#what's so frustrating is that up until like a week ago it was always warm in my office

[woolandcoffee]

Shamelessly wearing socks and sandals around the office because the air conditioning in this building is so cold that my toes are freezing but I couldn't be bothered to wear shoes that I couldn't slip on. Y'all, the struggle.

[minarinnn]

“notice me”

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader (pt2 here)

content/trigger warnings: fem! reader, doesn’t follow the plot of tlt!, mentions of smut, sexual tension, manipulation?, groping, reader making luke jealous

a/n: the show has once again sparked up my love for the percy jackson book saga and charlie bushnell has me weakkk ughhh.. i normally don’t write for pjo characters but oh well, lmk if y’all want a continuation of this or just more luke castellan in general ;)

you had always been so used to being the center of attention. as a daughter of aphrodite, you had always been the most popular girl in school, and there was no shortage of boys falling for your charms

arriving at camp half-blood didn change that, nothing was different. except that, for the first time in your life, you found yourself chasing after the attention of a certain boy. luke castellan, the son of hermes and the head counselor of his cabin, he just wouldn’t fawn over you like the others would. despite your best efforts, luke had always remained indifferent to your constant flirting, leaving you feeling frustrated and determined to change his mind

you found yourself spending every waking moment trying to get his attention, trying to find some way to charm him and make him see you the way the other boys did. but no matter how hard you tried, luke remained distant and unimpressed

this week you were extremely busy, you were helping out in the infirmary, one of the apollo kids who usually worked in the infirmary had been sent on a quest and you were asked to fill in until they came back. juggling that with all your other responsibilities as counselor had you beyond occupied

during that week, annabeth barged in with two other guys; percy and luke. apparently their sparring session had gone a little out of hand and they were both injured

luke was already aware of how you’ve been trying to get his attention these past few years. he actually seems to quite like having you, the most fawned over girl at camp, fawning over him instead. he liked the attention you gave him, though he knew that if he ever gave in to your charms you would stop, so he didn’t

he was fully prepared and expected you to be the one to tend to him, so when he sees you head to percy and tend to him while an apollo girl tended to him he was confused

what happened? why would you choose percy over him? we’re you tired of him? did you give up on trying to win him over? luke’s confusion quickly turned to frustration, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched you tend to percy’s wounds

"how are you feeling, percy?" you asked, giving him a warm smile, one that always had the boys weak in the knees. "n-not great, but i’ll manage" he laughed awkwardly, suddenly nervous. you put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze "oh, i’m sure you’ll live”

out of the corner of your eye, you saw luke. he was watching you, watching the way you cared for percy. this was the first time you had ever caught him staring at you with such intensity

so you’re plan was working. you had tried everything to get his attention and you had only one trick left in your arsenal; jealosy. no boy is immune to jealousy, and that was exactly how you were gonna get him

in the end, all you had to do was throw some water at percy and he was good to go. luke though, he had to spend the night in the infirmary

the other apollo kid had left a few minutes ago, something about ‘having other things to do’. so it was just luke and you in the infirmary. you walk over to luke's bed and start tending to his wounds

“oh so now you wanna take care of me? how nice of you” he speaks, sarcasm dripping from his words. “you can tough it out, can't you?" you tease, dabbing away at his cuts with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. luke is watching you intently and you can feel the tension in the room increasing, his eyes fixated on your hands as you work

luke’s eyes narrow, and you can see the rage boiling beneath the surface. he’s frustrated, jealous, and he doesn't know what to do with all these emotions. you’ve never seen him like this before, and it's a thrill to know that you have the power to make him feel this way

you try to ignore the tense atmosphere in the room, focusing instead on luke's wounds. you finish cleaning and bandaging the cut on his wrist, holding it up to your face to land a soft kiss on the bandages. “all done” you whisper. he tenses at the feeling of your soft lips, and you can see the anger in his eyes. however, you can also see a hint of something else— desire

you look up at him with a smile, knowing that you've got him right where you want him. his eyes are locked on your every movement. you know that you have him wrapped around your finger, and it's a delicious feeling of power

luke’s expression is one of confusion, a mix of rage and desire. he wants you, and he wants to hate you at the same time. it’s a weird combo, but it's working for you.

you lean closer to him, your lips inches away from each other. you can feel his breath on your skin, the heat of his body as he's lying there

"you’re not stopping me" you state, breaking the silence. it’s a quiet, soft whisper, filled with a tiny bit of amusement

"maybe.. maybe i don’t want you to stop" he says, his eyes locked on yours, voice low and husky. you can see the desire building in him, how his gaze trails down to your lips

luke’s breathing quickened, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. he knew that this was a game for you, a game where you would always be determined to win him over, but now, in this very moment, he felt like he was losing

he lets out a hiss of frustration, of desire, of... something. he’s sure knows that you're proud of it, but he’s not quite sure what to do about it

you leaned in for the kiss, your lips pressing gently against his, your hand running through his hair. you could feel his body tensing, his hands gripping your waist as he attempted to pull you on top of him

you pull away from the kiss slowly, your lips still pressed to his. luke is still trying to catch his breath, his eyes fixed on yours, searching for any hint of what your next move will be

"not bad" you whisper. "you’re playing a dangerous game here” he chuckles lowly, making your lower regions throb. you smirk softly and brush his hair out of his face “i’ll take my chances”

despite being injured, he pulls you on top of him, making you realize just how hard he’s been this whole time. his eyes are dark, and you can see the lust burning within them

you lean in for another kiss, this one soft and gentle. luke groans when he feels you grind against him, his hands moving down to grab hold of your ass

“i need you s’bad” he mutters out. you smirk as you slide off him, making him furrow his brows in confusion. you land a soft kiss on his cheek. “let’s do this when you’re not injured” you whisper in his ear. now he was alone and hard in the infirmary, how nice

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[fever-fluff]

Take my Hand

Synopsis: Azriel really wants to hold your hand, but he's afraid that he'll hold it too tight.

(I've been obsessed with writing something that focuses on Azriel's hands. Because of how it was too late to save his hands when his brother's burned him, I'm wondeirng if he ever had to relearn things when they finally healed himself.)

Word Count: 2k(Not Proof Read)

Sometimes he had wished he had burned in the blaze of heat centuries ago, that the months of relearning how to make a fist with his fingers and then splay them wide again hadn’t tunnelled itself so far into his memory that he could still feel the anger, pain and frustration of not being able to do what infants could. But the years had rolled on, one into another and even with all the Illyrian healing in the world, Azriel would never be able to go back to a time where his hands were just… hands.

He was supposed to meet you today, outside the little bookstore you and Nesta frequented so many times you knew it better than your own rooms. That was an hour ago. But the pains that sparked from his fingers up through his arm had left him twitching so uncontrollably that he couldn’t even lift the cup from its saucer this morning without the tea sloshing over the sides.

He could hear Madja’s hum of disaproval in the back of his mind as he changed his hands from the almost boiling water in one bowl to the icy cold in another. He’d been slacking on the regiments she’d given him all those years ago. With the dexterity he needed to wield his blades, Azriel was supposed to vigilantly keep up with the hot and cold baths and rigorous stretches and ointments so he wouldn’t lose their complete cooperation, but in the past few months he’d avoided them to no end.

If he were being honest with himself, it had started much earlier than that. Seeing so many round him now that didn’t fail in menial bodily functions had left him feeling lesser than, so he’d reduced his routine week by week, then day by day, until he’d relied solely on what his body could do to stop his hands seizing up. What an idiot he was.

The twitching had finally ceased, but his hands had locked into a half-made fist and he grunted with frustration, asking the house to send a bowl of melted wax so he could attempt to bend his fingers back to where they should be.

Submerging one, he began to think of you. Had you left? Or were you still standing outside the sage green door with the potted plants littering the entrance, wondering if he’d stood you up? It had been too long for you to think he was running late, and he cursed himself to Hel.

He’d imagined your first outing over and over again since you’d said yes a week ago. How he’d fly down to you, no Illyrian leather in sight, instead complimenting your dress his shadows had described perfectly with the slacks and shirt he’d chosen after tearing at his hair all morning. He wouldn’t bring any flowers, remembering your distaste for uprooting harmless fauna and instead he’d offer you something hot to drink to keep you warm in the crisp air of the afternoon. You’d smile and thank him, asking if he was ready to go inside and he’d grab you hand, giving it a kiss as he hummed his yes. He wouldn’t let it go the entire time you scanned the bookshelves. Until you’d finally begin choosing your reads for the coming days and he’d offer to carry them for you, holding them securely imaging it was you instead. Once you were finished, he’d hold the bag of books in one hand, while reaching with his other and lacing your fingers together. The day would carry on much the same, and his hands would always be there, either at your waist or your own, always making sure you were still by his side – that he was not imagining any of it.

But that’s all it was in the end – his imagination. His hands were no good for soft touches. He was always grabbing things too lightly or too tight, never just right. They showed him for the brute he was, that he was not meant for delicate things like you.

Slowly bending the first of his fingers back, Azriel heard the slightest rap of knuckles on his door, and he announced himself before he even thought to check who it was. But the soft footsteps he had become so used to picking out over the rest of his loud family had his head snapping up to face the opened door and see you, a small smile on your face with sad eyes. “Is this a bad time?”

His wing barely missed tipping the bowl of wax on the floor as he spun to face you, hiding it and his once again shaking hands behind his back as he called your name in surprise. Shadows flitted around him, making for your figure in the door and swirling at your feet. Their movements displaced the fabric of your dress, the skirt of it flowing with the black tide. You looked so much more than beautiful, blowing whatever his imagination had conjured up earlier out through the open window. All Azriel could find himself thinking of was how soft you looked when you filled the stretching silence once again with your voice. “I was worried. You didn’t show and I thought Rhys might have called you away. But when he said he hadn’t seen you since breakfast, well… I really didn’t know what to think.”

“I -” Gods, why did his own words have to fail him now? “I have no excuse for leaving you to wait. I’m sorry.”

You nodded, “Apology accepted. But Az, if you didn’t want to join me this morning, you could’ve told me. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had no choice but to hide away in you ro-”

“I wasn’t hiding! I – I wanted to come, truly, I just…” Azriel sighed as he placed his hands back in front of him, the shaking and curling fingers on full display in front of you. “I’ve tried everything, but none of it’s working. I just, I wanted today to be perfect, but I should’ve known it would be me that ruined it.”

There was no gasp of surprise as he’d imagined when you inevitably found out about his lacking. Only Rhys and Cass were privy to his condition, Feyre, her sisters, even Mor had been left in the dark for years now on his request. But you had slowly walked toward him and now reached for his hand to peel the hardened shell of wax back, dropping it into the rest.

Guiding him to the bed, he sat and watched as you silently picked up vial after vial of oil on his dresser, putting them down as you read each label until you found what you were looking for.

He said nothing as you tipped some of it into your hands, rubbing them together to warm them after being out in the biting cold for an age, all thanks to him. You reached for his, only stopping to ask him a simple ‘may I?’ before he agreed, and you took his right hand in between your delicate fingers.

Slowly, you pressed and kneaded the aching skin and muscles, setting the fingers that refused to move back with careful movements. It was tediously long, one of the treatments that he avoided almost all of the time because his own could never fix the problem. But you never complained, never tired from the repetitive nature of it once. When the shakes had finally eased, and his fingers could once again flex and move with little stiffness, you moved to his left; using the same care and diligence on it as you did the first. It must have been a couple hours before you finally retracted your hands from his, resting them in you lap as you smiled up at him. “There. Any better?”

Azriel felt the first drop hit his cheek and roll down until it fell, the rest soon following. “Where did you learn to do that?” He couldn’t tear his eyes form yours, even when his vision blurred from the tears. You had done something no one ever had. After everything he had done – leaving you to wait, sending no word of why, then sitting here with you like a buffoon as you tended and cared for him as no one else had. How could you still look at him like that, with so much warmth?

You blushed under the question, “I asked Madja to show me, in case you needed help when no one else could do it.”

He bristled, no no no no no. “Did Rhys tell you? Did Cassian?!” He’d kill them, he’d kill them both for putting you here. But you waved you hands in denial of his words. “No. No! I – I just thought that it would be something you might need… you know? I know that Illyrian healing is one of the most potent there is, so for your hands to be so scarred, I just thought that maybe it wasn’t all surface level…” Your voiced had filtered out as you finished explaining, but Azriel couldn’t even believe the words that had reached his ears.

You had gone to Madja, or your own choosing, to ask for something no one else had thought of in the time they had known him. “You did this for me?”

“Well, yea. You’re always taking care of me. I just wanted to take care of you sometimes, because I know its nice to receive it. So why shouldn’t I return the fav- ”

Azriel hadn’t even let you finish before he’d moved to place his lips on yours, stealing the intake of breath you’d taken in surprise. He was right, you were soft, and delicate, and just, everything. He moved his now still hands to hold you as he wanted to this afternoon – wrapping one round your waist as the other placed itself to cup your neck. You preened as he pulled you closer, legs tangling slightly and your own hands, the ones which had cared for him so wonderfully, reached for the front of his shirt and pulled on the fabric to bring him impossibly closer. You were incredibly open to him, inviting everything he gave you with warmth and just as much delight as he did. it was impossible to pull away from you, and even as he gained the strength to do so you had chased his mouth with a slight nip to his lower lip. His hum swallowed by you, tongue teasing the seam of his mouth until he opened up just as much as you had, and he became engulfed by you once again.   

This time it had been you who pulled to break away from him. He forced himself not to follow as you had done earlier, opening his eyes and finding yours already looking at him. Your cheeks had flushed, and he noticed that somehow you had come to sit on his lap, legs tossed to the side while your dress pooled around you both. He supposed he looked no better, even less so with the grip he had on your waist and neck. But you didn’t seem to mind. Not at all as he worked the skin underneath in a silent apology to sooth whatever pressure he had inflicted.

“Thank you”

Your eyes closed at his words and touch, leaning forward to peck his lips one more time. “Anytime, Shadowsinger. Anytime.”

He should ask to redo your missed outing this morning, should apologise one more time for leaving you to wait. But with the way you had curled into him, Azriel pushed his thoughts back. He’d make it up to you later, he promised himself. He just wanted to hold you for a little while longer.

