#those last few seconds of calm is having one last moment with them before they rise to where he can't reach them)

[melit0n]

3:35 to 4:10 in Levitate is so unbelievably comforting to me. In the best (and worst) way possible, it truly does feel like levitation.

The best way I can describe it is laying in someone's arms, lover, friend, foe or family, and simply basking in the comfort they give you. One arm wrapped, gently, around your middle, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your clothes, and the other hand softly combing through your hair as they whisper soft nothings in your ear. You're on the brink of sleep; half listening to their words and half being drawn in by the comfort of the drowsy void.

It's a warm hug that you never want to leave. (catch me replaying that part over and over)

[littlelightfish]

Holm nation... I have a heartbreaking announcement to make.

We didn't get to see this panels animated.

(I wanted to see Laios helping him, this one isn't the one this post is all about)

I feel it's important to his character enough that Kui decided to dedicate three panels about how he aproaches and resurrects Kabru.

He is used to resurrecting people, his party sucks at keeping themselves alive. He walks up to Kabru's corpse with a worried look on his face. Then he kneels besides him and takes a second to process what he is seeing. He is seeing a young man, Kabru, dead. It makes him feel unseasy, a bit of shock that he can't take the luxury of process at the moment. He doesn't want to look, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his spell. He is realizing he is the only one alive from his party (he doesn't know where Mick is or how he is). He is the last one standing. The reality of it all slaps him in the face.

The panel of him just... looking at the mess Kabru's corpse is was just... It was important. It talked about him as a character. "I'm not doing this because I want to, but because I have to". He doesn't has time for emotions. He has a job to do.

It's just three panels. But they provide lots of context between the ones that came before and after.

He doesn't just rubs Kabru's head because he's being afective. He does it because he cares. He does it out of relief. "As long as I'm here, any of you'll be dying soon. And I'll always be here. Don't worry." He is far from being OK after all this. Marillier died, Daya died, Kuro died, Kabru died, Rin died, Mick probably died too (but he doesn't saw it). He... By the time he was the only one standing, the fight was over, and he could alredy resurrect them. He wants to feel sad. To worry, to be concerned, to mourn. But he can't. It isn't necessary.

He is a cleric. He for sure has a notion of dead way different than anyone and feels a certain way about resurrection. "Dying is dying, even if you resurrect." It's a bug at the corner of his mind, he doesn't pay it any attention. He gets resurrected multiple times, he is gratefull he is alive. But seeing all his friends dead? And the most of them mutilated? Covered in their own blood? He has this desire to mourn. To cry the loss. To panic. "They are all dead."

He knows they'll come back. He has to make them come back. So he does. And they are alive. But they weren't a few seconds ago. And he just plays it off, he puts his calm face on as soon as there is another party member alive that could ask him what happened that it disturbed him so much. He throws all those sad feelings under the rug and focuses at the task at hand.

They're going to be ok, he just has to do his job: bring them back from death. They shouldn't even be dead. But they are. And he's going to fix it. No point on feeling sad about them dying if they can be alive soon!

I think the concern that the anime puts here it's something that could come close to what he feels inside. Those seconds are the only ones we see him looking something akin to worried for his friends.

But then...

His worry vanishes in seconds. The moment Kabru revives, he does it in such a "Kabru" way, that he tells himself: "This is fine, they're going to be back soon, nothing to worry about, I just have to hurry". He wants them all back to live. We know for sure that in his priority list there wasn't any "reviving Toshiro's party members first". He was going to make sure all his party, all his friends, were alive before even thinking of resurrecting other people if he still had the magic.

Those three panels they didn't animate are something that was there for a reason. To give depth to Holm. This last episode is definitely the one in wich he shines the most. He isn't the main character at all this episode, but he does the most important stuff on the background. He revives them all. This all lack of something if you don't show what Kuy drew on those panels.

Here he just... goes to work. He says: "lemme handle it" and he does. No concern, no worry, no, nothing. He just does. No thoughts.

It makes me sad. Those panels were important. :(

[nyxs2]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 1/?)

Silco was at his limit. The last few days had been a whirlwind, made worse by Jinx's eccentricities, which Sevika couldn't control. He was exhausted, his nerves on edge, so, as if it were the most obvious solution, one of his subordinates suggested that he relax… in a brothel. The idea was so offensive that Silco almost killed him right there. But in the end, there he was and unfortunately or fortunately you are the lucky one who will serve him.

Silco x fem!Reader Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI) Word Count: 4,9K Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, oral sex (m!receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, discussion (a few lines), you work in the brothel, Silco POV (when to start smut because the male POV It just hits ✨different✨), an obsessive Silco in the end? Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

I got into my obsessive phase with this man again thanks to the second season of Arcane and I had to turn a conversation with a janitor bot into a fanfic. This is my first time posting something here so I have no idea what I'm doing lol… English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes.

The room reeked of overly sweet flowers, a cloying mixture of perfumes that you never found pleasant but managed to endure. Dressed in a simple white satin gown, which men liked to dismissively call "easy access," you stood behind the curtain, taking deep breaths and trying to hide the trembling in your hands. This wasn’t your first time dealing with difficult clients at the brothel, but this time, it felt different.

Silco.

His name alone was enough to make your breath hitch, and not in a good way. The feared, self-proclaimed leader of Zaun was seated on the couch, his arms draped casually over the backrest while his eye—or rather, his good eye—surveyed the room with evident impatience. You could tell he was irritated, perhaps even more so than the rumors had suggested when he arrived at the brothel. The deep lines on his face seemed sharper under the dim lighting, and he ran his tongue over his lips, muttering something you couldn’t catch.

You knew there was no choice. Refusal would bring consequences far worse than simply losing money. So you swallowed your fear, lifted your chin, and stepped through the curtain with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your steps were steady, but your heart waged a frenzied battle against your ribcage.

He didn’t seem impressed at first glance, but you could feel his gaze weighing on you as you moved closer. Each step shrank the safety distance between you. Your body moved almost instinctively from there, guided by the muscle memory of your unconventional profession. Carefully, you leaned down, letting yourself settle into his lap. Curiously, Silco showed no visible signs of discomfort, but he didn’t seem particularly engaged either, which only heightened your anxiety.

You assumed he would take the initiative, steering things more directly as clients often did here. The small talk, the courtesies—they always seemed unnecessary in a place like this. Your hands hesitated as they reached his shoulders, finding them rigid at first, but he appeared to relax slightly, sinking back into the sofa with a heavy sigh. It took you another moment to finally find your voice.

“You seem... stressed.”

“Those men aggravate me.” he muttered in response, his voice heavy with frustration, as if exhaustion had seeped into his very soul at that moment.

You nodded as though you understood perfectly. Of course, you didn’t, but you knew how to agree with powerful men without questioning them. Despite the fear that churned within you, you noticed something: he had let you touch him. A rare allowance for someone as reserved and commanding as Silco. The realization was strange, but it made you move your hands more carefully, wanting to prolong his apparent calm.

Silco’s mismatched eyes—one blue, the other orange—scrutinized you with an intensity that made you feel as though he was truly seeing you for the first time. He tilted his head slightly and asked, his tone more curious than cold:

“You haven’t told me your name.”

“Call me whatever you wish,” you replied sweetly, your voice melodious, though only you knew how forced every word felt. Your fingers, braver than your spirit, began tracing subtle lines across his chest, feeling the expensive fabric of his clothing and the warmth of his body beneath it.

“I’m aware of that, but I’d still like to know your name.”

After a moment’s hesitation, you gave him your name. Silco repeated it, testing the syllables on his tongue. Hearing your name spoken by him unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite place—it was strange how easily it rolled off his lips, as though it meant nothing, and at the same time many things. You weren’t sure if he was genuinely interested or if it was just conversational habit, but the fact that he asked stirred something within you.

“It suits you.” he said. From the subtle curl of his lips, you knew he’d noticed your nervousness. “Indulge my curiosity. What brings a woman as beautiful as you to a place like this? Surely, you have dreams that extend beyond satisfying the desires of others.”

Before you could think of a response, Silco's fingers moved to your face, brushing aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen over your shoulder. The touch was slow and soft—almost too intimate for someone like him. The warmth of his fingertips against your skin sent a shiver coursing through your body. Your instinct was to pull away, but you didn’t dare.

Swallowing your hesitation, you leaned slightly into his hand, like a cat seeking affection. Your posture remained controlled, the smile on your lips unwavering.

“Me? Well, I’m like any child of Zaun... I had to find a way to survive, so let’s skip the tragic parts of the story.” Your fingers began to toy with the fabric of Silco’s suit, admiring the quality of the material. It was the kind of fabric you’d never dreamed of owning, let alone touching. “I got lucky with my looks because, honestly, having sex and earning money beats living on the streets.”

You forced a smile as you said the words, trying to project confidence, though the very idea of finding yourself here still felt unreal. What you truly wanted to say was something entirely different: that you hadn’t had a choice. But that part, you kept to yourself.

“Besides, if I hadn’t chosen this path, I would never have had the chance to be here with you.”

It was an empty, contrived line, but you assumed it was what he wanted to hear. That had always been your role—making others feel desired, as though being in their presence was a privilege for you. Deep down, the bitterness of the lie gnawed at you, but you’d long since mastered the art of hiding it.

Silco’s touch, still unexpectedly gentle, lingered on your face, tracing the curve of your jawline with a calmness that seemed to contradict the dangerous aura surrounding him. Every nerve in your body was on high alert as he stayed silent, simply observing you, his fingers mapping your features. You couldn’t ignore the satisfaction he seemed to draw from your hesitation, as though your nervousness was precisely what he wanted to extract.

“I can see why the men of Zaun would pay handsomely for your... company,” Silco murmured, his voice low and deliberate as his fingers trailed down to your lips. “Still, surely you could have found another path. Something that didn’t involve selling yourself to the highest bidder.”

The disapproval in his tone struck like an invisible slap. You blinked, startled, unable to hide the brief flicker of disbelief on your face. Him? The chemical baron who ruled Zaun, questioning your morality? He, who built his fortune by exploiting desperation and chaos through Shimmer? It was almost laughable, but the weight of his words left no room for humor.

“Tell me the truth,” he continued, his voice slow, each word laced with a faint, mocking edge. “Is this what you want? Spending your nights warming the beds of strangers, smiling as they use you for their pleasure?”

Your fingers, which had been toying with the fabric of his suit, returned to your own body, creating the barest sliver of distance between you—though it felt impossible to achieve while still perched on his lap. You briefly considered keeping up the act, retreating to the mask of seduction and sweetness. But something about his tone, the intensity in the look he gave you, made it clear he wouldn’t accept a rehearsed answer.

"You’re hardly in a position to lecture anyone about morality, you know that?" Your voice was steadier now, stripped of the syrupy tones you had wielded before. There was still caution, but also something resembling either confidence or sheer madness. You weren’t entirely sure what was fueling you. "But the truth is, you don’t have much choice when you attract too much attention. Men have this pathetic need to turn anything they desire into property. If I weren’t here, I’d probably be some baron’s plaything... or any other man’s who thought he had that right."

You caught the slight shift in his expression, but you didn’t stop before he could interrupt.

"At least in the brothel, I have a small sense of safety. Here, we protect each other. It’s not ideal, but it’s enough to survive." Your words dripped with a cynicism you wore like armor, but they were genuine. Silco remained silent. "Satisfied?"

His touch grew firmer then, his hand gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. Silco didn’t settle for easy answers, and that kept you on edge. His mismatched eyes bore into yours, as if he could rip the truth from behind your façade by force. For a moment, your body betrayed your mind, trembling under the weight of his focus—or perhaps under the heat radiating from him.

"No," he said softly, his voice laced with an undeniable authority. "I’m not satisfied."

There was something in his tone that both soothed and terrified you. "I recognize value when I see it, and you’re not just a pretty face or a warm body to be used and discarded. You’re a survivor, my dear. And survivors don’t settle for scraps when they could have the entire feast."

Silco leaned closer, his face now so near that you could feel his breath ghosting over your skin. The hand that had been holding your chin slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer. He was invading your space, breaking every boundary you had tried to set before. It should have made you furious, and yet, there was something maddeningly magnetic about his words, his tone. Like a moth drawn to the flame.

"And what if I told you." he murmured, his voice dropping into a husky whisper near your ear, "That I could offer you another path? A way out of this gilded cage you’ve trapped yourself in? All you have to do is say yes."

It was tempting—far too tempting. But you knew better. This was a trap, a carefully spun illusion of power designed to lure you in. Silco wasn’t just a chem-baron; he was a master manipulator, someone who played people like pieces on a chessboard. His hands were stained with blood, and you weren’t going to become one of his victims.

Your shoulders tensed, and your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing lightly as though instinctively trying to create space between you.

"You’re right about one thing," you whispered back, your voice low but carrying a newfound confidence even you didn’t quite recognize. "I’m a survivor, precisely because I don’t trust men like you."

Your nails dug into his shoulders—not to hurt him, but as a way to anchor yourself, to remind yourself that you still had some semblance of control. To keep yourself from faltering under the weight of his presence. After all, few dared to deny Silco, knowing full well he could take whatever he wanted in the end.

"It’d be foolish of me to say ‘yes’ so easily..." you continued, taking a measured breath to steel yourself. "Everyone in Zaun knows that accepting one of your offers is the same as selling your soul to the devil."

Silco's movement, leaning back slightly to return a fraction of space to you, wasn’t a concession—it was a strategy. He was calculating his next move, and you knew it. His gaze remained fixed on you, and despite his apparent calm, you could feel the weight of his stare—heavy, like a verdict. He didn’t like being challenged, especially by someone who, theoretically, had no power to oppose him. Yet, there was something about you, something that even Silco found himself impressed by, if only for a fleeting moment. He seemed to respect your defiance—admiration disguised as frustration, perhaps.

"You're bold, aren’t you?" Silco spoke, almost amused. "Most girls would jump at the chance to be under my protection. But not you. No, you're far too clever for that."

His hand rose again, this time stopping at your throat, where his fingers rested, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat. It was a gentle touch, but undeniably threatening—a silent warning. And though the sensation was unsettling, it was nothing you hadn’t dealt with before. After all, if he truly wanted to kill you, he would have done so already.

"Allow me to clarify my proposal, dove," he continued, his voice softening in a way that only heightened your distrust. "I’m not offering salvation or a fairy tale ending. I’m offering you a chance to survive, on your own terms. To rise above the squalor and degradation of this place."

His touch shifted, his free hand sliding along your waist, tracing every contour of your body with an unsettling softness. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of your dress, and you knew he could feel the heat of yours just as well. Your body tensed, but you didn’t give in—not even as his hand ventured lower, stopping on your thigh. A shiver ran down your spine, but your mind remained resolute, knowing that any sign of weakness would be an invitation for him to push further.

His tone, now little more than a husky murmur, made the air around you feel heavier, charged with a tension you knew he wielded with mastery. "All I ask in return is your obedience."

His hand, now bolder, slipped beneath your dress, brushing against your bare skin with a touch that felt almost possessive.

You swallowed hard.

"Think carefully," he continued. "Is serving me really worse than being passed from hand to hand, always in danger of being killed like any other cheap whore? At least with me, you’d be valued. Protected."

The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of your breathing, a rhythm that seemed to amplify the rising tension. Silco held the advantage here—he knew it, and so did you. For all your cunning, there wasn’t much you could offer him beyond your defiance. But you weren’t one to yield without a fight. He might have been formidable in many ways, but all men, no matter how imposing, had a weakness. And you knew this weakness well enough.

"My obedience..." you said, your voice soft, dripping with sweet venom. "You already have it… for tonight."

You pressed your body against his, deliberately moving against the part of him he most desired yet had been neglecting. For the briefest of moments, you caught the crack in Silco’s stoic façade, a flicker of pleasure that betrayed him as your slow, deliberate movements sent a surge of heat to his core. Your hips rolled against him provocatively, the thin fabric of your dress bunched high enough to leave almost nothing to the imagination. The lace of your panties pressed against the unmistakable hardness growing beneath his trousers.

"Isn’t this what you came for, after all?" Your voice was a seductive whisper, yet tinged with irony, your tone laced with a hint of mockery. This wasn’t the submissive game you’d been playing earlier. Not anymore. Silco, with all his authority, likely hadn’t anticipated you flipping the cards the way you just had—appealing to something as raw as carnal desire.

You leaned in even closer, your lips brushing his ear, your warm breath sending a shiver through him. "Because I doubt you walked into this brothel looking to recruit a courtesan for your organization... am I wrong?"

Your words seemed to strike a nerve in the feared "Eye of Zaun," as he remained silent for a few moments, though you could feel the tension in his body. His grip on your flesh tightened, almost as if he was holding back. Then, the hand under your dress slid further upward, his fingers brushing against the lace trim of your panties. The touch sent an electric jolt through your veins; it was affecting you just as much as it was affecting him.

"You're playing a dangerous game, dove," Silco murmured, his voice low and laced with warning. "Tempting me with your body, even as you deny me with such effort. It's a risky move."

He leaned closer, just a breath of space separating your faces. "But I suppose that's what I like about you. You're not afraid to dance on the edge of the blade, even if it means getting cut."

Silco’s other hand slid along your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair before pulling gently, tilting your head back to expose the curve of your throat. You felt him inhale your scent, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips grazed your skin. "However, don’t mistake my desire for weakness. You may not like the result."

"I have no doubts about that," you quipped, increasing the rhythm of your hips, the friction doing a fine job of making you forget you were dealing with a dangerous criminal. You could feel your panties growing damp. "But that doesn’t matter now, does it?"

With difficulty, you moved your head to face him again, despite the way his hand still gripped your hair. Your own hands wandered across his slender frame, sliding down toward his trousers.

"You’re paying to have me, not to talk." With practiced ease, you unfastened his trousers, your hand slipping past the barriers of his clothing, finally touching him. A gentle stroke, testing… "So let’s make your money’s worth."

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━ Silco's Pov

Silco's breath caught in his throat as her hand slid inside his pants, her fingers brushing his hardened length. The sensation was electric, sending sparks of pleasure racing down his spine. He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of his underwear, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to buck his hips against her touch. But even as his body responded to her ministrations, Silco's mind remained sharp and alert. He knew she was trying to gain the upper hand, to turn the tables on him by focusing their encounter on base carnal desires. And while he was more than willing to indulge in such pleasures, he refused to let her think she had won. But, he would recognize her cleverness.

