s eyes widened, shock and disbelief washing over him. He said he wasn't going to join your sessions again but tonight he was so allured by you, he missed you and wanted to see you again and just by luck you were live, but now hearing you call out his title made him groan, a mix of arousal and confusion coursing through him, his hand gripping tightly onto his cock as he starts to move his hand up and down fast, imagining that your tight hole was his hand instead. 

The sight of you in that teal lingerie, completely lost in your own world, only fueled his desires. He had thought about you too many times since that dinner, and now, knowing you were unknowingly calling out to him while you were so vulnerable, his mind raced with conflicting emotions.

Your voice continued, unaware of the effect you were having on him. “I-I can’t help it… I need more.” You cried out, your thighs trembling from pleasure. 

Alhaitham clenched his jaw, the tension building within him. The line between your two worlds had just blurred, and he found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions he never anticipated. Did you really see him as a professor, or was there something more there?

You finally looked up at the camera, your eyes making contact with his teal ones as if you knew he was watching you a shaky sob escapes past your lips.

"Alha-AHH" the words that wanted to leave your mouth got cut short as your screamed from the suddenly immense of pleasure your brought yourself, you squirted. The clear fluid drenching your sheets and thighs as your fingers still moved in you to ride off your high.

Alhaitham's eyes widen at the words that wanted to leave his mouth. Was you about to say his name ? This caused his red tip to explode with cum, his release coming down in thick blobs as it ran down his hand that still moved up and down his overstimulated dick, his eyes blurry, body sweating from the intensity of his orgasm, a lazy smile itched on his face. His hand slowly coming to a still, his eyes darken as he watches you pull your fingers out and lick them. Your breathing erratic as your mind was jumbled as you thought that you had came just at the mere thought of your professor—your feelings for him swirling panic coursing through your veins as you registered the thin line that now separated your real life from your hidden desires for him. 

 Alhaitham tapped in 1000$ and sent it to you, closing the stream with a final click. His eyes remained shadowed, and his heart pounded erratically.

Oh he can't wait to see you tomorrow. 

Part 3

[lilacqiqis]

A/N:Uwaaa first actual post on this blog!! I'm excited and hopefully you guys (3 people) will like it <3-Mod Lilac

Hair playing (ft. Naruto, Kakashi, Hinata, Itachi, Sasuke. GN!reader)

tw: none

More under the cut

🌙 It's no shock that Naruto loves being affectionate in every way possible, having his hair played with is one of his favorite activities!

🌙 Pat your lap and he'll get the signal instantly, rushing up to you and putting his chin on your thighs with that iconic smirk.

🌙 Give his scalp a few scratches, it's comforting to him. His hair is oddly soft despite him seeming like he has a shitty hair routine... Wonder what his hair care routine is? "Heheh, I don't really have a routine... I just dip my hair in the hot springs and call it a day!" Maybe the hot springs has some kind of magic imbued in it?

🌙 Sometimes, Naruto will play around with your hair. He's a goof, and ends up messing up your hairstyle or tugging too hard... He'll apologize with a crooked smile, so don't get too mad at him <3

🌻 Kakashi doesn't mind it when you play with his hair. It's nice, actually. Reading his book while you run your fingers through his gray locks... It's a peaceful moment he'll cherish.

🌻 He'd also like if he was pressed between your thighs while you played with his hair, so do the man a favor and indulge him a little. It's nothing inherently sexual... Kakashi just likes your thighs.

🌻 He loves falling asleep on your lap while you mess with his hair. Perhaps you can take his vulnerable sleeping state to pull down his mask... Nope. He'll catch your wrist and stop you before you get the chance to. Perhaps he has a special sixth sense for that...

🌻 Sometimes, Kakashi will tie your hair for you (if it is long enough to tie). It's a small act of affection, but it's sweet regardless. He isn't exactly one to play with your hair often, but sometimes he'll grab a strand while you're talking and twirl it between his fingers.

🦋 Hinata is such a sweet girl, letting you do what you want as long as it makes you happy. And if playing with her hair makes you happy, then she's more than willing to sit down and let you run your fingers through her hair.

🦋 She doesn't mind at all if you randomly play with her hair, she's glad you like her hair so much! Who wouldn't though? Her hair is silky and long, absolutely gorgeous. She takes extremely good care of it and her hair has a soft scent of lavender.

🦋 If you ever asked, she'd help you do your hair. Hinata enjoys brushing your hair, but if you prefer it messy she's fine with that too.

🦋 Tie her hair and do different hair dos! She'll love it, a pink hue on her cheeks as you braid or curl her hair. Even if you suck at it, Hinata will try to compliment you regardless on your skills.

🌹 You want to play with Itachi's hair? Go right ahead, darling. If it makes you happy... Itachi is happy too. He'll untie his hair and crouch down to lay his head on your lap, letting you do as you wish.

🌹 The look he gives you while you run your fingers through his strands is so... Soft. He enjoys your touch, being as touch starved as he is. He'll run circles on your thigh with his hand, giving you the sweetest smile.

🌹 Let him pamper you as well, he loves taking care of you and making you feel good. Itachi will return the favor with soft kisses as he motions for you to lay in his lap.