[sleepymarimo]

𝕨𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕤

summary: after becoming the greatest swordsman and learning of his bloodline, the next logical step for zoro would be to return to wano and marry into the kozuki family, right? if only you didn't look so good as a bridesmaid... pairing: zoro x afab!reader cw: mdni, vaginal sex, drunk sex, infidelity, cursing, mutual pining an: this idea has been in my head for a while, so... enjoy!

It's the day of the wedding.

Well, his wedding.

After being the world's greatest swordsman for a few years, Zoro had decided that he had wanted to return to Wano. He never explained why, barking at whoever asked him that it was none of their damn business. The crumpled up paper you'd found in the corner of the training room, which contained details about his lineage, gave you an idea of why he was adamant on returning.

The swordsman was someone you admired very much, from his sometimes frustrating temper to his unshakable will. After sailing together for so long, it was difficult to not develop feelings for him. You liked to think that the two of you were relatively close or at the very least that he tolerated your presence more than others. He never strayed too far from you and even shared his sake with you on occasion, his annoyed grumbles doing little to hide how much he enjoyed providing for you- even if it was just a sip from his bottle.

Your outlooks on life might have been different, but there was a lot to learn from one another. This learning was often done on warm nights aboard the Sunny after a few bottles of sake and a playful spar. Even when there were no conversations happening, you'd enjoy the comfortable silence and the sense of security he brought to you.

Yet, ever since he had achieved his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman, you had to admit that he seemed… different. He of course was as brash as ever, always ready to stand by the crew and act as a protector when necessary, but he seemed to be itching for something. He was lost, plain and simple.

Your mind, ever tumbling with thoughts, wonders what the green haired samurai's goal was in returning to Wano. To reconnect with his roots? To stay? You doubted he would, but the thought still made your stomach drop.

Now, a few weeks later, here you are at the wedding celebration of Zoro and soon-to-be-wife, Hiyori.

Celebration is an understatement, as the whole thing could be confused for a festival. An entire courtyard full of seats, all open to the people of Wano. Its extravagant and lavish, with vendors and performers ensuring that the party would last well into the night. The tables are piled high with a plethora of food and sake. Hiyori had wanted a grand ceremony and it was definitely something, though the large crowd and the unavoidable spotlight didn't seem like something Zoro would enjoy. After the bachelor party, which involved the guys drinking until they couldn't stand, Brook spilled to you and the girls that Zoro hadn't even been the one to propose. Allegedly, he was just going with whatever his teal-haired partner wanted, and she was happy to take over as long as she had the samurai by her side.

The whole thing didn't quite sit right with you, something gnawing at your chest. Jealousy? Worry? You weren't exactly comfortable bringing it up with anyone else, but judging by the knowing looks that Robin sent your way or how Luffy would gaze off to the side and pucker his lips at the mention of the wedding, you could tell that you weren't alone in your thoughts. While you would ask Zoro yourself, the way he responded to Luffy's meddling a couple of days ago has you hesitant to do so.

"But Zoro!" Luffy had whined, wrapping his limbs around the swordsman with a pout. "What about-" Zoro's words were spoken through clenched teeth, one of his calloused hands tightening into the fabric of Luffy's red kimono. "I dare you to keep talking."

Currently, you're chatting it up with Nami and Robin in the bride's quarters. The three of you are in the bridal party, getting ready for the celebration that is soon to be underway. As per Hiyori's request, the bridesmaids are fitted into navy blue kimonos that are woven from the softest material you've ever felt. Your hair is neatly styled and your makeup light as you help the other girls get ready for the wedding. Your chest tightens every time your eyes glance over at Hiyori, her radiant beauty and cheerful demeanor causing your confidence to waver.

The whole thing has you craving some alone time before you go out there and watch your vice captain be wed, so you stand from your mat and give Nami and Robin a small, slightly forced smile. "Hey, I'm gonna take a quick walk. D'you guys remember where that nice koi pond was at?"

Something flashes in Robin's eyes and she sits up a little straighter, giving you one of those smiles that you've come associate with trouble. She gives you directions, but they're a little all over the place and have you questioning every turn. You'd been wandering around the halls for a while now, sure that you were lost as you murmured some curses to yourself.

You're about to turn back altogether when you pick up on a familiar energy. It's Zoro's, of course it is, but there's something different about it. The closer you get to the groom's quarters, the more you pick up on the underlying currents of unease than emanate from his aura. Worry grows in your chest, as such levels of doubt and anxiety weren't usually present in the swordsman. The fact that he isn't even bothering to conceal these emotions is even more concerning, since you knew he had a very good grip on his haki.

One of your hands comes up to lightly knock on the sliding wooden door. You give a small greeting, telling him that it's you.

Zoro, who had been staring blankly at the wall with a bottle of sake in his hand, snapped out of his daze when he heard your voice. He quickly straightened up, his usual irritation returning to his face as he roped in the tendrils of unease that he had unintentionally let slip loose.

"What the hell do you want?" He grumbled, his voice a bit hoarse from the tension. He didn't bother to open the door, expecting you to understand that he wanted to be alone.

“Zoro…” You sigh, your tone laced with caution as you stand behind the door and make it clear that you won't budge until he confirms that he is alright.

"Seriously, I'm fine.” He replied, his voice strained. "Just leave me alone. I'll be out in a minute." His tone was defensive. Though he tried to hide it, he couldn't deny that the weight of the wedding and everything that came with it was overwhelming him. The anxiety and doubts were gnawing at him more than he cared to admit.

Before he could ask you to go away again, he felt a knot forming in his chest. He sighed, realizing that shutting you out wouldn't solve anything. You of all people could ground him, could be there for him when he was feeling things he had no idea how to process. It was a trait of yours he envied, your ability to show people warmth and empathy without a second thought. He needed that, needed you, needed every bit of you.

He finally slid open the door and revealed himself, looking disheveled and restless. His bandana on his arm was slightly askew, and the collar of his ceremonial kimono was tugged open, the belt loose. His green hair seemed even messier than usual, disheveled.

"What the fu-" Your eyes widen and you quickly enter the room, sliding the door closed behind you. The sight of him makes you raise your hands up to help, but they remain suspended in the air as you ponder where to even begin with him. The smell of sake is strong, his posture tense and his eyes slightly blown from the copious amounts of alcohol that's in his system.

“I don’t- Zoro, what’s going on?” You ask, your head tilting.

A light sigh tumbles past your lips as you tug his kimono closed, scrambling to soothe out any wrinkles and make him slightly more presentable. Where were the rest of the groomsmen? Grumbles are all you hear from him and it doesn’t make the process any easier. After you attempt to smoothen out his hair, he scowls and ruffles it up again.

“This whole damn ceremony.” He growls, shaking off your hands and turning on his heel as he walks to the table to open up another bottle. “It’s not-“

A long sigh is heard from him, the sound rumbling in his chest. He takes a long swig from the bottle, wiping away the excess sake from his lips using the back of his hand. He shakes his head and turns back to meet your gaze, taking a few steps forward until he’s in front of you. When he speaks, his tone is stern but forced, like he’s putting in effort to remain calm. “I’m not sure this is what I want.”

His admission leaves you momentarily stunned as you try to make sense of his words. Your hands fidget at your sides, your voice laced with concern. “The wedding? Hiyori?” His state ignites something within you, an overwhelming urge to comfort him in any way you can. "I thought you wanted to come back to Wano."

“Both.” He confesses, spitting out the word like it was made of poison. “And I did. I’m just, damn it, I don’t know! I'm already the greatest swordsman, so I should be out here and doing all this domestic shit, right? Coming back to Wano like my ancestors would've wanted? Marrying into the damn Kozuki family?"

The pieces slowly come together. A swordsman who has accomplished his dream and is unsure of what goal to chase next. On paper, it sounded ideal, like a fantasy that only one in a million could achieve. Yet, Zoro is restless and unable to feel at ease. He's taken to following expectations in a bid to fill the small gap of emptiness that came with establishing himself as the strongest swordsman, a title he fought for almost his whole life. Now that he had completed it, he struggled to find purpose, to find a use for himself other than being a fighter.

His frustration is clear, from the way his jaw tenses to the rigidity of his stance. He’s itching to release his emotional tension, his body twitching in anticipation. It's like watching a caged animal. You’re silent for a moment and sense that he has more to say. He huffs and stares down at you with an almost unreadable expression, the distant sounds of the celebration barely audible through the wooden door.

His mouth opens, before he quickly closes it and clenches his teeth together, looking away. Red tinges his cheeks, from the alcohol or something else, you cannot tell.

“Can I try something?” He asks with only a slight slur, stepping closer. His voice is low and gravelly, his eye shining with a drunken determination that hides something you can't pinpoint just yet. “To see if I’m doing the right thing? With the right person?”

You release a breath that you don’t even know you’re holding, nodding slightly. You’re unsure of what to expect, but there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your crew, especially Zoro.

“Yeah.” You affirm, your voice a bit more timid than you would’ve wanted as you feel the heat radiating from his body into yours.

He grunts in acknowledgment, his eye assessing each and every one of your movements. For a few seconds, he doesn’t do anything. As you’re about to open your mouth, he brings a hand up and places it at the nape of your neck.

You don’t even have time to ask him what he is doing before he brings his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter closed, nails digging into your palms as they tighten in response to the sensation.

It was wrong, wasn’t it? Here he was in his groom’s attire, his own wedding ceremony about to be underway. You should be pulling away, stopping him from betraying the woman he was set to marry within the hour.

Yet, when his tongue swipes across your lower lip, you part them without question. He groans. His other hand finds purchase on your hip, rubbing circles on the sensitive flesh there using his thumb. The sake from his tongue fills your tastebuds as he eagerly explores your mouth, drinking in the taste of you as if it were his own brand of liquor.

You couldn't resist him even if you tried, your hands sliding under the collar of his kimono and gliding along the skin of his shoulders and chest. He melts under your touch and takes this as a sign to bring you closer to him, eliciting a gasp from your lips when you feel his already half-hard cock rutting against your tummy.

A string of saliva tethers you two together when you finally pull away, your face hot as he stares down at you with a possessive affection. His gaze shifts from your eyes to the rest of your form, your figure accentuated by the kimono that hugs you.

The effort he puts in is minimal as he wraps his arms around you and raises you off the ground, your hands tightening on his shoulders, though he wouldn't dare drop you. He lays you on one of the soft mats which adorn the groom's quarters, kneeling between your legs and lazily grinding his hips against yours. The sensation has your back arching and your panties dampening.

"Least Hiyori can do one thing right." He drunkenly groans as he continues to grind his dick against your clothed slit, his hands firmly gripping your thighs as he looks down at you. His words are slightly slurred, the lust in them more than apparent. "Gettin' you all nice n' pretty for me, wrapped up like a fuckin' gift."

You hiss and buck your hips to meet his thrusts against your core, your hands tugging at the collars of your kimono in a bid to find some reprieve from the heat that's coursing through your veins. He gets the idea and doesn't waste another second before sliding the fabric off of your shoulders.

His steel colored eye drinks in every inch of you, his hips jolting forward when his calloused hands cup your breasts and knead the soft flesh. Your whines only increase when his thumbs tease your hardened nipples, sending waves of pleasure right to your core. You catch sight of his tongue swiping across his lip before he leans forward and captures one of the pebbled buds into his mouth.

Your hands tangle into his green hair as you hold him there, his fingers lightly tugging and rolling at one nipple while his tongue swirls greedily around the other. The groan he lets out against your breast is desperate and hungry, his hips continuing to grind against yours. He's completely hard by now, and what you feel against your clothes has you thinking about how full you're going to be.

Its already too much and you swear that you're seeing stars.

Through pants, you manage to grab his free hand in one of yours and guide it towards your aching cunt. As soon as his hand slips past the waistband of your underwear, his fingers become coated in your arousal. They swirl just outside your entrance before coming up and messily rubbing at your clit, making you gasp and clench around nothing. When he finally slides a finger inside, your walls pulse around the sudden intrusion. He shudders, wondering just how good it'll feel around his cock.

He adds another finger, then another, every thrust and curl bringing you closer and closer to the edge. When he hits a particularly sensitive spot, you choke out a low moan. "There, there, there!" You cry, feeling your thighs starting to tense.

A low, guttural noise erupts from his throat at the way your pussy is starting to tighten around his fingers. He tugs on your nipple a little harder, his teeth grazing along the other. The sound of wet slaps echo throughout the room and its downright dirty, only increasing your desire for him. Your pupils are blown when you look down at him, his ceremonial kimono making him look unbearably handsome. He makes for one hell of a groom.

When you gasp, he gives your nipple one last lick before gazing up at your face, eager to see you come undone. "C'mon dollface, give it to me." He gruffly orders, curling his fingers just a little more.

You only babble his name before everything gets hazy. Your walls clamp around him and your hips buck desperately into his fingers. The waves of pleasure cascade down your whole body and in the midst of it all, Zoro leans forward and captures your mouth in his. He eagerly swallows all of your moans and cries, continuing to thrust his fingers into you until he deemed it necessary to stop.

Satisfied by the blissed out look on your face, he tugs off his hakama and frees his cock from its confines. He gives it a stroke or two to relieve some of the tension, before he aids you in shedding the rest of your kimono.

He settles once more between your thighs. His eye is fixed on the wetness pooling in your core, his hand lazily guiding the head of his cock up and down your slit.

“Been thinkin’ about this pussy for way too long.” He growls, positioning himself in front of your entrance.

His tone has you whining, your hips gyrating in a way that has his tip slipping into your cunt. The action has him groaning, his patience finally snapping as he buries himself inside of you to the hilt.

The stretch is mind blowing, your hands coming up to his biceps and squeezing the taut muscles in an attempt to ground yourself. Your body reacts to the sudden fullness by clenching tightly around him, the spasms only serving to heighten his pleasure. The grip he has on your hips strengthens and you’re sure it’ll bruise.

In his drunken state he wastes no time, his hips hammering into yours with utter desire. His breaths are heavy as he stares down at you, enamored by how your mouth hangs open and how you cling to him so desperately.

Your back arches, hips angling in a way that has jolts of pleasure running up your spine.

“H-hah! Zoro!” You babble, your whole body hot with delight. His biceps feel like steel under your palms, the sensation making your head feel even lighter.