With one swift movement, Silco grabbed her wrist, halting her exploration of his cock. He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "Ah ah ah, not so fast, dove," he purred, his voice low and dangerous. "You forget who holds the power here. I'm the one paying for your services, and I'll be damned if I'll let you set the pace."

Silco released her wrist and sat back, his eyes raking over her body with undisguised hunger. "Strip," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I want to see every inch of that gorgeous skin. And then, if you're a good girl, I might let you touch me again."

As she began to comply, Silco allowed his gauze to drift down to the junction between her thighs. He could see the damp spot on her panties, evidence of her arousal, and it made his cock throb with need. But he held himself in check, determined to make her work for her pleasure, even if it becomes an unbearable temptation for both of them.

Once she was fully exposed, Silco reached out and ran his fingers along the edge of her undergarments, teasing her with the promise of his touch. "Now, show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll give you what you really want."

Oddly enough, that stubborn woman obeyed him without question, living up to what she had said about him having her obedience. The sight of her kneeling naked was sinful, even more so when her curious fingers made quick work of undoing his pants completely. Taking a moment to study his cock, and when Silco opened his mouth to let out a sarcastic comment she finally took him into her mouth.

Silco groaned as her tongue laved along his shaft, the wet heat of her mouth sending jolts of pleasure racing through his veins. He could feel his cock pulsing in her grip, the blood rushing to his groin as his arousal mounted. It took every ounce of his self-control not to simply grab her head and force her down onto his dick, to fuck her pretty face until he painted her throat with his seed.

But he resisted the urge, determined to savor every moment of this exquisite torment. She was skilled with her mouth, he had to give her that. She knew just how to tease and tantalize, to bring him to the brink of madness without pushing him over the edge.

Silco's hands fisted in her hair, his grip tight enough to be uncomfortable but not quite painful. He guided her head as she worked him over, showing her exactly how he liked it. Up and down she went, her lips stretched obscenely around his girth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock.

"Fuck, just like that," Silco sighed with pleasure. "Take it deeper, dove. Show me how badly you want it."

He could feel his balls tightening, his orgasm building at the base of his spine. But he held back, determined to make this last. He wanted to hear she beg for it, to watch her break apart on his cock like the desperate little slut she was.

Silco's hips rocked in time with her bobbing head, his pace increasing as his arousal grew. He could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his core, the pleasure bordering on pain. But still he held back, his iron self-control the only thing keeping him from exploding down her throat. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, Silco yanked she off his cock and hauled her up into his lap. He crashed his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste himself on her lips. His hands roamed her body, groping and squeezing, leaving marks of possession on her soft skin.

The kiss was confusing at first, perhaps because she probably didn't expect him to pull her in for a kiss. However, it didn't take long for her to give in, returning the same intensity. Of course, it would be foolish to think that her wandering hands would remain still since soon Silco could feel her gripping him and rubbing against herself. She had pulled her panties aside as she covered him with her wetness, as if her saliva wasn't enough. When the provocation seemed to last longer than it should, she lined up his tip with her entrance. That woman was going to kill him.

Silco groaned as she sank down onto his cock, her tight heat enveloping him like a vice. The sensation was exquisite, her walls fluttering and clenching around his length as she adjusted to his size. He could feel every inch of her, from the slick, velvety softness of her entrance to the tender spot deep inside that made her gasp and writhe.

His hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, his fingers digging into her flesh as he guided her movements. Up and down she rode him, her pace growing faster and more erratic as the pleasure built within her. Silco thrilled at the sight of her, head thrown back in ecstasy, breasts bouncing with each thrust of her hips. She was certainly a sight that would stay in his mind for a long time.

He leaned forward and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard as he rolled the other between his fingers. She cried out, her back arching as the dual stimulation sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through her body. Silco could feel her walls tightening around him, her body tensing as she neared her peak.

"That's it, dove," he growled against her skin, his voice rough with lust. "Come for me. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock."

Silco's hips snapped up to meet hers, driving his cock deeper, harder, faster. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, obscene and beautiful all at once. He could feel his own climax building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his core. But he held back, determined to bring her over the edge first.

He reached down between their bodies, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. The added stimulation was too much for her, and she came with a scream, her body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. And, as if possible, becoming even more beautiful.

Only then did Silco allow himself to let go, his own orgasm ripping through him like a tidal wave. He thrust up into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he exploded, his seed painting her insides with its heat. He could feel her milking him, her walls rippling and fluttering around his.

━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

You collapsed against Silco’s body, utterly spent, as if the world around you had vanished during those feverish minutes. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, and you desperately tried to catch the breath that seemed to have abandoned your lungs. Your body, slick with sweat, still trembled with the remnants of pleasure, involuntary aftershocks that left your overly sensitive skin prickling at the slightest touch. Every muscle felt too heavy to move, leaving you there, trapped between exhaustion and the slow return to reality.

The silence that followed was filled only with the sound of your uneven breathing mingling with his, punctuated by the muffled music, laughter, footsteps, and the occasional moans from other rooms. The brothel was alive, grounding you in where you were, even though the power play that culminated in this moment had momentarily made you forget.

"So..." You lifted your head slowly to meet his gaze, your voice husky and still thick with effort. "Did I please you?" You knew the question would sound like a provocation masked as submission, but you would regret letting the opportunity to tease him slip by so easily.

Silco remained silent for a beat, and then a low, rough chuckle escaped his lips. "Please me? That would be an understatement, dove." he replied, his voice still deep, almost purring. "You exceeded all my expectations."

As he spoke, you felt his fingers rise to your face, brushing aside a strand of hair stuck to your damp skin with a subtle touch. His heterochromatic eyes were locked onto yours, and the moment seemed to stretch on longer than it should have. A part of you wanted to pull away, but something about the intensity of his gaze kept you rooted in place.

His hands slid down your back, fingers tracing the subtle contours of your spine. The heat of his touch sent another shiver through you, your body still far too sensitive. He knew that, of course, and seemed to savor every small reaction he could elicit.

You thought he would push you away, that this moment would end quickly, but he didn’t. Instead, Silco’s lips met yours in a fleeting touch, so brief it could hardly be called a kiss. Then, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as if he were absorbing what had just transpired, what he had just done to you.

"But I’m not done with you yet." he whispered, his voice a dark warning, the echo of something dangerous. Something you should fear.

But you laughed in response.

"I was hoping you’d say that," you teased, slowly shifting your position on his lap, feeling your muscles protest against the movement.

The smirk playing on your lips was wicked as you took in the state of him. Though still clothed, his appearance was far from composed. His trousers, carelessly undone, were wrinkled and disheveled, while his previously immaculate hair was a tousled mess. And those eyes—still hazy, swimming in lust—watched you with an intensity that sent a thrill down your spine. He was chaos incarnate, and you felt absurdly proud of being the one to unravel him.

"However..." You slid off his lap with the same provocative grace that had carried you through the entire evening, your body still trembling faintly from the lingering sensations. "I believe you'll have to pay again if you want to see me next time... Our time is up." You felt his cum, as well as yours, slide down your thighs as you sank into the spot next to him on the couch, but you didn't really care about cleaning it up. The only shred of decency you had was fixing your panties. 

Even with nothing but your undergarments covering your skin, you made a point of turning this moment into something that would haunt Silco’s mind—a small finale, pure provocation.

Silco remained seated for a moment, his intense gaze never straying from you. There was something in his eyes—a possessive glint, almost feral. It was as though he wanted to say something, to act, but with an admirable display of restraint, he held back.

You watched as he reached into his pocket, retrieving a wad of bills. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed them onto the table in the corner.

"Consider that a bonus for your... exceptional service."

Rising from the couch, he began adjusting his clothes with mechanical precision. His nimble fingers fastened the zipper on his trousers and smoothed the creases in his suit. The final touch was the swift motion of his hands taming his disheveled hair, each strand returning to its rightful place. With every deliberate move, Silco reclaimed the aura of the man who commanded fear and respect across all of Zaun.

When he reached the exit of the room, he paused. He didn’t turn completely but tilted his head just enough for the warm orange glow of his eye to catch the dim light.

"I have a feeling we’ll see each other very soon, dove." Part2

[kajibunny]

you are my most favorite! ⋆⭒˚.⋆ w/ the wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji, hajime umemiya, jo togame, mitsuki kiryu ✿ contains: fluff, f!reader, established relationship ✿ a/n: this is quite near and dear to my heart! all of them have such unique personalities and interests, that i find myself reading their character profiles again and again hihi i hope you cuties like it~ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ ✿ wc: 1.7k

— your boyfriend definitely has his most beloved things and possessions, but his most favorite of them all? you, his favorite person.

ʚɞ sakura - 

you knew how much sakura loves omurice, and him sharing his food was definitely out of the question. however, he couldn’t resist how you lovingly stared at him while he ate the omurice you made for him like it was his last meal. 

“does it taste good, haru?” you asked, as he has not said a word since you handed over the special bento box you made for him. sakura nods, a small ‘hm’ escaping his mouth. you just love seeing him so happy and so full of life whenever food comes into the equation. 

“feed me too.” you murmured, pleading with puppy dog eyes. you hoped he'd catch on, sensing your wish to share a tender moment, just like those couples you’ve seen, sweetly feeding each other on their dates. 

sakura stops eating his omurice for a second, turning his attention to you and trying to absorb what you just said. “h-hah? you have hands, don’t you?” 

you pout and cross your arms at him. “it tastes better when it’s from you.” you put the spoon back in his hands, and open your mouth to say ‘ah’, waiting for him to give you a spoonful of his food.

he looks away with an evident blush on his cheeks. sakura found it difficult to say no to you, especially when you were being all cute like this. he scoops up some omurice with his spoon, and raises it up to your lips. “fine, but hurry up, it’s embarrassing…”

maybe sakura could make an exception and share his favorite food with his favorite person, after all.

ʚɞ kaji - 

kaji is generally quite protective of his things, his treasured headphones were a gift from the person he looks up to the most, his hoodie is among one of the few clothes he has in his closet, his lollipop was the only thing that kept him calm whenever he was close to throwing a fit of anger. 

that was until you came along and you became the thing he wanted to protect the most.

you and kaji were walking home together from your date, his headphones hanging around his neck the whole time, so he could listen to you talk. the night air was crisp, and kaji immediately noticed how chilly your hand was while he held it in his. he let go of your hand for a little while, much to your dismay.

“you’re cold, so stop whining.” kaji sighs, grabbing your hands and exhaling warm air on them, before taking off his hoodie and putting it on you, the softness of the fabric immediately making you feel warmer, making your cheeks heat up as well.

“thank you, ren.” you smiled, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek as you continued talking his ear off on the way home, fingers intertwined with his as you swayed them happily while walking. 

kaji couldn’t get enough of you like this - something in him just can’t resist how cute you look wearing his hoodie. maybe, he thought, this could be his new favorite thing.

as soon as the both of you arrived at your doorstep, you refused to let go of kaji’s hand. “i just want to be with you a little more, ren…” you said to him.

“we’ll see each other tomorrow. for now, here’s something for you to remember me by.” kaji pulls his lollipop out of his mouth, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he draws you in close, kissing you with so much want and need, making sure that he and the sweet taste of his lollipop flavored kisses are all you’ll ever think about for the whole entire night.

maybe, you thought, this could be your new favorite thing too.

ʚɞ umemiya - 

gardening is umemiya’s greatest passion, and when he found out you shared his love for it, he was over the moon. wanting to share something deeply personal, he decided to invite you to his most cherished place - his rooftop garden.

he takes your hand gently, leading you up the staircase until you two reach his garden. you were greeted by a breathtaking view of carefully arranged pots and planters, nurtured by umemiya’s own hands.

“wow, these are so pretty, haji!” you admire his plants with fascinated eyes, following him along into the plant beds where he kept his vegetables.

“these are my favorites!” he points at his lush and plump tomatoes, and he also shows you his other vegetables and sprouting seedlings. “they all have different needs, different personalities…they’re just like people, in a way.” he turns to you, with a look full of love and affection. you knew how much his little garden meant to him, as he always described it with such passion whenever he proudly showed you the images on his phone, updates here and there as well as his eyes sparkling with excitement while looking at them. 

kind of like the way he looks at you too.

“you know, you kind of remind me of this garden, sweet pea.” he smiles softly at you. 

“really, how so?” you tilt your head curiously.

he steps closer to you, as umemiya envelopes you in a soft embrace. “you make me want to take care of you, like i do with these plants.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head as you lean into him, feeling as cherished as the garden he so lovingly nurtured. 

ʚɞ togame - 

you’ve always been quite curious to try togame’s favorite drink, the one that’s always pressed to his lips - his beloved ramune. 

as you watched him, your eyes were locked onto the bottle in his hand, tracing every movement as he grasps it firmly, pressing down the plastic opener with his thumb, applying pressure to release the marble and all of the drink’s carbonation. he did all this with just one hand, the same hand that lifted the bottle to his lips for a sip.

you were too busy imagining those big, strong, calloused hands on you to realize that togame had started speaking.

“would you like a taste, angel?” he asks you, offering you the bottle of ramune. you were way too fixated on him and how attractive he is that you fumble slightly with your words. 

“a taste of you…r ramune, yes, of course!” you stammered, chuckling nervously as a blush crept up your cheeks, flustered by your own thoughts.

you didn’t miss the way he tried to cover up his smile by clearing his throat, handing you the drink, watching as you took a sip. “so? do you like it? or perhaps…” he trailed off, taking the ramune from your hands and setting it down on the table. 

“do you like this more?” in one smooth motion, he leans in close, his breath warm against your lips. togame’s mouth touches yours, a slow and gentle kiss that made your heart flutter, leaving a trace of his warmth on your lips even after he pulled away, his forehead resting gently against yours as you both smiled, breathless and content.

you had a feeling that togame wanted you more than he wanted the ramune.

ʚɞ suo -

suo’s love for tea is unmatched - he’s practically an expert who has a ritualistic passion for every step of the process. the only thing that can possibly surpass his love and devotion to tea? is his love and devotion to you.

he happily teaches you the art of perfectly steeping tea, but of course, knowing suo, he uses this as an excuse to get as close to you in proximity as he possibly can.

he hums contentedly as he embraces your form from behind, guiding your delicate hands as you grind the tea leaves, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers instructions.

yet his calm, soothing voice and the way he holds you makes it impossible to focus on anything other than the heat of his body and the intimate closeness you share. if anything, this proved to be more of a distraction than him being an effective teacher by any means.

who knew simply making tea could be this intimate?

“i can’t concentrate because of you, hayato.” you huff, feeling his body pressing against yours, trapping you against the kitchen counter.

he chuckles softly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “hm? i haven’t done anything.” he teases, his tone light but with a hint of mischief. “this is just what’s necessary if you want to make good tea.”

you can’t help but blush, your heart racing. “what’s necessary? you being clingy with me?”

suo’s arms tighten slightly around you, pulling you even closer.

“exactly. the best tea is supposed to be made with love.” he whispers, his voice low and velvety, leaving you wondering whether it’s the tea or suo behind you making your heart steep in warmth. 

ʚɞ kiryu - 

“aww, i have to log in again.” kiryu sighs, pouting at his phone screen while you two cuddled on his cat-shaped beanbag chair like you do every night. you glanced over at his phone, his favorite game blasting him with countless notifications, demanding his attention, just as the two of you were getting comfortable.

you sighed softly, opening your palm toward him. “hand it over.” you said, “i’ll do your daily login bonus for you.” it was best to get it out of the way quickly so you could get back to what really mattered - more cuddle time with your sweet boyfriend.

kiryu’s eyes lit up with gratitude as he handed you the phone. “really? thank you, princess! i love you~”

you paused, fingers hovering over the screen, heart skipping a beat at his words. “mitsuki… did you just say-”

“yep, i love you!” he repeated without hesitation, his eyes sparkling with sincerity.

a smile tugged at your lips, warmth spreading through your lightly flushed cheeks. “...i might have to do this for you every night, then. also, i love you too.” you cooed at him.

kiryu’s grin widened as he pulled you even closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “okay then, i might have to do this for you every night, too!” he declared, peppering your face with playful kisses.

“help, i won’t be able to log in for you if you do that!” your joyful giggles filling the room as kiryu continued his affectionate assault. his phone lay forgotten as the two of you continued to tumble into a fit of laughter, your smile being the biggest bonus he could ever achieve.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[pucksandpower]

Just Not Home

Lewis Hamilton x race engineer!Reader

Summary: and I can go anywhere I want … anywhere I want, just not home

The Bahrain sun hovers low over the paddock, stretching long shadows across the asphalt. It’s the first day of preseason testing, and everything feels like a half-forgotten memory — almost familiar, but not quite.

Lewis stands by the Ferrari garage, his arms crossed over the crimson of his new uniform. The Prancing Horse on his chest gleams under the fluorescent lights, a betrayal written in gold thread. He looks down at his phone, scrolling idly, but you know it’s an act. He’s waiting.

So are you.

The Mercedes garage hums around you with the buzz of drills and the low rumble of the cars firing up. It’s your world. It’s been your world for over a decade. But not his anymore. Not after last season.

And then you see him.

He looks up at just the right — or wrong — moment. His gaze locks with yours, and for a second, everything around you dissolves into static. There’s no garage, no engineers, no cars. Just you and him, separated by too many steps and too much history.

You hesitate, then force your feet to move, weaving through the pit lane toward him. He doesn’t look away.

“Didn’t think you’d come over,” Lewis says when you’re close enough to hear. His voice is steady, calm, but his eyes betray him. They’re searching your face like they haven’t seen it a thousand times before.

“Didn’t think you’d want me to,” you reply.

He exhales sharply, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “I always want you to.”

It’s too much, too soon. You look down, focusing on the grease smudges on your hands. “How’s it feel? Being in red.”

Lewis glances down at his suit as if he hasn’t already spent hours adjusting to the unfamiliar color. “Strange. Feels like wearing someone else’s skin.”

You nod, unsure of what to say. The silence stretches, heavy and awkward, until he breaks it.

“Do you hate me?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

“For leaving,” he clarifies. His tone is too casual, like he’s trying to keep it from hurting, but you know him too well. “Do you hate me for going to Ferrari?”