🌹 King of scalp massages, the way he runs his hands through your hair is comforting, he doesn't care if your hair is crunchy either the man persists. Please don't tell him no, he's just so eager to make you comfortable and happy, it makes him twice as joyful. But if you really don't like it he'll stop, not wanting to go against your wishes.

🌱 "What? No, don't touch my hair."

🌱 Proceeds to get mad when you say it's okay. Sasuke really expects you to pressure him so he can pretend he hates it 😭. If you do pressure him however he'll grumble and say "Fine. I'm only letting you do this because you'll just keep pestering me."

🌱 Acts uninterested as you play around with his hair, but he is ecstatic on the inside. He won't admit that ever, not even to himself, but this makes him feel extremely comfortable.

🌱 I don't see Sasuke as the type of person to play with your hair, and he's probably refuse if you asked him to. What a spoiled boy... Don't worry, he'll get more soft as time goes on.

[nezuscribe]

(nsfw, 18+)

toji stared at you, green eyes set it a deep glare as he gnawed on his lip. he was used to knowing things, he actually kind of prided himself in the fact that he was always three steps ahead of usually anybody. 

but today, he wasn’t. today he had somehow stumbled, and staring at the back of your head, was trying to figure out what went wrong. 

you had only spared him a glance when he walked in, unlike your usual bouncy self, greeting him with a kiss as your arms snaked around his shoulder, lips tugging upward into a radiant smile as he felt the stress of the day melt off his body. 

today, none of that happened. 

he walked in, staring at the way you were bundled up in a blanket, watching your favorite show as you pretend he didn’t exist (he knew he took up a lot of space, so he knew that you were bluffing on that part). you didn’t say anything, radio silent as the show hummed along in the background. 

“hey sweetheart,” he called out, waiting for you to turn around, “how’s you’re day been goin’?”

he set his bag down, running a hand through his tousled hair as he looked over the city, (he liked it this way, it normally calmed him down), but without your boisterous voice filling the space of the penthouse he quickly realized just how dull it was. 

“hungry?” he asked as he began to shed off his coat by the door, setting his briefcase down gently as though not the make a sound. 

obviously it didn’t do much because you didn’t answer him, still watching your show. 

“was thinkin’ about ordering some takeout,” he grumbled, now just saying anything to get a response from you, “how does that sound?” 

still, nothing.

he sighed, glancing at you and then to the hall, moving alongside furniture, the room almost becoming a maze as though to stop hm from reaching you, not letting his mind run until he was able to get a full understanding of the situation. 

he maneuvered around the large couch, your eyes never faltering to acknowledge his presence as he moved in closer to you, towering above you as he placed a hand on the cushion behind your head, the other on his hip as he cocked a brow. 

“did i miss something?” 

you swallowed, not trying to give any emotion away as you sat still, almost like a statue, a part of you hoping he’d move on after a couple seconds of trying. 

but he didn’t, he was persistent like that. 

he sank down to his knees, a sight a part of you would always swoon at despite your obvious annoyance towards him, and jutted your chin out, lips slightly pouting despite his large hands running up and down your legs, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he tried to figure you out. 

“is this about what happened with that assistant?” 

with the way your breathing hitched ever so slightly, he assumed he guessed right. 

“sweetheart,” he started, his hands moving up to your knees but you roughly moved your legs away, curling them up into the sofa as you still refused to look at him, “you know she’s trying to make you feel like this. fired her right after you left baby. ” his voice had dropped lower, seriousness flooding his tone so that you know he’s not joking around anymore.

a part of you gleamed at his words, happy to have the bitch gone. and you know he’s right, know that the pesky assistant that kept calling him her work-husband was only trying to get a reaction out of you. but now she did and you were petty and couldn’t find it in you to care.

“c’mon sweetheart, no need to be jealous,” he pushed, his hands finding their way back on your legs as his green eye glimmered with a sort of mischievous light, “know you’re the only one for me.” 

his fingers danced on your thighs, squeezing the flesh as he was determined to get something out of you. he decided that he didn’t seem to mind all that much if it weren’t words. 

his slender fingers tugged at the hem of your sleep short, and a part of you wanted to squeeze your legs together and leave, but you couldn’t, just pushing your head deeper into the cushion behind you as you pretended his movements weren’t sending heat straight to your core. 

you didn’t even fight him as he pulled the shorts all the way down, his breathing hitching in his throat when he realized you weren’t even wearing pantie, greeted with the sight of you bare pussy as he grinned slyly. 

“did you want me to resort to this, hm?” he asked, nudging your legs to open with his head, grinning when you huffed, your tits rising in your tank top as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“fuck sweetheart,” he nudged a finger closer to your cunt, groaning at just how wet you were, “this turning you on?” 

yes, it was, you wanted to say and admit it, but not yet. not now. 

his pushed his finger in deeper, reaching that part in you that you never could, hooking it in the way you liked as his thumb found your clit, applying pressure as he swirled it around in an eight pattern, watching with his devil as your head turned to the other side, lips pressed in a thin line as your eyes welded shut. 