Your pleas spur him further and he tugs your body closer until your thighs rest snugly atop of his. He releases his grip on your hips, placing his forearms on either side of your head as his thrusts become short and forceful. The muscles in your legs tense at the new angle and you mewl.

The tip of his cock pounds into your cervix, making you let out a choked moan as the pain and pleasure mingle into one glorious sensation. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you bury your head into his neck. With a light head, you plant sloppy, open mouthed kisses onto the sensitive flesh there in an attempt to return a fraction of the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck!” A groan tears out of his throat and you can feel the vibration from his chest. “Takin’ me so well.”

A particularly sharp thrust has your breath hitching and your eyelids fluttering, your head falling back slightly. His cheek is pressed against yours, his skin cool and clammy from the thin layer of sweat that has formed on his body.

Your eyes lose focus and you pant helplessly. His earrings dangle in front of your face, the metal pieces clinking together in a rhythmic melody that rings louder than the wedding bells banging in the distance. “S-S’good!” You stammer, your grip on him tightening.

Another curse or two spills from his lips, his words grunted through clenched teeth. “Yeah? That right?” He smirks, absolutely reveling in your pleasured state, his core tightening as your body clamps around him in the most delicious way. You have him close, too close, and he doesn’t want this to be over just yet.

His cheeks are colored red when he sits up and pulls out of you. A whine falls from your mouth, pleading with him as you buck your hips for any sort of touch. Your thighs hang over his, while his frame towers over you. “M’not done with you, yet.” He roughly reassures while he brings a hand up to your thigh and rubs gentle circles.

He starts to run his other hand up and down his length, positioning the head of his cock right up against your puffy clit as he jerks himself off to the sight of you. Every stroke of his hand has your hips bucking in pleasure as his tip hits and swirls against you, the clitoral stimulation sending you spiraling. There’s not much to do other than writhe and babble praises at him as you feel your climax inching closer, his tip leaking precum right onto your wet clit. You feel another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil in your tummy ready to burst.

"C'mon!" You whine, your hips bucking as you look up at him with desire-glazed eyes. "Zoro, please! Wanna cum!"

He doesn't deny you, he never would, so he makes sure to keep hitting that spot until you're arching and mewling for him. The way your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open has his chest swirling with pride. Just as you get pushed over the edge, he makes his move.

Without much warning other than a low growl, he folds you in half until your thighs hug your chest and your ankles rest on his shoulders. His hands are secured under your knees, ensuring that you won't wriggle out of his hold. In this position, your pussy is presented to him beautifully and he sinks into you as you cum.

Your walls are still spasming, clenching when he pries you open with his cock. The gasp that leaves your mouth is akin to a sob as he brutally hammers into you, chasing his own high. The overstimulation is too much and you try desperately to wriggle from his hold, but its useless.

Yet, when your eyes catch a glimpse at his expression, his lustful gaze and reddened cheeks, you can't help but let him crack your knees open a little wider.

"Atta girl." He praises with a half smirk, his thrusts becoming short and erratic.

His grip on your knees tightens and he throws his head back, utterly consumed by how your plush walls are squeezing him. When his breath hitches and he grunts out you name, its not long after that you feel a hotness in your core. His cum coats your insides in bursts, the thick, white ropes pooling all around. Everything sounds more wet, more raw, as he continues to shallowly thrust into you, riding out his orgasm.

He finally lets your legs go and they tremble as they settle back down around his hips. When he collapses onto you, his skin is hot against yours. He rasps out some breaths, his back slowly falling and rising. You can feel his heart beating strongly against your chest, the sensation grounding you.

His body atop of yours serves as a sort of anchor, your thighs twitching as his hips continue to gently rock against yours. He takes a few deep breaths, his head turning to the side to catch a glimpse at you. Lazily, his nose nuzzles your temple.

“Fuckin’ marry me, woman.” He grumbles, his tone stern as his eyelids flutter closed. "You're the one I want.”

Of course, you can't say no.

In your post-coital haze, you can't help but wonder what mess is going to come from this, but Zoro has always had a way of calming your ever-racing mind. So instead, you sigh, running a hand through his slightly dampened hair as a corner of your lips quirk up into a half smile. "Can we still have cake?"

He snorts in an attempt to hide his laugh, saying nothing as he flips you onto him and gives your ass a slap.

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 1— For The First Time.

a/n: welcome to the Be My Baby series! i’m super excited to get started and work on this story! I’m thinking of publishing 2/3 chapters weekly if I can, but at least 1 will always come out. If additional ones are on the way i’ll make sure to update that on my upcoming post. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this lol. I will later and edit any details that need touching up. This is already a few hours late tho, so I want to go ahead and get it out.)

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, bed humping, fingering (r receiving), teasing, talks of shoe humping, spit play, talks of previous sexual encounters, brewing sexual tension, and masturbation (both)

warnings: allusions to heavy dom/sub relationship, talks of injury, Leah busting her ass at practice, Leah making a fool of herself when she’s in shock, flirty!Leah deserves a warning on its own so here you go, calling reader a bitch & slutty once in a dominating way, semi-public sex, almost getting caught by Alessia, Leah accidentally knocking you on your ass lol

synopsis: You've arrived to your first day at Arsenal; your new club for the foreseeable future as head Athletic Trainer. A new country with promises of a new start awaits for you...until a familiar face disrupts your plans and throws you head first into a whirlwind of emotions and actions.

word count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist: here.

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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The crisp air of Shenley lites a whispered chill to cover you as you step out of the taxi. You pay the driver, wishing him a good day as you collect your bags from the cab. A deep breath makes its way from your chest and out your lips, gathering your bearings as you finally start to make your way inside. This is going to be a fresh start in a place no one knows you– exactly what you need. No expectations to meet or lingering gazes on and off the pitch. No drama or gossip floating around or eating lunch by yourself. Things are going to be different here.

You take in the scenery as you approach the Sobha Realty Training Centre, your new place of employment. The building feels like it’s going to swallow you, the tall white walls reminding you of the hospital as a familiar churn starts to turn in your stomach.

Breathe. Everything is going to be fine.

Your hand comes up to open the door, but it’s pulled from your grasp. You look up, eyes meeting a warm smile and kind eyes. You relax at her appearance, and even more at her friendly approach, “Hi, I’m Alessia! You must be Y/N, I assume?”

You find yourself mirroring her smile, a hand coming out to shake hers. “Yes, it’s lovely to meet you, Alessia! Sorry I’m late– I got lost and then I just ended up taking a taxi….London is a lot bigger than I expected…” you trail off as you realize you're rambling. Embarrassment sinking in as you look down to the floor.

“You’re totally fine! I think we all got lost on our first day, haha. That’s why I’m here to show you around, this place is huge when you don’t know it. Now follow me, new girl!” and just like that, she’s showing you everywhere possible. She shows you the cafeteria, weight rooms, bathrooms, locker rooms, and just about every tiny place to hide if you need a moment to yourself.

“I don’t mean to sound rude– but shouldn’t you be out on the field training with the others? Showing me around can’t possibly be more important with the Euro Finals coming up,” you say as you arrange your med bag for practice. The rest of your things are now stored in your brand new Arsenal locker you were shown, your name enraged into the gold plate marking your future. She laughs at that, pointing down towards her ankle that you now see is wrapped up. “Sprained it a week ago, so i’m benched. Swelling is still up so Coach won’t let me play on it yet, not even at practice.”

A laugh now comes out of you at her frustrated tone near the end. “Well, I have to agree. Until the swelling and all pain is gone you need to let it properly heal. We don’t need you hurting it worse!”

You feel a shove to your shoulder at that, zipping up your pack as you turn towards her now.

“Spoken like the true new head AT! See you're falling into place here already,” You give a shove back to her shoulder. Careful to do it lightly and not push her off balance with her injury. “Ready to meet the girls?”

You let out a sigh before nodding your head, “If they're all as nice as you I think I’ll be just fine.” And then you two are off, Alessia leading the way to your new team. You can feel your hands sweating as you get closer to the field in sight. All the girls training, the coaches, the other medical trainers under your watch…it’s all facing you at once as the past leaves your mind step by step. Like the shedding of skin on a snake, you're letting your anxieties fall from you as your passion for the job kicks back in. Like a flicker of flame– just waiting to ignite higher.

Your confidence is gaining with every blade of grass that passes beneath your feet. You know you're good at this. Hell you’re fucking amazing at this. Not many trainers could switch clubs– let alone countries for said club, in the middle of a season and still be Head AT…but you are that good. No matter what might’ve happened in Barcelona, you’re going to make sure you thrive here in London.

Well that is until your eyes meet hers. It’s like the wind gets knocked out of your chest– hers quite literally. The blonde’s eyes stay on yours, a furrowed brow taking over her face as she keeps running blind. Until she smacks face first into the goal post at full force, bright hair tumbling to the ground in a loud, harsh collapse. Your feet work faster than your brain, running over and immediately separating her from the net. You’re assessing her body, eyes frantically searching for any blood, bruises, cuts, or abnormalities. Your hands come to her ankles, pressing down as you look up at her face. “Does anything hurt? Stay lying down right now, your adrenaline might be blocking it out!”

“I'm Leah!” It’s rushed out, loud and with a voice crack. Her wide eyes staring up at you as she snaps a hand over her mouth afterwards.

If her teammates weren’t laughing before– they definitely are now.

A blush overtakes your cheeks as you put an arm around her waist, hoisting her to stand up with you. She throws one of hers around your shoulders as she regains her balance. “I’m taking her to the Med Room! Want to be sure she doesn’t have a concussion!”

You’re practically dragging her at this point, racing to get somewhere private because what in the actual fuck. "I'm Leah," She repeats her words from the field. "Yeah, I fucking know that!" you snap lightly on her. Mind still racing as you drag her down the building for a more private place to fully speak without worry. There is no way this is happening! Not to you– NOT NOW!! You push the Med Room door open with your back, and sit Leah up on the bed as you finally create some distance between you two. An accusing finger launching itself towards her as you move back to the middle of the room, “SINCE WHEN DO YOU PLAY FOOTBALL?”

“Nice to see you again, too, darling,” She’s smiling at you. That same one that got you hooked in Ibiza and agreeing to spend three weeks with a stranger. You almost get lost in it again– but you start shaking your head. “Oh no! No, no, no– don’t you darling me right now! How could you not tell me your-” your hand comes to pull at the band around her arm, “CAPTAIN! Of one of the best teams in all of Europe? And after spending all that time alone together, really?”

“First of all, we are not one of, we are the best in the world– thank you. Second of all, I don’t remember us talking much when we were together, if I can be honest. My mind tends to remember the more important details,” she licks her lips as she says it, eyes racking over your body as she recalls the memories to her mind. “And third of all, I don’t exactly remember you telling me you’re the highest paid AT in the sports field, so I guess we both kept some secrets. Huh, darling?”

“You are insufferable," you say as you take out your tiny flashlight, checking the reflexes of her pupils with it.

“Oh but that’s not what you were saying during those few weeks we spent together.”

“Leah!” Your face scrunches up as your fists ball up at your sides. Giving her the best glare you can muster up.

“Y/N! Don’t do your face like that– it’ll get stuck,” a laugh breaks out of her mouth as she says it. Poking at your face to relax your muscles there.

“Can you be serious for like two seconds, this is bad!” You rub your hands down your face. Trying to relieve the headache starting to form between your eyes.

"Oh calm down, would you! No one knows, okay? I didn't tell anyone about our time together. I swear!" She sticks her pinky out towards you, and you somehow find yourself laughing back this time as you extend your own to interlock with hers. It's then you know you've messed up. Her skin lights yours up the same way it did a year ago— you two hidden away on the tropical Spanish paradise. Days were spent exploring the island and endless nights spent exploring each other's bodies.

You don't even notice how close you two have drifted until her thighs are closing in around your middle, trapping you against the medical bed and her upper body. Your face flushes as you freeze in place, brain already too fuzzy for you to register that you should pull away. You can’t stop thinking back now– flashes of memories whizzing by in your head as you zone out, eyes lingering on her lips subconsciously. She must think that’s an invitation, because after a few seconds one of her hands comes to the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. You kiss her back at first, chasing the spark that ignites from her lips.

But then you remember where you are, and more importantly why you are even here. You got to pull away, hands coming up to her chest to push and create some space. She doesn’t budge though, a tiny moan slipping from your lips as you remember the depths of her strength. She smiles into the kiss at that, and you take the opportunity to breathe the words out against her lips. “Le-Leah we shouldn’t be d-doing this. We c-can’t…”

Her other hand tickles the waistband of your shorts, a light chuckle vibrating her chest as she pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I’ll stop if you really want me to, but I think we both know you want this more than me. Don’t you, darling? Otherwise you wouldn’t be humping the edge of the bed like a bitch in heat.”

You look down, not even realizing how you'd started rubbing your covered cunt against the medical bed. Your hips stutter to a stop as you try to back away from the cot, embarrassment filling your body at her catching you red handed. A finger lifts your chin up as her eyes lock to yours, a chill running down your spine as you cling to her every move. She runs her hand still sitting at your waist down to your hip, slipping under your shorts as goosebumps break out across your skin from her touch. “Don’t get shy on me, now. Not after I’ve seen you cum from grinding on a shoe.”

“Okay! Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do it– no DEMAND it!” you move closer, pointing your finger into her chest now as you argue the claim.

“Mhm you’re right, Y/N…but you’re the one that did it. Got down on your knees,” she grips the hair at the back of your neck as she yanks your head back. “And rubbed your slutty pussy all over my Louboutins until you ruined them with your cum.” She brings her face down closer to yours, “Now open your fucking mouth.”

You do as she says, and you're met with a glob of her spit landing on your tongue. You swallow it before she even has to tell you, groaning out as you thank her for giving it to you. Her hand on your hip starts slipping around to your front after she feels you grinding forward again, giving you her fingers instead of the small spring mattress. You moan out as soon as they glide across your clit, an electric feeling breaking out across your body. You know this is wrong, and you’ll definitely chastise yourself later…but until then you’re gonna beg her to fuck you.