You laugh, short and humorless. “Hate you? No, Lewis. I don’t hate you. I just-” You pause, searching for the right words. “I don’t know what I feel. It’s complicated.”

“Complicated,” he repeats, rolling the word around like it tastes bitter. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

There’s another pause, filled with the distant roar of an engine.

“I miss you,” he says, quietly, like it’s a confession.

You look at him, really look at him. His jaw is tight, his shoulders tense, but his eyes — those damn eyes — are soft and full of something you can’t name.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say things like that. Not here. Not now.”

“Why not?” He steps closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. “Why can’t I say it? It’s true.”

“Because it doesn’t change anything!” Your voice rises, drawing the attention of a few passing mechanics. You lower it again, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re here, and I’m there, and that’s how it’s going to be.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” he says, his voice breaking just slightly on the last word. “You think I wanted this?”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I had to.”

The words hang between you, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

“Had to?” You echo, your tone sharp. “No one made you, Lewis. No one put a gun to your head.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit.”

He flinches, just barely, and you immediately regret the harshness. But you don’t take it back.

“You could’ve stayed,” you continue, your voice trembling now. “You could’ve stayed, and we-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “But you didn’t. You chose this. You chose them.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he’s going to walk away. But then he speaks, his voice low and raw.

“You think I wanted to leave the team? Leave you? I didn’t. But I don’t know. It’s like …” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere. Just not-”

“Home,” you finish for him, and the word tastes bitter.

His eyes snap to yours, and there’s something raw there, something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Just not home.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s too much, too honest, and you don’t know how to respond.

“Why are you telling me this now?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I need you to know.” He looks at you, his eyes pleading. “I need you to know that it wasn’t about leaving you. It was about finding ... I don’t know. Something I’ve been chasing my whole life. But it’s not here either. I thought it would be, but it’s not.”

“Lewis,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice cracks on the word. “I’m so sorry. For leaving. For not telling you sooner. For everything.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but it doesn’t help. His words are everywhere, wrapping around you like a net you can’t escape.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you admit.

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he replies. “I just ... I just wanted you to know.”

The silence between you is deafening, filled with all the things neither of you can say.

Finally, you look at him, really look at him, and for the first time, you see it. The weight he’s been carrying, the regret etched into every line of his face.

“I don’t hate you,” you say again, softer this time.

He nods, swallowing hard. “I know.”

And then, as if by some unspoken agreement, you both step back. The gap between you widens, filling with everything that could have been and never will be.

“Good luck this season,” you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest.

“You too,” he replies.

And just like that, it’s over. You turn and walk back to the Mercedes garage, each step heavier than the last. You don’t look back.

Neither does he.

[juniperskye]

That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

[catboyieejeno]

mark lee + domestic

♫ play love it by dean...

waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.

it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.

cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.

after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"

chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.

you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.

you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.

[frudoo]

Your new Baker!Simon AU has me hooked! 🤩😊 Retired!Ghost baking away in the comfort of his home, just needing something to improve his lil’ therapy-inspired business… someone like Food-Photographer!Reader ;) You gotta tell me how absolutely OVERBOARD he goes with the dessert(s) when they schedule their first meet up. Pleeeaaaseeee?

I’m obsessed!!! ^-^ Can’t wait to hear anything else you come up with, dear Writer! Thank you for being you 🫡

Much love, keep yourself happy ‘n’ healthy and get Simon some more dough (Get it? Money = dough? But also dough ‘cause he’s a baker? Hahah. Hah…)! <3

Changed it up a bit 😉

Previous

Warnings: Body image issues, mentions of therapy.

Simon is up to his elbows in baked goods. There’s no room on the kitchen island for the tray of espresso-flavored macarons he just prepared, so he has to set them on the coffee table in his living room. On the overcrowded counter is an array of cupcakes of various flavors—chocolate, cookie butter, ube (Kyle made him try the flavor when the 141 went to the Philippines for a trip and he fell absolutely in love), all arranged on separate platters that match their color. Each treat is decorated with perfect swirls of buttercream or topped with shiny luster dust.

He can’t remember the last time he’d baked so much. Maybe it was Price’s retirement party? Honestly, he doesn’t remember much of that night, but boy does he remember the morning after. Simon can recall how he got every single scar on his broad body, but not one of those painful experiences even scratches the surface of that fucking hangover. Nevertheless, it’s been a long, long time since he’s baked so many sweets. He didn’t even eat breakfast before he started working, and that was… six hours ago? Bloody hell, how is it already nearly time?

One look at the clock and Simon is scrambling to get dressed—jeans that hang low on his waist and a simple black tee. Both fabrics stretch around the muscles he’s maintained despite the growing layer of fat around his belly. He pats his torso as he looks at himself in the mirror, cleft lip scrunched up in distaste. Maybe he should lay off of all those “quality control” taste tests. He doesn’t have much time to think about it before his doorbell rings.

God, he doesn’t think he’s ever been so nervous in his life. Not through the amount of times he’s looked death right in the eye, not when his father would come clunking home absolutely hammered, not when he held Johnny’s hand to keep him awake and alert after Makarov shot him right in the temple. But you, this sweet, pretty girl who’s coming to see him—not even for a date!—has his fingers fidgeting and his heart racing in his chest. He sucks in a deep breath and counts to three, just like his therapist taught him, then opens the door.

Simon knows he’s in for it the moment he sees you look up at him in awe, trying to hide your shock with a crooked smile. Pretty round cheeks and a soft body—he’s doing his best not to look at the dip where your blouse exposes your cleavage—and plush lips that he’s dying to feel against his own. Fuck.

“I- uh… Simon? I-I’m here about the- um. My treats. Your treats! My camer- pictures! I’m here to take pictures of your… treats.”

The man can practically see the mental faceplant you just gave yourself, and for some reason, it calms his nerves. You’re human, and you’re real, and you’re beautiful. And you’re waiting for him to invite you in.

“Pleasure. C’mon in, jus’ mind the… er. The clutter.”

Simon opens the door wider and you thank him softly, gasping when you see the amount of goodies all over his kitchen and even overflowing into the living room. There must be at least a hundred cupcakes and a few dozen macarons. It stuns you for a second but his gentle hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. You clear your throat and smile up at him.

“You really went all out!” You giggle a bit and Simon’s heart just about leaps out of his chest—he shrugs.

“Ligh’ work,” he jokes.

You’re embarrassed by the snort that slips out of you, covering your mouth as your eyes go wide, but Simon thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to snap out of it. This is business. Simon runs a hand through his slightly overgrown hair sheepishly, gesturing towards the camera that hangs by a strap on your neck.

“Oh, r-right. Did you wanna be in the photos? Get you a nice new profile picture?” You ask with a grin, carefully slipping past him to examine his work more closely. “People typically like to know the face of the person they’re ordering from.”

Simon bites the inside of his cheek, debating. The military instilled such a strict rule in him. He never posts his face out of fear someone from his past will come knocking down his door to carry out a vendetta. He was thorough in his SAS days, never allowing himself to be caught without the infamous Ghost mask, but regardless, he deems it too much of a risk. He’s thankful you seem to understand his hesitation.

“We could do a picture of you holding up a tray so it’s just your chest and arms? I could crop your face out, or we don’t have to include you in it at all. It’s up to you.”

Too fucking sweet for your own good.

“Chest ‘n’ arms’ll be fine, love,” he grunts finally, offering you a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you look back to nod at him before grabbing the camera from around your neck. “Where do you wanna start?”

“Wha’ever’s easiest f’you,” Simon hums, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to watch as you twist and turn every confectionary to find the best angle.

You’re quiet when you’re focused. The only sounds he can hear are the shutters of the camera snapping a picture or your footsteps as you step around the counter to capture every little feature of the whimsical delicacies. It’s odd. Simon doesn’t mind quiet—prefers it most of the time—but he can’t help but crave the sound of your voice explaining to him every single thought going through your head. He blames it on curiosity.

It takes all of twenty minutes for you to get every picture you need of his confections, with varying angles and lighting changes. You walk over to him and go through the photos, explaining every little detail you loved or why you changed up the order of things for a particular shot. Simon nods in approval—he genuinely could not tell the difference between most of them, but like hell he’s going to tell you that, not when you’re this close, looking up at him with that sweet, hopeful smile.

“Looks perfect t’me,” he breathes, giving you a soft pat on the back.

“Thank you,” you sniffle. “So… did you still wanna do that profile picture?”

“I- er, tha’s fine. Where d’ya need me?”

“Right over… here!” You gently grab him by his bicep and pull him to where there’s a blank wall and a good amount of light.

Simon stands in place like a studious muse while you rearrange some of his treats on one of his circular platters. You place the tallest cupcakes near the back, the smaller ones in the middle, then position the macarons in a way that showcases both their shiny tops and the perfect bake he got on them. Cautiously, you grab the tray and take it over to him.

“Here, hold it just- yeah, just like that. Perfect.”

You bite your lip when you carefully maneuver his arms into a position where the light captures the depth of his faded tattoos and prickling veins—you convince yourself it’s to give the picture more personality. Simon’s just glad that his face won’t be visible. He’s praying right now that you don’t notice how fucking red he’s gotten just from your delicate touches and the way you stare at his arms and chest. It makes him feel insecure and as a result he sucks in his belly. His heart skips a beat when you frown.

“Don’t do that,” you whisper, hesitating before lightly placing your hand on his stomach to encourage him to relax. “Looks better like this.”

In less than ten words—far fewer than his therapist has spoken over the past few years, fewer than every single uplifting word he’s written in his journals—you’ve managed to silence the unrest in his head that tells him he’s not good enough, if only just for a few moments. His breath hitches in his throat as you step back to take a final picture. Satisfied, you take the platter from his hands and set it aside, giving him a shy grin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-”

“No, don’t apologize. I, uh… I needed tha’. Thank you,” his voice trails off as he looks down at you.

You nod shortly, sucking in a deep breath. He’s so close and it makes you dizzy.

“Right. I guess I’ll head out, and as soon as I get the pictures edited, I’ll send them to you?” You bite your lip and Simon has to resist the urge to lean in and take a nip for himself.

“Oh, please, take some o’this. I don’t know wha’ t’do w’all of it,” he scratches the back of his neck timidly.

Taking one last quick look around his house, you hum thoughtfully.

“I have an idea.”

[nottsangel]

hello !! what was ur dreaam !!

a drabble based on my mattheo and enzo dream cause it’s way more fun than just telling you guys about it :]

you aren’t quite sure how you ended up in this particular situation— you try to think back, but the last thing you recall is watching awfully bad horror movies with your two best friends while drinking a few beers. so how the fuck did you end up with each one of them on either side of you, their naked bodies pressed close against yours?

“i— i can’t fucking control myself much longer.” enzo groans breathlessly against the soft skin of your neck from behind, aggressively sucking dark hickeys into your skin. his strong hands are gripping your hips so tightly, as if to compose himself.

“you think i can?” mattheo growls from in front of you, gazing down at you with those pretty brown eyes that seem to have turned even darker now as they hungrily scan every inch of your naked body— his best friend’s naked body.

and fuck, you’re right there with them— you feel every ounce of self-control you had left gradually slipping away, with the undeniable ache between your legs only growing, your body practically trembling with desire.

but it shouldn’t be like this. you promised each other that nothing would ever happen between you— the friendship meant too much to risk. yet here you are, both their hands roaming eagerly over your naked body as you feel their painfully hard erections pressed against your ass and stomach.

“shit. you’re so… so fucking hot.” enzo whispers right into your ear from behind, his hands roughly squeezing your tits and his fingers toying with your sensitive nipples, causing you to let out a desperate, breathy gasp.

you feel the tip of his cock prodding insistently against your thighs, his slick precum warm and wet against your skin— but then his erection suddenly finds its way between them, the grip on your hips tightening even further as he lets out a throaty hiss of pleasure at the sensation, slowly thrusting his cock between your legs.

“enzo!” you call out, a mix of worry and uncertainty lacing your voice, your brows furrowed in concern.

“shhh, don’t stress, pretty girl. i’m not fucking you, am i?” he casually replies with a playful smirk, but his soothing tone instantly calms you down, because he’s right— he isn’t fucking you. this is… fine.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute when you get all stressed.” mattheo teases from before you, your attention instantly shifting back to him. your eyes lock with his as your hands find their way to his broad, muscular shoulders, steadying yourself against enzo’s sloppy thrusts, your mind clouded with both alcohol and desire. you feel enzo’s cock rubbing right against your soaked cunt, and fuck, it’s driving you absolutely insane.

mattheo’s wandering hand then moves down to your core, followed by his fingers slowly rubbing your sensitive, swollen clit, causing your eyes to flutter shut in pure ecstasy. your intoxicated state only heightens the pleasure, your legs trembling helplessly as enzo’s throbbing cock continues to move back and forth between them, your slick arousal dripping down all over it.

“does that feel good, baby? hmm?” mattheo taunts, his fingers pressing harder against the bundle of nerves, causing your nails to dig into the skin of his shoulders as you hum in response, desperately trying to hold yourself up. your hand slowly travels down mattheo’s body until it reaches his aching cock, and he lets out a soft groan the moment you wrap your fingers around it, pumping it faster and faster.

loud, pornographic moans fill the room, and with the pleasure between the three of you only building with each passing second, it’s clear that it’s not a matter of if someone will break, but who will break first…

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[fruithoughts]

  In this world there are a couple of absolute truths; the sun will explode someday, the water is wet, capitalism is a demon and of course, Yoon Jeonghan is madly in love with his best friend.

     CW: agegap(he’s 29 and she’s 23, they met when she was 19 and he was 25), bigdick!Jeonghan, fem!reader, friends to lovers, he’s so condescending but in the sweetest way?? what an asshole omg, one reference to him being a smoker, idiots in love, a lil bit of dom!jeonghan.

It's a classic, from the very first time they met, the bastard already knew he was going to end up in bed with the pretty girl with the coffee colored eyes, she retorted his unfunny jokes even when her red cheeks gave away that she was embarrassed, played along all of his little games just to give him hope that this time she had fallen into the hands of the big bad wolf, she was made just for him.

The special treatment Jeonghan provided her didn't sneak under anyone's noses, it was obvious, the only person other than himself that he allows to win during table games, just one look at him with that curious puppy face is enough to make him melt whole, he’s that weak. The only person he listens to when she tells him to stop cheating in games, that guy would give all of  the stars in the universe to his girl, would fix the ozone layer in 3 business days max if she complained about global warming today.

  "I could live like this" oh, that persisting little thought, always wandering in the man's head while he is around his friend, just waiting for the right moment to invade his frontal lobe and consequently force his heart into beating fast like crazy by making him think about the calm and happy life he could have alongside his love.

    The dreamer thinks and thinks while waiting for his girl to finish brushing her teeth, a silly smile stamped on his rascal face as he stares at the ceiling of her room, ironically, they were watching Friends in her bed, as always; against the will of his girl who insisted that the series was silly and he only liked it because he was old.

  As strange as it can sound, they had already slept in the same bed hundreds of times, most of those times due to Hannie’s habit of refusing not to take her with him everywhere he went, which more than often left them with only one hotel room to share, these nights were the most special, nothing sexual happened, which made them even more intimate.

The pointless conversations before bed, faces a few inches away as they discuss each and every scenario that his favorite girl proposes, "What name would you give your child? What if it was a girl?", "If the world ended and only the two of us were left, where would we go? Would you protect me?" She was always more touchy with him when she was tired, he loved every second of it. They cuddled until the princess fell asleep, her warm breath on his neck drove him wild, he wanted to fill her face with kisses, but he never had the courage, always waiting for the right time.

Now that once again he found himself in his friend's bed, just a month or so before his military service called for him, he wondered if he let the right time pass right by him at some point in the last 4 years, it was his biggest fear. What if the fact that he had hookups here and there over the years made her think he had no interest in her? What if the fact that he kept posting stories and photos with her made her come to the conclusion that he doesn't have romantic feelings for her because he wouldn't risk showing his possible future girlfriend to fans, and only posts things with her exactly because they’re completely platonic? 

With the date of the inevitable farewell between the lovebirds approaching, something had changed, Jeonghan couldn't quite figure out exactly what it was, but things were different. His girl always loved him(just not in the way he desired so much), he always knew that, she, who was always closed off with others; had no problem holding his hand under the blanket while watching movies or laying her head on his shoulder during car trips while Seungcheol screamed at Dokyeom because he took the wrong turn again, these moments felt like little secrets, his pretty flower laughing softly at the car fights while the bastard uses their proximity to draw invisible shapes of hearts and dicks on her bare thigh until he gets his hand slapped away when she inevitably realizes what he was drawing, in they’re little world in the back seat, no one would ever know.

Well, never? Maybe it was the wrong word, especially now that everything has changed. For some reason, his friend suddenly started offering him 3 times the attention he was used to receiving from her, holding his arm while waiting in line at the grocery store, hugging his waist and hiding her face behind his back while waiting for the uber, deliberately holding his hand as they strolled through some parking lot, suddenly her behavior made it obvious to anyone with eyes to see that they were in a romantic relationship, Jeonghan was in heaven.

He wanted to fantasize, to dream, to believe that this change was due to the fact that now that he's going away, she finally realized that she loves him, that she's always loved him and that they should be together, but part of him just can’t get over the possibility that she might have just gotten extra comfortable now that she realized he's going soon, and decided to give him all the attention in the world because she’ll miss his friend.

Things were not going according to plan and it made him nervous, restless... What was the plan? To confess as soon as he was discharged from military service, his group would be on a semi-hiatus for at least two more years after his return due to the younger ones serving, it was the perfect time to develop their relationship, he was sure they would get married early too, after all, for how long do you date after being extremely close for 4 whole years? He knows his princess like the back of his hand and she has him around her little finger, she knows everything, his whole life, all of his habits, allergies, fears and almost all his greatest desires. 

 — Stop thinking about other things while I'm here —  His girl's voice as she enters the room takes Jeonghan out of his train of thoughts, staring at her until she reaches the bed and crawls over to him to go cuddle again. 

— Am I only allowed to think about you? —  he asks, arching one of his eyebrows as soon as he has her in his arms, lying on top of him.  — When you're at my house, yes. —  She replies grumpily and Jeonghan laughs when he feels his torso being squeezed closer to her, draping one arm over his baby’s back, also squeezing her closer before depositing a little kiss on the top of her head, there's nothing this man wouldn't give to have this right here every day.