“my pretty girl should know by now that only i fuck her like this, right? that i can’t have anybody after i’ve had her?” and it wasn’t a question because you already knew the answer, but he relented, shoving in another angry finger as they easily slid in and out of you. 

your pretty lips fell open as you whined, your nails gripping his hair as you pulled him closer to your cunt, and though he was a bit annoyed at the fact that you still hadn’t made a sound, he knew just what to do. 

he moved his fingers away from your pussy, a smirk growing on his ace when he heard you whine, but instantly replaced them with his mouth, beginning to eat you out as if you were a meal he’s been craving forever. 

he ate you like a man starved, his tongue licking and sucking at your clit, pumping in and out of you in way his fingers never could. he knew your cunt better than you did, and if he wanted you to come in under three minutes he was going to have his way.

the sounds that bounced off the high walls were so sinful that you felt heat crawl up your neck and to your checks, sweat dotting your forehead as you grasped onto his hair as if your life depended on it.

“mmmm, ‘s too much, toji!” you moaned, your pretty lips falling into an o shape as toji looked up from your pussy, the scar on his lip rising as he smiled.

“my baby found her words?” and before you could nod he went back in, sucking at you clot as you moaned out pathetically again.

on any other day you might have tried to at least hold out for a little bit, but you’ve been missing him since this afternoon, horny and needy for him, that you couldn’t stop your toes from curling, your stomach from clenching as you felt your release creeping up on you. 

“come on baby, i know you’re close, let go for me.” he ordered, gripping your thigh so hard you knew he was gonna leave bruises in his wake.

“toji, toji, fuck, i’m...!” you whined out loud, throwing your head back as your muscles clenched down, your pussy spasming around nothing as he pulled away, feeling your essence coating his tongue and his chin as you came, your hands grasping his hair, his shoulders, the cushions, anything you could find. 

your chest heaved as you struggled to calm down, peeking at him from the corner of you eye in an embarrassed way as he only chuckled, slapping your thigh gently as he stood up.

“hi baby,” he greeted, grasping your chin between his two fingers.

“hi toji,” you muttered weakly and he smiled, missing your voice so much that he never realized how much he needed to hear it. 

“feel like talking now?” he asked and you meekly nodded, letting him slip a finger into your mouth as you sucked around it, not feeling that pettiness you were feeling only minutes ago. 

“good, ‘cause i need to hear you scream tonight.” 

you could be bratty when you wanted to be, but toji knew just the counter measures against it.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

If You'll Have Me

A/N: Finally, this is here. Got this request back in March I think so anon, here ya go, sorry it took so long. Pairing: Megumi x Fem! Reader *(Both are 21 here) Warnings: Angst, breakup, pregnancy

It rained the day Megumi broke up with you. He sat there on your sofa, looking detached and apologetic, and you felt like your heart might choke you to death, the way it pounded frantically in your chest.

“I gave you everything!” You whispered furiously. “I supported you! Waited long hours for you to get home, without knowing what may have happened to you! I looked after Tsumiki when she became bedridden!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Megumi’s eyes are like dark tunnels, with not a trace of warmth or emotion in them. “With everything that’s happened…I don’t feel like I’m worthy of you.”

“Oh, how noble of you!” You spat, feeling utterly humiliated. “I suppose you’ll say it’s not me, it's you?” 

“It is me. I see the fear in your eyes whenever I leave you for a mission. I hear the pain in your voice when I tell you I’m coming home late. I hate being the person that makes you feel that way. You’re such a good person. That’s why I think you’d be better off without me.”

“Get out.” You managed to squeeze the words past your tightening throat, your eyes stinging painfully, tears spilling from them. Wordlessly, Megumi gets up and walks towards the door.

Perhaps you’d been daring him to go because your heart stopped for a second as he got to the door. Part of you wished he’d stop, look at you, and gather you close, saying he couldn’t live without you. You’re begging him with your being to not throw this away. 

He’s supposed to stop, isn’t he? He’s supposed to realize he’s being irrational, that there’s no one better than him for you? You were a pair, meant to be. His look haunts you as he turns the doorknob.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly, before disappearing into the rain. 

You stood there, watching the downpour, feeling your heart crack and splinter, like a delicate teacup that had fallen from a shelf, no safe hands ready to catch it and prevent it from falling to its doom. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

A month later, you feel exhausted, more than usual. Getting out of bed feels like a chore. Your back and feet hurt, and nothing stays in your stomach. You try everything. Soup, saltine crackers, toast, applesauce. Whatever you ate made you nauseated and dizzy. 

You started worrying you had caught a really persistent form of the flu, but when your period didn’t start, you felt a wave of dread. 

Now, as you stared at the positive pregnancy test in your hands, you felt like someone had torn your body open, invisible wounds reopening and stinging afresh, chaotically spilling your feelings everywhere. 

“You need to tell him.” Gojo leans back in his chair, assessing you critically. You look at him coldly, cursing his six-eyes technique.

“I do not. And it’s none of your fucking business.”

“It is. Believe me when I say Megumi will not shirk his duties as a father. It would devastate him if he ever gets to know he has a child and that he was absent from its life.”