“Please give me your f-fingers! W-wanna cum for you, Le!” The distantly familiar nickname falls from your lips effortlessly and it fuels a fire inside Leah’s chest. She slides her hand farther into your shorts, instantly slipping two fingers inside of you at the start. Her palm is fitting your clit perfectly, and after a few minutes you can hear the squelching of your pussy from underneath your shorts. You can feel her curling, scissoring, and twisting the fingers inside of your cunt. Your legs are about to shake as you feel your orgasm start to build, moans increasing as your chest rises and falls faster. You can’t focus on anything other than Leah. That’s all your mind can think of: Leah, Leah, Leah…

Thank god she’s paying attention though. Because next thing you know she’s pulling her hand out of your shorts and pushing you back away from her so hard you fall on your ass. You let out a yell of shock as you go tumbling backwards, landing with a pretty loud thud onto the cold tile floor.

Before you can scream at her to explain what the fuck her problem is– the door is swinging open. Alessia barging in as she runs over to Leah. Stopping in her tracks as she almost topples over you. She comes to stop in a screeching halt, sticking a hand out to help you up. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?” She says as she drops your hand once you're back standing. “Well if you must know, Leah’s being stubborn and wouldn’t let me sit on the med bed with her because I’m benching her for practice until she gets her head checked by a CT scan.”

“YOU'RE BLOODY WHAT?” She screeches out at the realization.

“See she can’t even remember I already told her that! Definitely needs a ct,” you know you’re lying through your teeth…but fucking with Leah is too fun. No way you were telling her she’s benched when she had you on the verge of the first orgasm you’ve had…well, since the last time you saw her.

“What the hell even happened out there, Leah?” Alessia asks, a laugh busting out of her chest as she recalls the captain’s wipe out.

“I was lost in my head and just..oh god I’m never living this one down am I?”

“Oh god no! You should’ve heard the noise you made when you hit the pole– I've never heard that come out of a human being before, or any living thing for that matter!” She has tears welling up in her eyes now as she recalls the events.

You sneak out as the two blonde’s get lost in their laughs and conversation. The locker room is empty as you collect your things, humming a song under your breath as you make quick work of packing up. You’re walking out to the parking lot when you finally let yourself think of what just happened, fingers coming up to brush against your lips. You find yourself smiling, wiping it off your face when you notice. No, Y/N. Stay professional. This. cannot. happen again. Push it down.

You pull out your phone to order a new cab before a familiar voice grabs your attention. “I’m afraid there aren’t many cabs on this side of town at this time of night. I can give you a ride though. Only if you want, of course…But such a gorgeous girl as yourself? You really shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

You turn, forgetting the words you told yourself not even 5 minutes ago. Nodding your head before you fully process the request. You’re going to be alone in a confined space with her? FUCK. You folded quicker than a lawn chair for the blonde footballer not even 10 full minutes ago….Lord give you strength for this 20 minute drive.

She opens the door for you, holding an intense eye contact as she closes it as well. Her car smells like the leather seats and the piney notes of her perfume. A perfect mix that has you rubbing your thighs together, trying to dull the ache she never got to quell. She climbs into the drivers seat, setting up her aux before she's handing you her phone open onto her maps app.

You quickly type in your new address before the navigation is breaking through the speakers and leading you to your destination. The ride isn't awkward, filled with easily flowing conversation. You're so lost in it you don't even notice you've made it to your flat. Not until the gps is yelling out "Arrived at Destination."

You try to hide your disappointment as you grab your bags, saying a thank you as soon many questions hang in the air between you two. "Can I walk you up? Promise I won't make a move, just want to make sure you get inside okay." She throws her hands up in a defensive mode.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you push down the large part of your brain that is telling you to stop this dynamic. To kill it before it can manifest…but you don't listen to it. You let her take your hand as she walks you into your buildings elevator, and you let her kiss you soft and slow as the floors ding past you both. It's different from any kiss you've shared before, and that kind of scares you.

It scares you even more at your door, where she tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and kisses you like that again. She's kissing you like she has something to prove…you're not quite sure what that is just yet…but you sure as hell want to find out. The first time Leah blew into your life, it was at a time of transformation. It was brief but truly wonderful, and now the universe is sitting her right in fucking front of you for a second time.

She's the first one to pull away from your lips this time. A smile pulling at her lips as she ducks back in to steal one more peck, and then she's backing away slowly. Her hands pulling yours with hers as she tries to leave you as slowly as possible. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You can't help the smile you break out into at the gesture, looking down as you blush slightly from the innocent statement. She's playing with your fingers now, and you're trying to memorize hers for the foreseeable future. "Goodnight, Le. And thank you for today. Always the gentleman…when you want to be."

She pushes your shoulder at that, "Oi! I'm always a gent!"

You blush as you think more about the Ibiza trip, "I would beg to differ."

She genuinely laughs at that, picking your hand up to her mouth to leave a kiss on your knuckles. You say goodnight to each other one last time before she leaves down the hall, watching her disappear into the elevator before you go inside your apartment. You both don't know it yet, but you end up finding the same resolution to your problems tonight.

As you both lay awake drowning in endless thoughts of each other, you can't help but slip a hand into your shorts. You're rubbing at your over sensitive clit, imagining it's Leah as you work yourself up. You haven't had time to buy any toys since you moved here, but you don't need them right now. Not when she's got you so wound up from barely any touch.

Meanwhile the blonde captain is slipping her trusty vibrator between her legs to stimulate her clit, the pretty pictures she has of you from Ibiza currently being viewed in her hand. From the one of you being blind folded in her hotel bed to the one of you bent over the railing of her private yacht— she can't stop the new filthy images of you from popping into her head. She's got to have you again, and not just for sex this time.

Leah hasn't stopped thinking of you since the trip, mind clouded with day dreams of you two creating a life together. She's been laughing it off, thinking she's delusional because she'll never see you again…but that disappears when you come waltzing back into her life. She knows now she can't waste this second chance. No matter how long or what all it takes: Leah Williamson is going to make you her girl.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Stuck Inside From the Rain

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up (This was supposed to be short u-u)

You couldn't go home, not in this weather.

You had only planned to drop off a video game you borrowed from Bakugou, but the rain had hit so suddenly that there was no way you were going anywhere now.

What's worse, it was getting pretty dark out. At least Bakugou had a nice couch to sleep on...

"Oi!" Bakugou called out from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

Bakugou had fetched some extra ingredients so he could make food for the both of you. You both sat down at his dinner table, with your grilled chicken and peppers in front of you.

"Thank you so, so much for doing this, bestie!" you said. "I think this is the first time we've eaten together in your new home."

"That's not my fault. I invited you over last week. But you were busy with Kirishima..."

You scoffed at how he chewed his food angrily. "He's just a friend, Bakugou. I actually totally forgot about that until now. Are you jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous of some guy with shitty hair?! He's got nothing on me!"

"Then don't bring him up?"

"Don't go blowing me off for Kirishima and then I won't bring him up! How about that?"

"I'll be sure to give you all the attention you want this time, okay?"

Bakugou looked frustrated, but a bit pleased. "You better."

True to your words, you ranted and raved to Bakugou about the food, as always. Bakugou knew that if there was one way to get you to focus on him, it was through his cooking. He looked cocky as you basically monologued to him about your 5-star Yelp review of his food. He offered you the rest to take home as leftovers, because unlike that traitorous rat Kirishima, he found himself to be a considerate and compassionate soul who would never let you starve.

You wanted to help with the dishes, but Bakugou wouldn't let you lift a finger to do chores. The guy was treating you like a guest he personally invited, but you felt a little bit like a burden who invaded his evening out of nowhere (even though you knew he wanted you here).

The night grew colder as it went on, and you could tell even Bakugou was starting to get affected. You attached yourself to his side to warm him up, holding onto him because you knew he hated the cold. He let himself get a little lost in that moment, which was easy to do since nobody was here except for you.

"You're such a koala," he said. "How long are you gonna steal my arm for?"

"Bakugou, if you keep complaining I'm gonna let go."

"Fine, fine! Just walk a little faster with me, I need to get something from the living room."

Bakugou wanted to watch a movie with you, but first he fetched an extra blanket, hoping to drape it over the two of you while you sat on the couch.

"You didn't get your own blanket?" you asked.

"This was all I had! Don't hog the stuff, alright?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a burden. I'm just cold..."

"You're not a burden. Just get over here so we can share it. Properly."

He drags the blanket around both of your shoulders, bringing you two hip-to-hip.

"It's like we're kids again, huh?" you laughed. "If you had extra pillows, I would've made us a pillow fort."

"I'm too big for that and you know it. It'd just fall over."

"You're no fun. Did anyone ever tell you that you act like such a grandpa?"

"You've probably told me that at least 5 times now, yeah."

You two watched a movie together, some old action flick from long ago. You rested your head on Bakugou's shoulder, and over time he ended up curling one of his arms around you. You're engrossed in the movie, you thought it wouldn't be your style but the movements are mesmerizing! However, Bakugou's glancing over at you repeatedly, gauging your reaction.

As the movie continued, the night grows even colder, and you're retreating into Bakugou's chest for any semblance of warmth. It's easy to do since his Quirk keeps his body working like an oven. Bakugou's tensing up now, stiff and janky in his movements.

You yawned for the 15th time this hour. "Bakugou... I'm sleeeeepy..."

Your heart rate slowed and your eyes felt heavy, and you almost dozed off to sleep with the sound of the rain rushing down outside. Bakugou looked distressed, knowing that you two might fall asleep together for the first time. But you didn't want him distressed, you wanted him happy, because he was your Bakugou, even if it wasn't official yet...

In your sleepy state, you gave him a tiny kiss him on the cheek and then curled up to sleep against him. You heard him swearing up a storm under his breath, and he really went through the entire curse word dictionary as if you couldn't hear him at all.

Then, he kissed you on the forehead right back.

"Night, dummy," he said, his voice very quiet.

[sonotkari]

Overflowing

Danielle Marsh x Fem Reader

[ Synopsis ]

As best friends, you've been together since you remember, being there for each other's lives and special moments over these years but you slowly watch her slip away.

Angst | Platonic

[ Word Count ]

1.4k short again hihi :)) (not accurate since it got retouched)

[ a/n ]

(retouched a bit 24/09/18)

I wanted to explore writing so maybe this is kind of those experiment projects hehe >< small angst oneshot and I still haven't got the hang of writing so please keep that in mind! /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

Someone, somewhere out there, dis for u bae <3

You remember it like yesterday. The month of April. A hot sunny day. You were walking in the hallways, about to make a turn around the corner when you noticed her walking from the other direction, two girls each on the side as they linked their arms on hers, probably touring the girl around the school grounds.

Those slow-motion scenes in movies were unbelievable where they portray it like "the world stopped" but not until you met her gaze the moment you were passing by at each other. Feeling your heart beating in excitement, knowing that you finally met the "transferred student" teachers were talking about a few days ago. As you were also a transfer 2 weeks ago, you were curious but couldn't put up the courage to go and see her because you were shy. Too shy. But apparently, she was the opposite.

Feeling your arms being held out of the blue and yelping a bit, you turned around to your shoulder full of confusion. She was there, holding onto your arm, smiling brightly like a warm ray of sunshine.

"What's your name?" 

The two girls that were with her also seemed startled and confused at her sudden actions, gawking at both of you awkwardly stopping in the middle of the hallway. Feeling the stares of people as they passed by, you also felt your face heating up but somehow managed to mumble a name loud enough for her to hear. 

And that's how you became the best of friends with Danielle.

Everything after your small interaction happened like the speed of light. Moments you've spent with her made the connection stronger day by day, feeling that the two of you had to be together at all times, making you inseparable. Days became weeks and weeks turned into months as memories were made every second you had her by your side. Whether it was those pretend play at the park or chasing each other running at the school grounds, you loved spending time with her, feeling incomplete when she was not there laughing at the smallest things with you.

There were times that you got frustrated a lot with not being able to go home with Danielle because of how much you would constantly get into a fight with her sibling (you were very easily annoyed when they would tease you) You would often get jealous seeing the girl with her other friends and they would link their arms with Danielle. The same goes for her when you would go home with anyone other than her and it would cause a small fight but would always forget about it at the end of the day as the two of you would sing to your "theme song" while walking home after school.

All day every day, your time would be spent with Danielle always. From mornings when rushing to her classroom to greet "good morning" to between classes, going to her ranting about that one teacher who's annoying you a lot, till the end of school where you'd always stand by the gates waiting for her and walking her home. You weren't the type to get in trouble and didn't like the idea of it at all but when you were with Danielle, a little scolding, a little frown from those old wrinkled faces of teachers, a little disappointment felt like nothing but a joke. Because she was always there, by your side with you. 

Months turned to years and despite never being in the same class for who knows how long, the both of you would always find a way to make time for each other. Whether it was at the local park near Danielle's house or the small amusement park you two would often ride bikes to go to. She was always on your right, and you were on her left. As some years passed by again, you were making new friends and so did Danielle. It was never really hard for the girl because she always had the charm and humor and of course the kindness inside that attracted people easily. Not like your 8-year-old self who would've had jealousy burning inside her heart, you were happy for the girl. You knew how shy she was, making it a bit challenging to get to know people besides you and a few others. To this day you still don't understand how she had enough courage to pull your arm but regardless, you were very thankful for it. 

Things changed slowly when Danielle stopped going home with you and going with her new friends instead. It felt almost like nothing because you also had a group of friends to be with. But then it went to the point where she stopped asking to hang out. Always the one who had to ask and plan everything just so the both of you could spend time together again, you couldn't help but feel unease a tiny bit. Eventually, that also stopped somewhere and now you can barely even remember the last time you two hung out with each other. You were understnding. The girl had new friends she wanted to spend time with, and the same goes for you as well. From time to time, you'd pass by the hallways and talk to each other or make calls and texts, giving updates about the things happening around recently. 

But then everything changed upside down on the last day of the annual school trip. It's been 9 years since Danielle and you had encountered in that hallway back in grade school. Now in your second year of high school. After all these years of praying that you'd be in the same class as her, it finally came true. You were grouped with her other 3 friends from last year and it was a bit worrying since the four of them felt like a group and you were the odd one out. But you quickly brushed that thought off knowing that Dainelle was there and she'd be on your side after all. 

Oh you were wrong. 

You don't know how to word it out. 

