#so of course I INSTANTLY recognised this one

[p0orbaby]

Remember Cuddles in the Kitchen

summary: you go to your first game as the owner of The Arsenal

warnings: the teeniest start of some angst but that’s it

a/n: i wrote this in an hour, don’t judge, or do

word count: 1.3k

-

You arrive at the stadium in the kind of vehicle that hardly counts as a car anymore—a blacked-out Range Rover with plush leather seats, which are supposed to help with lumbar support or jet lag or something. It glides through the crowd outside the stadium as if it were water parting, leaving you in a surreal, weightless state as you stare out the tinted windows. People line up along the barriers, some of them with jerseys, scarves, others in crisply tailored suits, all of them fixated on the car as if it’s carrying royalty. In a way, you suppose, it is—at least, that’s what the club PR team likes to tell you.

The driver, whose name you can never remember despite his impeccable service, opens your door with precision timing, as if there were some imaginary stopwatch counting down the seconds it should take for you to step out. You have a fleeting memory of insisting to the board that you didn’t need this kind of attention, but that was waved away—of course you did, they’d insisted, it was all part of the club’s image. So here you are, stepping out into the sharp autumn air, the sound of fans and stadium chatter rising and folding around you.

People see you instantly, recognise you. A ripple of whispers, the odd “there she is!” or “our owner, that’s her!” float up from the throng. A camera flashes. It’s a bizarre mix of adoration and fascination, directed at someone who hasn’t even kicked a ball. They think they know you, these people, with their wide eyes and hopeful looks. They don’t, of course, but there’s no room for reality here, not in a world built on perception and spectacle.

You make your way through the stadium corridors, led by an assistant with a headset who murmurs into it like a stockbroker, keeping you insulated from the crush of ordinary fans. She’s brisk, polite, making small talk as you walk past murals of past players, glossy and smiling and set in that specific historical lighting that makes them look both heroic and outdated.

Eventually, you reach the suite. Inside, it’s the pinnacle of curated, near-stale luxury. Charcoal-grey walls, marble-topped counters, a buffet laden with food that looks more sculptural than edible—truffle-scented hors d’oeuvres and exotic fruits. You can’t remember the last time you ate at one of these spreads; it always feels wrong, somehow, to snack on pâté while everyone else is crammed into the stands, scarfing down chips and Bovril.

You glance at the screen on the far wall, where Leah’s name appears in the lineup. Your heart tugs, some deeply buried urge to be out there with her, watching from the stands, shouting with the fans instead of gliding through this marble-and-silver version of a stadium experience. You scan the field, your eyes finding her immediately. She’s focused, her whole body coiled with that easy confidence you’ve always envied, jogging alongside her teammates, every move smooth and efficient.

The fans in the lower section spot you from their seats, and a fresh wave of whispers and nods starts. A couple of people even clap when you’re shown on the stadium’s big screen for a brief second, a polite nod to their reclusive, mysterious owner. You smile, trying to ignore the flush of embarrassment, and settle back in your chair.

The match is a whirlwind, a blur of chants and shouts and, every now and then, Leah’s fierce concentration catching you off guard. She’s different out there, almost unrecognisable from the woman who drinks tea in your kitchen wearing mismatched socks. She’s something more primal, almost statuesque, moving with a determination that feels slightly otherworldly.

When it’s over, you wait in the suite, alone, watching as the champagne is removed, the food whisked away, and the staff disappear with their final, obligatory nods. The door opens, and Leah steps in, looking somewhat shy in her own space. Her hair is still damp from the post-game shower, and her cheeks are flushed from the effort, a hint of colour that feels more honest than the varnished elegance of the suite. She’s got that look—that bright-eyed, smug expression of someone who knows they played well but is too modest to admit it.

She stops, taking in the setup with a flicker of something you can’t quite place. A slight furrow of her brow, a narrowing of her eyes, as if she’s both impressed and vaguely amused by it all. She crosses her arms, eyeing you with a smirk.

“Bit much, don’t you think?” she says, her tone light but with an edge of something darker.

“Not my choice,” you reply, gesturing at the array of imported cheeses and miniature quiches. “Apparently, truffle-infused food is non-negotiable”

She snorts, but her arms stay crossed, her body language closed off. She looks around, her gaze lingering on the sterile decor, the impersonal luxury, and something in her expression tightens, like she’s uncomfortable here. “Feels like a mausoleum in here. Where’s the celebration? The noise?”

You shrug, glancing away, feeling an odd prick of defensiveness. “Apparently, being a good host involves keeping everything as quiet as possible”

She doesn’t smile, just watches you with that steady look. There’s a tension between you that wasn’t there before, something unspoken but heavy, and it catches you off guard.

“Is this what it’s like for you now?” she asks, her voice soft but pointed. “All this… pageantry?”

You hesitate, then nod. “This is what they want. The ‘owner’ experience”

She studies you for a moment, her gaze uncomfortably sharp. “And what do you want?”

The question sits between you, raw and unanswered. You don’t have a quick response, and that unsettles you. Because truthfully, you’re not sure. The distance between her world and yours, between the pitch and this hermetically-sealed suite, feels enormous, almost insurmountable.

Leah sighs, uncrossing her arms and taking a step closer. “I just… I don’t know. I thought it would be different. I thought… I’d come off the pitch, see you there, and it would feel like… like home, you know?”

There’s a pause, a heavy silence as her words settle over you. And it hits you, then—this isn’t just about the suite, the champagne, the hushed voices. It’s about the way this world has started to reshape you, molding you into something polished and distant, something that doesn’t quite fit with the person she fell in love with.

Without thinking, you reach for her hand, pulling her close. “Leah, I don’t care about any of this. I’d be out there in the stands with everyone else if I could”

She looks at you, her expression softening a little, but there’s still a hint of wariness, like she’s not entirely convinced. “Then why are you here?”

“Because that’s what they expect,” you say quietly, the words feeling oddly vulnerable. “It’s all theatre. None of it matters. The only thing that matters to me is… well, it’s you”

The tension in her shoulders eases, and she lets out a breath, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Sometimes it feels like I don’t even know this version of you. Like I’m just… watching from the outside”

Her honesty cuts through you, but there’s a strange relief in it too, as if naming the problem has made it more real, more manageable. “Then tell me what you need,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me how to make this work”

She looks at you, her expression softening, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “How about we start with a drink that doesn’t taste like money?”

You laugh, a genuine, unrestrained sound that feels like a release. “That, I can arrange”

You signal to the server, and within minutes, a couple of beers appear—actual beers, not the artisanal, locally-sourced nonsense. You crack open the bottles, handing one to Leah, and she raises it in a mock toast, her eyes glinting with amusement.

“To the queen of the royal box,” she teases, and you roll your eyes, clinking your bottle against hers.

“Long may she reign”

[dribs-and-drabbles]

The Thai Communal Wardrobe item #124

Bad Buddy ep 7:

Wandee Goodday ep 7:

[lavellane]

i have this personal kinda convoluted headcanon about the fade that i always think about whenever im reminded of the decade or so ashara's gonna spend seperated from solas between dai and dadw. bc at some point most people would more or less move on right?? like after whole entire decade removed from some short lived dalliance?? but i like to imagine that time moves/feels a lot slower in the deep fade. especially if you have mastery over it like solas does (+ ashara with his mark + her rift spec). so its like,, not only did they spend so many days together during the main game, but also their NIGHTS were spent in the fade together, stretched out significantly longer in dreams, exploring and talking and going on several 24episode seasons worth of mini adventures and filler episodes. and ofc nobody understands why shes still so wounded by him and ofc she cant explain it bc it hurts to talk about !! shes too proud to tell them that sbe'd trusted with him something so intimate, and because of that it felt like as if theyd spent SO much more time together !!!!! idk. helps me reconcile the fact that she really cant get over him even if she tries.

[evansbby]

you get a request from a mysterious viewer for a private chat…

❃▹or ❃▹

sugar daddy ari meets cute camgirl!reader and she doesn’t know how to act around him.

{18+, dd/lg overtones, daddy kink,minors dni}

A. Levinson has requested a private chat.

The message pops up on your screen the moment you’re about to shut your laptop and call it a night. It’s already past midnight and you’ve just ended a particularly wild livestream. Tonight, you’d done the whole innocent girl act that your subscribers loved so much. You’d asked them to suggest on the live chat all the different ways you could touch yourself. As expected, it had gone over a treat, and you’d done your highest numbers yet thanks to your loving fans.

Speaking of which, your laptop beeps again with another notification:

A. Levinson donated $500.

You recognise the name immediately. Of course, you have no clue what he looks like or who he is. But he’s a new regular on your livestreams. Thousands of people watch you but you recognise the names of those who donate frequently. A. Levinson is one of those people – and his donations are hefty, too. Oh, should you accept? You didn’t really do private chats…

The buzz of another notification snaps you out of your thoughts. Another five hundred dollars. And this time, there’s a message attached.

A. Levinson: I really enjoyed your show tonight. Could I possibly take up your time for just a little bit longer? You can name your price.

Well… he didn’t sound creepy. He was most likely an older gentleman, probably lonely with a bunch of wealth and nobody to spend it on – aka, your favourite type of customer. You hover over his name quickly – no profile picture, forty-two years old (practically double your age!), new profile. Yep, it all checked out. You’d been planning on calling it an early night tonight but perhaps you could stretch it out a little longer and give this lonely old soul a bit of an extra show… For the extra cash, of course.

You fix your hair and adjust the lingerie you’ve still got on. You hadn’t stripped nude on tonight’s livestream, and most of your viewers had been too enraptured watching you make yourself cum over and over again to really even notice. Plus, you always chose the best lingerie to wear for your cam-shows. Tonight, you had on a pretty lacy set in the softest, cutest shade of baby pink, with creamy white ribbons and detailing completing the look along with your signature pink pumps. This A. Levinson guy would be in for a treat and a half. You quickly accept his request for a private chat, easily slipping back into the character you play in your shows.

“Hello there,” you feign shyness and smile into the camera how you always do. “What’s your name?”

“Ari,” the stranger responds, his voice sounding like liquid chocolate pouring straight out of your laptop. Damn. He didn’t have his camera on but that was unsurprising – most of your fans were very shy. “I have to admit, I didn’t know if you’d accept my private chat request.”

“Well, how could I not?” You adjust the straps of your bra slowly, “I love my fans, you know.”

He chuckles, “And they sure do love you.” A pause. “You looked breathtaking tonight.”

You’re used to compliments from your fans. Comments ranging from: “you’re gorgeous” to fuck ur so hot xx” to “I wish my girlfriend looked like you” to “you made me cum so hard in my pants baby.” But the way this Ari guy says it… the way he says the word “breathtaking” – all soft, and slow and melodious and confident. Instantly, your heart thrums, leaving you feeling a tad embarrassed.

“Oh… why thank you! That’s super sweet of you to say.” You recover quickly, slipping back into your “innocent girl” character as you smile softly and avert your gaze and do that thing where you rub your arm and pretend to be all shy. It goes over great with all your other fans.

But this fan only chuckles, “You can call me Ari for now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?!?

You clear your throat, “Were you feeling lonely tonight, Ari?”

“You could say that. I try to tune in to your show whenever I have the time. You were beautiful tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sweet.” Oh, there was that liquid chocolate voice again – all velvety and smooth and deep! You vaguely wonder what he looks like…

“Thank you, Ari. What was your favourite part?”

And okay, so maybe you’re being a bit boring right now. Usually, on the rare occasion you did agree to a private chat, you’d be a lot more flirtatious. But this man’s voice was almost putting you in a trance, making you have to think your next words so you don’t stumble over them. Gosh, none of your other fans sounded like he did! All calm and self-assured, and…

“I really enjoyed the part when you were using your fingers. You had that lost look in your eye, as though you were on another planet. I thought it was really cute.”

You giggle, shuffling closer to your webcam so he has a good view of your cleavage. The ring-light behind your camera casts a flattering, bright hue over your body, accentuating the way your breasts spill out of your bra and bounce slightly as you move closer. You think you hear a rumble escape his throat, but you can’t be too sure. Either way, you lean into the camera, “You like it when I touch myself?”

“Honey, I don’t think there’s a man in this world who wouldn’t like that.”

Another spark flutters down your spine, and you wonder why his words are making you react like this. You’ve been on the receiving end of a bunch of different compliments from your fans day after day. So… why now? Why tonight? Why him? Why was it different now?

The buzz of your laptop knocks you out of your reverie.

A. Levinson donated $600.

“Do you think you could touch yourself for me again?” He asks, his voice all velvety smooth yet rugged at the same time. And it’s a request that he doesn’t even bother to veil as a question, and for some reason, you feel a jolt down there at his expectant tone. “I would really love to see that pretty look on your face again.”