“How can you possibly assume that?” You cross your arms over your still flat belly and glare at him. Like it wasn’t bad enough that you were Megumi’s ex, now you were knocked up with his baby. “He wanted nothing to do with me. That man was barely able to keep promises to me as his girlfriend. What makes you think he’s going to step up and be a father to a child he probably doesn't want?”

“Because he knows what it’s like to be that child,” Gojo says the words quietly but with a firm edge that had you staring at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Has Megumi ever told you about his dad?” Your silence says it all and Gojo narrows his eyes. “He’ll probably want my head if he ever finds out I told you this but I think it’s necessary.” Gojo sighs deeply and continues.

“Megumi’s dad loved him. But he simply wasn’t fit to be a parent. He abandoned Megumi and Tsumiki. Megumi was 7 years old at the time.”

You blink back tears as Gojo continues. “Megumi grew up as my ward. I don’t pretend to be his dad, but I can’t just let this slide. I understand you probably harbor resentment towards him, but cutting him out of this decision isn’t the right way to go about it.”

“I don’t want him to feel like he has any obligations towards me because of the baby. That’s the only reason he’d try to get in touch with me now, right?” You can’t forgive him for deciding to walk out of your life just yet, no matter what his childhood was like. 

“How long do you think you can keep this a secret? Megumi might not be around that much anymore, but you’ll start to show soon enough. If not me, someone else will tell him.”

Your expression hardens and you stand up with steely resolution coursing in your veins. “Thank you for your opinion. But the last I checked, though it takes two to make a baby, it only takes one to raise it.”

You pack your belongings and urgently move out of Tokyo by the end of the week.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Surprisingly, no one comes to bother you. You start over and manage to find work at a small accounting firm as a secretary. Your boss is sympathetic to your situation and doesn’t give you a hard time about needing maternity leave. Everything is going well despite the constant worry about running into someone from the jujutsu world but so far, nothing has happened. Your tummy swells and grows, the baby healthy and full of life. It brings you joy, knowing you carry this little being inside you.

One night, you wake up with a strange feeling inside your abdomen. Worried that the stress was getting to you as you entered your eighth month of pregnancy, you restlessly forced yourself out of bed and tried walking around the small apartment to ease your nerves.

It was a curious sensation, like something unseen was flowing through your veins, not sinister but a little unsettling. You place a hand on your swollen middle in hopes of soothing the baby then freeze when you feel the flow of cursed energy in your womb. 

You’d heard it wasn’t uncommon for sorcerer babies to begin regulating and channeling their cursed energy in utero, but it filled you with awe at how familiar the energy signature was to Megumi’s, vitality coursing under your fingertips as you felt it kick and turn. 

A soft rustling has you turning in panic, a gasp escaping your lips as you see 2 dog-like figures padding over to you from nowhere, their eyes glowing in the dark. Up close, you recognize them as Megumi’s divine dogs, their tails wagging as they approach you.

Motherly instinct has you clutching your stomach and angling away from them. Had Megumi finally figured out the truth? But the dogs’ demeanor didn’t seem to match that scenario. If anything, they looked curious and friendly. One of them finally gets close enough to nose your belly with its snout, before nuzzling the bump affectionately, which the other one mirrors. You watch in silent fascination, then feel a surge of energy from your womb. 

The baby was responding to the dogs. 

They recognized it as their owner. The dogs weren’t here because of Megumi. The baby had subconsciously summoned them. With a shaky hand, you pet both of them, seeing their eyes close happily. They bring back memories of Megumi and your eyes fill with tears.

“Does he want to be a father?” You ask them. They look at you with intense yellow eyes and before you can say anything else, vanish in a blink. 

.・。.・゜✭・.

The day the baby arrives is one of the happiest and emotionally draining days of your life. You lay on the labor bed, gripping the sheets as the contractions relentlessly come and go, each more painful than the last. 

You almost scream, not from the pain but in shock, as something noses your hand. Turning, you see the divine dogs at the side of the bed, unseen to the normal humans. You could’ve wept with relief, knowing you weren’t quite alone. You pet them and grip their fur as you finally deliver your baby boy into the world. 

The small pink bundle was a miniature of Megumi, the beautiful black hair plastered to its little head, screaming with the rage of life. With shaky hands you accept him, your heart so full of love you feel like it could burst. You’re so occupied that you don’t notice the divine dogs quietly padding outside, tails wagging, as someone lingers near the door.

Megumi has tears in his eyes as he hides just outside the room. He sees his child, and you, the person he loves and cherishes. You’re cooing at the baby, getting him settled down to suckle, his little hand wrapped around your finger so tightly.

Megumi balls his hands into fists feeling his fingernails dig into his palm, emotions raging through him. He’s so glad the two of you are healthy, and there’s regret for his mistakes of the past. He understands why you left Tokyo. You were a proud woman, independent, determined to not need him after he’d broken up with you. It wasn’t like you to grovel or beg. He was sure if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs by accident, he would’ve never found you. 

Yet he felt like an intruder, an outsider, unworthy of entering the room. He understands what he broke the day he left and it eats away at his soul knowing that he was the reason you didn’t come to him after finding out you were pregnant. It had taken so long for you to let your walls down, to learn to depend on him finally, and in an instant, he had taken that away from you, the one thing you had avoided for so long; the need to rely on others.