Pain, Hurting, Betrayal, Disappointment 

Every word didn't seem right. 

Every word didn't seem enough.

While walking down the bustling road of the destination your group decided to go to, pairs were made, each walking alongside the other, and you?  There, in the very back alone walking like a shadow. Feeling like your existence was nothing else but complete air. 

Everything finally snapped inside you, feeling your heart drop the moment it became crowded and you got pushed off by tourists and several people, creating a bigger distance between the group. But never did once the girls nor Danielle looked back. You did your best to catch up but, all you saw was her bright smile, laughing at her new friends beside her as the 4 of them continued to walk off unknowingly leaving you behind.

How could you leave me here? 

What's on your mind? 

Why didn't you notice? 

Why won't you look at me? 

You know how I hated crowded places. 

You know how I get lost easily.

You know how I hated being alone. 

You know because you've been with me for 9 years now. 

You should know.

You should've known. 

Days turned to weeks, weeks turning into months after the school trip. You couldn't look at her the same, talk with her the same, heck you couldn't even smile her way anymore. Her smile shining brightly like the sun now, felt like a mocking gaze to you. Forcing yourself to look fine but deep down you feel like messing up the whole place in front of you, just letting all the emotions run over you. Every feature you liked about her now, felt like you wanted to scribble a black marker on top erasing everything instead. It was never a good feeling, looking at the back of the person you once loved dearly now, only hatred filling up your chest not even being able to look properly at them.

It's been 4 months since the both of you haven't talked. 4 months since you haven't looked her way. 4 months since and nothing, not even an inch of movement was made. You've now questioned yourself a lot more than you could remember, crying your heart out until there was nothing left to come out of your eyes. And now, finally, you've decided to let go. Let go of everything you both had between you. Easier said than done, you struggled a lot. Smiling as you have conversations with your other friends but constantly feeling the fear of thinking who's gonna be the next friend, the next person to leave you. Overthinking much more than you would and constantly breaking out alone in your room with no one to talk to since she was the one who'd get you the most. 

Things change, and we can do nothing about it. 

Just letting go, feeling lighter, and becoming filled.

Overflowing. 

dani's too sweet of a woman for this

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I read that "he holds the credit card above Engels head and tells her to only buy the necessities"... but what if she doesn't???

What if Engel just goes on a huge shopping spree and only uses his card. She's like, "You said you wanted to be the beard winner of the household anyway😇". And like she calls him her "sugar daddy" as a joke sometimes.

Ok this is from ages ago and got buried in my drafts, sorry!

König does not want to be called daddy :(( Or does he...?

CW: Smut 18+ only, daddy kink (?), flustered König

The shopping spree wouldn't make him angry. He wouldn't even be surprised: after all, that's what women do sooner or later if you give them your credit card. But rules are rules, and he has to take the card away for a bit now. He'll give it back when has to leave you again, don't worry, but it's on ice for now. He ends up scolding you softly, in the middle of the piles of all the new stuff you just showed him.

"I'll let it go this once, Engel. These are nice things you bought. But remember what I said: too much sugar is bad for you."

You look up at him like the most innocent being on this earth, clasp your hands together, and blink.

"But I thought you're my sugar daddy...?"

"Was... Was–What did you call me?" König almost chokes on his words.

"It's... It's just a joke," you try, not expecting a reaction like this at all. König simply scoffs and marches out of the room, credit card safely tucked away in one of his pockets. You can only look at his departing form, baffled and confused: König has never left you like this, like you just one-upped him.

He's on edge the rest of the evening and the better part of the night, too, tense and frustrated after his latest work patch and especially after you called him your sugar daddy. But that doesn't mean König doesn't seek comfort from you come nightfall.

And he always says you're lovely and cute when he makes love to you, even now when he's sweaty and slightly bothered, turning you around from position to position as if he's been away for too long and wants to feel all of you in one go.

"Am I your good girl...?" You whimper while looking up, doting and adoring while König is working you both into a frustrated release.

But the thing you can never get past is that he says you're cute.

He says it while his balls slap against you, while they get slick and slippery with your wet, he says you're cute when your cheeks pang with heat and your lips part, swollen and breathless, he says you're cute when he sees how your eyes can't even focus anymore because he's giving it to you so good.

"Of course you are," he coos back, "you're my good girl. My silly, sweet angel... Always so sweet for me."

He says you're good and sweet and cute, you're warm and make him so happy, how you're such an angel. And he holds your hand while he does it, kissing you while he destroys you with his cock, while you're breathless and brainless and about to cry and then, well... It just slips.

"Please, I'm gonna cum," you moan in his mouth, needy and about to break. "Please, please, please, daddy…"

He fucks up the rhythm of his thrusts, stopping only a few inches away from orgasm.

"Don't...call me that…!" He stutters through clenched teeth, all his tender cooings forgotten. Then he picks up the pace and loves you until you squirm on the bed, until you arch your back as you cum, helpless and wet and mewling around his cock. It's one of those orgasms that make you forget your name and his name too, your long moans and cries surely reaching even the neighboring houses where people are trying to sleep.

"You little–" he rumbles in your neck, still catching his breath. "What has gotten into you...?"

You don't know if König is pleased or furious when cums only seconds after you, balls pressed flush against you and weeks worth of longing shot inside you with a series of desperate grunts. He goes slack after that and collapses on top of you, sweaty and spent and powerful heart slamming against your ribs.

Poor man's world has gone off its axis twice this day, and you giggle a little, hugging him while he's there, still deep inside of you. You really shouldn't push it with your jokes, but you just can't help it. König is so easy to tease.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

an evened score

jake jensen x fem reader

part two of a helping hand

words: 1.3k

warnings: jake motherfuckin jensen, explicit sexual content so **18+ ONLY** pls and thank, guided masturbation, use of vibrator, dirty talk, brief unprotected sex (don’t do that), crying during sex, multiple orgasms… uhhh, i think that’s it? but let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: this one is for you @bigtreefest 🫡♥️ i have no excuse for this except for the fact that i’m whipped for this man and can’t stop thinking about him. not proofread so any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated 🥰 xo

❀ part one

“Jake, please.”

Your voice is thin and weary, nearly a whine, as your chest heaves for breath.

Time has ceased to exist and has left you to spiral into a mindless, pleasure filled haze. Yet, even in the midst of the overwhelming good you’re feeling, there hasn’t been a chance of following those tingly, sparkly sensations to completion. No hint of satisfaction yet.

Perhaps you created a monster when you offered to lend a hand to your sweet Jakey, all those weeks ago, when the two of you easily slipped into more-than-friends. He’d been so shy still during the first few weeks, always taking what he was given and only sometimes asking for more, until you sat him down and told him you liked when he asked for more, when he took more. After that, he got a little more confident. More assured.

And now, in the present, you’re putty in his hands. He’s got you in the same position you first had him in; your chest resting against his back, settled between his muscled thighs. Jake asked you to show him how you get yourself off and it sent a new type of thrill down your spine, so you eagerly agreed.

Oh, how naive you’d been.

“Keep going, baby, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs in your ear, his lips brushing the cartilage tantalizingly.

You do whine this time, needy and drawn out. You’ve got three fingers in your pussy, thrusting them at an uneven pace, face full of heat at the audible squelching sounds it creates. In your other hand is a small bullet vibrator that you’ve been lightly grazing on and around your clit, not wanting to put too much pressure on such a sensitive spot, especially when you’ve already come twice. You’ve been torn between begging to stop and begging for him to fucking do something already, especially since he’s—

“Just thinking about how warm you are inside,” he says, gruff, his chest rumbling beneath your back. “How your pussy squeezes me so tight. Never felt anything better in my life.”

As if it’s responding to his words, your pussy clenches around your fingers, and you bite your lip to hold back your whimpers. He’s been whispering all the things he wants to do to you, all the ways he finds you sexy, everything he loves about fucking you, and you’re reaching your breaking point. You can feel his cock, so fucking hard and pulsing at the small of your back, but he won’t do anything, fuck, you’re almost crying out of pure frustration. Your skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat as you struggle to keep your legs spread.

“I’ve had so many fantasies about you,” Jake confesses next, softer in this admission in a way that highlights his lingering trepidation of being so bold with you, but all it does is make you finally let out that whimper and have your head falling limply back onto his shoulder. “Wanna… wanna try so many things.”

“What—“ You stop and gasp when the vibrator hits such a perfect spot, body locking up before you force yourself to relax. “What kind of things?” you manage to get out several seconds later.

He hums, dragging his lips across your neck, stopping occasionally to lick and nip at it. “Thought about seeing how many times I can make you come on my tongue only, in one night. Thought about fucking you against the windows, so everyone could see how well I take care of you. Wanna bend you over the couch, or the counter, or any other flat surface so I can watch your ass bounce while I fuck you. Wanna—god, I wanna spank your beautiful ass and leave my handprint there like a fucking brand.”

His hands finally begin to wander your skin, his own breathing picking up as he voices his imagination. Your fingers have since stopped moving, mostly because your arm is tired, but also because everything he’s saying is making you lose your goddamn mind and you can’t focus anymore.

“Wondered if you could keep my cock warm in your pussy while I finished up some work. Or maybe in your mouth. You’d be such a good girl for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry, nodding and turning your face into his neck to desperately mouth at whatever you can reach. “Jakey, please, I need more.”

He coos, kissing your forehead. “Your fingers aren’t enough, are they?”

You shake your head and whine, because he’s right. Your fingers are nothing compared to his. They’re thin and kind of dainty, where his are thick and so good and long. But even his fingers don’t compare to his cock. Oh, sweet merciful jesus, his cock. You’d write and perform sonnets about it if you knew Jake wouldn’t combust from embarrassment.

“Okay,” he relents, “c’mon, you can have my fingers.”

The moment the words leave his lips you’re removing your own and lifting them to prod at his mouth, which he opens immediately. He groans, guttural and greedy, as he sucks every bit of your taste off of them. Yours still trapped between his lips, he wastes no time plunging two of his fingers into your dripping wet pussy, moaning when you flutter around them straight away. Your jaw slackens from the switch, hips fucking forward into his hand before you even register that you’re moving and your own fingers slipping free from his skilled tongue.

“Keep being good for me,” he instructs, “keep using your toy on your pretty pussy.”

Tears gather in your eyes when you touch your clit with the vibrating tip of the toy. It’s so much, too much, and it’s not nearly enough either.

“Jake,” you cry, bringing your knees up and fighting against the urge to close them.

“Look at you,” he muses, free hand gliding down your torso and back up to pinch and tweak at your nipples, then sliding downward once more to wrap around your hand and guide your movements, applying even more pressure to the vibrator that has you jerking and sobbing his name louder than ever. “So fucking perfect. Fantasy can’t hold a candle to reality, baby.”

Your tears spill over as you cry and beg and writhe, for more, for everything. Jake shushes you gently, curling his fingers inside you to rub incessantly at the spot that makes you sob pathetically, keeping those vibrations directly on your clit.

It’s sensory overload and your orgasm rips through you almost violently. Every bit of your being trembles and spasms, lungs aching as you sharply search for your breath, pleasure pulsing through you from the top of your head all the way down to your curled toes. The fingernails of your free hand dig into his meaty thigh as he coaxes you through the hardest orgasm of your fucking life.

It seems like it drags on and on and on. Your vision starts to go fuzzy and the noises pouring out of you become quieter and smaller, legs shaking as tremors wrack through your body. Jake continues murmuring sweet praises in your ear as he slowly stops moving his fingers and removes the vibrator. Like the strings of a marionette being cut, you fall back into his embrace, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Baby,” he’s whispering urgently, and the last functioning brain cell you have takes note of the way his hips are twitching upward into you, “baby, please.”

You hum softly in assent and he’s carefully, yet eagerly, scrambling to get you flat on your back.

“I’ll be quick, I promise, I just need you,” he mutters as he lines up his gorgeous, thick, huge, fucking perfect cock and thrusts inside. You let out a pitiful cry and he kisses you. “I know, I know,” he croons, setting up a rough pace from the start, “we’ll take a rest after this, okay? But then I have more plans.”

You’d hit him if you had the energy. You’d protest and call him an insatiable fucking monster… but you both know you’d be begging for him within minutes, so instead, you let him wipe away your tears and suck on his tongue while he fucks the breath out of you.

[m-writesstuff]

undercover - aaron hotchner

chapter 1

lying.

i like lying.

especially when it involves waking up next to aaron fucking hotchner.

we were undercover, playing as the stork killers next victims, jane and aaron hunter, a couple in need of a miracle, preferably one that came in the shape of a human baby. the killer, doctor james hader, who specialized in fertility, had been stalking us for the past three weeks after we visited his clinic, so it wasn’t really a surprise when i saw his white van parked across the street from our bedroom window. doctor hader was a very obvious stalker, which made me wonder if the two couples he had murdered before had caught on to the white van parked across the street for their houses.

i sigh, and get up to go make breakfast, just as a loving wife would do. yuck. so glad my bachelors in forensic science had led to being reduced to a stereotype. 

the bed is warm and seems to be enticing me to lay back down as i pull the covers off my legs and stand. i turn to look down at aaron in the bed, he seems calm in his sleep, it makes me smile. he used to look like that awake. calm and kind, but years of stressful cases while juggling the politics that come with the bau had turned him into a very serious man. we started working together 5 years ago, when i became the first woman on the team and unlike the rest of my co-workers, he seemed to actually respect me for more than my looks. we quickly became close friends, but we never seemed to hangout outside of work. now here we were, stuck together in a two bedroom/two bathroom in the fucking suburbs. it wasn’t that this life didn’t appeal to me. i just didn’t love the idea of relying on a man to provide for me. it made me feel trapped, but this was only my life until the case closes, which seemed to never come.

i reached the kitchen and begin getting out eggs, bread and a tomato. while the bread toasts and the eggs cook i cut the tomato into slices and divide them into two plates. soon enough i have a beautiful breakfast plated and i set the plates down on the table. aaron walks in at that moment, in a white tee and plaid pyjama pants. 

“thanks.” he mutters as he sits down. he’s not much of a talker in the morning. 

“you’re welcome.” 

we eat in silence. once he finishes, he takes my empty plate and begins washing the dishes while i shower and get dressed.