You giggle nervously before remembering to put on your innocent girl act for the camera. “Touch myself? I dunno… It’s getting kind of late, sir.”

A. Levinson donated $800.

“I told you, please call me Ari for now.”

You don’t know whether you clench from the sheer amount of money he seems to be throwing at you as if it’s nothing, or the delicious hint of authority in his tone. None of your fans were like that – they all acted like you were very much the one on charge, the one with all the power, the one who could log out and end the chat and leave them hanging at any moment. Which you could – so then why was Ari acting like he was the one who held all the power?

And why did you not hate it at all?

Slowly, you slip your hand down your body, making sure to look demure and seductive in front of the camera.

“Play with your lingerie,” he commands, “Play with those cute little white ribbons.”

“Yeah, o-okay,” you breathe, inwardly wondering why the hell you’re not taking control of your own show like how you usually do. Why you’re so okay with letting him take the lead. Nevertheless, you twirl the ribbons of your panties around your fingers, stroking the satin softly as your core begins to pulse in need. But instead of going down to touch your pussy, you keep playing with your lingerie instead, imagining that your hands are not yours, but rather… someone else’s. Someone who’s rough, tough, masculine and rugged… And hell bent on teasing you.

“Use your other hand too,” Ari says, “Squeeze your pretty tits, baby girl. They look so pretty in that pink bra.”

“Th-Thank you, da–” You bite down on your tongue just in time, mortified that you almost let that word slip out. And you think you hear a smirk on the other end of the call, but you’re too preoccupied with listening to Ari to really pay any heed. With one hand still playing with your panties, you squeeze your breast with your other. Your nipple feels hard against your palm, and your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you knead your soft flesh at his orders.

“That’s so good, pretty girl. You look so pretty and cute like that.” Ari compliments. “In fact, your choice of lingerie is one of my favourite parts of your shows. You’re always wearing something cute and girly. It’s very charming, sweetheart.”

Oh, how was he being so calm right now? Usually, your fans got themselves worked up within the first few minutes of your private chats. It didn’t take much to get them to blow their loads and their money too, and the chat would be over in about five minutes. But right now? Right now, it seems you’re the one who’s getting worked up. Quickly, you clear your throat.

“Thanks. This set is one of my favourites.”

“Is that so? Well, you have to promise me you’ll buy yourself a few more sets as adorable as this one.” Ari responds, “Cute and pink and pretty, just like a princess. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you agree, cringing at how dumb you sound. He seems unperturbed, however, and you soon grow preoccupied with touching yourself again. Squeezing your other breast while you make direct eye contact with your camera.

“Good girl. Why don’t you touch your little pussy now? I’m sure she’s starting to feel a bit neglected.” He chuckles, and you marvel at how in control he sounds, how easily the words slip past his tongue. “After all, she’s the star of the show, isn’t she?”

“She is,” you agree softly, blinking at the camera, “She’s very wet.”

“Mm, I’m sure she is, baby girl. Push your panties aside and spread your legs so her daddy can take a look at her.”

You gasp when you hear him refer to himself as that, but he seems so damned unperturbed that you feel you have to act the same. Oh gosh, when had this all taken such a turn? Never before had you taken orders from a fan in a private chat, but it’s like he’s somehow programmed you to listen to him through that velvety voice of his.

You spread your legs like how you’d do on a regular livestream, angling the webcam to get the perfect shot. Your panties are soaked when you push them aside, and you bite your lip as you use two of your fingers to spread your folds. They glisten under the lighting, your wetness trailing down your thighs and staining the rug under you.

“Such a good girl,” Ari rewards you with a compliment. “Such a good little girl with a cute little baby pussy. You should be so proud, princess.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, do you want daddy to turn his camera on? And don’t worry, it’s alright if you’re too shy and you don’t want me to. You’re just a little girl after all, and I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Your heart lurches. Ari? Turn his camera on? Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see what he looked like! To see the face that matched that insanely chocolatey voice… A nervous thrill ripples through you, but you try your hardest to remain cool.

“Y-Yes,” you manage to get out, hating how you stutter. You never stutter on your own livestreams and chats. Never. You clear your throat, “Yes. Yes, you can turn your camera on.”

A moment later you find yourself staring at a set of deep blue eyes. You blink several times. Now, you see a handsome face. A very handsome face. Bronzed skin, a thick beard. Striking eyes, high cheekbones. A gorgeous, sloped nose. Long brown hair that brushes over his eyes before he pushes it back and out of his face. Oh, he was hot! And fully dressed, too. In an expensive-looking suit with his tie loosened around his neck.

“Oh… wow, Ari… I–” You’re at a loss for words, but thankfully Ari takes the reins.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.” He licks his lips, long lashes fluttering across his cheekbones as he blinks, “And call me daddy, baby. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, daddy, that’s fine.”

“I thought so. Now, why don’t you tell daddy your favourite way of keeping your baby pussy happy.” He murmurs softly, slowly, hypnotically.

You watch as his own hand slips down, and it thrills you to think of what he’s doing, what his camera isn’t showing. Oh, none of your other fans were as handsome as him! Or as put together or as in control! No, Ari’s energy is completely different. So softly dominant that it sends chills up and down your spine as you clamber to obey him.

Suddenly, you remember he’d asked a question.

“My stuffie, I guess.” You answer hypnotically, staring into his blue eyes that look to be so deep, so soulful. Like he was a man who’d seen everyone and everything this world had to offer. A man who’d lived an entire lifetime, a man who was, well, a man in the purest sense of the word. So virile, so mature – someone you could look up to, follow, listen to.

“Your stuffie.” Ari repeats, savouring the word on his tongue, “You stuffie keeps your pussy happy, huh? I think I remember watching one of your livestreams where you did something like that. But I’d like you to show me again, baby. Will you do that for me?”

Luckily, your stuffed teddy bear is only a foot away from you, and you quickly grab it. And it was true, sometimes you’d ride your stuffies during your livestreams. Your fans loved to watch you writhe and moan and lose yourself in the moment, watch you go from cuddling your stuffed toys to humping them and making yourself cum. Clearly, Ari had been a fan of this routine too.

You get into position, placing your teddy bear between your legs, watching how its fur goes damp as soon as it makes contact with your soaking pussy. Biting your lip, you waste no time as you start rocking back and forth tentatively. Ari lets out a rumble of approval, and you see his arm flex as he leans forward.

“That’s so good, baby girl. You like using your little friend to make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s one of my most viewed livestreams.”

He smirks, “But you’ll put on a better show for me right now, won’t you?”

“Yeah, daddy…”

Your breathing slowly goes shallow, mind clear of any thoughts except how sexy and manly Ari sounded on this call right now. And it feels so delicious already, your teddy’s fur catching on your throbbing clit, incensing you to grind down harder.

“You have a wishlist, babygirl?”

The question is posed so casually that it somehow almost winds you. Your hips slow down and you look up at your webcam. But Ari narrows his eyes, nodding his head as if commanding you to continue, which you do. God, it was so hot how nonchalant he was being — and yet he sounded so attentive too!

“A wishlist?” You squeak, voice going high-pitched as your hips pick up pace, and you wish it was Ari’s thigh you were grinding on instead of this stuffie. Your body’s doing that thing where it feels empty, craving something bigger, more substantial…

“Yes, sweetie. A wishlist. A list of things you want. Clothes or makeup or anything like that.” He’s pumping his dick now, you can tell with how his hand’s moving. But the rest of him looks so unperturbed and unbothered, as if he’s having a normal conversation and not jacking off with a camgirl while he watches her masturbate with a stuffed teddy.

“I—um—yeah, I do…” you somehow manage to get the words out, but you’re mostly focused on cumming now. Your mind conjures up images of you naked on top of a fully dressed Ari. Him big and powerful, guiding your hips with just one hand, dragging you back and forth on his muscular thigh. Or maybe picking you up and placing you on his bulge, letting you rub your soaking cunt on it while he calls you a good girl in that deep, sexy voice of his…

“Sweetheart? You with me?”

“I, yeah, sorry!” You pant, feeling so close and yet a part of you knows you have to answer him. “I d-do — I have a list but—”

“You’re going to send it to daddy after you cum,” he tells you. “A pretty little girl like you needs her daddy to reward her after she humps her pretty little princess cunt and gets off so nicely just like how I asked you to.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. And it’s his words that tip you over the edge. So dirty, yet he talks in such a sweet way! Oh, a man’s never spoken to you like that! So casually talked you through your orgasm, praising you so sweetly and telling you he’d buy you everything on your wish list?! Who was this man??

“Send it to me. Now.”

You’re weak and spent, legs shaking from cumming so hard. But you quickly send him your wish list on private chat. You doubted he’d buy everything on it — all the expensive jewellery, designer clothes, shoes — especially since he’d already showered you with so many cash donations. But you send it to him anyways, and he hums in approval.

“That’s such a good girl. I really enjoyed our chat, baby.”

Your heart sinks. Was this it?

“Why don’t you show daddy your pussy again, baby girl? I want to see how messy it is now.”

Again, you obey. Angling your webcam and opening your legs for him. A part of you imagines him doing it for you, gripping your soft thighs with his calloused, manly hands so he could inspect to his heart’s content. God, he just exuded dominant energy and it was making you lightheaded. Quickly, you spread your sopping folds with your fingers, letting him see everything.

“Fuck, you’re so messy, aren’t you?” Ari murmurs, and you watch him brush his long hair out of his face. His tanned skin glistens slightly, his lips pink and plump and you find yourself just staring at him in awe.

“I-I’m messy…” you repeat, feeling dumb and spaced out after your orgasm.

“Bet you need your daddy to clean up that baby pussy, don’t you?” He licks his lips, pumping himself faster. That’s when his camera lowers slightly, and your breath hitches at the sight of the angry red tip of his dick.

“I… I don’t know… I—”

He chuckles kind of breathlessly, “You’re all dumbed out, huh? That’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy understands.” Again, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you. “I understand that little girls like you get tired easily, especially after playing with your toy so naughtily like how you were just now. That’s why you need your daddy.”

“D-Daddy…” you whimper, incapable of saying anything else except repeating what he’s saying, but you’re able to press your thighs weakly together, as if his words are just too much and you need to get off again despite being so weak.

“You need me, don’t you? To hold you in my lap, clean you up, take care of you, think for you, buy you whatever you want. Lap at your little baby cunt till you cum in my mouth. Am I right?”

Ohfuck. You feel newfound thrill ripple down to your pussy, making you clench at his words.

“I… I don’t.. I just— daddy, I. —“

Ari chuckles breathlessly, and a lock of his hair falls over his forehead, but apart from that he still looks pristine. The complete opposite of fucked out, messy little you.

“You can’t even speak straight, can you, Princess? That’s alright, little girls like you aren’t meant to think or talk anyways. That’s your daddy’s job, that’s why I’m here. All you have to do is look cute and play with your little toy on my lap while daddy does all the thinking for you. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” You cry, feeling needy and vulnerable and still a little bit confused as to how this virtual stranger has reduced you to such a blubbering mess.

“Fuck. Say it, then. Tell me how badly you need me.”

“N-Need daddy,” you blubber, vaguely wondering what your viewers would think if they saw you now. Often, you acted all spaced out and whimpery in your livestreams. But this… oh, this wasn’t acting at all. Ari had well and truly reduced you to a whimpering mess — and you didn’t even know the guy!

“I know you need me,” he croons, “Little girls like you always need their daddy. And I want to take care of you too, sweet baby.”

“Please do!” You cry, “Need you to take care of me so bad! Can’t think, can’t… I can’t…”

You press your thighs together and cum again. And it’s a shock to you, you hadn’t expected to orgasm again so quickly. But you hear Ari groan, and a moment later you watch enraptured as he blows his load, spurts of his thick cum landing on his palm. And you wish so bad you were there in person to clean him up too.

“Both of you are quiet for a minute or so after that. All you can hear is his breathing - rapid at first before it goes steady. You, on the other hand, are beside yourself. Whimpering, crying, breathing hard. You just want him to hold you - and it’s crazy because you don’t even know who he is! Not really, anyways. But he looks so big and strong even on the laptop screen, and you really feel so small in front of his eyes, but in a good way… He had a way with words, so soft and dominant that it made you want him to take care of you, and-

"Thank you, baby girl,” Ari chuckles after a while, “thank you for indulging me.”

You clear your throat, “I…uh… I… okay.”

“You still dumbed out, honey?”

You lower your eyes and nod, feeling all kinds of shy now that you’ve cum twice and your senses are all coming back. Had you really gotten that submissive and vulnerable with a viewer on private chat? Oh gosh…

“Do you need daddy to tell you what to do next?”