It was that which drove you, the shattered dependability, and he remembered how long it had taken to reassure you to be less guarded on that front. He was awful, no better than his own father. But he had to try. He knocks on the door.

You turn, breath catching when you see him in the doorway.

“Hi.” He tries to not let his tears show, but when your eyes fill, he can’t contain himself. He closes the gap and embraces both of you as you sob uncontrollably into his shoulder.  

.・。.・゜✭・.

Megumi sleeps on the sofa, taking care of his child with such tenderness and love. He relearns everything about you, appreciating all that you are. It takes time but the relationship rebuilds steadily.

“How did Gojo not rat me out?” you ask one evening as Megumi cooks dinner while you cuddle the baby on the sofa. 

Megumi pauses, and looks over uncertainly. “He did.”

“He did?” 

“Yeah.” Megumi’s voice is low. “He told me and said I’d regret it if I didn’t try to find you. I was a coward.” He turns the stove burner off and faces you. “I never stopped thinking about you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me. I still believe I’m not your equal, and I never will be. You were my home base. The single person holding my life together. How much more could I ask you to do?”

He joins you on the sofa, taking his son into his arms, rocking him softly as he starts to doze off. “I was so scared to ask you to forgive me. I felt like a hypocrite, reassuring you all these years that it’s ok to depend on me, and then taking that security away from you. I was the worst kind of asshole. But I knew I couldn’t be a deadbeat father. I looked for you. But you did such a good job covering up your tracks. Honestly, if the baby hadn’t summoned the divine dogs, I probably would have never caught on.”

The baby yawns and drifts off to sleep in his arms. Megumi stares at the little face, unable to forgive himself for what he almost missed out on.

“I want us to be all right. I want us to be a family. Can we?” He looks at you with doubt, knowing if you said no, it was well within your right.

You take the baby from his arms, carefully settling him down in the portable bassinet next to the sofa, and take Megumi’s face in between your hands.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice choking up. 

Megumi pulls you against him tightly. “I love you so much. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure to live up to being your equal.”

You nod, letting your tears flow freely.

“I love you too.”

all dividers and banners by @/ cafekitsune

@estarlias @daswanj @actuallysaiyan @whatshernameis

@byul9158 @mirrors-musings @Mangiswig

@that-goth-bisexual @connorsui @jadedjane @darkstarlight82

@soft--cherry @galactict3a @hunnie-lily

[savanir]

continuation of this thank you again @mynameisjag for the inspiration, this prompt currently has me by the throat

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

The evening is dreary, rain pouring from the skies like tears. Typical Gotham fare to be honest.

This evening was the stage of the latest gala in the crime filled city, another fundraiser for something, or at least pretending to be. 

Vlad brought his dear Madeline as well as Jasmine with him, he was planning to do some light networking but this was also his latest attempt to cheer his sweetheart up. The new experience might distract her a bit.

She had not taken the news well… when the search party found Daniel’s clone corpse in the woods.

It’s been months since the funeral, but her spark for life still has not yet reignited.

And in those past few months Jasmine has seemingly taken over Daniel’s job and has become a most persistent thorn in Vlad’s side, absolutely refusing to let him make any sort of progress with Maddie.

But this evening wasn’t about any of that. There would be no bickering between Vlad and Jazz about him aiding her in finding her lost brother. Not like she even needed his help, she and Daniel’s old friends were probably doing the best job possible in finding the boy.

And it’s not like he could tell her he knew her brother was probably being kept by one of the world's greatest mercenaries. 

Revealing that would open a whole new can of worms he didn’t want to explain.

Maddie was mostly distracted at the gala, staring morosely at Wayne and his brood.

The sight fills Vlad with an insidious sort of anger, the kind that lays heavy and molten on the bottom of your stomach. She better not get it in her head to try and replace one bumbling oaf for the next.

Also… getting rid of a Wayne is apparently a weirdly difficult thing to do… Vlad would rather not bother.

And even though he feels bitter, it is rather nice to see Madeline cheer up when she gets to introduce herself to the boys. Vlad again thinks about his plan of conceiving a new son of their own, not to replace Daniel of course, the boy is irreplaceable but… well, yeah to replace him.

After all, is it really worth it to find Daniel anymore at this point?

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

The gala is uneventful right up until Vlad leaves the main area for a breath of fresh air, hopefully find the designated smoking area and have a cigarette (it’s not like those things can kill him anymore anyway) but on the way there he saw a shadow darting around the corner and he just couldn’t help himself.

If there was any illegal activity afoot, he rather be on top of it himself, that way he’ll know what he can pull and get away with.

It wasn't until he entered a room and promptly got ambushed that he thought that maybe he had walked into a trap of sorts, oh well, nothing Plasmius wouldn’t be able to fix.

Gotham is a city of freaks but none of them are on his power level after all.

Still, precious decisive reaction time got wasted because he’s thinking of an approach that would not result in him having to permanently silence his assailant. Murder is probably rough to cover up in the city that’s home to the world’s greatest detective and bribing the corrupt police force is such a hassle… a scuffle of a mugging/abduction or whatever gone wrong is much easier to explain.