The conversation comes and goes as usual, they talk about life dramas and gossips from their respective groups of friends, some complaints about annoying and inconvenient people, just as inconvenient as...

— And that little guy you were hooking up with? Did you get tired of him already? — Jeonghan asks as if he hasn't spent the last two weeks brooding with jealousy, just the possibility of that idiot having touched his girl makes him want to rip off his own face with his bare hands. He’s not possessive at all, clearly.

  She huffs before replying — And that makeup artist you were clinging to? How is she? — the tone of the question tone made Jeonghan roll his eyes, he only had a little affair with that woman, a few kisses for a week and they slept together once, no big deal, and obviously it didn't mean anything to him, just like all his hookups never did. The man's distant behavior towards the people he fucked with was always a reason for a fights between them and most of the time it was the reason for the "breakup" of said hookup status, but why would he try to feel anything for any of his fuck buddies when his true love was just around the corner? He was just paving the way.

  — You know it was nothing, it never is — the man feels her little eyes burning through his face as he avoids meeting her vision, he knows where his answer will take him, he hates this part — And when will it start to be something? You're getting old, you know… —  she says teasing the possibility of her friend dying alone, he knows she's joking, but that's no comfort to how much it hurts not to have the courage to just hold her face and take what he spent the last 4 years wishing for so much, Jeonghan is patient, but people can hold on for only so long before snapping.

— And when are you going to start dating? Deceiving those little boys is not very nice on your part —  he received an indignant look from his friend, getting exactly where he wanted, the part where he takes control of the conversation back. It was no new's article that Jeonghan didn't really like anyone's face, the problems were always repeated in one way or another, "He's too young, he won't know how to treat you right.", "Look at the way he talks, I could bet five hundred dollars that this guy gets grossed out by the idea of eating pussy, he's just a little boy.", "Beautiful, look at the things this guy posts, he doesn't even know how to talk like a normal person and do you think he'll know how to fuck you?".

It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Jeonghan doesn't approve of the possibility of his dear and beloved friend being a guy the same age as her, they are immature and gangly, they don't know how to do it the same way he does, they don't have the time and money to be able to take care of her like he can.

The silence coming from his petal makes him worried immediately, if that son of a bitch hurt his love’s heart, he doesn't even know what he's capable of doing — What happened, bunny? — he knew she hated the nickname, he called her by it anyway to get her out of her own head, his princess always thought too much, and he, as her perfect match, knew exactly how to bring her back to the real world.

She sighed before shyly admitting — You were right… —  he felt a wave of satisfaction run through his entire body, he loved it when his theories about the girl's hookups ended up being accurate — What was Hannie right about, hm? Tell me. —  he received a slap on his arm and could tell just from her breathing that his pretty little thing was sulking like never before.

  — He didn't even know how to hold a conversation! He didn't talk about anything worthwhile, he didn't have anything to do with life, he was a bore! — she vented, obviously it was something that had been bothering her for a long time, and who wouldn't be bothered when it's impossible to find a nice guy? Nobody had an interesting back and forth, a way of talking that made her all soft, a way of being that was all unique and special, there was no one like that. There was no one like him.

Jeonghan saw life pass before his eyes, the hand that was on the girl's back unconsciously squeezed her waist a little harder, with his eyes still fixed on the ceiling, for a moment he really considered that he was finally going insane, would she ever notice? Was that what they were going to be for the rest of their lives?

Friends who run into each other's arms to receive the affection and love many couples out there can't dream of having for each other while complaining that they can't find the "right person"? Would she ever really find someone who matched her? Someone who isn't him? Someone who doesn't deserve his girl at all, someone who hasn't spent literal years learning all the little details and parts of her life and worked so hard to be the best friend she could ever have, someone who doesn't love her the same way he does, someone who won't know how to make her cum as good as she deserves, someone who… — Jeonghan? — like the devil, that sweet, sweet voice calls to him, and by this point, he's been starving for quite a while.

— I'd make you the happiest woman in the world if you’d let me —  the words lingered in the air for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, he felt his doll's heart start to act as if she had just run a marathon, the strong beats against his chest seemed to mimic the beating of his own heart, which she surely felt too. He didn't even realize when exactly he closed his eyes out of pure fear of having ruined everything, he also didn't dare to open them when he felt her moving around on top of him, when he thought he couldn't stand to stay there any longer without running. 

He felt the sweetest kiss this universe has ever dared create, immediately his hands went to his... friend’s? Face,  kissing her back fervently, Jeonghan could cry if he didn't have so much adrenaline in his body after confession, the position was already perfect, they were grabbing and pulling and rubbing on each other for so long, maybe twenty minutes? Maybe two hours? Four days? It was hard to discern silly things like the time when he finally had his girl exactly where he had always wanted her.

— I don't want you to go, Jeongie... —  she confessed breathlessly, holding onto collar of the baggy shirt the man wore as if he was going to disappear as soon as she let go, those shiny little eyes were capable of making him fight 9 wars, weed 5 batches, discover the cure for 13 diseases, achieve anything that could possibly make her stay with him forever.

— I know, I know, my love —  he laid her on the bed with all of the care in the world, only to then, like an addict, go back to enjoying his girl's delicious mouth while he tested the territory by caressing the soft skin of her waist and belly under her pajama top — Do you love Hannie? Do you not want him to leave? — Yoon Jeonghan was worse than any whore, he wants to hear that he wasn't the only one who’s obsessed, that he's not the only one who spent the last 4 years losing nights of sleep and wasting who knows how much bath water while thinking about his best friend.

He feels his princess's warm little hands begin to explore his torso, scratching his chest and waist, sinking her sharp nails into the skin of his shoulders and the sides of his abdomen so, so deliciously, if he was a little less patient he would have already given up doing things slowly — Wait for it, you'll how learn to be patient, bunny.  — Jeonghan commanded firmly when he felt his pants being pulled down little by little. His girl would be lying if she said she wasn't dying to give in, the bulge in his pants was more than enough to scare her off, but she knew her Hannie would never hurt her — You'll wait for me to fuck you when you’re ready to take it, without complaining, gonna be good to me. 

The prep was long, this man didn't rest until he made his little doll cum in his mouth, then with his long and precise fingers, then with the both, he paused between the three of them so he wouldn’t overwhelm his sweet girl, he did everything to make her as open up as much possible but it would still take time to be able to fuck hard when he entered her little heaven, he was at peace with it, in fact, he was already in paradise just by eating her out. 

The one who wasn't at peace was her, this asshole was too hot for his own good, if she had the strength she would have already ripped off this motherfucker's underwear with her own teeth, unfortunately no one tells you how hard it is to find the strength to be angry with someone after they just gave you the three best orgasms of your life.

  — You look so much happier, baby, just needed someone to treat you the way you like —  his lips and chin glittered with her honey, if they weren't so close, she would probably be ashamed to have gotten so wet, but he deserved it — It impresses me that you didn't suffocate down there, with those black lungs. They must look like two raisins —  she jokes while pulling him by the shirt to get on top of her again, wiping the sweet juice from his chin with her thumb, only to put it directly in her friend's mouth, who happily received the dirty act and sucked her thumb clean.

— I won't even tell you what I'm going to leave looking like a raisin if you don't drop the attitude — he joked right back before kissing her, drunk in love. That was it, everything he ever wanted, just him and his woman locked in the bedroom, smiling like two idiots while making each other feel good, this could last forever, but now he was the one who couldn't wait any longer, all it took was her looking up to him though her eyelashes, giving him the puppy eyes he fell in love with all those years ago, it was all it took for him decided he couldn't take it anymore — Take it off, I'm tired — he says while letting his hands fall to the sides as he knelt on the bed, in front of her, looking down to his pants basically saying "if you want it, then come and get it", this scoundrel is very lucky to have such a beautiful face, otherwise he would have been punched already. 

When the little game and fights were finally over and the time finally came, he entered very slowly, truly enjoying every second of his precious time and honestly, as much as it killed him to see his little princess in pain... Jesus Christ, that expression with her eyebrows tensed up and half-lidded eyes while her red mouth moans his name just so sweetly is a sight dangerous enough to kill anyone. The scene left him all vulnerable, his knees risked failing, his fingers lost strength, and in the end, Jeonghan was a weakling for his girl.

  Her little sounds were all he needed to start moving, extremely slowly, he needed to train her tight little hole to be fucked by a real man — Those little boys really did you wrong, hm? Doesn't feel like you’ve ever been fucked at all — he made a point of speaking as he watched the long drag of his cock into and out of his little angel, hypnotized.

— Shut up, Jeonghan — she said angrily, it was embarrassing to remember that she had been with other people when she could have spent all of this time getting eaten out this good instead. He replied  — “Jeonghan"? Where's Jeongie, Hannie? Do you want me to stop fucking you so you can tell me about this "Jeonghan" guy? — his suggestion was answered with a loud sound of dissatisfaction, and with the little strength she had below her torso, she hugged his waist with her legs to keep him inside.��

  Watching her desperation filled him with all kinds of feelings, just thinking about how good he could fuck her when his princess was used to his size, he could start drooling right there. He sneaks his face into her neck to start another attack, leaving purple and red marks all over his flower’s shoulder, the easing of his thick cock inside her was too good to be true, he couldn't keep his mouth shut — Mine, mine, mine. — he whispered and grunted at her ear lobe. 

Maybe that was just part of having sex with someone you know so well, but he even knew what the attempts of words she moaned meant, he knew she was fighting with him for deciding all on his own that she belonged to him, he knew his stubborn girl too well to not notice — Try disagreeing, go on — he tells her all whiny, imitating the tone of the moans of his now; girlfriend, according to his head — Tell me that you're not mine, that we belong to other people, that this pretty little pussy wasn't made just for me, go on, tell me — clearly the words affected her a lot, if her watery eyes tightening until they closed and her little hole threatening to expel him from being so tight were anything to be go by. He held her jaw tightly, forcing her to look at him. — If you're going to lie to me, lie to my fucking face.

She was going insane, he was doing it so, so well, but he was so slow… Even though a little bit pain was still present, fuck it! She was barely holding on from not trembling with desire, she wanted more, she wanted him — Stop treating me like I'm made out of glass, Jeongie! — she tried to sound bossy but the neediness refused to leave the girl’s voice, Jeonghan could have melted right there.

— And you’re not? What’s my doll made out of, then? — he grabbed one of his girl’s delicious thighs firmly,  leaving a hard slap that would definitely leave a mark, it burned like hell and the bastard didn't help at all, he just held the abused meat again  — What’s this, princess? Did it hurt? Are you gonna to cry?  — the condescension seemed to overflow from his mouth just like his girl's juices overflowed from her puffy hole and stained the fluffy bed sheet with each deep thrust, which now, very slowly as to not hurt her, were taking on a faster rhythm that made her head spin. 

Having thoughts that made sense was too much to ask of the poor thing who was getting the biggest cock beating of her life, she barely heard a word that came out of her beloved's mouth, she just stared at his lips, which used to be thin but were now full and red from the intensity of their love, she just wanted to kiss him again, she needed to be a good girl to kiss him again, did he say something? He said it, didn’t he? A... A question... What was it? "What’s this?" — It’s yours, Jeongie — she replied after using all her mental strength available at that moment, which wasn't much.

Jeonghan couldn't help but smile about how stupid he made his bunny — Mhm, it’s just mine, baby — he held her sweaty little face with gentleness that was completely alien if compared to the harshness of which his hips kissed hers. It was so deep, she felt so full, she never wanted it to end, it was too good, she wanted to cry with the fact that she couldn't hold it for much longer. 

— Do you not want me to stop after you finish, princess? —  he asked just so softly, finding it the most precious scene in the world when his flower frantically shook her head, going "No, no, no!", his cutest little thing — Don’t worry, doll, I’ll only stop when you’re dripping with cum.   

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝑊𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙.❝

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Law/Ace/Doffy: pol | Kid: ダイコン

Headcanons » Law ✧ Ace ✧ Kid ✧ Doflamingo Wordcount » 1873 Info » Fem reader, mature/kinky things but also fluffy and cute

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤

» When you read something to him: Usually you're with Law in his study, even when the two of you are doing separate things. He's mostly working on some plans or studying medical books while you're quietly reading a book on the sofa, simply enjoying each other's presence. Some days, however, you decide to read in the library. There is a big and cozy reading corner with lots of cushions and blankets, as it is always cold in the Polar Tang. The reason why you love reading there is because of the large bull's eye that reveals the secrets of the sea. Sometimes you sink into your thoughts and dream of the future as you gaze out into the blue, not even realizing how Law quietly sneaks under your blanket. Only when he takes you in his arms and presses you against him, you come back to yourself and drop your book. You talk briefly about the day so far, what you've done and then he lays his head on your lap. You brush his hair out of his face, he looks a little tired and has come to you to relax. You are his safe place, just as he is yours. You know immediately what to do and turn a few pages in another book.... "I assume we're having our little reading session again today, darling?" It's become like an unwritten rule for you, that when he lies down on your lap, you read to him and then take a nap together. Law looks at you with one eye open and grins, as you turn to the page where you left off last time. He likes the way you change your voice depending on what is happening in the story and after a while he is so relaxed that he falls asleep. When you hear his light snoring, you smile at him lovingly and put the bookmark on the current page before putting the book aside. You snuggle up to him and enjoy the peacefulness.

» Your fragrance: The perfume you wear and your own scent have a better effect on him than lavender and directly soothes his senses. You smell like home to him. When you are together with the others and you lean on his shoulder, he always tries to discreetly place a kiss on your head. Your hair always smells like fresh lemon, but rather light and refreshing. You don't like classy and expensive fragrances and prefer things to be natural and simple. Your scent is like aromatherapy for Law and that's a secret you'll never discover.

» Your hips: Law is pretty good at keeping his face under control, but when you're wearing a crop top and showing your hips, you can see the blush on his cheeks. He really has a fetish for your curves and your belly. He places a thousand kisses on your tender skin as he goes down further towards your private parts. His lips fly so softly over your skin that you can barely feel them. When he's on top of you he loves to grab you by the hips to pull you towards him. Skillful hands caress your sides, giving you goosebumps and making you arch your back because of all those tender touches. The squeezing sensation builds up in your lower middle and you literally beg him to release you. Law is someone who likes to try out lots of positions, preferably ones where he can grab you by the hips to guide you. While he is still on top of you, he pulls you towards him and turns so that he is now underneath you and you are sitting on his dick. You are visibly surprised by the sudden change of position and need a moment before you start riding him. However, Law doesn't give you a second, moves along your thigh to your hips and moves you up and down. The forthcoming penetration makes you see stars and after you both reach your peak, you let yourself fall exhausted onto his chest. He kisses your forehead tenderly and caresses your hips as you both calm your breathing.

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒

» The wrinkles around your eyes when you laugh: Your laugh alone makes him turn around as soon as he hears it, but the little wrinkles on your face are another level. He also shows no shame and stares into your face lovingly. Of course, you don't miss his stares and his answer to why he's staring at you so intensely was simple: "Your wrinkles are so adorable when you laugh.". He then had to convince you that he finds them charming, as you don't exactly find your wrinkles cute. In your eyes, they're more of a sign that you're ageing. His reaction afterwards was almost funny, because now it was him who was offended. In his eyes, the wrinkles only mean what a cheerful person you are.

» Your skin: Your skin is so soft and gives off a warmth that he doesn't even have, even though he's pure heat himself. lol. If the guy doesn't feel your skin on his, he feels like he's hypothermic. Nevertheless, he would never get on your nerves, he rather keeps it to himself how much he longs for your skin. That means he'll take every chance he gets to touch you. You're cooking? He will of course help you by hugging you from behind, putting his hand over yours and you two stir together :D He loves it when you sunbathe. Not only is it a nice sight for him to ogle you while you sizzle in the sun, it's also the perfect opportunity to touch you intimately in public. (Ace is definitely the type to have sex in public. Nicely on the beach while the sun goes down *-*) He definitely has a lot sunscreen in stock, even if he doesn't need it for himself, but it gives him one more reason to feel your skin without being intrusive. He applies the cream very thoroughly and definitely every 2 hours. At first you thought he was very sweet and attentive because you couldn't reach all the spots, then you realized that he just wanted a opportunity to grope you… But you won't say anything against it because you enjoy how thoroughly he massages the suncream into your skin.

𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑

» How you dance: No matter how full the pub is, his eyes are always on you and follow your rhythmical movements. His breathing slows down while your hips move seductively. You are a passionate woman but you dance just for yourself and simply enjoy the music as it moves through your body. Kid sometimes doesn't even notice when one of his crew members is talking to him… mostly it takes him a moment or two to react. He also finds it very satisfying to watch you reject other men. He feels proud. However, if someone touches you, he doesn't hesitate and intervenes aggressively. Just look and don't touch is the motto. You also like the way he gets angry and intervenes, so you happily snuggle up to him while you make a face at the other guy. Kid doesn't seem like it, but it takes a while before he forgives you for being such a hottie that other men keep coming crawling up to you. You enjoy it though, because it's almost cute how a tough guy like him pouts. However, he will forgive you... at the latest when you dance for him in your shared bedroom, in private ;)

» Your quick wit: Well, you do not only bark, you also bite. The Crew knows that and those who don't know you will find out soon enough! Kid never has to get involved when you're arguing with others. You're eloquent and if necessary you'll hit them! But don't worry, he's always keeping an eye on you and if you show him that you need his help, he won't hesitate and will happily take over the beating.

» Your relationship with his crew: Even if you are the captain's lover, it doesn't mean that you have automatically earned the respect of his crew... But it didn't take long for everyone to consider you one of them. For Heat, for example, you're like a little sister and you're probably the only one he's okay with when she cries (He hates crybabys, lol). The first person you really became friends with was Killer, and not just because Kid told him to look after you when he couldn't himself. It's actually because you both like spaghetti, while the others are already sick of it and you're an insane cook. The first time you cooked spaghetti, he liked it so much that he ate all the leftovers at night. This is especially important for Kid, because if his people don't love you, why should he?

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜

» Your appearance: Doflamingo is an obsessive narcissist. He may love you in his own twisted way but he always says he owns you. He proudly displays you by his side and that's why your looks are important. In Doffy's eyes, you wouldn't be his queen if you weren't the most beautiful woman in the world. People who disagree with him will lose their lives faster than they would like… Because how dare they think that a man like him doesn't have the most beautiful wife. Not because you are incredibly beautiful (which is definitely true) but because Donquixote Doflamingo will only have the most beautiful woman by his side. (Know the difference..)