You nod, embarrassed at how helpless you feel. Your legs are still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm, ears still buzzing from that smooth, gravelly voice of his as he’d coaxed you through those two orgasms.

“First, I want you to send me that wishlist of yours. Then, I want you to go and take a nice, hot bath to calm yourself down, alright?”

“O-Okay, daddy,” you agree quietly.

“Mm, that’s my good girl. Then, I want you to put on something comfy and tuck yourself into bed. I know little girls like you need your daddy to do that, but for now I need you to do it for yourself. Got that?”

You nod dumbly.

“Daddy needs you to use your words, sweet girl.”

“Yes, I - uh - I’ll take a bath and tuck myself in, daddy.”

“Good girl. But I’ll need you to take pictures as proof you’ve followed my instructions.”

“I will, I will!” You blurt out, wanting to make this virtual stranger proud. Oh, you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore but you didn’t care. Not in the least.

“Thank you, baby. And one last thing.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Would you like to talk to daddy again tomorrow night?”

“Yes! Please, yes!”

“I thought so. Why don’t you give me your number, sweetheart, and I’ll be sure to make that happen.”

THE END.

Honestly wrote this super quickly so it’s probably paced like shit and not that good but YOLO. also i tried something different with the layout heheehehe LMK WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE FIC PLSSS LOVE YOU GUYS

[koenigami]

not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?

tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18

It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.

He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.

That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."

The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?

Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"

You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"

"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"

"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"

Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."

"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.

"Yeah."

Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"

Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.

"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.

"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."

The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."

What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.

He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.

"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"

"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.

a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-

[baeshijima]

hmmm.... thoughts about composer!reader, whose pieces are always created for and featured in mr reca's films/projects.

people aren't sure when it first started, but in the release of one of his prior films was an ost. of course, it's not unusual to have music in such projects, but that one had felt... different, somehow — in the way its composition struck the chords of many, with billions across the cosmos instantly scouring for who made that piece.

it, of course, didn't take all that long when your name was featured in the credits. however there was barely any information aside from your name and credentials. (seriously, how could there not even be a single photo?!) no one knew what you looked like for quite a long time, only ever recognising your name and your music; even despite the numerous interviews, mr reca had never disclosed anything about you other than your talents. it came to a point where everyone believed they would never see your appearance.

well, until all hell broke loose during the annual intergalactic film awards, that is.

everyone already knew the drill — if mr reca had directed a film that year, it would undoubtedly win the adapted/original screenplay, cinematography, directing, production design, sound, music (original score and song), and film of the year awards, which also led to you winning both the music awards. usually, the composers would be the ones to collect said awards. however, the masses have become used to mr reca being the one to collect them on your behalf with thank you's also on your behalf.

that's how it's been ever since you made your mark in the universe, and so it really is understandable the uproar created by those in and out of attendance when the one who went collect the two awards wasn't the esteemed director, but a completely unfamiliar person; you.

you are definitely younger than they originally thought, having believed it must have been someone of a senior status of sorts to have consistently created such masterpieces. all eyes are trained on you as you step on stage and into the limelight for the first time, the light enhancing your features and formal attire when approaching the mic with a small flashcard in hand. your mouth opens, and the audience leans in with baited breaths as they await your first words.

...only for nothing to come out.

everyone watches a little dumbfounded as you try to talk once more but, aside from gaping like a fish, your efforts remain futile. it doesn't take long for you to clamp your mouth and eyes shut, even raising the awards in front of you in an attempt to shield your face from the crowd.

you... you were just really shy. or maybe a little...socially awkward, perhaps...? if this was the reason you never showed yourself, then they're beginning to understand why...

it passes in a blur — quite literally in that of brown. one moment you are alone on the stage, the next you have the presence of the renown director standing slightly in front of you, as though acting as a shield from the many prying eyes.

"apologies," he begins, his usual smile on display, "but my dearest composer has been suffering with a sore throat these past few days. on their behalf, we thank you all kindly for your support in our work."

and then he swiftly leaves with you tucked under and shielded by his coat, murmuring unreadable words to you as you both disappear backstage and leave everyone in a state of frenzy; to both those inside the ceremonial hall, and to those watching live elsewhere.

(it was only discovered after the awards ceremony concluded what the director had said to you, with the uploader being dubbed as a holy saint for their contributions to society. while the visual aspects of the video itself were not the clearest, barely anyone had it within themselves to complain when the audio was clear as crystal:

"and here i thought you were going to be brave and face your stage fright after all that pep-talk you gave yourself on the way here."

"i'm sorry... i really thought i could do it this time..."

"now, now, i'm merely teasing. you made a big step just making an appearance here today. i know how much courage this took for you, and i'm proud of you for facing it."

"really...?"

"but of course. i'm always proud of you, [name]. there is not a moment where i haven't been.")

(it also was not long until the cosmos was taken by storm when various pictures snapped during the awards ceremony spread. the millions of candids featuring you were one of the most liked and shared, with the top spot joined by the sequence of pictures taken of mr reca's soft expression when watching you onstage, into his realisation of your predicament, into him running onstage and shielding you from the cameras when making your way backstage.)

(...the drastic influx of fan accounts dedicated to both you alone and to you and reca should really be a studied phenomenon.)

[sttoru]

dad!Toji losing megumi on his sight in a grocery store.

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.

“where the hell did that brat go. . .” toji sighs in frustration as he makes his third trip around the numerous aisles, peeking through each gap between to see where his son could’ve possibly hid.

you had been gone for one minute to grab something you had forgotten in the car, leaving your husband and son alone at the grocery store. you thought toji would be more than capable of keeping an eye on megumi during the time you left.

he did succeed for a couple seconds, but then somehow lost sight of the little boy. it happened out of the blue—even for someone as quick as toji, his child seemed to have disappeared into thin air, without him noticing at all.

“tsk, just wait ‘til i catch ya..” toji scoffs and makes quick strides. the other customers seemed to scurry off to the sides as the dark-haired man passes them—the reason for this being his bulky and tall body and that cold yet pissed off expression on his face whilst walking forwards.

of course, toji was still secretly worried for megumi. he didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario at all. he needs to stay calm and collected in such situations. panicking will do him no good.

toji passes by a pit of plushies, paying it no mind until he hears a soft, muffled giggle from that same area. he stops in his tracks and turns his head to the right. that voice was one he could recognise from miles away.

“oh, y’re so done.” the dark-haired man mutters under his breath and digs through the many plushies, hands looking for the source of that giggle. there were a couple strands of dark blue hair sticking out from between the big stuffed animals and toji wasted no time, “c’mere, brat.”

he uses a bit of his strength and fishes out a child from under the pile of softness—his child.

“papa!” megumi squeals and was holding onto a plushie: a cute black dog one. it seems like he had waddled off and climbed onto the box to grab that specific plushie, but couldn’t get out afterwards, “papa, waf! waf!”

toji sighs and holds megumi up by the back of his shirt, walking back to your shopping cart. he gains some stares due to the obscure way he was carrying his son around, though megumi himself couldn’t care any less as he cuddles up to the plushie in his tiny arms.

toji puts the little boy in the baby seat and grabs onto the stuffed animal, tugging at it; “gimme that. ya can’t have it ‘cause ya ran off without tellin’ me.”

megumi whines and pulls the toy back in his arms, giving toji a pleading look. his lips formed a desperate pout and his eyes were starting to glisten with tears that appeared on his waterlines.

“yeah, stare at me all you want with those big bug eyes—y’re not gonna get that.” your husband shakes his head and grabs the plushie again, taking it away from his son to put it back.

megumi reacts to this by curling his chubby hand around toji’s index finger—still with that cute pout on his lips whilst trying to prevent his dad from stepping away. it’s specifically those shiny blue orbs that seem to mellow toji’s heart to the point he almost gives in.

“…”

you come back after five minutes and spot your family back in the candy aisle. the duo didn’t appear to have seen you yet since they were busy picking out some sweets for later.

“hi, my angels.” you creep up behind toji and tap his back. he instantly steps aside and your (surprisingly) super excited son comes into view.

megumi was smiling widely and that’s when your eyes land on something in his arms.

“oh, you got ‘gumi a dog plushie!” you gasp and seem to get excited for your child—megumi giggling right alongside you, “how nice!”

toji rolls his eyes, though wasn’t about to admit that he eventually did give in to megumi’s adorable tactics. he gently flicks the little boy’s forehead and looks back at you;

“didn’t get it for him out of my own free will.” your husband grumbles and then continues to squish megumi’s cheeks together using one hand, “this little brat threatened me.”

“i’m sure he did.” you chuckle and nudge toji’s side with your elbow. you knew just how much of a softie really is for his son.

“i’m not lyin’,” toji replies with a sigh and pushes the cart ahead, you following next to him with a smile, “he threatened me with those big eyes of his. i’m tellin’ ya, that stuff is dangerous.” —for my heart, he adds in his head.

you couldn’t contain your laughter as you hear your lover’s words. your gaze then lands on megumi, who was contentedly staring up at both his parents, cuddled up to the big stuffed animal.

“good job.” you gave megumi a thumbs up and ruffle his hair as a reward. the kid sticks his tongue out and almost looks proud of the fact that he got his way in the end.

toji really was just a big softie for his son. and for his wife as well, of course.

[sunaluv]

more "come get your man"❗❗ with some more haikyuu boys maybe but honestly? whoever you want 🙏

i got u 😉

part 1 here

pairings: osamu, atsumu, kuroo

OSAMU

onigiri miya was due to close in the next two minutes. you watched your boyfriend close up the counter from your spot on the stool. you liked sitting in when his shop was empty like this, it felt kinda…domestic.

it triggered your thoughts on the future with the hotter twin (in your opinion), you could see yourself walking down the alter to meet him, eating on the floors of your unfurnished home, him standing behind you whilst you rocked your child to sleep—

“hey samu what should i do with these!” you almost rolled your eyes at the voice shouting from the kitchen.

osamu had explained to you how he hired one of his friends from high school to work for him as a favour. she had just finished getting her degree and was looking for work in the area.

you didn’t mind, you were secure in your relationship so there was no reason to be pissed. that was until you had met her and introduced yourself to her as his girlfriend. like a switch had flipped, she instantly started to openly show her hatred for you behind sugar coated insults and not so subtle faces she made only when your boyfriend was out of sight.

you watched osamu’s chest expand in a deep breath. he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before flipping his cap back on, pecking your temple before heading to the back. “i’ll go see what she wants then we’ll leave, ‘kay?”

you nodded and packed your bag, leaving your space clear and waiting by the counter for your man.

a whole five minutes had passed. you haven’t heard anything which was a sign that you should go investigate, given that girls record.

“…i thought we had a rule for customers showing up before closing time.” a hushed voice whispered.

“we do, there’s no customers here.”

“so who’s still sat out front, you always do this sam—”

ahem.

two faces looked to your spot at the door opening. one looking guilty, one relieved.

“you ready to go samu?” you asked sweetly. “it’s been five minutes and it’s movie night, you know i’m dying to catch up on our franchise.” you not so subtly bragged.

he breathed out through a chuckle. “of course baby, sorry for the hold up. i’m done here anyways.” he walked towards you, missing the dropped jaw of his employee.

you wrapped your arm around his waist before you left, not before smirking at the red-faced girl who was shaking in anger? sadness? embarrassment? you didn’t care.

your shoulders dropped at the chime of the bell followed by the nights breeze as you began your comfortably silent walk home.

“you’re cute when you stake your claim on me ya know?” osamu flicked your forehead.

“shaddap.” you retorted. “if she doesn’t understand boundaries i’ll set them.”

ATSUMU

atsumu was a textbook example of a frat boy. the parties, the girls, the popularity, the girls.

the only stereotype he’s not playing into is dating the leader of the girls sorority house, and some people felt like he’s doing it all wrong.

“omg hi! welcome to—” the cheery voice dripped upon seeing you at the door. “the boys house, who do you know here?”

the girl you recognised as the sorority house leader shamelessly eyes you up and down, twirling the ends of her blonde hair.

if she was here, the rest of the girls were too. they did everything as a culty pack: traveling, partying and even dating. you always thought it was weird how they were all paired with a frat boy, but you never said anything. maybe to them at least.

they obviously hated you for being a rock in their river.

“i’m here for atsumu,” your brow quirked.

her face hardened before plastering into a plastic smile.

“sorry ya just missed him! maybe if you go to—”

“BABY IS THAT YOU!?” a loud, excited voice belonging to your boyfriend shouted.

looking over her shoulder, you watched his blonde locks fly with the wind as he shoved past the girl who let out a disheartened gasp, and picked you up before picking you up and twirling you around.

“i missed you so much,” his soft lips continuously pressed against your face before pouring all his emotion into one last kiss on your lips.

“i missed you too tsum,” you giggled “i was only gone a week though.”