Instead Vlad finds himself tazed, tazed of all things. Perhaps an ecto infused blast into the nearby wall isn’t such a bad idea after all.

But then he finds he can’t access his powers anymore, and a mild sense of dread takes root in his chest.

That taser… it couldn’t have been….

He isn't given much time to think about it as he’s expertly incapacitated and worked against the ground.

Vlad thinks he hears the faintest mutterings, something along the lines of “we do rely too much on our powers” perhaps it’s some veiled insult directed at his current situation. Uncalled for in his opinion…

Of course he struggles, he fights back. His attacker is way smaller than him, lighter and quick with their moves, whomever this is they certainly know what they are doing and Vlad hates to admit it, but without Plasmius he’s actually outmatched.

That leaves plain ol’ shouting for help.

An idea that quickly got snuffed out when a big army knife that crackles with sickly neon green energy gets pressed against his throat and a detonator gets shown off in his assailant’s hand.

“Quiet now, or I’ll blow this place sky high”

“That seems counterproductive” Vlad can’t help but snarl.

“aww, worried about me? there is no need I’ll be just fine, them on the other hand…”

the attacker puts a tablet down that shows a video feed of the main gala area with all the people milling about.

None of them matter to Vlad, but his Madeline and her daughter are there as well, he easily spots them too.

“What do you want, money? I’m sure there are better targets for that out there”

All of a sudden there is a strangely familiar staticy growl in his attacker’s voice, “I want two things from you, I want you to suffer and then I want you to die”

this is personal then… not good.

His attacker takes a moment to more firmly incapacitate Vlad against the floor before redirecting his attention to the video feed on the tablet screen. In the main gala area a big screen of it’s own has come down from the ceiling, usually meant for big fancy presentations (but those had already been carried out for the evening) and was now showing Vlad’s latest illegal activity for all the people to see.

Inside the room people are worriedly looking to and fro, wondering what rogue attack this will lead to, others are already gleefully taking to social media and broadcasting the events happening to the rest of the world.

Personnel are scrambling about to figure out what’s going on, and a couple Wayne’s have now subtly left the area.

“There we go, all out in the open. No more secrets”

Vlad’s eyes darted over the screen in horror.

“I like this right here,” his attacker zooms in on Maddie’s face as she’s realizing in real time that Vlad paid someone to kill her husband, “that’s a good face”

People are looking around and starting to notice Vlad is not among them anymore.

“You cannot possibly expect to get away with this, the Gotham bats are most likely already aware and hunting you down”

“I know-” His attacker shushes, “don’t spoil my fun, at least let me enjoy this show. Even if you somehow manage to get away from me now your life is completely ruined” 

Vlad makes another attempt to escape, growling, “who are you and why are you doing this, how do you even know about half of these things-”

He gets his hands ran through and pinned down fully on the ground with the knives in return.

Vlad figures he must have made some noise but the painful pressure that his assailant keeps on his back is also making it harder to breathe.

“C’mon now, you always boasted about how you’re better and more experienced in every way. Surely you can use that big brain of yours and figure this mystery out, here I’ll help-” the attacker painfully twists his head to the side, “have a look”

It’s dark and the figure is still very much in the shadows but the first thing that catches Vlad’s eyes is the mask over his assailant’s mouth that’s black on the right and orange on the left, a rather obvious hint towards ties with a certain mercenary.

The dark hair styled in that one familiar way brings someone else to mind.

“Daniel”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to twist one of the knives in his hand.

“Don’t call me that”

“Danny-” Vlad doesn’t hesitate to correct even though it does come out rather strangled because of the pain, this is a bad situation and he’s not stupid, “whatever he said-”

there is a faint crackle and it’s only through Vlad’s still slightly enhanced senses that he hears the gruff voice talking to Daniel.

“Wrap it up Memento”

Danny glances at the live feed on the tablet. Proper security is starting to swarm around.

Maddie is holding Jazz close and appears to be talking to someone in charge. One of the Wayne brood has decided to stick with her, the eldest son. How kind of him.

Vlad is still trying to get Danny to listen to him.

Danny sighs, “I kind of wish I could drag this out longer, but this is fine” he twists his knee against Vlad’s neck and now properly restrains Vlad’s legs before pulling out something new.

“This is something my dad was working on before you got him killed, I was planning on sabotaging it and getting rid of the blueprints but... things change”

Danny puts it in the middle of Vlad’s upper back, “I’m sure you’re dying to know what it does. Well, it’s the Fenton Ghost Core Crusher. A bit of a mouthful admittedly. I’m still workshopping a better name, but at the very least the purpose is obvious”

“Daniel-” Vlad is starting to sound like a parent who is realizing that their kid is about to do something dangerous and stupid. It's honestly too bad that he’s not a parent and Danny is not his kid, otherwise it might have actually had it’s intended effect.

“I would have loved to see you deal with the full aftermath and consequences of your horrible choices in life but I don’t really feel like dealing with you as a full ghost so I guess this is it, goodbye forever, it really sucked to have known you”

Vlad has a second to fully regret Deathstroke taking Daniel and not taking it as seriously as he should have and then he’s too busy feeling what must be a supernova and a blackhole manifesting in his chest at the same time somehow.