» How you moan his name: Doffy loves to get the softest sounds out of you while he fucks you into madness. "Say my name, my angel." You look up at him hesitantly. You can't think straight as he hammers into you, his movements are vigorous but so skillful that it doesn't hurt. It just feels so good when his tip triggers your G spot. Since Doflamingo isn't even waiting for you, he casually wraps a hand around your slender neck, forcing you to keep your gaze upright. You feel so intimidated when you look into his eyes… When you are intimate with each other, you have the honor of looking into his eyes. His gaze burns itself into your brain and if you're honest, you feel powerless. When you finally let yourself be overtaken by all your feelings, you can't help but release them through your voice. You are incredibly turned on by the way his elegant hand slowly takes your breath away and you arch your back. "Oh Doffy…" With these two words, you let the last bit of air out of your lungs and let your head fall back. "Fufufufu… My beautiful angel, don't stop singing for me." You completely let go of your embarrassment and give yourself completely to him. Your sweet sounds have an electrifying effect on him, feelings are released in his body that he can't identify, he only knows that he won't leave you to anyone. Your voice belongs to him alone and he decides to let the whole castle hear how he ruins you.

Masterlist

Hope you like it, I'm off to the land of dreams, good night :3

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

[andillneverbethesame]

CASUAL

❥ draco malfoy x reader

❥ warnings; oral sex, implied vaginal sex, not reread — may contain gramatical mistakes

❥ word count; 2,3k

❥ a/n; ik i should be prob writing your ts requests but i've been listening to casual by chappel roan sm lately and got idea for this fic sorry for the second smut not being written. i realized how much i don't like writing it.

you and your dear friend daphne greengrass were seated in the slytherin's common room sofa, doing your potion's homework on the last minute.

"ugh, does snape hate us? this is an awful homework!" daphne complained with her head in her hands.

"i agree," you spoke. "this is taking forever. and i gotta meet draco in-" you checked your watch "-fifteen minutes."

daphne sighed, making you glance at her with a raised eyebrow.

"got a problem, greengrass?"

she stared at you, contemplaining on what she should say. "i think you're a loser that you're still hanging around and let him treat you like that."

daphne didn't like draco before this thing between you two even started, none of your friends did. but they hate him even more, knowing he's wiping the floor with you.

"you don't know how sweet he actually is," you tried to convince her. and a bit yourself, too.

"it's a facade."

in that moment, you could see from the corner of your eye two girls walking past you and eyeing you up and down.

"do you think it's serious between her and malfoy?" asked one the other.

"nah. nott said malfoy told him she's just a girl he bangs on his couch." answered the other.

you froze. this was so humiliating. you could only hope that those were just rumours and draco never said anything like that to theodore. you could ask nott, but you doubt he would tell you if he really heard him say that. him and draco were the best of friends.

you met daphne's look that clearly said, "i told you so."

"oh, fuck off!" you packed your things and left the common room.

draco said to meet him in the library, so that's where you were heading. on your way there, you tried your best to ignore the looks and the whispers of other people. it was a date night, after all. you were determined not to let your mood be ruind by silly things like that.

the library was quiet as always. you always thought draco asked to meet you there because it's such a calm, romantic place. plus, both you and draco loved reading so you'd spent your date time like that. however, daphne suggested a few weeks ago that the reason draco wanted to meet in the library, was the fact that there weren't much people in the evening hours, so no one would see you there. you could only hope that that wasn't the case.

you found him at his usual spot in the right back corner of the library.

but he was not alone.

he was seated at the table while pansy parkinson was sitting on the table with her legs crossed. you could see her fingers slightly lifting up her skirt, revealing her underwear. and the worst thing was: draco was looking. and by the way he smirked and licked his lips, he liked it.

rage filled your entire body but you decided to play it cool. you put on a smile and made your way over to them.

"hey, pansy," you said, still smiling brightly. "didn't expect to see you here. haven't you got a better thing to do than flirting with other girl's man?"

she rolled her eyes and got off the table. she send draco a wink and blew him a kiss before leaving.

you huffed and took a seat opposite to draco. he continued on reading his book, but as if he could feel the daggers you've been sending through his head, he lifted his gaze.

"what?" he asked, acting clueless.

"care to explain why it looked like if i didn't walk in you two would be shagging each other's brains out?"

"we wouldn't." you swore you could see his eyes crinkling. what a fucking liar. "why do you care anyway? are you jealous?"

"yeah, i am!" you admitted. "we are together. you have me. so why do you still cave other's girl attention so badly?"

he snorted. "we're not together."

you froze, feeling humiliated once again. this was so embarassing you wished you had the ability to melt into the ground. but you didn't. all you could do was stare at him for a few seconds before letting a faint "oh" leave your lips. you couldn't help it. tears started to form in the corners of your eyes.

draco saw that. "i'm sorry, baby. i told you no attachment." his arm reached over the table and placed it over yours.

"i know. you're right. i'm sorry," you apologized although you had nothing to apologize for.

draco stood up from his seat and kneeled in front of you. "it's okay, i forgive you. you're someone i couldn't lose." and then, his hands went to the sides of your face and his lips to yours. although, you were deep down still feeling angry. the feeling of his kiss made it vanish.

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

"oh merlin!"

you were in draco's limousine, your legs were over the boy's shoulders and his head was between your thighs. you gripped his blonde hair. he was truly a master at this. his tongue worked perfectly on you, eating you out as if he was starved and as if he never tasted anything better.

you were sure his fingers would leave a mark from the tight hold on your outer thighs. but you didn't mind. it would be there to remind you of the best head of your life.

his tongue flicked over your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body each time he touched that one spot that caused you to see heaven. your eyes were rolled to the back of your head as your nails dugged into the skin of his shoulders. you were close to the edge despite it being only five minutes.

your glassy eyes watched him. it was truly a wonderful sight that could alone make you come. and then, his icy blue eyes met yours. and that was all you needed to fall apart under his touch.

when you finally collected yourself and draco wiped his mouth with a napkin he pulled from the back pocket of his pants, you two sat in silence with your head on his shoulder and his arm around your body. this was one of the moments you refused to believe that draco believed it was casual. him kissing the top of your head, his fingers intertwined with yours, him smiling when you drew a heart on the limousine's foggy window-

"would you like to meet my mother?"

-him asking you to meet his mother-

wait. what?

your eyes went wide as you pulled away from his embrace. "what?"

he shrugged. "my mum wants to meet you."

you raised an eyebrow and smiled. "you told your mum about me?" that was surprising. i mean, sure, you told your mum about him too, but that was different. this meant everything to you while it meant very little to nothing to draco.

"no," he shook his head and your smile dropped. "i'd bet all my money it was zabini or nott."

"oh, right. well, if you'd like me to, i'd like to meet your mum."

"great," he nodded. "i think you'd like her. i'm not so sure about my dad but. . ." he didn't finish his sentence and you didn't ask kim, knbowing how the relationship between him and lucius was.

you were about to meet his parents. was it still casual?

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

you gasped at the sight of the malfoy manor. it was twice bigger than you expected. the gate opened and you two walked in to the property.

"how rich are you?" you asked him, still gaping.

"enough to never have to work for the rest of my life," he replied with a smirk.

"hm, i'd like that."

and then, your mind began on creating fantasies again. you were dumb. but you loved it. you dreamt of you and draco in a year, after you two graduate. you dreamt of living together and it didn't have to be in a manor large like this one. it could be in a room at three broomsticks. it didn't matter as long as you two were together. and then, maybe you two would be something. and he'd show you off to everyone.

you blushed at the thought. these fantasies are fatal.

draco opened the large door to the manor and you two walked in. for some reason, it was a bit colder than the outside air but you could imagine yourself spending time there.

"mother?" draco called out but there was no response. but then, an elf walked into the hallway and the boy asked him, "dobby, where are mother and father?"

"t-they are out, mr malfoy. they are taking care of some business," he replied, his voice shaking.

draco nodded, looking as if he knew what business the elf was talking about. he turned to you and said, "let's go. we'll wait in my room."

he took a hold of your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, making fireworks explode inside of you.

his room was quite small compared to the other rooms in the manor, but it was very cozy anyway. he had the dark walls covered with posters of his favourite quidditch team and also with pictures. you took your time walking around and exploring. there were countless of photographs with him and his friends, two or three with his mother (zero with his father) and one with. . .

you.

it was a photo of you two on one of slytherin's party, before you started hooking up, you were sitting on the common's room sofa with your arm around him and his hand on your knee. you already fancied him at this point. the look in your eyes as you gazed at him couldn't be missed.

you really did love him.

you turned around, still smiling. you found him sitting on his bed so you took the advantage and began to straddle him. his head hit the matress as his hands gripped your hips. your fingers found its way to his colar, untying his tie.

"what do you say to a little fun before dinner?"

-----

"draco!" female voice echoes through the manor. "we're home! you can come downstairs!"

you two spent the last fifteen minutes in his bed, in silence.

"well, we definitely can't come down looking like this." you both were still naked, not bothering to put on your clothes just yet. your hair were a mess and your lipstick was smudged from the endless making out.

you got up to find your clothes since they were scattered everywhere across the floor.

"have you seen my bra?" you asked draco after you found your panties. you saw him holding it, expecting to give it to you. but instead of that, he send you a wink, turned around and put it in one of his drawer.

a light laugh slip passed your lips. "you dick. that's my favourite one!"

"well," he shrugge, "it's mine now, sorry."

you rolled your eyes and slipped on your maroon dress. this one was a gift from draco for your birthday.

right after that, you grabbed your clutch and walked into the bathroom to fix your appearance.

"a question," you called out to draco.

"yeah?"

"what did you say to your mum?"

"what do you mean?"

"well," you paused to put on your lipstick. "what did you tell her about us and our relationship status?"

he leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms on his chest. "what would i tell her? i didn't tell her anything."

"oh. . . then what. . . are we?"

you heard him sigh. "y/n, why do you expect another answer? we're casual. i told you that at least a hundred times."

casual.

a perfect evening ruined by one fucking word.

you were so done with this.

"casual?" you repeated, turning around to face him. "i'm about to meet your fucking parents, draco. what the fuck do you mean that we're casual? do i mean nothing more to you than an occasional shag? why, draco, why?"

"i told you, i'm not ready for a relationship," he tried to reason.

"not ready for a relationship? you like ten girlfriends before me, how can you be not ready? at least tell the truth and say you don't want to be with me."

"oh merlin." he exhaled. "you know that's not true. why are you so bitter about it?"

"i'm meeting your parents," you repeated for the second time. "you take me out on dates, you buy me an expensive dress, you even talked about a future with me in it once but then you say it's casual and you wonder why i'm bitter?"

"but i told you countless times we're not together-"

"draco!" his mother's voice called again.

"we'll be there in a minute!" he yelled. his voice sounded a bit harsher than he intented it to be. "i tell you we're not together all the time and you always say it's fine. but i can tell it's obviously not. so why are you still hanging around?"

you nodded. "you know what? you're right. i tried hard to be the calm girl that holds her tongue and gives you space, but honestly? i'm not. and i'm exhausted of pretending to be in case you change your mind one day and tell me you wanna be with me." you began to pack your things.

"wait. don't." you stopped, hoping he'll say the right things. but the next words were a dissapointment. "what do i tell my parents?"

you shrugged. "say what you tell to your friends. it's casual. so there's really no point in meeting them." you walked past him with a sweet fake smile and before he could say anything, you were out of sight.

[hxltic]

i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.

The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.

He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?

Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.

Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.

Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.

“Holy- shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.

It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion (like embarrassment) you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.

He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.

Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.

You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.

“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.

“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”

He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”

Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.

“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”

Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway—not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open—and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.

While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.

“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.

“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”

Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”

“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.

“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”

“They probably already are.”

He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face; but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too.

Nothing compared to the sheer size of his legs, but still up there. They had to be the size of your head. By photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake when he takes the uniform off.

Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.

You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”

“Right… just like how all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”

Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with shame that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.

You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”

He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.

“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”

Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a declaration you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck—the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I- uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.

Of course, to add to the fucking humiliation, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.

“Is that all you read?”

You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”

He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”

Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.

“N-No,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.

“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”

To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.

This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.

You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses, but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.

“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”

Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”

You look him up and down. “So?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.

“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”

You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”

He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah—I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.

“Which part were you reading?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway—she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”

Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.

“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”

You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.

“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”

You finally halt at the words. He was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”

So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.

You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and lean in. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.

This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.

“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”

The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.

“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”

You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.

The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.

“Poor thing was up here by herself. If dick was what you really wanted, you know you could have always asked.”

“Hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.

The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.

He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.

“Fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his head for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.

You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.

“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”

You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts.

He commands, “Again.”

“Y-Yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.

How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.

“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”

“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.

“No the fuck you’re not.”

Godammit.

Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did want to, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.

Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”

“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”

Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.

“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”

He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.

“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.

And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”

You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”

You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.

“No. Come here.”

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.

“My face, baby.”

Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”

You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.

“Sit.”

“Are you sure?” You clarify.

“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between your thighs. The only thing visible is his damp hair.

Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.

You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.

Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”

You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.

Shakily, you call out, “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.

“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.

“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him at all.

“Hmphh?”

“I’m close…can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.

To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.

this was kinda rushed

©️hxltic

[little-diable]

Broke my heart and called me pretty, won me back and called me his - Tyler Owens (smut)

Watched Twisters again and I simply needed to write another Tyler fic. I listened to "Pretty Slowly" by Benson Boone while writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler had ended his engagement to the reader years ago, all for her to chase her dreams. But when he turns up as a guest for her lecture, both find themselves thrown back into the love they still feel for one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho

Pairing: Tyler Owens x professor!fem!reader (4k words)

“(Y/n)?” Her eyes flickered up from her notes, watching her assistant take a step into her office. With a soft smile playing on her lips, (y/n) waited for Alice to keep on speaking, knowing that she must leave for her upcoming class in a few minutes. 

“There’s been a scheduling problem with your guest for today’s lesson, they sent somebody else. He’s waiting outside for you.” For a second, she only stared at Alice, letting the words sink in before her annoyance and anger could clash through her. Organising guests who were willing to speak to her students has always been a struggle, she spent hours on finding the right people and now she couldn’t help but curse them for not giving her an earlier notice.

“Send him in, thank you, Alice.” (Y/n) began to collect her notes as the elderly woman left the room to fetch whoever was waiting outside, buying herself some time to remain calm. Deep breaths left (y/n), fighting through the uneasiness she couldn’t shake. 

The sound of boots meeting the ground rang in her ears, and suddenly her body began to tense, freezing on the spot almost. Somehow she could feel him before she saw him, instantly knowing who was about to enter her office even though it had been years since they had last seen one another. 

“Would you look at that, I’ve always wondered what your office looks like.” His voice shot shudders down her spine, a reaction she had once been all too familiar with but couldn’t help but curse now. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her eyes wander over his features, fuck he was still as handsome as he had been all those years before. 

“What are you doing here, Tyler?” Her voice didn’t carry much strength, just enough to draw his wandering eyes back to her. Tyler studied her for a moment, keeping his distance while both seemed to get lost in the draw they had felt ever since their first date, knowing that the other was the one - or at least it had always felt like that. 

“Jake gave me a call this morning, told me he couldn’t make it. And since we were in the area anyway, I didn’t mind stepping in.” A scoff clawed through (y/n), followed by the shake of her head. She kept her eyes focused on her things while she rose to her feet, set on getting this over and done with as fast as possible.

“Of course you didn’t mind, the holy saint Tyler Owens just can’t help but present himself at any given chance.” His hand shot out to catch her arm before she could brush past him, forcing (y/n) to stand close to him. 

“Hey, I’m doing you a favour here, least you could do is treat me with some respect.” His voice still had that southern drawl to it she had longed to hear for way too long. She had deleted all his socials, hadn’t talked to any of their shared friends, no matter how many times she had longed to do so - even thinking of him hurt still too much. 

“Respect? I’m amazed you even know what that word means.” Both looked at one another for a moment, caught up in the memories that still haunted them to this day. Perhaps it could have been different. Perhaps they could have still been together if their path hadn’t been forced to an end years ago. 

“I did what was right, you can paint me as the bad guy, but don’t lie to yourself, darling. I did it for you, and I would do it all over again.” She ripped herself out of his grasp and muttered a small “Follow me” before leaving the room. Tears threatened to build in her eyes, forced to remember the day he had broken up with her, weeks after he had asked her to marry him. Deep down she knew that he was speaking the truth, if he hadn’t broken up with her, she wouldn’t have followed her dreams to study overseas to end up where she was now. And yet she hadn’t been able to let go of her hurt to this day.

The sounds of their shoes meeting the cold ground was the only thing that could be heard, nothing but heavy steps that felt like they were moving towards their end once again. Ancient lovers reunited in their last hour on this earth, and with one last chance they were offered to find their way back together. A chance that was now slipping through their fingers. 

“Good afternoon.” Her voice boomed through the big room which was filled with students who all instantly stopped speaking. Tyler kept his distance, waiting near the door while studying her every move. This was what he had hoped for all these years ago. For her to end up right here, doing what she had always dreamt of doing.

Parts of him had cursed himself for ending their engagement, but as much as he had wanted to follow her and help her chase her dream with him by her side, he hadn’t been able to leave. He had broken both their hearts with hurtful words spurred on by the anger he had directed at himself and at the circumstances he hadn’t been able to rip himself free from. 

“This is Tyler Owens, I’m sure some of you may know his channel. He’ll talk to you about storm chasing today, please bear in mind that you’ll get enough time for questions after his talk.” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to get lost in the eyes she had always tried to look for in every room. Eyes that had once held their shared secrets. Eyes that had watched her grow into a young woman after meeting when they had been mere teenagers. Eyes that still appeared in her dreams whenever her mind needed a reset from the battles she was currently fighting.

The sound of loud claps filled the room, he moved closer with a smile glued to his lips - a smile that slightly began to drop as she mumbled a quiet “I’ll be in my office” while brushing past him.

……

“Hey,” Tyler’s voice filled her office. A soft sigh left (y/n) as she forced herself to look at him, unable to bite down the hurt that had been clawing at her skin since the second he had first entered her office hours ago. “You missed an interesting class.”