“a week to long! come i have so much to catch you up on.”

again ignoring the fuming girl who had watched the whole interaction, he damn near dragged you up the stairs past all his frat bros who you made sure to shout a greeting at as you passed.

you could hear the rest of the girls from the sorority comforting the girl who was now crying, talkin bout ‘he’ll come around, you two are destined to be together. but you didn’t care, you knew atsumu knew about his rep as a frat bro and he has explained to you about how much he doesn’t care about the ‘dumb stereotypes’ and ‘he likes what he likes, and thats you’.

“you know she likes you right?”

“does she, i thought the only reason she wants me that bad is so their matchup can be completed…”

“that’s part of it, but i feel like she genuinely likes you…” you trailed.

“hey, hey,” he held your cheeks tuning your focus on him. “i don’t care about all that okay? i’m yours and yours alone”

you nodded, placing your hands over his.

“now,” he pulled out his phone going straight to the photos app “let me show ya all you’ve missed.”

KUROO

“tetsuro stopppp,” the girl who had been partnered with your boyfriend for a science project whacked his arm playfully. “omg girl tell your boyfriend to stop.”

you looked at her, then him, then back at her. “stop being a bitch tetsuro.” you played into her antics, drawing out his name like she did.

“not like that, you don’t need to be mean. it was literally a joke.” she mumbled.

kuroo’s eyes met your rolling ones across the table as he shrugged.

“so what are you guys doing after this,” she asked the both of you, but stared at kuroo.

you had explained how you were going to the mall after, so they should probably finish up so you can make it soon.

“you’re going on a date? that’s so cuuuute, there’s actually this really cute place we saw together when—”

“i’ll be right back. toilet.” kuroo stated tensely, sending you an apologetic look as he saw your panicked expression. the both of you knew what her intentions were.

she watched him leave, all the way until the toilet door closed then she turned to you. “can i be real with you a sec, have a heart to heart you know as a fellow sister.”

she didn’t let you respond before she spoke out. “i highkey think tetsu deserves better, he seems really tense around you and i know your dating or whatever but i feel like i could treat him better. i know him.”

woahwoahwoahwhat.

“no.”

“no?”

“no!” you took a deep breath in, before calling her name. “i know you like him, you haven’t even respected me or him enough to hide it. but if you really loved him or knew him, you would know how uncomfortable he feels with you openly flirting with him while he’s in a committed relationship.”

your words hit her like a truck. “you’re not listening to me,” she reached for your hands across the table which you retracted before she could reach. “he needs someone like me, i’m not trying to diss you but you dress kinda bland, your not in many classes together, he doesn’t even talk about you all that often.”

“i do when you overstep, but otherwise i’m just trying to do my work and leave.”

she turned around to see her dear tetsu, arms folded, hurt look on his face. you knew he didn’t like confrontation, so he must have been feeling a strong type of way for him to talk like this.

“tetsu—”

“kuroo.”

“tetsuro,” she stood up placing an arm on his arm which made him step back. “please just come to me, you know we’ll be good together too…”

noticing your boyfriends drastically increased discomfort, you stepped in. “i think you’ve done enough,” you put yourself between the two of them.

wordlessly, you took his larger hand in yours and left the library. after checking up on him, the two of you decided to have a home date instead.

“thanks for stepping in by the way” his voice came out small.

you squeezed his hand. “anything for you tetsu”

[shrimpybbq]

you gotta believe me, baby

synopsis: when a stray bag of coke is found in rafe’s drawer, rafe’s fiancée grapples with its implications

The young woman trifled through Rafe’s desk, the pen he requested lost deep amongst his amalgamation of items. Frustratingly, she kept searching until her gaze landed on a small item strewn under a notebook, the clear bag reflecting in the light. Her heart felt as if it stopped beating. The small bag and its contents were instantly recognisable to the woman, her having seen her fiancé with it many a time. Except instead of keeping it hidden under a book, he would have the white powder diced and sorted into hefty lines on a table, a rolled up $50 set aside ready to help him snort it.

She remained still for a moment before tentatively reaching for the bag, as if it would suddenly change its contents if she waited long enough. And yet, as she picked the bag up it felt like a long forgotten truth was slapping her in the face. Of course it was coke. The woman pondered the situation for a moment for she was sure Rafe was clean - but then again, he had been under an increasing amount of stress lately. Cameron Development had been taking up all of his time, as had the move, so would it really be that far-fetched for him to start using again?

Soon, she began pacing around the room, her mind beginning to catastrophise the situation. It had been so hard to get through each day when Rafe was high, his constantly shifting mood and irritable personality making him intolerable to be around. Her mind flashed to the moments alone, trying to soothe a colicky baby that cried and cried alone in the guest room while Rafe spent his evenings getting high with Barry. She'd never felt so alone and isolated. She had no-one: Her parent's were a no-go, Ward and Rose could only help so much, and Sarah was busy being a teenager. Sometimes, it was as if Wheezie was her only friend, always loving to play with her nephew even if only for a moment. In those moments, she had wondered if any of it was worth it - maybe everyone would be better off if she left to the mainland to live with her aunt, removing her presence from Kildare completely. Rafe hadn’t wanted Charlie in the beginning, not really, and as she cried alone in tandem with her son, she felt it.

Rafe had called out his fiancée’s name three times by now, only to receive nothing in response. Initially assuming she had been sidetracked, it was only once he finally ambled over to his study did he realise the true cause of her silence. Rafe froze at the sight of the bag of white powder flung haphazardly atop his papers, his heart racing as a chill spread across his body. Shit shit shit.

Rafe’s panicked gaze met hers suddenly, each expressing a multitude of worries. Rafe watched as his sweet girl looked at him, so defeated and dejected, her shoulders slumped as she faced him. Initial words began to leave her mouth, only to be swiftly cut off by her partner,

“Baby, please, you gotta let me explain, ok?” Rafe was pleading with her, a tone he rarely utilised unless in the most dire of situations, “it’s not mine.”

Her eyes, once shifted towards the window, snapped back to his frame. “It’s in your desk Rafe! Whose else would it be?”

“Fuck, uh- fuck ok, well it is mine, but it’s not like I bought it last week. Shit, that sounds bad, I didn’t-” Rafe sputtered, his logical explanation getting muddled up as his anxiety grew. He could tell his fiancée didn’t believe it if the tears beginning to escape were any indication.

“Rafe, please, just tell me the truth. You owe me that much,” she pleaded. Rafe felt his heart shatter at the desperation she could not hold back.

“I had this desk moved from my dad’s office, ok? Whenever he used to catch me doing coke, he would lock my supply up in his desk in his attempt to get me clean - not that that ever fuckin’ worked,” he began to explain, “I never even properly cleaned out his desk, baby. I figured he would have something written down that would provide some of his infinite wisdom bullshit that would help me in the future, so I just didn’t touch anything.”

The young woman stared at the Cameron opposite her, feeling rooted to her spot as he answered her questions. Truthfully, she remembered Rafe’s occasional complaining about his dad’s attempts to control his drug habit. She could never truly comfort him properly when she silently thanked Ward, but his statement rang true in her mind. It was plausible that Rafe really hadn’t touched his dad’s things.

“Come on baby, you have to believe me! You really think I would throw all of this,” Rafe gestured, arms outstretched, “us, our family - away for a few fuckin’ ounces of coke? I got better and that’s because of you, because of you being there for me and the kids and - baby please, I’m telling the truth.”

As Rafe begged and pleaded, he had made his way to stand in front of her, taking her hands in his as his fingers gripped hers tightly. She looked up at him, tears still spilling down her cheeks. He had gotten better - ever since they arrived in Guadeloupe, she hadn’t seen him touch cocaine. Alcohol, sure, but even Topper offering him coke at a party had seemingly rolled off his back.

“You’re not lying to me? You swear it? On the kids lives?” She begged, needing to hear him say it again. She wanted to believe him so badly.

“I promise baby, I swear to god. I swear that I haven’t touched that shit in a year. Please, I’m telling the truth baby.”

With his final plea, she felt her heartbeat begin to slow, its return to normal allowing her to breathe properly once more. A large exhale left her body before she flung herself against Rafe, her arms wrapping around his torso. His arms immediately returned the gesture, comfortingly rubbing up and down her back.

“I can’t do that shit again, Rafe. Ok?” She muttered, her voice muffled against his shirt. He leaned down to gently stroke her hair before placing a tender kiss in her hair.

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore. I’m different now, for you and for our family. You can rely on me, ok? I’m always gonna be here for you,” Rafe stated firmly, his words filled with conviction. He felt a small smile tug at his lips as his fiancée nodded into his chest, her arms tightening around him further.

“I love you, Rafe. More than anything.”

“I love you too, baby. It’s you and me ‘till the end.”

As the pair stood in their embrace for a moment longer, they felt the tension seep away slowly and be replaced with tenderness. For such a rocky start to a relationship, the pair had watched each other grow and mature. Neither of them were perfect, but they would never give up on each other. Rafe didn’t believe in soulmates, but if he did, he was certain that the woman in his arms was his.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Guppy's Halloween

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: The eighth of my Halloween-centric fics

"Don't," Leah warns," Kyra, don't you dare."

"I didn't say anything," Kyra snickers.

"You were going to."

"I mean..." Kyra grins. "Should we stop calling you Lord Farquaad, Mophead?"

Leah knew something like this would happen this morning. Hell, she'd known something like this would happen when Lia came to her with this idea.

Usually, she'd refuse but you'd been there too, looking up at her with wide, eager eyes.

She'd be heartless if she didn't say yes, which brings her to this moment with Kyra.

Leah is dressed as a mop, embarrassed beyond all belief but still holding strong.

"Oi," She snaps," Just because you're going mainstream with your costume! I mean, a vampire Kyra? Really?"

"Hey! Vampires are a classic1"

"Vampires are boring," Leah deadpans," You're just jealous Guppy didn't want to partner with you for a costume."

"So she got you too, huh?"

Leah turns, eyes wide.

Kyra howls with laughter, nearly going to ground as she wheezes, pointing between Leah and the newly arrived Codi.

"Really on theme," Leah notes," Did Guppy choose that out too?"

"I think so. Lia sent me the link though."

Codi stands in the middle of the gym and Leah isn't quite sure which one of them is wearing the most embarrassing costume.

Leah and her mop costume or Codi and her wet floor sign costume.

By this point, Kyra has actually fallen on the floor, clutching at her stomach as she nearly cries from laughter.

It only gets worse when Mariona comes in...dressed as a broom. Not like a witch with a broomstick. Just a generic broom that anyone would find scattered around the house.

The three of them look down at Kyra, who's on the floor roaring with laughter and wonder briefly if she's ever going to be able to get back up again.

Kyra manages to quieten her giggles for barely a moment before Lia, dressed as a bottle of kitchen cleaner, comes in and suddenly Kyra just can't manage it.

She's back on the floor again and, unlike everyone else, Lia doesn't seem to be embarrassed at all.

Then again, Lia's got experience in this after you and her dressed up last year as tea towels.

"Kyra," Lia says, looking down at her not exactly in judgement but with that mum look that everyone recognises," Stop laughing. Guppy's coming in a moment and you're not going to make her feel bad by laughing."

Kyra sobers up quickly.

The last time she'd upset you was when she'd messed up all your organised equipment boxes. She'd never seen you cry so hard, stressed beyond all belief and she'd had to avoid Lia for the whole rest of the day because of how angry she'd been.

"You will be nice," Lia says," And happy. And you will tell Guppy that you think her costume is so cool and you're so jealous, got it?"

Kyra swallows thickly. "Got it."

Lia smiles. "Good. Guppy, everyone's ready! You can come in now!"

Leah's used to your style of costumes. She's only seen you wear something 'normal' once and that was when you were still a baby and didn't have your own opinions.

Lia had dressed you up as a little werewolf but that was the only time.

All the others had been something so quintessentially you that Leah wonders how you can even have new ideas.

But then you come in and Leah's reminded that yes, of course you can have new ideas.

"I'm Henry Hoover!" You announce," Mummy helped make my costume!"

"Oh, wow, Guppy!" Leah says instantly," You look great!"

You grin, turning around so everyone can get a good look.

"We took the nose tube from our old Henry Hoover," You explain to Codi and Mariona," Our old one broke but we didn't throw it away because we can still use bits of it! Like for my costume. Do you like it?"

"It looks so good," Codi nods," You look so cool."

"Mario?"

Mariona grins, dotting kisses all over your face as you giggle. "You and Lia did a great job."

"Your costumes look good too!" You say, still laughing as Mariona's kisses tickle your face.

The assembled girls fawn and coo over you until you feel all happy and floaty, moving away to finally to look at Kyra with a face full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Kyra," You say," Did the store not have any other costumes?"