“he was here.” i say when i return.

aaron looks up from the plate he’s drying. “hader?”

“who else aaron?” i respond, grabbing the pan and a dish towel.

he rolls his eyes. “i must have missed him, he was gone when i woke up.”

“hmm.”

“what?” he asks, looking at puzzled.

“its just… well, he always leaves after i wake up.” i start. “it’s like he’s only interested in me. maybe he’s after the women but kills the men to get them out of the way.

”“maybe.” he says. 

i look at him with a frustrated expression.

“what?” he asks while yawning.

i roll my eyes as i put the pan into the cupboard. “thanks for supporting my theory aaron.”

he chuckles. “oh cmon, janie,” that stupid nickname makes me blush slightly, “we don’t have proof he’s after just the women, he stalks them for weeks and kills them both.”

i sigh, “just a thought.”

he finishes the dishes. and turns his body to face me. “keep thinking, well figure it out.” he smiles at me.

“bring it up to the team?” i ask.

“jane…”

“oh cmon! think about it, he doesn’t follow you to work, he focuses on me when we go in for consultations, and he always leaves when i get up for the day.” he doesn’t seem convinced, we stare at each other for a moment, “please? do it for me, your lovely wife.” i tease.

he pauses staring at me intensely for a few seconds. “fine.”

i break into a smile, which he returns. “thank you aaron.”

he sighs and walks off to get ready for work. 

aaron was the lucky one, he got to return to work everyday as the town where we were stationed was only 30 minutes from headquarters. i, on the other hand, got to play house. cooking and cleaning were basically all i got up to during the day. it was dull. but, occasionally, aaron would bring back reports for me to fill out regarding our operation, but other than that i spend my day doing nothing important.

i watch from the kitchen table as aaron grabs his coat and gets ready to leave.

he opens the door, “hey,” i walk over to him, “don't forget we have another consultation at 3.”

he smiles at me, “i’ll be home at 2 then.” theres a pause before he begins talking again, “have a good day jane.” he closes the door.

my day goes by normally, i clean the house, which takes under an hour because i do it everyday. then, i spend the rest of my day on the couch watching the news, desperate to feel like i’m in the field. when i look up from the tv, the clock on the oven reads 1:45. shit, there goes my day.

i decide to make a quick snack for aaron when he gets back. by the time i’m done, i hear the doorknob turn, speak of the devil.

aaron walks calmly through the door and takes off his coat. “hungry?” i ask

he looks at me, sitting on the counter calmly, as he takes off his coat. “very.”

we sit at the table eating the cheese and crackers i had prepared, talking about our days. mine, just as interesting as his. since we were undercover, he was not allowed to be in the field. This meant he was stuck at a desk all day, doing paperwork. exciting.

sooner than i’d like, we hop into his car and begin the 20 minute drive to the clinic. 

doctor hader’s fertility clinic was in a small building on main street. aaron and i rode the elevator anxiously. every meeting with the doctor proved more and more useful but also nerve-racking. hader asked the awkward questions, the ones regarding aaron and i’s non existing sex life. i tended to freeze up once asked whereas aaron smoothly spoke of our fake life. it was odd how i feel when he speaks of those things. it’s like there’s a pit in my stomach… a hungry one.

we sit in the waiting room silently, waiting to be called on. i hear the door hinges creak and grab aaron’s hand, putting on the facade of a happy couple. doctor hader is a small, balding man. he avoids eye contact as he invites us in. his office is painted blue, with a couch that faces his large desk. overcompensating much. hader motions for us to sit down as he takes a seat at his desk.

“jane, aaron, wonderful to see you again.” he smiles, that creepy awful smile.

aaron and i smile back, “great to see you too, doctor hader.” aaron says.

“so, let's begin,” hader brings out our file, “you’ve been trying for some time now, yes?”

i blush, “yes, 6 months now.”

“interesting, you’re still trying now correct, with the meds i had prescribed, correct?” he asks.

aaron squeezes my hand to keep me focused, “yes.”

hader looks frustrated, “you’re certain?”

he knows were not having sex, he’s been watching us for weeks. 

aaron and i look at each other, “yes.” he says.

the consultation goes on for what feels like forever. when we finally get to leave, it’s not soon enough. i could feel hader’s eyes on me as we head out. i grip onto aaron’s arm.

we ride silently for about half the trip back until i finally speak up. “he knows.” 

“what?” aaron says, not looking up from the road.

“he knows were not… you know…” i say.

aaron doesn’t speak for a while.

“aaron.” 

he looks at me as we stop for a red light. “i think you know what this means, janie.”

“which is?”

“we have to put on a show for him.”

i freeze, the gears in my head turning slowly as i figure out what he means.

we have to have “sex”.

______________________________________________________________

notes: hello! if you made it this far, thank you!! i appreciate you so much. this is my first story here and i'm super excited to share it with you! it may not be that good but i'm still trying! anyway, have a wonderful day!

[throneofsapphics]

have your little girlfriend, part 6

poly!Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: “Aren’t I safe with you?” Maybe the words were a bit bitter, a bit manipulative, but right now she didn’t care. Neither of them would do anything to her when she was hurt like this.

Warnings: darkish aelin/rowan, mental health struggles, forced medicating, implied sexual content 

Word Count: ~2.6k 

A/N: a short one but I promise it's not abandoned, there should be about two more parts, and I have them vaguely planned out!

series masterlist

Soft moss caressed her feet as she ran through the woods, into the dark night’s welcoming embrace. The sweet night air welcomed her, the trees whispering in her ear; faster. 

Sharp and icy wind knocked her to the ground, sending her tumbling over and over and over.

Launching forward in bed, her breaths came fast and heavy - pain lancing through her body. Rowan’s hands were warm on her skin, tugging her into his embrace. The same wind, gentler, cooled her neck. 

“You’re safe,” he murmured, arms tightening. Wincing, she tried to wiggle out of his grip. 

He let her go, and snatched a tonic from the bedside table. The color gave away which one it was. 

Ignoring the pain, she rolled away. “I don’t -,” another lash of pain, “need it,” she gritted her teeth. 

“Bullshit,” he sounded tired. Hopefully too tired to fight her. She should’ve known better. 

Footsteps, and a smaller hand pushed hair away from her face. Aelin frowning down at her. “You need it, petal.” 

“I don’t.” Her hand ran over her hair again, and she sighed, melting into the touch.

“Yes you do.” Rowan said from behind her. Fists clenched the sheets. 

“I said I don’t.” 

She was frustrated for several reasons. One, she hadn’t had a minute alone in what felt like years - really it was only a few weeks. Two, those damn tonics numbed her, put her right into a heavy sleep. Three, they hadn’t ‘allowed’ her to do anything that felt worthwhile. No going back down to her workshop, no walking into the forest or through the city - even when the tonics did their job. All she got was brief walks around the private gardens, ushered through secluded passages, and rare contact with anyone beside them. So, she’d made a personal pact with herself. Until she had a promise she could leave the fucking castle, that same day, she wouldn’t take a tonic. At this point, she’d take even an hour away from her new prison. 

That started three days ago, but the pain started to feel good. It reminded her she was still alive, that everything was real. Thank the Gods she’ll only have to settle once. Sure, she’d heard of the physical effects - but nobody mentioned how much it scrambled their emotions. Maybe that was only her, she didn’t want to ask. 

“You know it’s not safe for you to leave,” Aelin said softly. She squeezed her eyes shut again as another pain shot up her spine. It was always worse at night, especially when the nightmares came.

“Aren’t I safe with you?” Maybe the words were a bit bitter, a bit manipulative, but right now she didn’t care. Neither of them would do anything to her when she was hurt like this. Maybe Rowan was making a tally for later, but that was a problem she’d face months from now. Aelin sighed before sitting, pulling her head onto her lap, fingers running through her hair. She could’ve purred. 

-

‘We should just take her,’ Aelin said to him. He glanced down at the figure, body still curled in tightly, even with Aelin’s fingers running through her hair. Every protective instinct roared against it, especially with her so vulnerable in the first few weeks. Somehow, he hadn’t given in during her little three day protest. If they gave in, she’d either be pacified for a while, or start pushing for more. He’s well aware it would be the latter. 

‘We need to wait at least a month.’ It was Aelin’s first time watching someone else go through this, and it’s different than experiencing it. Part of him felt bad, Aelin only had him to deal with during hers, but she had both of them. That part was heavily outweighed by satisfaction that she had two people to protect her. 

Could she go a whole month without giving in? Probably, but there’s no fucking way he’s letting her go that long without one. 

“Take it, and in one month we’ll go out.”

“No deal.” 

Looking at Aelin, they both knew what they needed to do - and she’d probably hate them for it, at least for a little while. 

Easily, Aelin picked her up and shifted her in her lap, arms holding her back flush against her chest, legs crossing her to pin hers. She realized what was happening a few seconds later, and started squirming. 

Rowan had already moved, his hand squeezing her jaw, prying it open and tipping the liquid back down. She spluttered, but his hand was already holding her mouth closed. Cheeks puffed, she refused to swallow. 

He called her name as a warning. She still didn’t. Rolling his eyes, he pinched her nose shut. Eyes widened, and she tried to hold out. Her face reddened, eyes revealing just how furious she was, but the need for air overtook her, and he watched her throat bob. 

All sorts of foul curses, including ones she probably just invented, left her mouth as he released her, still thrashing in Aelin’s arms as his wife held her steady. It was easy enough for Aelin to hold her, and wait until she’d calmed somewhat - until sleep started to overtake her eyes. 

“I hate you both,” she murmured, before her eyes finally closed. It didn’t phase him. Rowan didn’t care if she hated him now, as long as she was safe and free of pain. 

Even after she fell asleep, Aelin continued to hold her - stroking her hair, arms, anywhere that might bring a bit of comfort. 

Everything seemed more extreme for her. Emotions included, she’d been … unstable, and it didn’t help that she had her breakdown directly before this. Settling was different for each person, but Rowan hadn’t seen anything quite like this before. 

-

She woke up pissed, fully aware of what happened right before sleep overtook her. Truth be told, she’d expected something like this, but it didn’t make her any less angry. She felt violated. Was there any line they wouldn’t cross? No, not when it comes to her and her safety. That disturbed her more than she cared to admit. 

In her current state, she couldn’t go anywhere, but once she was well again? Would staying or leaving hurt more? Well, if she left they’d track her down and drag her back here, and then she’d never taste freedom again, unless they allowed it. She winced at her own thoughts, Aelin and Rowan weren’t that bad. 

Blinking her eyes open, Aelin was standing a few feet away - assessing her. Checking if she’d bite, probably. 

“I’m mad at you,” her voice was rough with sleep - and she wasn’t sure why she said it, maybe she wanted the air clear, for them to know exactly where they stood with her right now. 

“I figured,” Aelin seemed to think it was safe to take a few steps towards her, reaching out her hand. Looking at it, she felt the desire to spit, but settled for rolling to her other side instead. The hurt came through the bond, and she ignored it. Good, maybe Aelin could feel a fraction of what she does right now. 

Gods. That doesn’t sound like her. 

Launching up in the bed, she held her head in her hands. 

“Are you hurting?” Aelin asked, ignoring her not-so-subtle request for distance and taking a seat next to her on the bed, close but not touching. 

A shake of her head, and a quiet, “no.” Silence settled over the two of them, and she had the sudden desire to actually speak. Instinctually, she knew she could trust her mate. Maybe she’d regret saying this later. “My mind … it feels wrong, like it doesn’t belong to me.” 

Aelin shifted closer, their shoulders now touching. “Does it feel like someone else is there?” 

Does it? Like someone is messing with her mind. She ran through her body, trying to assess for anything malignant or out of place. Nothing. Another shake of her head. An indistinguishable wave of emotions flooded through her - such a twisted mess she couldn’t pick one from another but only had the desire to get it out, to fend it off by any means necessary. 

Vaguely, she heard Aelin calling Rowan’s name, heard the door open. 

-

She seemed fine one moment, and the next she’d started hitting the side of her head. Aelin grabbed her hands, holding them down but then - she felt her magic. Like an ancient beast writhing inside of her, trapped and trying to find a way out. She yelled for Rowan, and as soon as he entered a shield of flames surrounded the room. Keeping them and her magic inside. 

Was she keeping her safe, or keeping the world safe from her? It didn’t matter, not now. 

Rowan’s hands gripped the sides of her head, forcing her to look at him. “Bring it back in,” he snarled softly. 

He held firm, even as she tried to pry his hands away from her face, nails leaving small red marks behind. Not enough to draw blood, but enough for a slight sting. He was aware how easily he could hurt her, and slid his hands down, gripping her wrists instead, straddling her thighs. 

Her body fought him, but her magic didn’t touch him or Aelin - only wreaking havoc on their surroundings. Rowan tried her name, again and again. When nothing worked, he gave a silent plea for forgiveness. 

The air ripped from her lungs, he watched her face grow red, her body to the brink of unconsciousness, before the magic stopped - abruptly, leaving the room feeling distinctly empty. Forcing air back into her lungs, she hovered on the edge of barely awake. 

“Stay awake for me,” he gently shook her shoulders. He didn’t notice Aelin had crawled up next to them, her hand now brushing the hair away from her face. 

“Come back to us, love,” she murmured. 

Slow and heavy blinks, he watched her eyes focus, taking in her surroundings. His hands were still holding her in a sitting position, and once he was convinced she could sit on her own, he let go, shuffling slowly off her. Rowan wanted to be out of the striking range, just in case. 

-

There really wasn’t any line they wouldn’t cross - not when it came to hers or their safety. Abstractly, she should thank him - he did her a favor, keeping her magic from completely destroying the surroundings. In reality, she didn’t thank them. That would feel dishonest, and she didn’t feel like being a liar today. Did it make her a petulant child? Maybe, but her entire autonomy had been stripped from her over the last few weeks and she was sick of it. They took it in their hands to make all of her decisions, to decide what she could and couldn’t do.

Insane. That’s how she felt. Like she was holding desperately onto the last thread of her sanity, clinging to it like a lifeline. Was it possible for Fae to go completely insane while settling? Maybe. It looked more likely by the day. 

“I didn’t like that.” 

Aelin snorted. “Neither did I.” She shot her a puzzled look. “In Wendlyn,” she explained, “I came close to a … burnout, of sorts, and he did the same thing to me.”