After that he hears, or perhaps he just feels… a sickening crack and everything fades away.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

There is a corpse at Danny’s feet. It’s Vlad, fully dead, the not coming back kind.

Danny figured he’d feel different, there is some vindication, and the slight satisfaction of a death avenged, but other than that he just feels rather empty, and kind of tired.

Danny doesn’t realize he’s getting a little lost in his head until Slade’s voice cuts through his mental spiral and snaps him out of it.

“Memento, time to move” 

“right”

A part of Danny wants to stay, be found. As he goes invisible and floats right through the ceiling he takes some time to fantasize about it. Would it be a bat? or perhaps one of the security guards checking the rooms, maybe it would even be one of the attendees, they would probably scream once they noticed Vlad on the ground. A security guard would be smarter about the situation, but not by much.

A bat would probably attack him once they realized Vlad was already dead.

Later on they would put a little addendum in their rogue list at Deathstroke’s name, a little side file that’s just for Danny, affiliated with Slade Wilson, name; ???, gender; male, age; somewhere between 14 and 18, threat level; capable of killing people, something like that.

A few buildings away Danny catches up with Slade on the roof.

“Did you have fun? did you get it all out of your system?” Slade folds his arms over his chest.

Danny just growls at him.

“In that case it’s time to move on” The man is already turning away.

Well, Danny can agree on that, so he follows Deathstroke away from the mess he caused at the gala and away from his mother and sister.

And here is my idea for a Deathstroke affiliated Danny

[moonpascaltoo]

JAMES POTTER

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all james potter stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) <3

MASTERLIST • THE MARAUDERS • 09/01/24

JAMES POTTER ONE

@astonishment ✰ in another life part 2 In another life, you and Pietro would have happily spent the rest of your years together. In this life, he died right in front of you. Adjusting to your new world and mourning his loss wouldn't be so hard if it weren't for James Potter; the funny, charming, caring, annoyingly persistent man that looks just like the love you lost.

@amiableness ✰ love letters Y/n starts receiving love letters, and James doesn't handle it well, leading to him writing his own. ✰ dad!james universe

@mischievousmoony ✰ speak up reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. ✰ haywire holiday you have trouble sleeping when you unexpectedly have to share a bed with james on your holiday ✰ building blocks

@pretty-little-mind33 ✰ new romantics When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you. ✰ afterglow James is threatened by how good you are at Quidditch which means he hates you. And what emotion is closer to hate than love? ✰ timeless part 2 James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different. ✰ enchanted Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London.

@saturnitystar ✰ beautiful

@ellecdc ✰ request

@ddejavvu ✰ bsf!james ✰ good luck charm James is convinced that you’re his good luck charm, so before every quidditch game, you find yourself at his mercy in the locker rooms.

@alwaysmoncheri ✰ my girl no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it

@moonstruckme ✰ roommate!james series ✰ roommate!james

@curseofaphrodite ✰ short scenario where you, the Hogwarts Newsletter editor, wrote a less-than-praising piece about Gryffindors losing the recent match.

@g1rld1ary ✰ lifeguard!james

@moonlightspencie ✰ don’t want you like a best friend James is nervous about his inexperience with girls. Luckily he has a best friend who's more than willing to help.

@morwap ✰ do it for me

@marauroon ✰ bonding you’re convinced james has separation anxiety. the boy can’t even let you shower in peace.

@rainydayathogwarts ✰ from now on James Potter gives head for the first time, and it quickly becomes an obsession.

@theemporium ✰ request

[3amfanfiction]

You wrote this about Simon: “At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.”

I’d LOVE to read more of this - i wanna be the one to offer him the soft touch he wants so badly, maaaan! He’s just so big n’ strong but i want to let him curl up against me while i pet him until he stops shivering

This came through at the perfect time. I had the desire to write but I was picking at all my wips half heartedly bc none of the them were what I wanted.

But this? This I wanted.

So thank you again and please enjoy 1.5k words of acclimatizing Simon to soft touches.