Kyra looks down at her vampire costume complete with a fancy Dracula cape. "Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?"

You make a face, like you're trying not to be rude. "It's just...It's a bit boring, isn't it?"

Leah's face lights up. "I told you!"

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy had me sobbing, please please please do a part two

Maybe Y/n comes back to the town because one of her grandparents is ill and she needs to take care of them, and cowboy keeps being like "...pay attention to meee"

I AM DROOLING OVER THIS MANN

Scenario: if (Y/n) has to come back to the town in order to care for her ill grandparents.

If yandere cowboy chose not to go after you or if she came back before he had the chance to do so, it wouldn’t be long until the news of your arrival reached his ears.

It’d be a solid five minutes of him contemplating everything before he starts rushing to your grandparents house. Whoever is with him when that happens think he’s possessed, but when they learn the reason for his sudden departure they’re not surprised. After all, you’re the only thing he’s been able to talk about; ever since he met you till you left. It was the worst when you left. He’d barricaded himself inside his house the rest of the day and refused any visits form worried friends and family.

Oh, all the citizens in town noticed the drop in his mood. You’d be stupid not to see how much he was hurting. Yandere cowboy’s family heard him cry himself to sleep every night after your departure. He didn’t smile unless he was talking to someone(he didn’t want to put his heartbreak on display for people to witness) and his work lost the energy it once had. To sum it up, he was a husk of a man.

When he learns you’re back he initially believes you’ve changed your mind about your relationship. But when you open the door(annoyed at his constant knocking) and he tries to embrace you, you tell him the true reason why you came back and his smile instantly drops. He attempts to play it down with a laugh, well that’s definitely embarrassing.

You say to him that you don’t want him near you. You need to take care of your grandparents, there’s no time(and it would be inappropriate) to run around like hopeless lovers everyday. He can’t stand outside the house and pray for you to become something more. At first you try giving back or ignoring the various gifts he sends, but since the very obvious ‘no’ doesn’t go through his head, you decide to throw them away.

The cowboy doesn’t understand why his previous signs of affection doesn’t work anymore. You loved when he invited you to go swimming in the creek, the flowers he sent you(hand-picked of course!), and the cheesy pick-up lines he’d learned from the only movie his family had on vhs tape. Why aren’t you recognising his efforts?

He is literally on his knees for you, begging you to talk to him. It only gets worse after you reject his gifts, he comes to your grandparents house everyday and refuses to leave until you give him the time of day. You have to yell at him to go home or he’ll be there until sundown. Worst case scenario you have to chase him away with the shotgun your grandfather had locked in the living room cabinet. Sometimes that doesn’t work either, the cowboy knows you’re not really gonna shoot him. Honestly, you kind of want to prove him wrong at times. The rinse and repeat is getting quite tedious.

There doesn’t seem to be a way for you to get rid of this clingy cowboy.

[staryuee]

LOVE TRIAL!

GUILTY AREN’T I? OF ALL MY LOVE CRIMES…

— [warnings]. [mentions of drinking (venti)]

— synopsis . . . [char] has decided to come clean and acknowledge all the facts necessary for conviction. the conviction? they’re in love with you.

(more simply, them just being hopeless losers that are in love with you hcs ๑>◡<๑)

— characters . . . venti, zhongli, tartaglia, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, navia, clorinde, arlecchino

— notes . . . i can't go on the genshin x reader tag anymore bc of the amount of smut on it, i’m so loved starved rn…*sighs dramatically* i added venti & zhongli purely bc i love them (plus they’d also be on trial for war reasons so hehe)

VENTI — 温迪

love is quite similar to the wind in a way. comes quickly, randomly, it can hit you hard, it can be gentle and peaceful yet it can also be irritating and noisy.

currently, venti was feeling all the negatives: drunk, irritated, and his heartbeat drowning out any exterior noises to the degree he didn’t even hear your recognisable footsteps entering angel’s share. normally, he’d instantly perk up at the mere glimpse of you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to even bother raising his head up from his arms anymore.

“venti? someone asked me to come check up on you…you alright? (o*｡_｡)o” you gently touched his back in comfort which just made his heart swell.

“mfh…i’m—hic—okay (ﾟヘﾟ)?” he responds nonchalantly.

“yeah, you sound very self-assured don’t you...come here then.”

“drink with me… (♡´𓋰`♡)”

“nope, i’m getting you far away from angel’s share, this is bad, even for you.” you speak to him so softly it almost makes him sleepy as you attempt to lift him up. venti wrapped his arms around your neck in response, pouting at you with a hazy and dizzy look.

his hand travels to your cheek, delicately caressing it with weird concentration. he leans into what seems like a kiss before pausing and resting his forehead onto your shoulder instead. he whispers in a delicate and dreamy tone, “i love you… too much.”

ZHONGLI — 钟离

zhongli fiddled with the brooch you gifted him while out on a stroll the other day with a complaisant smile, humming a tune to himself that he specifically remembered you sung. it was such a lovely melody, something so serene and gentle it was almost like the feeling of sunlight on your skin. or perhaps that was only the case because you sung it?

he’s an ancient being with countless of prior lifetimes and ones ahead; he’s no lovesick fool, but he couldn’t deny that the giddy feeling in his churning stomach, and the swirling of his heart is a rather enticing experience, one which he cannot tire from.

his mind traced back to the short hangout you had earlier today; nothing unusual, just a walk around liyue harbour with his hand inching closer to yours, breath hitching at the minute contact before he retracted his hand to awkwardly play with his rings. oh, and that angelic smile that he loved so much…

zhongli traced his bottom lip, imagining it as your own as a silly smile graced his face at his delusion. would you lean into his touch? move away? be startled, confused, or even worried? would you look away? or…

ahh…perhaps, he’s a little head over heels for you, alright?

TARTAGLIA — 公子

“tartaglia, please. this is seriously too much!!” he crumpled another letter with that specific and significant order and threw it skillfully over into the bin. there’s no such thing as “too much” when it comes to showering someone with gifts, ESPECIALLY during important holidays and events! at least that’s what tartaglia’s delusional lovesick mind has led him to wholeheartedly believe.

he gazes over at the countless trinkets you’ve given him over the course of your adventures and vacations; i mean if you can do it, why can’t he? little does he realise that “trinkets” is much more acceptable than “gifts that pile up to your ceiling at the end of each week”.

it makes sense for you to want to spoil someone any way you can if you love them.

…love them?? did he love you? i mean, he accepts your affection like it’s a natural instinct, sends you letters and gifts biweekly, his entire family knows you, and whenever you exchange gifts during holidays he purposefully skims his fingers over yours.

but that’s all just friendly gestures…okay listen he may have believed santa clause (or the teyvat equivalent…?) was real for several years because of pulcinella but he’s not THAT horrifically oblivious (grits teeth). he absolutely adores you, and the letters he has stashed away, that could practically count as love confessions due to how descriptive they are of your character, are solid evidence.

WANDERER — 流浪者

your mind has three defense mechanisms against impactful events: repression, denial and displacement. all of which were prevalent with the wanderer.

he pushed the conscious memories of abandonment into his unconscious, he ignored the reality of his feelings for you to avoid any form of attachment, and proceeded to take out his anger onto you because of the way you made him feel.

he’s convinced himself he hates you.

hate, within the context of a romantic relationship, arises mainly from a relational betrayal. betrayal trauma can feel an awful lot like the dull and lingering pain after a swift punch to the gut. the person who hurt you isn't a stranger, yet when they leave, it certainly feels like you never knew them at all.

that’s precisely why he can’t fall for you…but he does so anyway; because how was he meant to override the childish fluttering in his prototype heart whenever you gently brushed your shoulders together when walking, or when your eyes met and you instantly smiled at him so stupidly?

and well, he isn’t really doing a good job of pretending he hates you when he lets you touch him so freely, or when he seeks your simple affections out without shame…

☆ ITTY BITTY SPOILERS ☆ for both fontaine archon quests 🐳

LYNEY — 林尼

lyney rubbed his weary eyes as the light began to settle into his view. while initially blurry, after blinking a few times, lyney realised exactly where he was; the opera epiclese. yet he’s not standing where he and his twin would be if they were preforming a magic show, rather, he was standing directly where an accused perpetrator would.

despite how hazy he felt, that tinge of anxiety managed to bubble into his stomach to ironically stabilise him. the stomping sound of a cane reverberated through the room which fixed his attention to the iudex. “order.” his voice caused lyney to grimace whatever words he’d utter next. why was he reliving this moment?

“mister lyney, i hereby declare you as guilty in this love trial.”

lyney couldn’t help but blink and tilt his head in confusion…what kind of trial? was that some sort of code? 【・_・?】

“with no further objections, the oratrice shall now deliver its final verdict.” however, before he could hear the motions of the machine in action, he awoke: sweaty, confused, and face flushed a brilliant red hue. lyney glanced over at his bedside table, his cheeks tinting even redder at the sight of a rose that he gained from your fine hands.

maybe that dream was trying to tell him something…(｡•́︿•̀｡)

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

recently, the skies of fontaine have been ever so clear. every blemish of grey spotted clouds disarrayed into a flurry of white, the sun blazing out and making it the most perfect atmosphere for a pleasant summer. though…this was the middle of october, so this particular weather puzzled the fontaine citizens, albeit with little complaint.

neuvillette sat in his office with a gentle and subtle smile expressed his soft features, although he maintained that ‘air’ of professionalism as he went over a recent investigation, he subconsciously grazed his fingertips over a letter with your name on it.

to neuvillette, love is a lot like a trial (or perhaps that’s the only analogy he can conjure up to comprehend his deepening feelings for you). you put yourself out there, presenting your best case for why you deserve to be loved, just as a lawyer presents their case for why their client is innocent. it involves the same sense of vulnerability, uncertainty, and even risk: you don't know how the outcome will turn out, and you have to have faith in the process and trust in the person who is judging (or loving) you.

his judgement about you, however, doesn’t need much thought or even a confirmation of the verdict with the oratrice. he’s in love with you, devoted, if you will. and perhaps, if you’re willing, he’d be happy to make a whole argumentative case on why you deserve him.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

he’s very tempted to make a case against you.

you’ve committed the most heinous crime known to teyvat, one which no person has had the courage to fulfil:

stealing his heart.

how long would he have you down in the fortress for to pay for your crimes? glad you asked, because he’s made an entire mental plan for whenever you visit him in the fortress of meropide (for whatever reason…let’s just hope it’s nothing TOO bad ahaha…. ._.)

your sentence would depend on how long it takes for you to fall for him too. god he’s never realised how much of an absolute loser he can be when enamoured it actually makes him angry. if you could see the way he low-key giggles and plays with his hair at even the slightest glimpse of you, he’s assured your sentence would be several years instead of his hopeful couple months (unless you’re already in love with him then…hey.)

i’m pretty certain if he could, he’d send you a letter that says “haha, what if we kissed? just kidding! unless…”

yeah, he’s THAT level of loser for you. (*´∀｀*)

NAVIA — 娜维娅

valentine’s day has become her favourite holiday! not for any “particular” reason…certainly not because she can use the day to “platonically” spoil you with food and subtle affection whenever she pleases.

“happy valentine’s day! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡” navia smiles at you and bows, presenting you a pink bag glittered in hearts, a cute bow on of one of the handles. you smiled in response and took the bag from her gently. merely catching a sneaky peek into it you could see several little plastic bags filled with goodies and sweets, ones you assumed where baked by her fine hands.

“thank you, navia! honestly, i look forward to this every year~ (∩❛ڡ❛∩)” you laugh as you unwrap one of the brownies in the bag and begin chewing on it with a complaisant and satisfied expression. your sweet and genuine look made her heart clench in her chest, she coughs into her hand awkwardly and looks away from your lips.