“I,” she cleared her throat while shifting around on her seat. “I watched the stream. You were good, they loved you.”

“Well, what can I say? We have a big fan community.” A soft laugh managed to leave her before she could stop the sound, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Will you grab dinner with me? I think we’ve got some catching up to do.” 

She should have said no. She should have kindly told him that she had other plans. But knowing that she’d most likely not see him again for years and years to come felt like a punch to her gut. So all she did was nod her head and grab her purse, ready to leave her office for the day.

No words were spoken between them as he guided her towards his truck, the same one she had seen in his videos. It felt strange being here with him, sitting in the truck that added to this internet persona of his she was a stranger to, barely recognising the man he was now. 

“It’s bigger than I expected it to be.” (Y/n) blurted out the words while she looked around the truck, watching Tyler drive them to the spot he seemed to have in mind. The smirk tugging on his lips told her that she had just shared something she shouldn’t have, letting him in on the knowledge that she was watching his videos every now and then.

“I always wondered if you were watching us. They miss you, you know.” Nothing but a hum managed to pass her lips, unable to speak up as her throat grew tighter. It had been years since she had last seen his crew, the people she had once called her friends and had cut off the second she had left home, unable to think of anything that had something to do with Tyler. Years had passed before (y/n) had allowed herself to get back into all things storm chasing, which also meant catching up with Tyler and his work. 

“I miss them too.” Her eyes flickered down to his right hand which seemed to move in her direction but before Tyler could touch her, he pulled back again, balling a fist that rested on his thigh. It hurt her more than she had thought to see him like that, seemingly struggling just as much as she did with their newfound distance after all these years. And yet they were still bound together, by something neither could put a finger on. 

“Thought we could visit Mary Jane’s, for old times’ sake.” She couldn’t reply, not when one memory after another caught up with her. They had lost count on the amount of times they had chased in that area, grabbing dinner and coffees at Mary Jane’s at any given chance. A bittersweet memory that only worsened the heavy feeling settling on her chest. 

After parking the truck, she watched him round the car to help her down, keeping his hand placed on the small of her back for a second too long. It felt as if Tyler had to force himself to let go, to remember that she no longer was his to touch, even though it only felt right to keep close. 

“So, tell me, professor. What did I miss? What did you do the last few years? Your mom didn’t tell me much.” Her focus was ripped from the menu at the mention of her mother. She hadn’t told (y/n) anything about being in touch with Tyler, hadn’t dropped his name once. Every now and then (y/n) had wanted to ask about him, knowing that her mother was most likely at least watching his videos, but something had always held her back. Perhaps she had been too scared to hear of stuff she wouldn’t be able to stomach, wondering if he had moved on, if he had found another woman to spend the rest of his life with. 

“You’re still in touch with her?” The approaching waitress momentarily distracted them both, taking on their orders while (y/n)’s gaze kept flickering back to Tyler. Seeing him again had made everything more complicated, a distraction she hadn’t needed, but as much as she wanted to run and hide from the past, she also couldn’t stop herself from wanting to ask all these questions burning on the tip of her tongue. 

“Well, I call her every Christmas and on her birthday, and she does the same.” An unjustified anger simmered inside of her, drawing a frown onto her features while averting her gaze. It felt unfair that he and her mother had kept in touch, sharing details about their experiences and what they had done over the past years – all while (y/n) had fought so hard for a clean start away from her past. “Hey, look at me, pretty.”

“Don’t call me that, Tyler.” Hurt flashed over his features, a sight that only worsened the pain she felt deep inside of her. 

God, what was she even doing here? There was nothing left to say, nothing but a proper goodbye so she could go back to her day and forget the pain she had tried to bury six feet under. 

“Listen, (y/n).” Tyler reached for her hand before she could pull away, forcing her to keep her focus on him. “I didn’t do it right back then, should have sat you down and told you everything I feared and worried about. I should have given you the chance to make this decision for yourself. But I don’t regret giving you an out, you deserved to experience every dream, everything you have worked so hard for. Don’t blame me for wanting you to live the best possible life you could dream to live.”

“But what if all of those dreams had lost their meaning without you? What if nothing worked the same way without you by my side?” A tear dripped from her eye before she could try to wipe it away. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t read what was swimming in his pupils. Nothing but hurt and confusion that made her pull her hand away from his big one. “This was a mistake.”

She pushed herself out of the booth and rushed outside while more tears kept on falling. The shaky exhale leaving her drowned out the sound of Tyler calling for her, catching up with (y/n) before he pulled her against his broad chest. Sobs clawed through her as Tyler’s hand kept stroking up and down her spine, holding her close. 

“I got you, darling, I always will.”

……

“Here, do you need anything else?” It had been hours since her breakdown at the diner. Hours that had been filled with a shared dinner, memories that had been whispered about and eventually a drive back to her place. It had already been late by the time they had left Mary Jane’s, leading her to invite Tyler to stay in her guest room for the night. 

“I’m alright, thank you, darling.” Tyler shot her a smile before he pulled her in for another hug. With a kiss pressed to her hairline, he eventually let go of her, watching (y/n) leave the room after a few hesitant seconds.  

Her heart was racing until she found herself laying restless in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The past hours kept replaying, flashing past her open eyes while wondering if Tyler had managed to fall asleep. Seeing him again had ripped open all old wounds, leaving her confused and torn between too many sensations. For the last years she had tried to move on, had gone on many dates that had led to nothing but a hopeless feeling that she may never get over Tyler and the love she still felt for him. A feeling that had now resurfaced once again. 

With an annoyed sigh clawing through her, (y/n) left her bedroom again, freezing in her step as she found Tyler’s frame standing near the window in her living room, staring down on the city. Slowly, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around herself as she came to a halt next to him. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” His raspy voice made goosebumps rise on her skin, forcing her to shake her head while trying to keep her focus on the lights. A few seconds of silence passed before Tyler wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her against his side. “I missed you, pretty.”

This time she didn’t comment on it, could only push herself further into his embrace to search for his warmth. Wordlessly Tyler pulled her along to her sofa, plopping down on it before she placed her head on his chest, falling back into a routine that felt too familiar. 

“Do you think we would have been married by now if things hadn’t ended?” The question was whispered, rolling off her tongue without giving it much thought. (Y/n) had always wondered about their wedding, how it would have played out, who they would have invited and where it would have taken place. 

“Oh, for sure. I wouldn’t have been able to wait much longer before calling you my wife.” His soft chuckle vibrated through both their bodies, drawing a smile onto her lips. 

“I was so excited for it. It would have been the best day.” Tyler tightened his grip on her waist while pressing another kiss to her hairline. For a moment, neither of them spoke, keeping quiet as their thoughts began to spiral. She felt his muscles tense beneath her, making her wonder what he was about to speak while the night wrapped its comforting veil around them. 

“It can still be the best day.” Her heart skipped a beat, wondering what he meant by that. Her eyes found his, seeing the way he was torn by whatever kept buzzing through his mind. She wasn’t sure what he meant by it, and yet the way he looked at her, filled with something she hadn’t felt in years, left her wondering if he was still talking about the two of them. 

“What are you saying, Tyler?” His hand came up to cup her cheek, feeling her warmth pressing against his hand. Seconds of silence blurred by, making both their hearts race while he fought to find the right words. 

“I won’t ever be able to love anybody the way I love you, and that will never change. And judging by what you told me, it’s the same for you. Marry me, for real this time.” She pushed herself off his chest, rising to her feet with a teary laugh that was torn between excitement and sadness. (Y/n) stared down at him with her fingers buried in her hair, trying to figure out if this was just a joke fate was playing on her. 

“That’s insane, Tyler.” He mimicked her movements to draw her back in, hands resting on her waist. 

“You know what they say, pretty, if you feel it, chase it. And I’m so tired of living this life without you by my side.” Her body forced her to move, to close the distance between them with her lips finding his. Electricity buzzed down her spine, forcing her even closer to deepen the kiss. Kissing Tyler had always been an experience to say the least, two magnets that fit together, an explosion of heat and longing, and yet this felt even better than all these years ago. It felt right, more right than anything else. 

Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up, forcing her legs to find their way around his waist. Tyler carried her back to her bedroom, letting them rest on her mattress with him hovering over her. 

“Do you mean it? Really mean it?” (Y/n) mumbled the question against his lips. His fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, a warm touch that communicated what both felt at that moment, an undying longing that grew stronger with every passing second. 

“Marry me, (y/n).” Another laugh clawed through her, a sound that turned into a moan the second his lips found her neck, kissing their way down to her collarbones. 

“Alright, I will marry you.” Tyler kissed her again as his hands disappeared beneath her shirt to pull it over her head, exposing her naked frame to his wandering eyes. 

“You’re even more gorgeous, fuck. I can’t wait to make you mine again.” Her eyes fluttered close as he tugged on her panties, pushing them down her legs. Tyler’s mouth kissed its way to her aching heat, groaning the second he tasted her again after all these years. With both arms slung around her thighs to keep her close, he ate her out, letting his rough tongue brush through her slit before sucking on her pulsing bundle.

Moans and groans left both, high on the different feelings both were held hostage by. No longer could (y/n) remember if being with Tyler had always felt like that, all she knew was that she never wanted this moment to end. She’d happily be stuck in time like that, forever reunited with the one that had gotten away. 

Tyler let his gaze rest on her pleasure-drunken features, trying not to get too eager while his hardening cock begged for her attention. He’d fuck her all through the night and then some more in the morning, having to burn every passing moment into his mind to fight against the fear of waking up in a few hours from a too good to be true dream.

“Tyler,” his name rolled off her tongue, spurring him on to push her over the edge. (Y/n) had her back arched off the comfortable mattress, hands fisting the blanket while her first orgasm clashed through her like a ship hitting the cold ocean ground. She lost control of the moment, could only give room to her sounds the blinding sensation pushed through her. 

He kept lapping at her folds, prolonging her orgasm while he couldn’t bite down his proud smirk. Tyler still knew her body like the back of his hand, able to map her out even with both eyes closed as if she had always been his. 

“What will it be, darling? What do you want?” Tyler’s voice had grown lower, raspier even while he still lingered between her trembling thighs. He watched her heavily exhale, needing to ground herself before letting her twinkling eyes find his. 

“I need you inside of me, now, Tyler.” Without having to ask twice, he followed her command, getting rid of his shirt and his tight boxers before finding his way back to her. He watched her fish for a condom, helping him roll it down his length as both their hands shook from the anticipation and excitement they couldn’t shake. 

Somehow it reminded her of her first night with Tyler, the first time he had fucked her in the back of his truck in the middle of nowhere. It had been the best night of her life, or so she had always thought - until today at least. 

With his lips pressed against hers, he kept himself close as he pushed into her, slowly. Both groaned at the feeling, no longer used to being connected this intimately. She clung to him with her nails clawed into the soft skin of his back, needing to adjust for a few seconds before a soft “please” managed to leave her. 

They weren’t in a rush, weren’t set on chasing a high within a handful of seconds, but it felt too good to have one another back again, set on giving their all to the other. Every thrust hit her swollen spot, every thrust reminded (y/n) of the way Tyler had always managed to make her feel - as if he was the match setting a petrol station ablaze, a heat so strong it could melt her skin right off her body. 

Forever his, forever hers, a story so complete, neither could manage to put it into words. 

Their bodies met with every faster growing thrust, set on feeling her walls flutter around him while he kissed her breathless. She stared up at him, getting lost in the eyes that were filled with a love so strong, she was sure that neither of them would be able to let go ever again. 

“Atta girl, you’re doing so well for me. I got you.” He pressed a kiss to her neck while he deeply exhaled. Both tried to drag out the moment, hoping that they could stay connected for longer, but their bodies had other plans, needing another high while falling off the edge together.

Tyler’s hand found her right thigh, pulling it closer to her body to hit deeper spots that made both groan. She snuck a hand between their bodies to circle her pulsing bundle, desperate for the relief cumming around him would push through her. Encouraging praises and sweet nothings left Tyler, spurring her on to let go before he could. 

And then (y/n) came again, high on everything he embraced while another moan left her. Tyler fucked her for a few more moments, chasing his own orgasm before he groaned against her warm skin. The feeling buzzing through them both only grew stronger, keeping them united while they tried to catch their breaths.

“Are we really doing this? This is insane.” Her breathless laugh filled the room, leaving Tyler chuckling while he lifted his head off her chest. He looked at her for a moment, pressed a kiss to her slightly swollen lips and then pulled out of her.

“We are, and I can’t wait to finally call you my wife.”

[fraugwinska]

Minors DNI - 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - 4,6k words Attention: Mentions of fictional Witchcraft and Voodoo (I know this is a very sensitive topic, which is why I threaded very vaguely and lightly. I mean absolutely NO disrespect to either of those spiritualities)

Master of Puppets

You paced nervously through your room. The clock ticked the safe seconds away, the seconds Alastor where wasn't here. The seconds where Alastor didn't know.

He liked you, of course. At least enough to experiment with you, that much you could say with confidence. He had shown interest in the little witch inventor that joined the hotel, sharing the same proficiency in magic as himself. Although, unlike him, you had been an eclectic witch in your lifetime, and used more traditional western magic, whereas Alastor wasn't familiar with that, relying fully on voodoo practices he learned from the women of his family. So, you taught him and he taught you, and over the shared hours of lessons, discussions and practices, things got more and more... handsy. Until one day even the last gap between you was closed, and before both of you knew it you were sharing a bed more often than a book on sigils or rituals.

It was a mutual thing. You were insanely attracted to him, and he liked you well enough to indulge in activities he'd normally frown upon. Which made you feel special - It didn't soothe the nerves though, as you fumbled around with the little objects in the black carved box, making sure everything was perfect, before hastily slamming it shut when you heard knocks on the door.

"Yes?" you said, as if you hadn't been expecting him, as if your heart wasn't trying to leap out of your chest.

"Darling, it's me! May I come in?" you heard him say, and the door opening before you could answer. "I hope I'm not too early."

You turned around, giving him a shy smile after glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're right on time, as always."

"Punctuality is one of the only virtues I try uphold." He took a few steps towards you. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."

"Do I? It's... Nothing. I just have... I'm excited for something to show to you."

"Really?" He was intrigued, leaning in a little. "Well, now I'm curious. Is it the skinning spell you've been working on? I might have some test subjects in mind, if you are already finished."

You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beating painfully in your chest. "Not quite. I made something new, though."

"Oh?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "What is it?"

You fidgeted, not knowing how to start, how to ease him into it. He was a man that didn't appreciate if one beat around the bush, so better to rip the band-aid off in one violent, leap-of-faith-kind of way. You went to the black box, fingers trembling as you lifted the golden hatch, and before you could change your mind and call the whole thing off you scooped the small voodoo dolls out and held them out to him.

"I made these. For you... Us."

He was taken aback for a moment, not saying anything as he stared at the two little cloth figures, then down at you. They were intricately made replicas of you both, you had spent hours and hours sewing them, even going so far as to design and make identical outfits for them. He took both of them out of your hands, turning them slowly in his own, examining them with a frighteningly unreadable look.

"So you solely tried your hands on my profession I see. Why?" his eyes were boring into you, the smile on his face tight and tense, and you had to fight yourself not to stutter.

"I-I figured..." You swallowed hard. "I thought it could help us to... to be closer. More connected, in a way. And I thought you would like to... try this."

He blinked slowly, and the grin he wore stretched a bit further, the static getting louder in your ears. You were starting to think he didn't like it. You were starting to regret this.

"It is an unusual gift." His voice was calm, laced with a hint of curiosity, but you still couldn't relax. "Quite a surprise, too."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, and he chuckled softly.

"I don't know, darling. That depends on how it will be used." He holds up your miniature, his brows raised expectantly. "Tell me how it works."

"Uh... Well, it's more of a mix between your and my magic. T-they have some of my spells sewn into them, and then I enchanted them on your altar. All that's left to do is to tie a hair around the neck of it and offer a drop of blood, and... we will be able to feel anything that's done to the doll."

"Feel?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes gleaming with dark excitement.

"Anything." Your throat was dry, the words almost catching there.

"That sounds positively delightful."

Your heart did a flip in your chest as his voice lowered into a purr, his eyes fixed on the tiny you, the static rising around him. He was captivated, but also suspicious, and that didn't make your anxiety lessen one bit. More so as he found the red stain on your dolls chest and the shimmer of a hair around its neck. Your version of a peace offering.

"It seems this little thing is already prepared and ready to use, isn't it, dearest?" he hummed, looking at you, the smile stretching wide and showing his sharp teeth.

"Yes... if you wanted to... see how it worked first. To decide whether you want to give it a try."

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver. There was no humor in it, but sheer anticipation. Hunger. "Well then. Better not waste such a generous opportunity."

He sat his own replica down on the nightstand next to your bed, and settled down on the mattress, patting the spot next to him for you to join. You did, sitting as stiff as a board, your eyes trained on him as he looked down at your little doll. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before running his fingers across the doll's body, and you gasped.

All your hard work evidently payed off - The touch felt eerily real. Warm, like the heat of his hands was spreading all over you, a soft caress up the middle of your stomach, a tickle around your waist. His fingertips traveled upward, pressing softly against your chest, and your breath stocked in your lungs.

"You've really outdone yourself with this one darling. So receptive..." Alastor's smile widened into a full grin, and the fact that he didn't need to touch your skin to see the blush creeping across your cheeks was one detail he seemed to particularly enjoy. The rough feeling of his claws grating against you was replaced with the hot touch of phantom lips, pressing gently against your neck as he pulled the small shirt collar aside, his tongue licking across the doll's shoulder.

The sensation almost felt out of place in comparison, making you fall onto your back with a gasp, into the soft covers of your bed, unable to maintain any sort of composure. Instead of feather light touches, his mouth felt way heavier on your skin than it should. Warm, wet... As he scraped his teeth along the little doll's neck, a low moan slipped between your lips.

"And what attention to details. It's almost a shame to ruin your hard work, but oh well."

His eyes stayed on you as he hooked a fingertip under the dolls garments, cutting it clean off of it, and even though yours stayed fully intact - what you were feeling was a whole different story. Your eyes betrayed you: Even fully clothed you felt the cool air of your room on your skin, you felt exposed, bare and utterly vulnerable. It made your skin break out in goosebumps and your lips part in an unstifled sound of arousal.