<33

Ask referencing this post.

~~~~

He scared you, the first time you saw him.

Not because of how big he was (tall, thick, muscular) or the look in his eyes (cold, dismissive, too watchful), not even because of the scars themselves (numerous, expansive, tragic).

It was because you knew any interaction would come across as a threat. He had that look in his eyes that said he'd seen the worst of what the world had to offer and he persisted through luck and spite equally. Now he was sat in front of you, too disciplined to let his skin shiver but hating being seen. Hating that you were looking.

When you met him it was through a friend of a friend sort of thing. One of your friends was seeing a Scottish boy and invited you out for drinks with them. You had no reason to say no so you found yourself sitting at a high-top doing your best not to bother the man sitting quietly to your right.

His gruff, Simon, during introductions was the only thing he had said in the last hour, content to sit quietly and watch. Almost outside of the group even though he was sitting at the same table. You made sure to include him when you were speaking to the group, your eyes darting to each person as you spoke, not leaving anyone out. But you made sure to never direct a hard question at him that required an answer. It was all, I bet you never have a problem seeing over the crowd. or I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm up or Sorry, I'll be out of your space in a moment, my jacket was getting a little warm.

He would look at you. Every time you spoke to him he wouldn't shy away from eye contact but that was where his involvement ended. Never a head nod or shake, never a verbal answer.

By the end of the night you were positive he didn't like you. He didn't dis-like you but he didn't like you, you were pretty sure. That was okay though. You'd done your best not to infringe on his space, not wanting to step on his toes. You thought you had done a good job all around and put it out of your mind, the interaction over and done with and no longer needing to be reviewed.

What you never realized was Simon's shoulders lowered a whole inch throughout the course of the night.

\\\

You called your friend out on the number of times she invited you to hang out with Johnny and Simon, flat out asking if she and Johnny were trying to set you and Simon up through subtle double-dating.

"No!" She leaned forward grabbing your hand, her eyes looking earnestly into yours, "I promise it's not like that. Johnny told me he's pretty much all Simon has. Well, their team is. So they're always together when they're home. I don't want Simon to feel like a third wheel or left out or anything."

And you believed her. This was one of her strong suits, always looking out for others. That's probably why you two got along so well, a pair of givers, the both of you. And she had a point. The idea of Simon sitting awkwardly with the other two as his only companions made something twist in your stomach. You didn't want that for him.

So you kept seeing Simon and you kept doing your best to give him space but include him at the same time. You were shocked the first day he spoke to you but the fact that it was a bad joke made a sort of perfect sense.

"What's the best way to carve wood?"

You looked over at him in shock that this was what he chose to break the ice with. At the same time you were delighted and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of Simon telling you a joke. A bad one by the sound of it.

"How?"

"Whittle by whittle."

"That was absolutely terrible."

He smiled to himself if his eye crinkles had anything to say about it. That giddy feeling bubbling up inside you was getting unsettlingly big right about now. You looked at the ground and bit your lip to keep from a cheesy grin of your own breaking out.

Before you knew it he had no problem speaking to you. While never particularly verbose, he would respond to comments directed towards him, offer his opinion if options were offered, and kept telling awful jokes.

You were hopelessly charmed.

You broke your own rules and reached for him first.

You were sat next to him on a bench, the sun setting and the evening air cooling further. He had told you another one of his god-awful jokes when you unthinkingly swatted out with your hand, brushing his arm. His muscles jumped and his arm tensed right before you made contact as if bracing for a hit. An involuntary reaction to someone reaching for him. It was a horrifying realization.

You sobered quickly and your chuckle died off awkwardly. You turned to face forward, looking out at the street, watching for any sign of your friend or Johnny who had stepped into the store for a quick moment leaving you and Simon to find a bench while you waited. You hoped that if you didn't draw attention to it then your faux pas would pass unmentioned.

You let out a relieved sigh when Simon continued with another comment, not taking your overstepping to heart. By the time the other two had rejoined you the whole situation was forgotten, water under the bridge. You didn't think of it again until it was the end of the night with everyone about to go their separate ways.

When you said goodbye to Simon he said it back, reaching out to brush his hand down your arm in return in almost the exact same spot as where you'd touched him earlier.

Your heart skipped a beat before picking up a double pace. You couldn't help but beam at him, a wide grin splitting your face even as he grunted and turned away, likely embarrassed by your show of emotion.

Today had been a good day after all.

You thought you had ruined it for a moment there, thankful when Simon seemed to brush past it. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate in the same manner though.

Maybe he really did like hanging out with you. You never doubted it for a second.

\\\

It took time–a slow steady build to where you ended up, curled up on the couch together with Simon laying on top of you. You both had your tops off to bask in a little skin-to-skin time.

You'd been together for a few months at this point and it was like night and day to compare him to the Simon you met all that time ago. This one couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. It was a slow warm-up to get past his walls in a way that wasn't upsetting to either of you. Soft touches that slowly built, leading to hand holding, to hugging, to kissing, to this.

You dragged your fingers slowly up his back, fingertips catching on raised scar tissue before continuing on, ever moving. He hummed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his face when you switched from fingertips to nails, gently scratching the skin.

You loved spending time like this, feeling Simon melt into you, eager for every touch he could get. If you were sitting still and Simon was in the vicinity you could bet that he would be pressed against your side before too much time had passed. Eager for the soft caresses you always had for him.

He was starved for touch and you wanted to feed him.

So you offered, again and again in the beginning–most times with no luck, to let him touch you. On the couch watching TV? Your arms would open, inviting a hug when he walked by. At the table? Your head was tilting up for a kiss if he wanted one. Passing each other in the hallway? You'd raise your hand and hold it in front of you, letting him press his big barrel chest into your palm if he wanted.

It was a slow acclimatization that brought you to today and the taste was all the sweeter for the time you had poured into it.

You lifted a hand to drag it through the spiky hairs at the back of his head, enjoying his groan of contentment. It sounded like he was already halfway asleep and you knew you wouldn't be leaving this spot for a while.

Might as well settle in and get comfortable. You familiarized him to gentle touches, now he was insatiable for them. He would be consuming them from you greedily for as long as you offered.