“uhum, i’m glad! anyways i’ve got uhh…something to do…(｡>\\<)” she replied hastily, clutching at her chest dramatically as she left, leaving you rather confused: you continued to eat her pastries regardless of the sudden change in atmosphere, because i mean who doesn’t like free shit made specifically for you?

navia’s mind and heart felt so fuzzy as she checked her complexion in her pocket sized mirror, padding at her face with powder to futilely hide her immense blush. putting away her mirror, she flipped over her hat to reveal a matching pink letter with cursive writing on it. “sorry lyney your plan was cute and all…but i seriously can’t do this today…”

CLORINDE — 克洛琳德

harbouring her position as the best champion duelist means there’s plenty of people (people who desire death at the hands of a pretty woman.) who wish to duel or spar against her purely to see her skills personally. yet, so far there’s been no one who’s stepped up to that challenge (we can ignore tartaglia for now.)

until you, that is. you have no reason to ask to spar with her, and while she has little reason to refuse you, she does reject your requests each time. however, clorinde has learnt over time that refusing your cute face and sweet smile leaves a little bit of her hollow, so alas, one day when she had a free schedule — she accepted a spar session.

thank the hydro archon that she did because holy shit. clorinde never thought she had a type, perhaps just someone who’s the opposite of her to balance her out, but now she definitely knows you qualify. the way the sweat drips down your arms and neck, your expression fixed yet amused and the subtle vein forming on your hand as you grip your weapon…shit she’s not paying attention.

as you strike a blow that leaves her tumbling backwards onto the floor, a cheeky grin adorns your face that makes her heart skip like pebbles on a flowing river. you can boast about your win against the champion duelist for all of teyvat to hear, all she cares about is seeing that side of you again…please.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ah well shit.

this isn’t going to exactly work now, will it? technically, falling in love with a subordinate isn’t against some sort of law or code, but a harbinger being bewitched is a different story.

arlecchino leaned against her desk with her hands resting behind her. an icy shiver ran down your spine as her eyes were practically piercing through you. did you mess up on a report or something…? was this the end…(,,>ࡇ<,,)? you’ve always thought you kept a pretty good and quite close relationship with the knave, but perhaps that was your downfall?

it’s not easy to ignore the deafening sound of her heartbeat, that alone made it even more difficult to concentrate when you’re just an arms reach away from her in her private study, with no one to bother you two. it’s futile to ignore the fluttering of your heart, therefore, arlecchino decides to saunter over to you with a poker face, something which only made you want to die on the spot.

she leaned over on your desk with her hands right on the edge, you instinctively peel your head upwards to question her with a meek voice, “is uhm, something wrong, knave?” you begged she didn’t notice the slight quiver in your voice.

“i believe,” she averts her gaze before staring directly at you with a much more softened expression, “i’ve fallen in love with you.”

I KNEW IT INSTANTLY, YOU’RE ALSO GUILTY…

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost <3

[hiraethwrote]

loner megumi x popular reader masterlist cw: f!reader, aged up characters, college au, fluff, slight alcohol mention, no use of y/n word count: 1k

There was an unspoken rule in your relationship — passenger princess gets to choose the music. It just so happened that you were the princess 90% of the time. You were more than capable of driving, you just preferred being able to lay your head back, scroll your phone meaninglessly and sing blissfully along to the music.

And though you never said it out loud, you also just preferred your own music — you and Megumi had vastly different preferences in what you listened to. It wasn’t that he had bad taste in music or anything, but his playlist just did not align with the vibes you wanted when on the road.

It mostly consisted of obscure artists who had less than 100 000 monthly listeners or some indie band that you always thought fit best for simply chilling on late summer evenings… Weezer for example, which was someone Megumi had introduced you to.

So while your upbeat music bounced within the car, you subtly glanced over at him to see if there was any frustration resting on his features. If he was fed up with your music, then he did a terrific job of hiding it.

But once every blue moon, Yuji managed to force convince Megumi to join him for a few drinks — with a little help from you, of course.

“Go have fun, babe, and I’ll pick you up when they’re heading out.” He gave you a sad look, hoping for sympathy while he played with your fingers. After a few moments of deliberation, his head slowly started to nod, though he wasn’t too excited about it. He would rather just stay in with you, but you thought it did him good to hang out with someone who wasn’t you.

Three hours later, you were stood outside Yuji’s dormitory complex, watching as Megumi hurried out of the building with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Once inside the car, he instantly leaned towards you to receive the mandatory kiss whenever you reunited.

“Have fun?” You asked, slowly backing out of the driveway while he pulled out his phone to connect it to the car stereo.

“‘S alright,” he sighed, attention locked on his phone.

“They were going out, right?”

“Yeah, they tried to convince me to ask you to drive.”

“Oh, I could have given them a ride-“

“No, you couldn’t,” he pouted. Turning to look at him, his face was still angled downwards, but the bright light from his phone screen revealed how his cheeks were slowly turning red. You only chucked, amused — but also flattered — of his shy possessiveness.

The music started to play, and your eyebrows narrowed in confusion when you recognised the melody. This wasn’t something from Megumi’s playlist… this was one of the songs you used to put on.

“I didn’t know you liked this song,” you smiled.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I like the lyrics.”

Despite being the driver, you got to indulge in your traditional performance, singing along to the words you knew so well. Your head fell back against the headrest, a small satisfied hum leaving you as the song came to an end.

However, the next song was also one you recognised. Your confused expression returned, turning to look at your boyfriend again, who was simply staring out the window, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

And when the fifth song in a row was one of yours, you had to ask “is this my playlist?”

“No.” Short, determined, no signs of a lie anywhere in his answer.

“These are songs I usually play.”

“So? It isn’t your playlist.”

The entirety of the drive back to his place was filled with songs you would usually play. Though they all seemed to fall within the calmer spectrum of your music, it was definitely still your music.

The car turned silent when you shut off the engine, looking over to see Megumi resting his head against the glass, steady breathing revealing he had fallen asleep. All the socialising mixed with the few drinks in his system, he was probably exhausted.

You reached over to wake him up, hand stopping right as you were about to touch his arm, when his unlocked phone caught your eye — Spotify on display to reveal the playlist titled ‘her songs I actually like’.

“Cheeky bastard,” you whispered to yourself, causing his eyes to slowly flutter open.

“Hmm?” He breathed quietly, rubbing his eyes before turning to meet your giddy face, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “What?” He mumbled in a tired voice.

“You’re a sap!” You teased.

His eyebrows pinched closer, trying to piece together what you were talking about. “Are we home?”

“Don’t change the topic, mister. You’re secretly a romantic!”

His attention flicked to his bright screen, seeing the playlist he had curated in your honour, a groan slipping out of him immediately. “You weren’t supposed to see.”

“Why? It’s cute!”

“Exactly, it’s gonna make you insufferable.”

It drew out an offended scoff from you as you shoved his arm. “Whatever, you’re the one who made me a playlist.”

“This is what I was talking about,” he groaned again, hurrying out of the car.

“Wait up,” you laughed, rushing out of the car, instantly tugging at his arm when you caught up with him. “I have a few questions about it.”

“I am sure you do.”

“So, how many songs are on it?”

“Quite a few.”

“That’s not a number.”

“A lot.”

“Are there songs of mine you hate?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Can you show me those?”

“If you really want me to.”

Well into the night, the two of you laid in his bed, talking about music. He told you which songs of yours he could not stand, causing you to laugh uncontrollably when he tried to hum the melody and failing terribly, seeing as he had not been bothered to learn the titles of the ones he hated.

Then he played you his favourites, and explained why — how you seemed to always enjoy those the most when singing along, cheeks strained because you were smiling so much.

And in return, you told him which of his songs you liked — which ones of his you found yourself tapping your foot along to, some of your opinions genuinely surprising him.

Eventually, you both fell asleep with the playlist on in the background.

tags (taglist is open)

@sad-darksoul ﾉ @nyahctrl ﾉ @ssetsuka ﾉ @aceakariii ﾉ @chxlexauriana

@ps-forgetmenot ﾉ @thejujvtsupost ﾉ @acowboykisser ﾉ @rixo-19

@aestheticallyvini ﾉ @iheartlinds ﾉ @rory-cakes ﾉ @tiffanyandrson

@madaqueue ﾉ @lemonnotade ﾉ @six-eyed-samurai ﾉ @gdamnackerman

@hiraethwa

a/n

surprise post. just a cute lil something <3 he is so casually cute, the small things yk

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[tadpolesonalgae]

Taken Care Of[*]

Rhysand x reader

Synopsis: Rhys puts a lot of himself into his citizens, in more ways than one, but sometimes he needs that care put back into him. And he knows exactly where to go when he’s been worn down to the bone. 

a/n: for the anon <3 who sent in the request for more rimming that I read at about 6 o’clock in the morning before the sun was even fully up

warnings: kind of sub Rhys?, Oral (m receiving), slight bdsm themes, shadows, rimming, implied overstimulation

word count: 1,912

———��——————————————————————————————————————————

He’s cold, tired, and feeling emptier than usual.

His skin is numb, fatigue that goes beyond physical depletion making his body feel heavier than normal, so cold and dark that even the twinkling lights of Rita’s do nothing to cheer his spirits, forcing himself to muster up a more pleasant demeanour before entering so as to not ruin the mood of the night. 

Violet eyes keenly scan the large interior, instantly locking on to the figure he’s searching for, her familiar silhouette catching his attention as he makes a beeline for where she’s sat. 

It’s not a relationship he knows how to name, despite the years he’s been familiar with her. At it’s foundation he supposes it’s relatively amicable, though he doesn’t feel he sees her enough to call her a friend. She’s someone he can go to, though, in times like these. She’s familiar—he supposes that’s the closest he’ll get to what it is, tonight. 

Besides, she’s noticed he’s here now, and from the gleam in her eyes, it’s clear she’s figured out what he would like, and a kernel of light seeps back into him. 

————

“I thought you might be visiting me sometime soon, Rhys,” you tease, arm linked with his own to keep warm on the way back to your home. “Do you have anything in mind for tonight, or can I have free reign?”

“Do whatever you like,” he replies quietly, and your smile broadens into a grin as you trace the lines of fatigue on his handsome face. 

“I’ll make sure you like it, too,” you reply, equally quiet, mischief gleaming in your eyes as you push up onto your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his jaw before unlocking your door. “Just leave it all to me tonight.” 

————

“I really don’t think I can do another one,” Rhys manages, his lids feeling so heavy he feels he might fall asleep if he doesn’t keep them open. But your lips are stretching into a grin, and he feels his body react accordingly, as if trained to recognise your presence. “We both know you can go for longer,” you reply, settling between his legs on the four-poster bed, hand gripping one of his ankles.

Rhys feels his cheeks warm as your lips graze over the joint, pressing a kiss to the inside of his calf, thumb swiping over his skin. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of this attention, this kind of worship. It’s usually him who’s kissing up the inside of a female’s legs, putting his pleasure into her body—not having it plied into him. 

It is nice, though. 

Taking a break from being the dominant one. 

He doesn’t realise his eyes have fallen shut, head tipped back into the full pillow to sink into the feeling of your lips gradually making their way up his leg until you’ve lightly nipped at the inside of his thigh, his eyes peeking open enough to glare at you. Your lips curve in reply, and that unfair heat again warms his cheeks, wanting to be more present so he can remember these feelings he so rarely allows himself. 

“Ready for another?” You ask, and even if he wasn’t watching you he would be able to hear the grin on your wicked mouth. Rhys groans, eyes sliding shut briefly, “do I get a choice?” Your laugh tingles down his spine, wrapping around him and he shivers. “Of course you do,” you smile, making your way further up his body until one hand is beside his ribs, the other beside his head. Violet wearily peeks open, and your fight against the urge to claim his mouth, to kiss and nip at his throat, pressing ticklish pecks to his shoulders and chest, to lick and flick over his nipples while letting your palm to splay across the lovely muscle of his stomach, fingers tracing every dip and curve. 

“Make your choice,” you murmur, doing nothing to hide the tentative hunger in your expression. “Direct me, or let yourself relax.” 

Rhys sighs, eyes sliding shut briefly before slowly running the calloused skin of his palms up over your arms, settling over the roundness of your shoulders. “I said I’d let you have free reign, didn’t I?” 

Your lips curve, eyes glinting with intensifying hunger. “Just checking you aren’t regretting your choice,” you whisper over his lips, before slanting your mouth against his own, letting him taste that faint flavour of release he’s left on your tongue. Rhys hums contentedly, the noise sounding rough and heavy in his throat. 

You pull away, slowly kissing down his neck, and chest, and stomach, fingertips gliding over the tops of his thighs before slipping beneath his knee, encouraging them to bend as your mouth lowers further. He’s hard enough his cock is laying flat against his stomach, and he sighs as you lick up the underside of him, suckling at a space just below his head, your breasts pressing fully between his legs, providing a lovely softness to grind against. 

“You’re wicked,” he mumbles quietly, eyes having fluttered shut when you trailed down his torso, content to let you do as you please while he lays back on your bed. He shivers when you laugh softly before taking him into your mouth, feeling the hot wetness of your lips, then your tongue as it swipes over his slit, fingers wrapping around his base, squeezing gently while you kiss all over him. “And that’s why you sought me out tonight,” you murmur, allowing spit to pool in your mouth, allowing it to spill from the tip of your tongue down onto him before taking him down your throat. Entirely. 

Slowly, teasingly, you pull back up, relishing in the arch of his back, the way his fingers have curled somewhat, head having fallen to one side. “Because I’m wicked,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, hot breath brushing against his cock, sensitive to air from the saliva coating him. 

“Move your legs wider,” you instruct, gently pushing either side of his inner thighs, guiding them a little further apart so you can settle more comfortably. 