"Gorgeous, darling... Absolutely wonderful. A truly masterful piece of magic." The tone of his voice was tingling all over you, a mixture of warm affection and dark cravings. You had never been one to enjoy being praised by a man, but it made you close your eyes and squirm with absolute and desperate need when it came from Alastor. Mouth already open to say something, the words died in your throat, replaced by a high whine when you felt a wet sensation traveling over your stomach down to the inside of your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, finding Alastor's again, his irises practically glowing and locked on you as he ran his tongue all the way across the small body. Teasing. Playing. He narrowed his eyes and traced every curve with the same meticulous patience you knew him for, the sensation sending shocks of excitement and adrenaline through you as it circled the dolls skin, drawing closer and closer to the most intimate parts, until there was nowhere else to trail, nowhere else for it to run to. He stopped, leaving you flushed and panting and shattered next to him on the bed.

"My, my, sweetheart..." he cooed, poking the little doll in his hands into it's side with the softest touch, making you jerk into his side. "At this rate, this seems more like a gift for you than for me."

The blush on your face deepened and you averted your eyes. "...You're probably not wrong."

"No, I'd say I am absolutely right," he chuckled, shifting closer and tracing a hand up your body and to your throat in a smooth motion, and your body arched into the touch with the ease of a moth to flame. For a moment, he didn't move, resting his claws wrapped around your neck, his fingertips heavy on your skin. He seemed to weight his options, deciding on how to proceed. Finally, he leaned into you, bringing his lips closer to yours and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I'll trust you to rectify this circumstance then."

Your eyes widened when he stood up, gently placing your doll down and switching its place with his own. You sat up, watching how he carefully plucked a hair from his head, wrapping it tightly around the neck of his miniature alter ego. It looked almost sinfully elegant and downright seductive, how his long fingers tied it tightly, before he turned back to you, his grin splitting his face in half. There was something in his expression you haven't seen before - hesitancy. It was only a second, but you still held your breath as it passed, and he chuckled as he bit his lip, dark, almost black blood dripping onto the chest of the doll in his hands.

"A rare occasion for me to spill blood. I hope you'll make it worth it."

You swallowed heavily and he grinned, reaching for your hand and gently putting the doll on your palm, giving you a stern, commanding look. "My turn."

You nodded as he settled himself on your bed, now stretching himself fully on the mattress. Lifting your other hand you carefully laid one finger on top of his dolls' throat, before drawing your fingers across and down, over its chest and its sides, making his form shiver and his ears twitch. As you undid the small coat and shirt, dragging your nail gently over the dolls abdomen, Alastor gave a resounding, pleased sigh. You stared at him in wonder of your own work, silently asking yourself if your touches on the fabric in your hands felt as intensified as his did on yours before.

With a spark of nervous excitement you followed a whim of insanity, a quick glance confirming Alastor had his eyes closed. He had never before allowed you to touch his ears - now, their artificial counterparts were at your fingertips, and with a racing heart, you drew a stroke from the base of his ear right across its entire length, all the way until the fine point. A loud, drawn-out groan filled the room and your cheeks burnt crimson when his back arched and his hands twitched towards you, the knuckles white as he clenched them into fists, a tremor going through his shoulders. The groan ended in a long whine, the eyes snapping open and locking right into yours, and your breath hitched as you saw the smoldering embers. His grin grew tighter, strained, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach drop, your whole body feeling exposed and naked despite still being fully dressed.

"Testy little thing. Always going for most dangerous experiments..." He shook his head as he exhaled slowly, his breath ragged and labored and in the soft illumination of your bedside lamp his neck was dusted a light pink. You marveled for a second, mesmerized. That was, until his tone dropped an octave, making your body snap back to attention, your nipples hardening painfully beneath your clothes. "How about another then, darling. You do that again..." His shadow tendrils shot out from nowhere, wrapping around your waist and thighs and lifting you over his face as you yelped and almost let the doll slip from your hands, the hem of your skirt pushed aside and heated core right above his watering mouth. "...while I do this."

With no time left for a reply, you felt your flimsy panties flicked aside and your body lowered onto his waiting tongue, all thought replaced by a sudden wave of blinding ecstasy. There was something truly addicting about the heat and hunger of his lips, the way they locked around your clit and sucked you down in the best form of torturous pain like life depended on it, his nails digging into your hips with force, while your brain was practically erasing every input but the burning sensation below. The doll in your hands, pressed to your heaving chest, was long forgotten as your head fell back and each swipe of his cursed appendix sent a shockwave through your spine. You groaned, you whimpered, and Alastor could taste the waves of delicious agony on his tongue. When he withdrew, the loss of his wet heat and the chill of the cool air against your slick folds made you almost break out in tears.

"Focus, dearest, on the task I gave you. Or do I have to repeat myself?"

The growl in his voice snapped you out of it and made you take a shaky breath before you finally composed yourself. Your fingers trembled as they grazed the tips of the dolls ears again, your movements almost trance like as your whole body yearned for it to return onto his lips. Alastor's brows furrowed, lips pursed for a second as you drew a slow, sensual line up the miniatures length, stopping and softly kneading at the pointed tip.

"Good girl." he murmured, voice breathy, and for a second you could have sworn you saw his eye twitch, though his grin stayed firmly plastered onto his face. His words sent an instantaneous warmth pooling in your lower stomach, and your chest fluttered as you tried to swallow down the intense elation that shot through your veins at those words - the same words Alastor used when you mastered one of his magical exercises, and although the praise was always flattering, in this context it felt downright lewd and utterly divine to be called that. When your hand lowered a bit, massaging the base of the dolls ears, Alastor's noises became low growls and deep purrs around the wet skin his lips devoured. The black vines on your waist and legs tightened their grip as well, pushing you deeper down onto his mouth.

You hadn't even registered what happened, but with a snap your top was ripped in the front, the clasp of your bra followed, and the familiar humming sound of his static made you squeal in surprise when his voice was suddenly much louder, his tongue shoved into you as far as he could go and his shadows ripping your clothes off at lightning speed. With both hands stroking, massaging and pulling the dolls ears now, the pure pleasure hitting you was almost too much, but as much as your hands ached for the real thing, to run your nails over the red fluff and trace the soft curves and edges of the dark antlers growing on the sides of his head, all you could do was imagine, with all your fingers on the dolls soft material instead and moving furiously up and down its head, to do exactly the same thing.

Alastor growled underneath you, the sound deep and rumbling, sending vibrations through your trembling thighs and against your sensitive skin, and it sounded so much more desperate and disoriented than you had ever heard from him before. Had you been looking down, had you been able to see anything beyond the mind-shattering pleasure, the wide blown pupils and the unfocused gaze in the glowing red irises, you might have wondered why that was - Alastor's control was slipping, and his smile finally was showing that.

In an instant your body was turned and placed on your back, your limbs shaking in the grip of his shadows and body utterly at the mercy of the tall red man leaning over you and undoing his bow tie with the rapidity and precision of a professional magician. His hair had gotten a little ruffled in the process, and his red shirt hung open and wrinkled against his skin.

"A compelling exercise indeed, my dear." he spoke, the rasp in his tone and the ragged breath accentuating his words. With a swift movement his jacket joined the shirt and harness that already had been thrown onto the floor somewhere, and then the shadows were back and prodding against the soaked cloth, the only thing left around your hips. They snuck into every slit they could find, exposing more and more of you, while their owner's gaze hungrily devoured every bit of exposed skin. The stretchable fabric made for easy work, but you had the distinct feeling they wouldn't have needed it at all as the shadows literally dissolved every thread they encountered. Alastor reached for your replica again, seemingly collecting himself and catching his breath.

"You are quite talented, and it'll be a joy to discover what other marvels your mind can come up with." His claw dragged down over the dolls' hips, one set of real, the other set of simulated hands following it a millisecond after, right along your bare and barer sides, sending waves of anticipation down the inside of your thighs. In an instant, two very corporeal, long fingers were back between your folds, knuckle deep into your seeping core, and Alastor chuckled lowly at your surprised whine, the smug and devious purr rumbling in his chest as he took note of every twitch your body made to the tune of his strokes. "But I think it's about time to return the favor though, don't you agree?"

Still stroking that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, the hand that held your puppet glowed in bright green, and in between your moans and pants your wide eyes can't tear themselves from the strange symbols that appear around it, swirling and sparkling. You've seen Alastor perform magic countless of times, have watched and marveled at every spell he cast and his flair for the dramatic was only matched by the elegance of his every motion. But this? This was something else. The nonchalance with which his fingers pumped in and out of you, working meticulously, tactically, teasing you and working you into a mess with such a proficiency while he traced symbols with his free hand and the script, the raw power of it, the surge you could feel radiating from him, all that and his unflinching composure drove you mad with both desire and fascination.

The light and the symbols faded, and in his hands - the puppet, similar yet not quite. It felt off, almost lifelike, the fabric more skin-like, and with a gasp, you saw..

"Let me now see, if my own little contribution can be counted as an improvement, my little witch."

If someone asked you later on what had actually happened, you couldn't have said a single word - it was too salacious, too outrageous, too much outside of what you had ever expected from Alastor. How could you ever recount the way he pulled his throbbing cock out with his free hand - thick, dripping with precum and inhumanly beautiful. How his fingers were guiding your tiny copy to align with its tip, while he never left your eyes, smile almost manic.

He made holes. And seconds later, when he slowly pushed the doll onto his length, with his fingers still buried deep inside you, you knew that they worked. Oh, and how they worked.

"Oh m-my... god..."

It was heaven and hell. Bliss and torture, the feeling abhorrently delicious. The magical connection allowed every ridge, vein and vibration of his cock to transfer perfectly through the dolls body to you, making you shudder and keen at the intensity, the sheer tightness, and simultaneously Alastor groaned - a broken, rugged sound, loud enough to make you glance up with misty eyes from your debauched position. Your insides clenched hard around his fingers and the ghost of his cock, your toes curling as you whimpered, a picture perfect representation of how utterly sinful he looked with his dark lashes resting on his red cheeks, eyes shut and the mouth agape as his chest was rising and falling, breaths coming hard and labored.

He noticed your raptured gaze, looking down at you through hooded eyes, his smile positively obscene.

"Mh, I like the way you pray on me instead of one of your silly deities, darling. But you can call me Alastor."

And oh, how it felt, when his hand closed tightly around the little voodoo doll that was stuffed so full of him. You arched your back and writhed against the firm hold the tentacles had on you, pressing your knees against the pillows as he pulled his drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face to lick them clean. He groaned at the taste, closing his eyes and making an effort to concentrate, his control crumbling in tiny pebbles around you, and his hips started to snap, sheathing the miniature you further on his cock, thrusting in increasingly fast paced movements. A string of whimpers escaped you, his name spilling throughout them like a mantra, as you were unable to do much more but twitch, shake and tremble as his ministrations came faster, harder, and Alastor let his head fall back, baring his neck and swallowing.

"You're so-" He groaned, squeezing your dolls body, forcing it closer against him and sliding it off and back on at an excruciatingly slow pace, your moans climbing and escalating with every inch that moved through the magic veil and in and around your sopping center. "-goddamn perfect, perfectly made for me." Your body didn't know how to react anymore, you stuttered incoherently, everything full with his praise, with this cock that wasn't there but was, the heat that shouldn't have been possible to fill you but did. You felt every bit of skin and fur and sweat and the realization only dawned on you when it was already too late: That you were about to come harder than you ever did, and that Alastor was losing his mind just from watching your reactions to his assault on your doll.

"S-So tight and needy. What a perfect... little... toy you are." If they were meant for you below him or the doll in his hands - you didn't know. But the panted words and almost dirty, explicit praise spilled from his lips in a flurry, every syllable seemed strangely calculated, aimed like a dart straight into you and tearing down all defenses as your pussy twitched helplessly around the sensation of being stretched and fucked open on the image of his cock. When he chuckled and sank your doll to the base, grinding your little figure against him so the head of his cock poked and prodded you where it had never reached before, you all but screamed his name as you came, and your pathetic cries pulled a harsh string of groans and grunts out of the demon towering over you, his breathless cursing and rambled obscenities underlined by the vicious snaps of his hips as he used your simulacrum like a glorified sex toy. His nails pierced the outer layer of the doll as your walls constricted and contracted around the thick nothing as he finished you and himself off into the realm of oblivion.

Everything went white for a moment and when your senses returned, Alastor was carefully cradling you into his arms, the little replica sitting next to his own on your bedside table, their heads almost tenderly leaning on each other. He was gently raking his claws through your damp, disheveled hair, placing little kisses down the back of your neck and on the thin skin behind your ears as he mumbled silent praises against your skin. He kissed along your jaw, gentle as anything, a soft thumb grazing along your lips, cheeks and your temple as he traced the lines of your features until he found the pulse on your neck. The cold touch of his lips was a nice contrast to the hot breath, and you moaned softly at his affectionate gesture.

"It's never a disappointment with you, love, quite the contrary." He hummed, scraping his sharp teeth almost teasingly along the crook of your neck before kissing it, covering your skin with static electricity. "What a marvelous surprise you prepared for me, my dear, truly magical." His lips pressed into yours in a rare kiss, and you leaned back into his naked embrace and smiled, the giddy feeling of accomplishment spreading in your belly and mixing in beautifully with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"I'm glad... you liked it."

"Oh, that is hardly the phrase I would use," Alastor chuckled as he pulled back, making you blush as his red iris glowed dangerously. "But you, my dear, will have a little work to do, seeing as I'm positively spoiled after this gift. You have no idea of the things I'm thinking about, all the possibilities of what we can accomplish if we put both our minds – and magic - to it."

Alastor pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing his chin and cheeks across your scalp and shoulders, coating you with a generous amount of his scent as if to mark you before pulling the blankets up and covering the two of you as his arms locked around you possessively, letting you settle against his chest as he hummed a melody you didn't know. But you knew him well enough to know that it was a clear sign of him being absolutely pleased and content.

You smiled, his good mood infectious, and as you glanced to the two dolls that sat together like a matching pair, stripped of their clothes and as close together as you and the real demon were now under the sheets, it made you feel like the cat that ate the canary. The cat had been fed by Alastor, sure. But he had also had his fill and then some, and really... that was all that mattered to you.

[woso-soso]

Missing Puzzle Piece Pt.2

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: What happens when Ingrid starts to catch feelings for those already taken and will they all act on those feelings?

Word Count: 4,857

Part 1

Any time words are Italicized it indicates another language being spoken, in the case of this story it will indicate Spanish is spoken. Any time words are Bold German is being spoken. These language changes shouldn't occur too much in the future!

Ingrid's POV

Ingrid had only been in Barcelona for a total of two hours when her first misstep happened. Walking out of the conference room with an air of confidence, the impact of her hitting something knocking her back into reality. The crash of a box hitting the ground snapping her out of her shock, she found herself staring at a much smaller person, their eyes not meeting hers as they stared down at the box on the ground. Ingrid had a gut feeling it held something valuable, a sick feeling forming in her stomach at the thought of having broken something within hours of signing her contract. 

“I’m so sorry,” She rushes out, her hand still holding onto the stranger's arm in an attempt to keep them from falling. 

“It.. is.. okay,” she stammered out, clearly doing her best to come up with a response in English. 

“I’m Ingrid, I just signed with the women's team,” she says, a soft smile on her face. Releasing the stranger's arm to hold her hand out towards her. She takes her hand gently, not really committing to shaking it.

“I am Y/N,” She responds with a small shake of their hands. 

“Well it was very nice to meet you Y/N,” Ingrid says as she observes a slight blush form across Y/N’s face. Her eyes go back to the box on the floor but before Y/N gets a chance to bend down and pick it up Ingrid quickly retrieves the remarkably heavy box from the floor. Handing it over to Y/N, who visibly relaxes when she opens the box to see all of its contents still intact. Ingrid takes this as her moment to quickly turn and head down the hallway, unknowingly leaving Y/N behind in a state of confusion. 

It only takes Ingrid slightly longer than expected to navigate her way to the women's team locker room. The music coming from inside guiding her the last few hallways to find it. While this wasn’t her first time meeting some of the team, mainly knowing Caro from the Norwegian national team and Frido from the time they shared at Wolfsburg, a pit of nerves still settled in her stomach. The fact that her Spanish was still very limited only intensified her nerves. Taking one last deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach, she pushes the door open. The music hitting her ears first, the fast Spanish conversations hitting her second. It’s all overwhelming as she stands in the doorway, her brain telling her to turn around and flee but before she gets a chance she feels someone grab her hand. Whipping her head around she finds the comforting smile of the blond she knew so well. 

“Frido,” Ingrid sighs out, knowing that there is no way she can actually hear her.

“Ingrid, I’m so happy you're here!” Frido declares loudly as she pulls her into a hug. The familiar feeling of someone she knows relaxing her slightly. “Everyone,” Frido shouts, drawing the attention of the locker room. The music shutting off, silencing the room to an almost eerie level. “I’m sure some of you know her but I would like to introduce you all to Ingrid, she's just signed her contract. She’s still learning Spanish so please, be gentle with her.” Frido announces with a big grin on her face. The majority of what she had said going right over Ingrid's head. The majority of players in the room shout back a simple hello not wanting to overwhelm the brunette woman. Caro makes her way over to give Ingrid a quick hug before heading out to the training pitch not staying to mingle as the two already had plans for later that night. 

“Hello, I’m Alexia,” Alexia Putellas says, extending her hand for Ingrid to shake. The introduction felt kind of unnecessary, of course Ingrid knew of Alexia Putellas she would have to be living under a rock to not know of the Alexia Putellas. “I wanted to introduce myself before we get started, if you have any questions please let me know I’ll do my best to answer.” With that Alexia is gone, Ingrid looks around the remaining group in the locker room. Frido lingers by her cubby, tying her boots just right. Another taller brunette sits in her cubby in the corner, the name Cata Coll plastered above the cubby. Finally there is a tattoo covered blond, her back is turned to Ingrid but her heart starts to flutter. 

Ingrid had sworn off dating teammates, not after the last time at Wolfsburg which had ended in a mild disaster. She had been determined to not find any of her new teams enticing, yet, here she was instantly feeling drawn towards the bleach blond beauty in front of her. 