“You know, Rhys,” you begin lowly, hand wrapping fully around his cock, lazily swiping your thumb over his head, smearing the small bead of moisture that had gathered there along his length. “If you like this so much, you should do it more often. Allow yourself to have it.” 

“I’m allowing myself to have it right now, aren’t I?” He replies, somewhat lazily, and your tongue flicks out over your lips. “And wouldn’t it be nice to have it more often?” You drawl, mouth pressing to the underside of his base, licking against him as your hand continues pumping him, slowly. Easing his pleasure out an ounce at a time. “You give so much of yourself to looking after your court…wouldn’t it be nice to let yourself accept this kind of attention more often?” 

“I do,” he counters, making your lips curve. 

“Don’t you get tired though, of always being the one attending to your partner? Being the one to go down on the other? Being the one doing the things to them?” You muse, nipping at his inner thigh, again guiding him further apart. “Isn’t it lovely to have someone wanting to do awful things to you, instead of the other way around?” You ask mirthfully, hunger running beneath your tone as you kiss lower down his thigh, closer between his legs. “Isn’t it nice being subject to someone else’s sexual pleasures? To be their satisfaction?”

“Do you expect my mind to be focused enough to reply right now?” He asks breathlessly, the question dragging from deep in his throat, sounding rough and gravelly. 

“I’m just saying I think you deserve someone who matches your hunger, Rhys, but for some reason you keep denying yourself that. Wouldn’t it be good to have someone love the way you love? To do the things to you, that you need to do to them?” 

“I have you, don’t I?” He groans, panting lightly from the grip you have on him, the pleasure you’re building up within his body. A wicked grin splits your lips, one he can feel as you graze them again over the base of his cock.

“Now you’re getting somewhere,” you murmur, spotting the darkness that’s begun to appear in your bed with you, creeping up and over his body. Twining tentatively over his forearms, his own magic instinctively knowing what he wants. 

Rhys’s hands curl into fists as you dip between his thighs, tongue flicking against that tight ring of muscle while your hand pumps his length, with him inhaling sharply as his eyes fly open, cock twitching with pleasure. His magic binds him and at first he blinks, wondering where it manifested from, wondering why it’s carefully holding him down, but his thoughts are liquefied into an arousing mess when you repeat the motion, pressing closer between his legs and he doesn’t have the time to bite down on the moan that drags from his chest. 

You’re pleased when you feel the High Lord sink back into your bed, allowing his shadowy magic to move as it pleases, further wrapping around his forearms and slinking up his calves, binding comfortably around them so you can work better. Shadows working with you to deliver pleasure to your High Lord.

Rhys’ throat rolls heavily as he tentatively settles into this new experience, panting raggedly as you keep up with that torturous pace, keeping your strokes firm but leisurely, tongue circling him in a way that has the pleasure building, precum drizzling from his tip as heat swarms his body. He can feel the sweat on his skin, can hear the rough edge to his breaths, the tight coil of his muscle as tension only builds without release. 

How many had you already put him through before this? Five? Six? He can’t think clearly enough to remember, but he can feel the sensitivity in his cock and knows it’s a lot. And knows that you’ll probably be putting him through more before the night is over, if you’ve only now introduced this new…facet, into your coupling. 

It doesn’t take long for him to fall into that writhing tempest of oceanic arousal, the overstimulation having his body tense as the waves crash through him, cock aching as he spills onto his stomach, some of it dripping down his length as your hand continues dragging it out, refusing to relent until the last drop of pleasure has emptied from him. 

“How long…how long have you been waiting to do that?” He manages to ask, still breathless, mind so hazy he’s struggling to remember words. Is this how he’s made so many other people feel?

You smile, and he exhales sharply as his cock twitches at the sultry curve of your wicked mouth. 

“A while,” you answer, beginning to prowl back up his body, lapping at the cum he’s spilled on himself as you go, dragging your tongue through the small pool of erotic liquid, practically able to drink it up from how much he released. The soft slurping sounds have him hardening again, arousal gathering despite how intense he felt the last orgasm was. 

“Did you like it?” You drawl, crawling up his body, knees pressing into the mattress either side his hips. 

Colour flushes his tan skin but he doesn’t avert his gaze. “Surprisingly much.” 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

[cjjohansson]

from across the room, to between the sheets.

natasha romanoff x reader. - for months you have been longing for her. tonight it finally changes. -

reader has a penis. fluff? SMUT! oblivious reader? who knows. i don't.

18+!!!!!

It first happened at a party Tony hosted. You thought it was innocent at first. The way she kept staring at you while she stood with her boyfriend's arm around her shoulders. But everytime she looked at you, you couldn't help but stare back. Your eyes continuously move slowly down her body, drinking her in. She has always been beautiful. Sexy even. And anyone who ever told you that THE Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, wasn't beautiful or sexy…were simply blind or idiots. 

You could talk about her for hours. Well at the start it was mainly about her body. But after that one party conversations flowed through you both. They came naturally. The connection instantly there as you spoke about everything and nothing at the same time. 

You both bonded over your traumatic childhoods at 3am when you were both plagued by nightmares. Which you always found amusing at how you both found each other even when you both lived at 2 different ends of the Avengers compound. 

You were a SHIELD agent and one of the best so to say. You weren't originally based there, you had only recently been moved a few weeks before the party.  

But it was like as soon as you both laid eyes on eachother you were both hooked. Like it was a secret connection that no one could know about. Her boyfriend was on the team. It would cause problems at work and it wasn't worth it. But she WAS worth it. 

The times she held you in her arms when you couldn't shake off a bad flashback after a nightmare. Her hand carding through your hair, her body pressed tightly against hers. You would be dead if her boyfriend had seen. 

You were friends. Good friends. But nobody knew. Nobody could ever know. She was technically your superior. SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND! 

Tony practically hosted parties every month. 

The same thing happening over and over. You would feel her eyes on your back and when you turned you were always met with her low smirk and longing eyes. But again he was always next to her. 

It happened for months, secret meet ups whenever one of you had a nightmare, your phone flashing up filling your dark room. A text from her. Always a simple text. ‘The garden.’ You would be out of bed in seconds. You had even gone as far to change the ringtone of her text, even when sleep filled you the sound of your phone recognising her text tone brought you straight out of sleep. 

It was difficult. Being friends with her was difficult, even though it felt like the easiest thing in the world. You started to think about her more often. She would plague your thoughts, the need to be next to her filled your bones. All you could think about was her, every second of every day she was in your head. There was no doubt that by this point you had fallen in love with her. She wasn't just beautiful or sexy. She was caring, strong minded, and intelligent. She was no longer just a body you could admire from far away. She was now a real human who your heart couldn't not fall for. It was stupid. 

God of course it was stupid. The whole time, from the moment you met her, she belonged to someone else. Her body laid with another. But your brain couldn't stop telling you maybe she liked you too. Why else would she seek comfort in another when she has someone already?

You always wanted to ask, but part of you also never wanted to know the truth. So you never asked. 

You thought a secret was better than nothing. So if that was the only way you could have her then that is how you would take it. 

But that all seemed to change when Tony hosted another party 8 months after you had first laid eyes on her. 

Your body shook in the elevator as you made your way to the party floor. The frill of finally seeing her again consumed you. You hadn't seen her for a week, she had been away on a mission and when she had come back you had them left for one too. You had only gotten home that morning. You couldn't wait to see her across the room, couldn't wait to see her smirk fill her face as your own eyes took her whole self in. 

You heard her before you saw her. Her infectious laugh had your head instantly turning to the bar where she stood with no other than Clint Barton. You knew he was her best friend. Maybe now after 8 months you could finally approach her in public but your whole body froze when you saw Bucky Barnes, her boyfriend, walk up behind her and throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her into a half hug. You turned in the other direction after that. But if you hadn’t maybe you would have seen the way she pushed him off of her and punched his shoulder calling him an idiot. 

You once again stood far away from her, but never once letting her out of your sight. You wondered if she could feel your eyes on her. And your question was answered when she turned away from the bar and her eyes instantly met yours. You had to hold the blush that threatened to creep up your throat over her finding you. But that wasn't what shocked you. What shocked you was her turning back to the bar and grabbing another beer, her feet moving her in your direction and before you knew it she stood in front of you. 

It was like you could feel everyone's eyes on you. People were definitely wondering why Natasha was approaching you of all people. Especially Bucky Barnes. 

“I missed you this week.” Natasha sheepishly muttered as she handed you the beer from her hand. Your blush came at full force then. “I missed you too.” You couldn't help but take a nervous sip of your drink as she chuckled at you. 

“Stop thinking about everyone staring at us.” Nat said louder this time, her eyes staring intensely into yours. “Well it is very hard to not think about it when your boyfriend looks like he wants to come over here and rip my head off.” You chuckle back at her taking another sip on your drink, but quickly shut yourself up when you notice her confused expression on her face. “And who is my boyfriend?” You choked on the drink in your mouth. Was she being serious? “Er? Bucky?” You reply, nerves filing your body once again. She laughed loudly at your reply, jokingly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. You had never felt so confused. “Bucky? My boyfriend. No, definitely not.” Okay, definitely confused.

“Wait, what? He isn’t your boyfriend?”

“Have I ever said he was?”

“Well no, I just, whenever we are at parties he always has his arm around you and whispers things in your ear…I just assumed…”

“Ohh you assumed? Well you’re very wrong.” Her smirk back on her face as she now takes a sip from her drink. Her eyes flutter over your face, then they lower, following your whole body as she takes in your suit. “You look really, really nice tonight.” Natasha’s voice turns husky as she takes a step closer towards you. Your body is heating up over just her voice, your head feeling dizzy at how perfect this woman is. You manage to swallow the breath you were holding and find the courage to reply, “And you Tasha, are looking as beautiful as ever.” Her cheeks flood red, she lowers her head in embarrassment, you already knew how much she hated being complimented. 

You feel your arm move before your brain can actually catch up, your arm hooks around her waist and pulls her closer. Part of you expected her to back away. But instead she willingly moves closer herself, her right hand coming up and laying on your chest. 

You can feel everyone's eyes on you even more than you did a moment ago. The movement is so intimate and vulnerable. And she, the big bad Black Widow, was letting it happen. You feel as she takes a breath, her head finally lifting. Her eyes meet yours. And it feels as though everyone who was staring is no longer in the room. It is just you and her. 

“I don't know if it is just liquid courage, and I promise I’m definitely not drunk but I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while…” Natasha breaths out, nerves filling her body, an action you feel is so rare from the woman in front of you. 

“You can tell me anything.” 

“I…I have liked you since the moment I laid eyes on you 8 months ago in this very room. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you…I just, I didn't want to lose whatever we had but I spoke to Clint and…”

“You spoke to Clint about me?” A teasing grin falls on your face, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy over her admission. “Is that all you have to say about what I just told you? Come on Y/n…I like you, and I like you a lot, like you consume…” Your hand touches her cheek first, your fingers play with some hair that has fallen onto her face. “Can you stop talking for 2 seconds and let me kiss you Tasha.” 

“Yes, yeah. I would very much like…” Your lips touch hers before she can finish her sentence. Your hand on her cheek holds her securely on your lips. Both of you move together, you move as one. Her hand curls around the edge of your suit jacket, pulling you impossibly closer to her. She can most likely feel your heart beating out of your chest as her tongue swipes against your lower lip begging for entrance and you want to allow it but the people in the room come back to your mind as well as your trousers tightening around you. You smile against her lips, her own curling up after yours as you both pull away from one another.

“I wish we could leave right now but people would definitely talk more about us than they are already going too.” She whispers between you both, her lips red and slightly swollen. 

“Yeah well they better not look down then.” You awkwardly murmur to her. Her eyes fly down and then back up again as your cheeks burn red again. “I don’t think I can stay here knowing you have a problem that I am very capable of sorting out.” Natasha huskily replies, her eyes darkening, she looks up at you through her eyelashes and you swear you feel yourself get even harder. You groan in annoyance. Your head leaning down to press into her forehead. “You're killing me right now red…” Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Her head then moves so she can whisper in your ear, “Please, lets just leave…” She practically begs. You nod your head, your body winning over. She turns in your arms. Her ass pressing into you and you have to swallow the moan that comes over you. Your beers are long forgotten on the table you were standing next to. Your heavy arms are now around her waist and you bring her even closer to you. You both walk through the room attached to one another. People stare and all Natasha can do is chuckle at their faces. 

As soon as the elevator doors close, she turns in your arms. Her body once again leaning against yours as she chases your lips. A whimper leaves her mouth as you grip her ass and press her into you, your lips finally meeting hers. Her hand moves down to grip you through your trousers, a moan leaving your mouth at the sudden action. You manage to move your leg between her legs, her body shuddering as you take a hold of her hips. You grind her hips hard into you, her body shaking as she feels your muscles through your trousers. Your own body shudders when you feel how wet she is. 