“Don’t get caught staring,” Frido whispers as she goes to pass her. “Your cubby is the empty one next to mine, I’d start getting ready if I were you.” With a shake of her head Ingrid quickly gets herself ready, ignoring the blond she now knows is named María León if the plaque above her cubby is correct. 

Ingrid's first practice with the team goes as well as it could, there were times she struggled to follow directions that were rambled off too quickly in Spanish. But thankfully Caro was there to save her the embarrassment, always quickly filling her in when needed in Norwegian. The language barrier doesn’t keep her from being drawn towards the woman she now knows prefers to go by Mapi. Mapi’s English is obviously something she is working on as she jokes around with Frido and Caro in English even though both of them can understand her just fine in Spanish. She has a charm that draws Ingrid in, the tattoos scattered across her body wanting her to learn more about her. The quote “looks can be deceiving” tattooed across her throat interested her the most. 

“Are you still up for tonight?” Caro asks, starting Ingrid as she yet again catches herself staring at Mapi. 

“Yeah.. totally.. for sure.” She stammers, tearing her eyes away from Mapi. 

“Good, I have the perfect place to take you. Also, I’d be careful with the staring. She’ll notice quicker than you think.” Caro’s warning causes a bright blush to form across Ingrid's face, she had hoped she had been somewhat discrete but she realizes now she is incapable of that. “Come on, let's head out,” Caro says, taping her on the back as she passes by. Ingrid takes one last look back at Mapi, a small smile forming as she watches the blond celebrate yet another penalty kick she made. 

Ingrid does her best to keep Mapi out of her head going into practice over the next week, yet she always seems to wiggle her way back in. From being paired up for drills, her arm draped lazily across her shoulder during team huddles, to short conversations during water breaks. Ingrid was inevitably growing a crush on the shorter woman. 

“Are you coming to team bonding tonight,” a voice rings from behind her, turning to see Alexia walking up to her. A water bottle extended towards her. 

“Thanks,” Ingrid says softly, taking the bottle from her hand, turning away from watching Mapi to try and focus on Alexia. “I was planning on it, who all is coming?” 

“Most of us will be, I know some of them are bringing their partners so be prepared for more people then normal.” Alexia says between breaths, her own water bottle clutched tightly in her hand. 

“Okay, thanks for the heads up,” She says handing the water bottle back over before heading towards the locker room. Did she really want to go to team bonding, not really. She had barely gotten unpacked, she was mentally and physically exhausted. She also knew deep down the majority of the night would be spent trying to decipher Spanish, Spanish spoken at a speed that was bound to be impossible to understand. But she also deep down wanted to see Mapi, away from the pitch, in clothes that weren’t workout attire. Sure she may not understand her all of the time but she made her laugh, she was comfortable with her and she wanted to see if she felt that away from the pitch. 

The team had chosen a restaurant not too far from the training facilities making it an easy enough walk. She was just happy she had chosen practical shoes this morning seeing as she still didn’t have a car either hitching rides or walking everywhere. Yet Ingrid still found herself arriving after a good majority of the team, like Alexia had said many of them were there with their partners making the already cramped space even tighter. 

“Ingrid,” Caro shouts, waving her over to the table she had seemingly commandeered for the night, Marta sat with her in the corner. The table, while not large, had a few seats left open, Ingrid wasn’t sure if she had been saving them or if she got lucky that she arrived when she did but she wasn’t going to question it. 

“There's a lot of people here,” She says as she sits down, finally taking a moment to breathe. 

“And we are still waiting on some, I think Mapi got held up so I know she’ll be here soon,” Caro mentions nonchalantly, seemingly not noticing the blush that appeared on Ingrid's face. The waiter comes around to get their orders, Marta saving her some grace by ordering for her thankfully. She still hadn’t tried to order anything out since being here, too afraid of embarrassing herself. 

Conversation comes easily with Caro and Marta, the three of them switching between English, Norwegian, and Spanish easily. It wasn’t until a cheer of commotion was heard from the entrance of the room that Ingrid looked up. Instantly seeing Mapi dressed casually in a button-up shirt and some shorts, her hair thrown up in a haphazard bun. But as her eyes trail lower her stomach drops. Mapi’s hand is firmly locked with another, and as she follows that hand she finds the gorgeous person she literally ran into in the hallway her first day here. The two of them appeared happy, laughing as some of the players went over to greet the two of them. The first thing many of them do is hug the person attached to Mapi. This clearly wasn’t a new thing. 

“Who is that with Mapi?” Ingrid asks hesitantly.  

“Oh, that’s Y/N, Mapi’s been with her for as long as I’ve known them. I’m pretty sure they’ve been together since they were like teenagers but don’t quote me on that.” Caro says not looking up from her phone. The sick feeling in Ingrid's stomach gets even worse as the pair make their way towards their table. The table with the only seats left. 

Y/N’s POV

You hadn’t planned on taking forever at work, you’d known Mapi had a team bonding night she was hoping for you to come to. You had been sure to text her that she might as well go ahead without you, insisting that editing the final few photos for the men’s merchandise page were going to take longer than planned. When you didn’t get an answer back you assumed she would head out and let you know where she was so you could meet up later. What you hadn’t expected was for her to pop up in your cubicle, hoping up onto your desk. 

“I told you to go ahead my love,” You said, not looking up from the computer in front of you. 

“I know, and I decided I would rather be here with you and when you're done we will go together. The girls will still be there.” Mapi insisted. Taking a mint from the jar on your desk, popping it into her mouth without a second thought. 

“How have things been with the team?” You ask as you click over to the next picture.

“Good, the set pieces are starting to finally come together. Ingrid won’t stop staring at me. Oh Alexia’s free kicks are looking really good too.” Mapi says while scrolling on her phone, not looking up as you stop clicking. 

“Who won’t stop staring at you?” Turning to stare at the blond, her fingers stopping as she registers what she had said. 

“Um… Ingrid.” Mapi says hesitantly, putting her phone down to turn and give you her full attention. The conversation the two of you had still fresh in your minds. 

“She’s been staring, does she know you have a partner?” You inquire, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“I… umm I haven’t mentioned it, I don’t know if the other girls have said anything.” You hum at her response, turning back towards your laptop to finish up the last few details. “Are you mad at me?” Mapi asks after a moment. 

“No, there’s no reason to be.” You respond, quickly saving the last image before sending them off to the admin for merchandising. “You haven’t done anything, how can I be mad when someone is staring at my extremely sexy girlfriend. Honestly it's kind of a complement. Now come on, I'm all done, let's go get food.” You insist, grabbing your bag and taking Mapi’s hand in yours.

The drive to the restaurant is short but comfortable as the two of you sit in content silence. Seeing the rest of the girls had arrived the two of you park, letting Mapi lead you in, still taking a backseat when it comes to being around the team. You still had hopes to one day work with the women's team and that meant the boundaries you had still had to be upheld. 

“It’s been a minute since you’ve been around Y/N,” Alexia says, greeting you with a hug. 

“I’ve been just a little busy,” You responded with a grin, the last few months had been extra hectic due to your promotion and you knew the girls had missed your presence. Plenty of them had messaged you to tell you themselves no longer trusting Mapi to relay the message. 

“Well we are happy you're here, I’m sure there are some seats somewhere.” Alexia says, letting Mapi pull you away from the group that had formed. It's only once you get close to the table that you notice who's sitting there. 

“Are these seats free,” Mapi asks smoothly, her English much more advanced than yours. 

“There all yours,” Caro says, waving her hand at the last two seats at the table. The two of you manage to squeeze into the tight table, you have to sit almost on top of Ingrid, a blush forming on your cheeks that you're thankful is hidden by the darkened room. “What took you two so long anyway?” 

“She was held up with work,” Mapi answers, not looking up from the menu the two of you were sharing. 

“What is it you do Y/N?” Ingrid asks. 

It takes you a moment to process what she had said, hesitantly looking over to Mapi for help. 

“She’s wondering what your job is,” She aids quickly, her hand going to your knee as a way to reassure you. 

“Ah, I um… I work with the mens team… I am their uh head photographer.” You get out after a moment. Mapi gives your knee a soft squeeze, she knew how much you had been working on your English and how nervous you were to actually speak it. 

“Oh so that's why I saw you in the offices, how long have you been doing that?” Ingrid asks, turning to look at you. Her intensely hazel eyes illuminated by the candles that are scattered around the room. You hesitate, swallowing your nerves. You hadn’t fully understood her question, she had been speaking too quickly. But you also don’t want to seem incapable of holding a conversation. 

“How long?” You reply hesitantly hoping she will give you some reassurance you were on the right track. You don’t get a verbal response but her smile widens, a small nod of her head telling you to go on. “I have um.. I’ve been with Barcelona since 2017, but I have…. been doing photos since we lived in Madrid.” You hope that your response is clear, looking to Mapi for reassurance. Her subtle smile making it clear you had done well. 

“Oh, by we you mean the two of you.” Ingrid inquires, pointing between you and Mapi. 

“Uh-huh,” Mapi responds as she takes a sip of her water, wanting to give you a moment to relax. Trying to not only process but respond in English was still new to you and it still quickly drained you. 

“Oh, well how long have the two of you been together?” She asks, her eyes bouncing between the two of you. You can see her eyeing Mapis' hand that was still resting on your knee. 

“Um, I’m twenty six,” Mapi says, thinking intensely. Neither one of you have ever been big on dates and you didn;t have a set anniversary date as your relationship formed over time, neither one of you feeling the need to mark any one day as your official anniversary. “So we are going on ten years. But we’ve known one another since we were seven” 

“Wow,” is all Ingrid says, seemingly deflating in on herself, turning away from the two of you to take a large drink of the beverage she had in front of her. 

“It really has been ten years huh,” You exclaim softly, your hand going to take hers. 

“And yet still no ring on it,” Marta says suddenly, her eyes bouncing between the three of you sat across from her and Caro. 

“I don’t see a ring on Caro’s finger do you,” Mapi asks back, turning to you and Ingrid for confirmation. You shrug in agreement, while Ingrid seems to have drawn into herself not even noticing that Mapi had asked a question. 

“No, I don’t see one, maybe get on that Marta.” You quip back with a soft laugh, as Caro turns to also mockingly stare down Marta the woman suddenly on the hot seat. 

Ingrid’s POV

Of course she’s with someone, of course she's with HER. The two of them make sense together. Their artsy, funny, they balance each other so well. With Mapi’s loud extraverted ways and Y/N’s more quiet introverted personality. The two of them slotted together perfectly, how could Ingrid ever think differently. 

“Ingrid you okay?” Caro asks, snapping Ingrid out of her thoughts, The group sat at the table staring at her in wonder. Ingrid hadn’t realized she had been so zoned out, the light buzz from the alcohol making it feel as though time was moving at a pace slower than a snail. 

“I’m fine,” Ingrid mumbles, running her hand down her face in hopes of shaking herself out of whatever funk she has gotten herself into. 

“Are you feeling good?” Y/N asked gently, placing her hand on Ingrid's knee. The contact causes a blush to form on Ingrid's cheeks, the butterflies in her stomach an unwelcome guest. Especially after finding out that the women in front of her were a couple, both completely unattainable by her. 

“I think I'm going to head out, I have to walk home and I'm starting to get a headache.” Ingrid responds, turning to grab her bag. 

“Oh you walked here?” Mapi asks, leaning around Y/N to look at the dark haired woman. 

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to getting a car yet,” Ingrid sighs, standing to leave. 

“Wait,” Y/N says, grabbing Ingrid's hand. “We can give you a life.” Ingrid halts for a moment, the warm feeling of Y/N’s hand wrapped around hers making her anxiety skyrocket. Looking over to Mapi, hoping deep down she will say no. 

“Yeah, Ingrid we can give you a ride we need to be heading home anyway.” Mapi insisted. 

Ingrid takes a second to think over the offer, was the lack of a walk home really worth being in a car with not one but two extremely attractive people. Two extremely attractive people who are together, two people who Ingrid wishes she could be with. “Um, sure, a ride would be nice.” The idea of an hour-long walk being worse than riding in a car with the two of them. 

Ingrid watches as Mapi and Y/N make their way around the room hugging some of the others goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Caro asks as she stands to hug Ingrid goodbye. 

“Yeah, of course.” She responds, leaning into the comfort of her longtime friend. 

Ingrid follows the pair out of the restaurant, the two of them appearing so at ease with one another. They had clearly spent many years together, the way they just knew what the other was going to do without any words spoken between the two of them. She quietly slips into the backseat behind Y/N, tucking herself into the corner. 

“So, where are we taking you?” Mapi asks as she puts the car in drive pulling away from the illuminated restaurant. 

“I’m just in the team apartments.” Ingrid responds quietly letting her eyes drift close. 

“Wait… really,” Y/N says whipping around in her seat to stare at Ingrid causing her to snap her eyes open in surprise not expecting any reaction let alone that one. 

“Yeah, why?” Ingrid asks hesitantly, slightly cracking open her eyes to watch the woman in front of her. The woman who now has her body contorted around to be able to watch ingrid, a mild look of panic clear on Mapi’s face as she places her hand on Y/N’s thigh hoping she will eventually seat herself. 

“We live there too,” Y/N declares with the most confidence she has had the whole night speaking English. “We should… all spend time… together,” Y/N’s bright smile makes Ingrid feel just a little more comfortable in the couple's presence. “Would that not be fun Mapi?” Y/N asks, finally turning back around in her seat. 

“It would be very fun my love,” Mapi responds, looking over at the woman with a soft smile. “That’s if Ingrid would want to.” Mapi says, putting the ball fully in Ingrid's court, yet deep down she knows the only answer is of course she would. The two women in front of her fascinate her on a level she hasn’t experienced in years. Part of that scares her but another part of it thrills her. 

“I would love to spend more time with you both,” Ingrid declares after a moment, her own smile growing as Y/N begins to ramble off in Spanish, what she can only assume is all the things that she would be planning for the three of them to do. 

When Ingrid had accepted the offer to spend time with the Spanish couple she hadn’t expected how much the two of them would be a part of her day. The majority of the time it was dinner after training, sometimes with Y/N sometimes without her as she would be away with the mens team. When that would happen Mapi would be sure to get her on facetime at some point in the night so that Ingrid could work on her Spanish and so Y/N could work on her English, the two of them making a point to talk exclusively between those two languages. Ingrid found that overtime she sought out the pair, whether it be finding Y/N in her cubicle during breaks in training needing some quiet time away from the team. Oftentimes being found by Mapi when training would start up again, other times she would seek Mapi out in the lunchroom avoiding her normal table that consisted of Caro and Frido. The pair always sent her looks of concern as she would sit down with the blond Spaniard, they both knew of her growing crush on Mapi, they both knew Mapi was also very much taken. What they didn’t know was that Ingrid's crush wasn’t just on Mapi, it was on Y/N as well. Something she would never admit to them. 

“Will you be joining Y/N and I for dinner tonight?” Mapi asks quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to them in the overly crowded lunchroom as Ingrid takes a seat next to her.

“I will if you both would like me to,” Ingrid replies, poking at the salad that sits on her plate. The food no longer appetizing now that she is thinking about the dinner Y/N was bound to make. 

“We would, we actually have something we would like to ask you tonight.” Mapi whispers, looking over at Ingrid, her eyes soft, not wanting to stress her out more than necessary. 

“Oh you do,” Ingrid quips back. “If you guys want me to get my own car you don’t need to feed me to ask me.” 

“I promise we have no issue with giving you rides,” Mapi remarks as she stabs her food in front of her. No longer looking Ingrid in the eye. A soft blush forming across her cheeks, for what reason Ingrid doesn’t know. “Y/N should be meeting us out front pretty much right after practice if that is okay with you.”

“Of course that's okay with me, I can’t wait to see what Y/N comes up with tonight.” Ingrid replies, placing a gentle hand on Mapi’s bouncing knee, the woman's sudden nerves being very clear to Ingrid. 

"Trust me, she’s come up with something very special.” Mapi says, resting her hand on top of Ingrids. 

Ingrid is very surprised by the spread Y/N manages to cook up in just a matter of hours after returning home from work. The baked fish and roasted veggies sitting in the middle of the table, with quinoa and a side salad in serving dishes off to the side. 

“What have I done to deserve the honor of getting this for dinner?” Ingrid asks as the three of them get comfortable at the table, the feeling of Bagheera weaving between their legs bringing comfort to the table. 

“Well,” Y/N starts, looking over to Mapi for reassurance. “Please tell us if we… got this very.. wrong. But we feel like you may have a… crush… on us.” Y/N stutters out, nerves clearly present on her face. Ingrid sits there, eyes wide as she swallows. Had she been so obvious, the secret she had been holding so closely being thrown on the table right in front of her. 

“I,” she stammers “I didn’t want to make either of you uncomfortable, I didn’t mean to if I did, I wasn’t going to ever act on it I promise,” 

“Hey it's okay,” Mapi cuts her off, Ingrids mouth snapping shut as Mapi reaches across the table to gently take her hand. “We feel the same way.” 

“What? What do you mean?” Ingrid asks, a look of panic clear on her face. 

“We like you too,” Y/N says softly, not wanting to overwhelm the woman in front of them. 

“We wanted to see if you felt the same,” Mapi reassures. “If you would be open to it we would like to take you on an actual date, all three of us.” 

Ingrid sits there stunned, she had never expected to be called out on her crush let alone having it reciprocated. Not by one but both of the people, she had never even thought it was possible that both of them would like her let alone want to date her. She hadn’t ever thought of a relationship with either of them let alone both of them. Would she be able to balance a relationship with more than one person, deep down she knew she wanted both of the people in front of her but did they truly both want her back. 

“Really? All three of us, date?” Ingrid asks bluntly. 

“Yes, only if you would be open to it. We have both felt this attraction and we have talked about it extensively and if you would be willing to try we would be happy to as well.” Mapi declares, having taken over the conversation for her and Y/N. 

“I would be willing to try, only if it’s truly something you are both open to.” Ingrid responds, sure she was hesitant but how could she say no when the best outcome was a relationship with two of her favorite people. 

“We are both very open to it, we know there will be a lot of changes but we are willing to work on that with you.” Mapi says, squeezing her hand gently. 

“Okay,” Ingrid breathes out. “Where are we going?” A large smile spreads across her face as she looks at her two favorite people in front of her. Sure this would be a change, a big change but she was willing to see where it would go.