“Fuckk, baby…” she moans as you start to move her faster against you, her body tensing up, your instinct telling you she is already close to cumming has you moving one of your hand to your trousers and opening them, your trousers becoming painfully tight over the sinful sounds falling from her. Natasha moves her lips down your neck, she bites and sucks all over your neck until you are moaning loudly, her face pulling into a smirk when she realises she has found one of your spots. She chuckles lowly against you but gets cut off as you pull her down even harder onto your leg, her hips moving faster as she suddenly cums. Her body tenses and her head falls against your shoulder. Her breathing fast, while she slows her grinding and then comes to a stop. 

Her hand instantly moves to your boxers but before she can touch you the doors to the elevator open and she is pulling you along to her bed room. 

You're not given the chance to even acknowledge her room as she pushes you up against the wall and her lips are instantly latched back onto yours. Her hand now successfully wraps around your hardened length as she jerks you teasingly. Your hands come up to her back, fingers finding the zip of her dress and pulling it down. She removes herself from you and steps out of her dress, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you take note of her bare body. It somehow makes you feel hotter knowing she was wearing nothing underneath her dress. You kick off your own shoes, pull down your own trousers and boxers, kicking them off somewhere in the room as Natasha starts to undo your shirt buttons. But they seem to annoy her as she chooses to rip your shirt instead. 

The showing of her strength has your breathing deepen. She looks up at you innocently, moving to leave a kiss on your lips, you go to chase them but stop when you notice her lowering herself onto the floor. Your eyes follow hers and take note on how she keeps eye contact while she teasingly licks the tip of your dick, your hips buck, impatience filling you, she notices the change in your face, desperation overtaking you and she finally wraps her lips around you. She takes you slowly, her head bobbing up and down until her nose finally touches your stomach. You try to stop yourself from thrusting but the sound of her gagging has you gripping the back on her head and start to fuck her mouth. 

You groan at the muffled sounds coming from her, your abs tightening as you pull her on and off of yourself. “Gon cum if you keep doing that baby girl.” Natasha’s eyes go hazy at your words, her body falling into submission as you bring her back to your tip. “You wanna make me cum?” Your cocky tone turns her on as she nods her head with you in her mouth, she brings one of her hands up to grip onto the base of your cock. Her hand and head falling into a rhythm. “Sh-shittt, gonna, I’m gonna cum.” You husk out, you half expect her to pull away but are met with her eyes connecting to yours once again and her head moving faster, you instantly understand, your hand pulling her hair into a ponytail, and fucking her mouth again, both of your groans fill the room and your body flinches as you finally release your cum into her mouth. She keeps sucking you dry as your body slumps against the door. She eases off of you slowly, getting back up to her feet. Her face comes into view and you feel yourself start to get hard again over the dopey expression on her face and the cum that is glistening on her lips. 

You don't stop yourself when you lean to kiss her, pulling her body closer to you once again. You never want to experience her body never being this close to you ever again. Her stomach presses against your already hard again dick and you pull her over to the bed. You sit comfortably against the headboard while she climbs onto your lap, leaving hot wet kisses over your neck as she grinds her hips over your dick. 

Your hands fall to her hips to lift her up, her hand flies down and moves your head to her opening. You slowly lower her, letting her get used to your size before you even attempt to move. "Fuckkk, baby you're so big." She breathes into your mouth as she starts to move her hips up and down at a slow pace. 

Your brain instantly falls into how you want the rest of this night to go. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah.." You reply as you slowly flip her over, with yourself still inside of her. "Fuck detka..." Natasha pants as you grind into her steadily. The russian falling from her lips turning you on even more. Her face contorts as you hit the perfect spot inside of her, her legs coming to move around your waist holding you tight, her hands falling tightly onto your back as she digs her nails into you.

"Fucking me so good..." Natasha breathlessly moans into the room, her body moving to meet your thrusts halfway. She grinds her hips into yours, her hands stretching down your back, mostly likely leaving blood in their movements, her mouth falling open in a silent moan as you pull out to the tip and slam back into her. 

You pull her hands from your back, not letting up your thrusting as you lay her hands above her head, your hands grip onto hers as you thrust even harder into her, you watch as your hands drain with colour with how tight she is holding you, “Wanna hear you scream for me, baby girl. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You pant out into her ear, her head nods as she moans sinfully. You repeat your action from earlier, you pull out so only the tip is still in her and roughly fill her up again, her moans getting even louder. You don't stop that action, loving the way her eyes close and pornagraphic moans leave her as you fill her up. You fill her up fast, your head moaning down to rest on her shoulder as you groan against her hot skin. Her head flies back at your rough thrusting. 

The whole room feels hot, her skin against yours feels hot. Your deep panting mixing with her moans.

You feel yourself coming closer to the edge, but you want her to cum with you. Your hands release hers and one moves to support yourself on the headboard, her hands moving back to grip your back, your other hand snakes between your bodies reaching her clit. "FUCK, Y/N! Don't stop, don't stop!" Natasha finally screams so loud you fear people at the party will hear her but you don't stop, your dick continues to move inside of her at a fast pace, your thumb speeding up the circles on her clit.

"Want you to cum inside, together." She says before she moves her lips between your neck and collarbone, her teeth biting into the area, she instantly tightens around you, her walls squeezing you to the point you have to change to deeper short thrusts. Your body is on hyperdrive at the thought of painting her walls with your cum. “You feel so fucking good, shittt. I’m gonna cum” Natasha moans.

"Okay baby, okay....cum- cum for me" You stutter out as you feel her gush around you, her cum hitting your stomach as you pull back more, your body tensing as you release inside of her, her body shaking as feels you cum inside. Your thumb slows down along with your hips, silently not wanting this to end. You look down not wanting to miss the way both of your cums mix together and squirt out between your thrusts.

Your moments eventually stop, her hands coming up to play with your hair, your body collapsing onto hers. Your body keeps shuddering as you feel her clench and unclench around you. Your dick already starting to get hard again. She brings your face out of her neck and kisses you slowly. It soon moves to passion as your hips slowly start to move inside of her again. Already wanting to take her all over again. She is like a drug, and you already know you're addicted.

“Fuckk baby, you're perfect, you're mine okay? You're mine…” You moan possessively against her lips, her own lips pulling into a smirk as she whispers back into your lips, “I was yours from the moment we laid eyes on each other.”

[seuonji]

彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan

part 1 ๑ part 2 ๑ part 3

notes ๑ daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?

genre ๑ fluff, new interest.

warnings ๑ none

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

it was a hectic but fun shift at your daycare job. the kids love you and you equally got along with them. your coworkers reasoned that it was because of your youthfulness that made working with them a breeze and you couldn’t disagree.

there was just 5 kids left and it was nearing the hour that would mean you’re working overtime but you didn’t mind.

the kids played with the toys around the room but you had just tidied up the place so they made sure to not make too much of a mess.

just as you were about to settle down on the floor, the doorbell rang signalling a parent was there. you instantly got up and chuckled at the way you didn’t even get to touch the floor.

you took a look to the glass entrance door to see who was there and usually you’d be able to recognise the parent/guardian but you have never seen this person ever. you looked over the kids in the room and back to the door. “i’ll be back okay, stay here,” you instructed to the kids who gave a sweet nod.

at the entrance stood a tall, lanky man. you couldn’t tell what his age could be but if you had to guess, he was probably your age or a bit older. he had hair that framed his face well and he was definitely someone that could brag about his looks. his appearance made your heart flutter.

often when you couldn’t recognise someone, you’d fear that this was a complete stranger, could be be those kidnappers but you didn’t get those vibes from him. or was it the pretty privilege?

you pressed the button which unlocked the door and he stepped in, “hi, i’m here for choi yuna,” he kindly spoke and shot a smile that could kill.

despite the looks that could sway you, you were hesitant. yuna was choi seungcheol’s daughter. you knew seungcheol was a busy man. he ran a big company but he never failed to pick up his daughter. plus he dropped her off in the morning and didn’t mention someone else would be picking her up which made this suspicious.

“im sorry, i need to know if you’re allowed to pick her up, how do you know her?”

“sorry! forgot to introduce myself, i’m yoon jeonghan, seungcheol’s secretary, he would've came but his meeting ran long so he sent me to pick yuna up.”

you were still unsure, you weren’t gonna take any chances for a case to happen, “can i make a call to seungcheol first?”

jeonghan let out a husky laugh, “you’re careful huh? what if i just showed you a picture of me and him together?"

“that won’t be enough.”

“alright but if you’re gonna call him, he’s could still be in his meeting i think your call will just be transferred.”

you already had your eyes on your phone but gave him a look as he said that. you still made the call and it instantly connected. “yn? is everything okay?“ the man on the other line opened with concern in his voice.

“hi mr.choi! yea, i just wanted to confirm that you sent someone else to pick up yuna?”

“ah- yes, im so sorry i just got out my meeting if i was the one to come yuna would still be there so i sent jeonghan. don’t worry, he’s a trusted friend! sorry for not letting you know.”

“no worries, just wanted to make sure,” you quietly sighed with relief. you said goodbye and ended the call. you stared at your screen and there was a loud silence for like 2 seconds until you closed your phone and lowered your head to the secretary, “sorry for making a hassle.”

he gave a sympathetic smile and waved his hands, pushing you back up, “no, don’t be! you’re just doing your job, it’s good your keeping these children as safe as you can. i’m glad you’re being this careful, if anything, if you weren’t so cautious i probably would’ve told seungcheol to find a new daycare.”

he was surprisingly nice.

“thanks,” you couldn’t hold back your grin. “um, i’m going to go get yuna.”

he nodded and you walked to the fence which led to the section of the room to the kids were in. jeonghan peered over and his eyebrows instantly rose. he didn’t know there were still children there. he got shocked that the kids weren’t checking if their parents were there. they were just sitting in a circle, playing and sharing the toys. usually they would be hoping the parents are here right? why weren’t they checking?

but jeonghan saw the way their face lit as you walked towards them. perhaps the environment was that good he thought to himself.

you held yuna’s hand and walked to the exit.

“i don’t want to go yet yn!” yuna clamoured. you softly laughed, “you’ll come back tomorrow.”

jeonghan silently watched you in confusion. were you an angel or something? kids love it when their parents are here, if anything, they cry at the absence of their parents right? yet someone like yuna who’s close their parents is clinging onto you.

“yuna!” jeonghan called out.

“uncle?” yuna beamed and ran to the older man, her height allowing her to only hug his legs.

jeonghan bent down and patted her head, “dad can’t make it so i’m here but we’ll see him in a bit okay?”

yuna nodded signing she understood. “did you bring your bicycle?” she asked with wonder in her eyes.

“bicycle?” jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows.

“the one you always come to my house with!” yuna hinted.

the man was left puzzled but also mildly embarrassed at the possibility that you’s think he uses a bicycle to get to places, “yuna, what bicycle?”

“the loud bicycle!”

“a motorcycle?” you chipped in.

“ahh—,” he did have a motorcycle. he was stunned and wondered what you thought of him— but actually, why does he care what you think.

jeonghan recollected himself, “your dad wouldn’t let me but hey, the car waiting for us outside has a tv!”

yuna was notably convinced the car was better especially with the way she hopped and cheered. you giggled at the way he changed her opinion so easily.

jeonghan stood up and held yuna’s belongings, “guess we’re good to go, say thank you to yn yuna.”yuna jumped to give you a hug and jeonghan waved a goodbye. soon, the two walked out.

you closed the door and deeply exhaled. you placed your hand over your chest yet your heartbeat couldn’t slow down. there was something about that man.

jeonghan looked back at the daycare’s door. he thought of the way his heart beated twice more than usual since he walked through that door.

was it you or the 5 sugars he put in his coffee that afternoon?

he shook his head and laughed after recalling the measures you went through to make sure he wasn’t a kidnapper or something.

“do you like yn yuna?” jeonghan turned to her. “why?” yuna dragged her words at the end. jeonghan inhaled stiffly forgetting about how yuna was in her ‘why’ phase. “just asking, so do you enjoy yn’s company?”

“of course! they're really nice! they always play with me and one time they bought me stickers!" jeoghan knew which stickers yuna was talking about. it was pasted somewhere in seungcheol's office and jeonghan made fun of him for it. his heart warmed at the way you seemed to be a genuinely good person. he’s known you for a few seconds but though your actions first impression, he could tell you were someone worth meeting and he liked people like that.

he really couldn't tell why but for some reason, he wanted to be the one to pick up yuna tomorrow.

luckily for him, he’s the secretary and he can manipulate his boss’s’ schedule however he’d like to.