For some stupid reason, it made her feel a bit better. 

“You should get some sleep,” Rowan’s voice was gruff. She shot him a particularly withering look, and his mouth tightened but he didn’t comment. 

Aelin, instead, reached over to a side table and plucked two books, passing one to her. She’d bought two copies of the same book for them, and somehow exercised enough patience to read at the same pace as her. 

“Don’t you have things to do?” Aelin told Rowan. Probably things they both should do. His eyes rolled, but he pressed a kiss to both of their foreheads before heading out the door. 

She let Aelin fuss and arrange the pillows around her, before they both settled into the book. 

Her mind was still scrambled, head still dazed enough it was difficult to focus on the words. Eventually, she - gently - tossed the book aside and leant her head on her mate’s shoulder. “Read to me,” she said, adding a “please.” 

A soft laugh, but Aelin’s comforting voice filled the room, putting inflections in the right places, painting a clear picture in her mind. This, she should ask her to do more often. 

-

Rowan woke to her the sweet scent of her arousal, like the first bloom of spring. His eyes shot open, meeting Aelin’s stare. Turquoise eyes were filled with amusement, she squirmed between them, nightdress ridden up, thighs rubbing together. 

It had been painful, but necessary, keeping themselves from touching her the last several weeks. 

Soft and gentle moans left her lips, laced with frustration. 

‘We really should help her,’ Aelin’s eyes met his. 

‘Wouldn’t want to leave our mate unsatisfied.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘Be gentle,’ he cautioned, ignoring his wife’s glare and switching his attention back to her. 

-

A month passed, and the days switched between dragging each second out and passing in a semi-aware haze. 

“Do you want to get out of the castle?” Aelin asked, not seeming keen on the idea, but y/n nearly threw herself off of the bed, Aelin moving quick enough to steady her with a soft chuckle.

“Yes,” she repeated, “yes, yes, yes.” 

Begging for basic freedoms? She shut the voice out. 

They took a secluded exit out of the castle. The sun was barely cresting over the horizon, the cool air filling and refreshing her lungs. She was aware of Aelin watching her every reaction, her hand clutched around hers, but she didn’t care at this moment. There would be time to analyze it later, for now she’d take the temporary reprieve. The streets were near empty, but she didn’t mind. After this much time … alone, she figured it might be a bit overwhelming to see several people, and even she could admit her magic was erratic at best. 

The longer she spent trapped in their room, the more time she had to think, and the more dangerous her thoughts grew. Sometimes she thought they underestimated her, maybe thought she wasn’t quite on their level of intelligence, a feisty little creature that would eventually cave to their wishes - even if it took some time. 

They’d quickly proven there were no limits when it came to her, and that idea, that they would keep her locked in a tiny box in name of her safety, started an itch all of her rationalization couldn’t stop. 

The smart choice would be to talk to them, but the last time she tried that everything shattered around her. Instead, she dreamed and planned. After she got through this, she’d be immortal - filled with endless time to wait before she acted.

Her head lay on Aelin’s chest, her fingers running through her hair, a book propped in her mate’s other hand.

Sweet moments and memories fluttered through her mind, but she forced herself to remember the others. Their trust in her was fragile, all she needed was to build it back up again. She didn’t think of the after, only of the freedom. It became her only goal, the one thing occupying her idle mind. 

The door shut gently, and she lifted her head, Rowan’s frame filling it. His mouth curved into the slightest smile seeing the two of them, striding over towards the bed. 

“You’re dirty,” Aelin snapped at him. His eyes rolled before meeting hers. 

‘Did I miss something?’ 

‘Something with the book, she’s been on edge,’ she answered silently. His brows rose, but he knew better than to try to interrupt again, and headed towards the washroom.

She forced the guilt deep, deep down, letting sleep take over instead - exhaustion still filled her, the effects of her settling lessening, but still present. 

-

taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @inloveallthetime @sstrohma @moonlightttfae

[captainpulisic]

is it cool that I said all that? - c. pulisic

this is me manifesting reputation tv + this is an old draft I just finished up so it takes place abt a year ago when they were all still at chelsea

wc: 1.7 k , gif credits to to owner

it was routine at this point. and very frustrating for everyone that had to bear witness to the shameless flirting you and christian participated in every time your paths crossed. 

it had started with occasionally bumping into each other at parties- you ran in the same circles, it was bound to happen. you’d spend the whole night tucked away in a corner, whispering and lightly brushing against each other. any girls vying for his attention that night were fighting a losing battle, christian too enraptured with refilling your drink and getting to know every detail about you. countless times girls had come up to the two of you, keen on winning his attention and luring him away, only to roll their eyes and stomp away when he paid them no mind. he never even noticed, too caught up in whatever you were saying, his pinky brushing against your hand. 

all his teammates would laugh at how he’d always been reluctant to come to these parties, yet having found you, was now the first to show up. he now spent the weekdays waiting for the weekend, counting the minutes until he’d see your warm eyes and bright smile. but it never amounted to anything more, both of you too shy to make a move. when the night would wind down and the party would clear up, you’d smile and bid farewell until the next party. 

when this became too tedious and christian too desperate to see you again, he decided to man up and be the one to dm you. enough was enough and he wasn’t going to get by on biweekly encounters and social media stalking you on the daily. from there, a streak of flirty messages and late night talking began. yet, again, nothing more came from it.

“just man up and ask her out,” ben bugged at him- having caught christian smiling down at his phone too many times.

one night, after a day of nonstop texting (yes, he had upgraded from dms to getting your number), you had let it slip that you’d never been to a match since relocating to london. you’d been eager to go but had never had a good enough push to actually do it. instantly he had invited you to the next match at the bridge, swearing it'd be a worthwhile experience.

it’s a date, christian replied and you both went to sleep that night with stupid grins. 

fast forward a week later, the day of the match, and you’d spent the morning jumpy with nerves. was it really a date or had he just called it one in the midst of the moment? what if it was like a friend date? cue the nerves amping up. 

your knees felt a little woozy when you recalled the phone call just last night (yes, phone calls between the two of you were a thing now, too). you’d stay up well into morning hours, talking on the phone, him recounting training days and you complaining about uni work. before hanging up, he softly said through the receiver, “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” 

and christian had stuck true to his word, the match and experience as surreal as you had hoped. the rut chelsea had been in recently was irrelevant, them managing to actually win the match- the first win in weeks. you were quite embarrassed at how you spent the entire time fawning over christian. seeing him play, all in his element, left you with heated cheeks and a thumping heart.  

after the game, you follow the instructions he had left for you to find your way down to him. after twists and turns in tunnels and important looking halls, you’d found the outside of the locker room. politely smiling at some girls you’d recognized from the parties, you hung in the back, nerves of seeing christian began bubbling inside of you. as players filed out, one by one, each greeted their waiting girlfriends and invitees. every guy out was one step closer to finally seeing him. 

after what seemed like an eternity, there he was. catching eyes at the same time, his handsome face broke into a smile, managing to tug at every one of your heartstrings. in few strides, he’s standing in front of you, his hand stretched out for you. pulling you to the far side of the room, to a hidden nook, you’re away from the eyes and ear of everyone else there. 

“hi,” looking down at you. “thank you for coming.” 

mirroring his lovesick smile, “of course. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” 

neither you nor christian remark on the fact that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet. and his brown eyes are staring intently into yours as he gives your hand a squeeze, “what did you think? was it everything you expected?”

“yeah, it was amazing.” you breathe out, trying hard to fight the smile on your face. you’re sure it looks quite silly, both of you with reddened cheeks and shy laughter. making yourself admit to him, “you were amazing.”

this causes christian to beam, his smile getting even wider (as if it were any more possible). he’s unsure of what to say, of what to do. 

he wants to play the modest role and say that he was just doing his job, it was a team effort. he also wants to tell you that he had been trying to show off, well aware that you were somewhere in the stands watching him. he wants to tell you that he hardly slept last night, too nervous over the idea of seeing you today. he also wanted to tell you that you’re always in his head, consuming all his thoughts. or, maybe, he just wants to kiss you. yes, he could tell you all that stuff some other day. right now, all he wants to do is kiss your pretty face and never stop. 

he takes this time to really look you over. from the minute he stepped out of the locker room and spotted you, he hadn’t lost you from his sight. travelling from your eyes to the slope of your nose and down to your lips, he couldn’t get enough of you. 

and from there, is where his attention was brought to the blue fabric around your neck. gaze going down, for the first time, he notices that you’re wearing a chelsea jersey. christian chastises himself, too caught up in her pretty face that you hadn’t seen what she was wearing, idiot? 

his unoccupied hand reaches to touch the part of the shirt closest to your neck. that color blue looked so lovely on you. it’s more of a whisper to himself, “I didn’t know you had a jersey.”

“well I didn’t,” it’s now your turn to beam. too caught up basking in his presence, you'd forgotten all about your little prematch endeavour. you were half nervous he wouldn’t care but half excited that maybe he’d love it. “but I got here early and decided to look around the store. I found something I really liked and had to buy, yanno?” 

ignoring his furrowed brow and confused stare, you let go of his hand to turn around. your back facing him, christian is met with a neatly stitched ‘10’ and ‘pulisic’. 

“you bought my jersey?” he’s dumbfounded, all he can do is stare at his name and number sprawled on your back. finding your hand again, he turns you face to face, again. christian was unsure of what to say, too many emotions going through his head and heart. “I coulda gotten you one for free, you didn’t have to spend your money on it.” 

shaking your head, “nuh-uh, do you know how cool I felt going up to the register with your jersey? the lady working even asked if you were my favorite player.” 

“yeah?” christian felt the two of you getting closer with every word said. as if there was some sort of magnetic force pushing you together, there were only mere inches separating you guys. one hand still holding yours, he let the other settle on your waist. it felt electric, it felt right. his mind flashed with the image of his name on your back, something possessive being awoken in him. “and what did you tell her?”

you pause for a moment, putting on your best poker face. in your most serious voice, “told her no. that mason mounts jersey was sold out so I had to settle for yours.”

instantly his smile drops and there’s a pinch to your hip where some skin was exposed. when did his hand get there? a pout on his lips, “you’re terrible. that was-” 

“a joke,” now you leave a pinch on his cheek. a slight scoff and a glance towards mason on the other side of the room, “mason couldn’t pay me all the money in the world to wear his jersey.” 

“good.” still pouting, he gets even closer with every word. being this close to him, you’re able to count every freckle on his cheeks and the stars in his eyes. both hands on your hips now, “because I don’t wanna share.” 

“well lucky for you, pulisic,” another inch closer, “I don’t want to be shared.” 

lips practically touching, your hands reach to cup his face. from there, you pull him down as you go up on your tiptoes. everything else seemed to fade out as your lips moved together. no rush or urgency, just softness and words unspoken. who needed words? words and confessions could be said later. 

too lost in each other, the two of you were unaware of mason and bens nosey stares. shaking his head at the scene in front of them, ben holds his hand out. “alright, he finally made his move and they’re snogging. pay up.”

“no way!” mason scoffs, “the bet was that he had to make the first move. she practically jumped his bones.”

“bloody specifics,” ben mutters as he opens his wallet and hands mason the 200 (unjustly, in his opinion) owed pounds. 

what? if they had to suffer and watch two idiots fail to flirt, they were going to make some money out of it.

just wanted to post something before the semester started and i got swamped w schoolwork :) like always, feedback is really appreciated, thank you!

[lightsofthe-living-gvf]

Song and Dance

18+ Minors DNI

Jake Kiszka/Reader

Summary: Jake sees right through the game you’re trying to play and puts an end to it.

Warnings: Smut, dom!Jake & sub!reader, teasing, pet names, impact play, oral (m. rec), unprotected penetrative sex (yk wrap it before you tap it), begging, dirty talk, crying. Let me know if I forgot any!

Word Count: 2.8k.

A/N: Hello, everyone! This isn’t what I usually write—I tend to write the boys as subs—but I had this idea and literally wrote this fic at the speed of light 🤷🏼‍♀️ I hope you enjoy!

As soon as the hotel room door had locked, Jake issued to you a simple command, "Strip."

Shrugging off your jacket and draping it over a chair, you looked to him with raised brows and an amused smile. You were feeling particularly.. cheeky, and you proved so by not moving a single inch to follow his order. Instead, you remarked, "Desperate much?"

Jake didn't show any signs of his irritation towards you and your blatant refusal, besides the tightening of his jaw. But, you saw it. You had always been able to read him so easily and you knew, you had him right where you wanted him.

You had been teasing Jake all night at the event he had brought you to; tossing him tantalizing looks and whispering filthy things in his ear and allowing the slit in your dress to reveal more of your thigh than strictly necessary. You had been burning for him all day and sure, you could have just behaved and waited to try and start anything until you were behind closed doors, but what was the fun in that? Your Jacob was so hot when he was all flushed and frustrated. Why would you deny yourself the thrill of his vexation?

Jake knew exactly what you were doing, and he was more than willing to participate in your little song and dance until neither of you could stand it. However, he was not willing to lose his composure so early in the night. He restated his command in a collected tone, "Strip, Y/N."

This time, you obeyed. You bent down to unstrap your heels, giving him a seductive look down the front of your dress. As you straightened back up and stepped out of your shoes, you had a delicious, devious idea. You looked to Jake with your prettiest doe eyes and a pouted lip.

"Don't you wanna do it? I thought you liked to undress me."

You were playing dangerous game, one you were sure to lose. Jake just chuckled. His desire for you was growing by the second, and so was that domineering flare of his. But, he wasn't ever going to let on. His only tell would be his rapidly hardening cock beginning to strain against his dress pants. He sauntered over to the armchair in the corner of the room and took a seat.

"I believe I gave you an order, my love," he said, giving you a once-over. "And if you don't fucking follow it in the next ten seconds, I'll have you over my knee. You don't want that, do you?"

You cheeks flushed and your chest warmed with an addicting medley of fear and lust. You knew that Jake would follow through with his threat. Your mind flashed to a few weeks ago, when Jake had bent you over the kitchen countertop and turned your backside into a pretty, deep pink. You fought valiantly to suppress the needy shudder that threatened to rack your limbs. While the offer was damn near mouthwatering, you didn't want that tonight.

So, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. Next, you unhooked your bra and stepped out of your panties, and they joined the pile at your feet. Then, you waited, standing all exposed to Jake's starved, wandering eyes. Even though he had seen you naked so many times the occasions were countless, you had always felt a little shy when you found yourself on display. Your blush spread to the tips of your ears and the plane of your chest.

Jake took notice, of course, and teased you, "Awe, are you shy, my darling?"

You forced yourself to lift your chin in opposition. You weren't going let just his gaze knock down the defiant pillar you had spent all night building. You were simply too prideful.

"No," you answered.

Jake met your eyes with a challenging expression, but didn't say anything else. He glazed over your naked form a little longer. You were so lovely; from the willful sparkle in your eyes, to the soft curve of your hips and waist, and to your plush thighs. Jake adored you so.

Just before you could get impatient and mouth-off, Jake motioned to you, "Come here, pretty girl. Kneel."

You knew you were beginning to truly push it, but you didn't move. A glower came across his features, his brows furrowing and his eyes darkening even more so than they already were, if that was even possible. You felt yourself grow week in the knees, but you held strong.

"That's how you want to do this?" he mused. "Fine."

His hands went to his belt buckle and as soon as you heard the chink of the metal, you went, falling to your knees in front of your Jacob in swift, desperate devotion. He gave a wolfish smirk and gently reached out, running a hand down the side of your face. You leaned into the touch, falling out of character just long enough to stupidly let yourself be lured into a false sense of security.

"My pretty baby," he cooed down at you.

Then, in one swift motion, Jake slid his fingers into your hair and closed his fist, yanking your head back and exposing your throat. You gasped and your hips bucked, the action shocking your back into reality. Jake wasn't trying to play nice, and neither were you. He pulled even harder, just to see he wince spread across your features.

"You think you're slick, don't you? Think you can tease me all night long without any punishment?" He yanked your head forward, so your eyes were locked, and hissed, "You've become such a brat."

He let go of your hair and, his hand went for his belt buckle, once again. You felt a bit of a panic rise in your chest; perhaps you had pushed too far, and you were going to get the punishment you deserved. But, Jake only undid his buckle, before moving on to his zipper.

As he began to unzip his zipper, he continued, "I suppose I spoil you. I let you get away with everything and now, its coming back to bite me in the ass." He huffed and pulled his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring upwards against his still-clothed stomach. "Figures." Then, he nodded to you, "Go ahead and suck on it, sweetheart."

You complied a small glare. You wanted to be sure Jake knew where you stood: you weren't ready to let your rebellion die, just yet. You chose to tease him, delivering tiny kitten licks and soft kisses along his shaft. His hand settled into your hair, this time, at the crown of your head. Not yet pulling, just resting. Then, he jerked his hips upward; a clear signal.

So, you conceded and suckled the tip into your mouth. You wanted to draw it out, you wanted to be slow and to tease him until he was taking what he wanted, but the heat between your legs and the need settling into your stomach already had you feeling dizzy. So, you did as you were expected to do.

You relaxed--your mouth, your throat, your shoulders--and took him deeper. You swirled your tongue along his shaft as he went, getting him all wet and warm and sloppy. You didn't mind giving a messy blowjob here and there; you knew Jake had always delighted in watching you let loose your inhibitions to please him.

He hummed, sinking a bit deeper into the armchair. "That's it."

You got to work, then, and began to bob your head. Jake's fingers tightened in your hair and he took control, fucking into your mouth in quick, rough thrusts. It wasn't long before he was hitting the back of your throat, and you couldn't control the noises coming from your mouth, and tears were streaming from your eyes, and drool was slick on your chin. You clung mindlessly to his thighs as you willingly--eagerly--took it. He was making an utter mess out of you and taking great pleasure in doing so. It made your stomach coil in the most depraved way.

Jake's obscene noises and curses were falling so freely and he was so hot and heavy in your mouth that you thought you were going to feel his release rush down your throat any second. You readied yourself for it, taking a breath and opening your throat as far as your body would allow you. But he stopped, pulling you off his cock with a rattling inhale. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, a little smirk playing on your lips as you awaited his words.

"Bend over the bed, darling," he directed, his voice steady, despite the orgasm he had just denied himself. He was still so collected, it was beginning to frustrate you. You wanted to tear down the walls of his stony composure and suffer the consequences.

So, you petulantly refused him, "No. I wanna ride you, tonight."

He huffed a cocky laugh. "Do you really think I care about what you want tonight? I don't know if you've noticed, but you're in trouble, sweetheart. So, if I were you--" He set an elbow atop his knee and leaned down, his nose just barely brushing against yours. "--I'd do as you're told."

You closed the distance and kissed him so hard it nearly hurt. Jake, ever-so frustratingly tolerant of your defiance, pushed you apart with a firm hand at the base of your throat. You surged forward, trying to connect your lips, again. His grip tightened, not enough to cut off your breath but certainly enough to put a stop to your squirming. You let out a pitiful, frustrated noise. He wasn't relenting to you, and you were growing desperate.

"Come on, Jake," you tried. You wanted to come off as alluring, but instead, your voice only came out in a breathy whine. He was surely winning your game, now. Still, you gave it one last ditch effort and continued on, "Let loose. I know you're frustrated, I know you wanna come. Fuck me, baby, fuck me, please..." you trailed off, realizing you had dissolved into begging him.

Your insolent undertaking had been derailed.

"Are you done?" Jake asked, his voice gentle. "Are you going to be sweet for me?"

Bowing your head, you nodded.

"Good girl. Go bend over the bed, now. Spread your legs all nice and wide for me, okay?"

You stood, making your way to the bed and sinking into the downy comforter. You did as he said, hinging at the hips and opening your thighs as widely as you could. Your breath hitched as the cool air swept across your exposed core. You were so wet, you were sure the insides of your thighs had to be glistening.

You heard shuffling from behind you and you knew Jake was undressing, but you dared not turn your head and catch a glimpse. As much as you loved looking at his beautiful figure, you didn't want to make any movements that weren't permitted. You just needed to be fucked, and you knew the quickest was to get there was through obedience.

Moments later, you felt the warmth of Jake's body behind you. His fingers trailed tauntingly up your thigh, and then through the folds between your legs, pulling a shocked whimper from your throat. He stroked over your clit, once, and then twice, before drawing back completely. You gave a pitiful whine.

"Oh, poor thing," he purred. "You're so wet. You need my cock, don't you? Tell me," he punctuated his sentence with a brisk slap to the back of your thigh.

"Yes!" You gasped, back arching, even though the impact had hardly even stung. "Need your cock so bad. Jakey, please, please."

"You listen so well when you want to," he praised. He took hold of your hips, his grip so firm it ached. Your breathing began to pick up; you were so close to getting what you had been wanting. You fought to keep your hips from bucking into his and nuzzled your face into the duvet. So close, so close...

It was like a divine blessing when he finally slipped inside of you. He buried himself to the hilt in a harsh thrust, causing you to let out a squeak muffled by the bedding. It was everything you had been gagging for all night. He was warm, firm, and filling you up so, so pleasingly. The instant pleasure was breathtaking; he was breathtaking.

Jake wasted no time building up a punishing rhythm. He moved your body as he pleased, pulling your hips back as he drove forward and slammed into you so forcefully, you could hear the slapping of your skin. Warmth had already begun to spread throughout your stomach, and he had hardly even started.

You were sure you looked pathetic; clawing at the bed and arching your back and mewling like you couldn't quite control yourself. You didn't care, you couldn't. Not when the only thing that mattered was Jake's cock, stroking your walls and hitting all the right spots that neither your fingers nor any toys could ever reach.

Your hips had begun to ache from the force of his thrusts and it was only serving to drag you closer to the edge. Oh, how filthy you were. Noises were tumbling more freely from your lips, high-pitched moans and curses and needy keens that only served to spur Jake on.

Then, he began to talk, his voice deep and ragged and nearing breathless, "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked stupid?"

You nodded with a broken whimper.

Jake gave a breathy chuckle. "You're so cock-drunk, my love, you can hardly form sentences. How endearing."

It was all over, then.

"I'm gonna come, Jake," you moaned. "Let me come."

"Beg for it, my darling."

With that, Jake halted his movement. With one hand remaining on your hip to keep you from bucking your hips backwards, Jake took hold of your hair and pulled, tossing your head back. You let out a pitiful whine, your eyebrows tipping up in the middle. Without question or hesitance, you obeyed him.

"Please, baby, please."

"More."

"I'm so-so fucking close, please. I need it."

"More."

Tears formed in your eyes and your pushed yourself up on shaky arms, turning your head just enough for Jake to watch the mascara begin to run down your cheeks as you pleaded with him.

"I need it- I need it so bad. I need you, Jake. I just wanna come, please."

"Come on," Jake urged. "Beg like you mean it, pretty girl."

"Please, Jakey," you sobbed, your chest aching with need. "I'm sorry I teased you and-and I'm sorry I was a brat. I didn't mean it. Let me come, pleasepleasepleaseplease--"

Jakes thrusts started nearly as suddenly as they had stopped. He praised you, rubbing your hips with gentle hands as he did, "Good girl, sweetheart. That's what I wanted to hear." One of his hands wandered downwards and tucked itself between your legs, fingers immediately circling atop your clit. "You can cum, my love. Whenever you're ready."

As soon as you were given his permission, you came. Your body trembled and you cried out, your back arching into the waves of pleasure overtaking your body. Jake worked you through it, his fingers on your clit and his thrusts unrelenting. His movements were begging to become feverish and sloppy and his cock was twitching rousingly inside of you. You knew he was hauling himself towards his peak just as desperately as you had been moments before. Then, he tripped over the edge, draping himself over your back and shooting deep inside, his release coating your walls. The warmth of it forced a whimper from your throat.

For a moment, the room was still. You and Jake laid there entwined, your chests heaving and the sounds of your pants bouncing on the walls. Neither of you made any effort to move. You couldn't, not with the tiredness settling into your limbs, nor with Jake's weight pressing you into the mattress. I grounded you, easing you back into reality as you both came down from your highs.

You don't know how long you laid there for, but when Jake finally pushed himself up and gingerly slid his now-softened cock out, you wished you could stay a little while longer. He helped you up with gentle hands and as soon as you were able, you fell into his arms. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he lifted a hand to your hair, stroking soothingly and flattening unruly pieces.

"Let's get in the shower, yeah?"

You nodded, although you didn't actually make any move to do so. But eventually, Jake was able to get you into the bathroom and under the steamy spray of the shower head. You and Jake were spent and sore, but you worshipped each other once more, lathering each other's bodies with tender hands and working shampoo into the others hair. And when you were all done, you fell into bed and he pulled you close to his chest, murmuring praises into your hair until you drifted off.

[writing-until-i-drop]

What's In A Name? Chapter Two

Meg Harding and Kate Carter were inseparable until their friends died five ago, then she ran to New Orleans to save lives as a paramedic. But when Javi calls on his two oldest friends to help him collect data, counting on their matching natural instincts for tornadoes, Meg goes home for the first time in years. That's where she meets Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers, the YouTube storm chasers her dad likes to watch, and finds herself fitting in more with them than with Storm PAR. Meg only plans to stay for the week but will it be easy to leave when the dust settles?

If a certain cowboy has a say in it, nothing about leaving is going to be easy.

A/N: A failed tornado chase and a long night at the bonfire.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

Welp. That had been a shit show. Kate had panicked before Meg and Javi could get the PAR on the ground, nearly driving off without them. Javi had been frustrated out of the gate but quickly realized just how pale their friend had gotten, the trauma clear in her eyes. Neither of them needed to ask what she had been thinking, it was clear as day that Kate had been reliving the EF-5 that had taken their friends.

Meg had been shaken being so close to a tornado again but she had come to terms with the situation a long time ago thanks both to her line of work as a paramedic and to the views on life and death in her adoptive home of New Orleans. 

By the time they pulled into the shitty motel they’d be staying in for the night, the parking lot was filled with chasers throwing a little party, drinking, smoking, and dancing. There were even a few bonfires going, which Meg was sure the owners of the motel loved. 

“Haven’t we stayed here before?” Javi asked as the trio strolled towards the motel, Meg scrunched her nose, trying to recall if they had stayed at this specific shitty motel before. 

“Yeah, Javi,” Kate chuckled, “We’ve stayed in every motel in Oklahoma.” The three of them laughed, they really had stayed in a lot of motels while chasing storms for Kate and Parveen’s research.

“Remember we used to have Addy check in?” Javi reminisced, “Then later, we’d all sneak into the room just so we could all save ten bucks?” Kate and Meg were nodding along to the memories and Kate slipped her hand into Meg’s intertwining their fingers like old times. “We’d have Addy do it because she just looked-”

“So sweet,” The trio said together, laughing.

“She was also a cover hog, Kate and I would always end up cuddled up together to stay warm.” Kate snorted,

“And Parveen’s snoring?” 

“Oh my god, not even industrial earplugs could block him out,” Javi added and they trailed off into a comfortable silence. “Hey, um, do you guys want to hang out later?” Javi asked and before Meg could agree, Kate was already shaking her head.

“We’re a little tired, Javi,” Kate spoke for the two of them like she always had. It didn’t bother Meg but she also wished that Kate was more open to having some fun after what they had been through that day. “Maybe another night?” Javi’s face fell but he recovered quickly, smiling at them.

“Yeah, alright, goodnight.”

“Night, Jav,” Meg hugged him tight, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Take a shower, you stink,” 

“Yet somehow you still smell fresh as a cow’s ass, Meg,” Javi teased, ruffling her already messy hair. Kate pulled her away from Javi towards their shared room, quietly humming a tune Meg didn’t recognize. “It’s good to have y’all back!”

“I’m not back,” Kate shook her head with a smile. Javi’s eyes landed on Meg who was grinning, shrugging,

“You’ve got a week to convince me, Jav.” That lit his face up like a kid on Christmas.

They were halfway up a set of stairs when Tyler’s voice stopped them.

“City Girl, Louisiana,” The rest of the Wranglers shouted in greeting. Seeing them up close and personal, Meg was reminded not only of her friends but of her family, the chasers who she had grown up around and it made her smile. This was why her dad and the crew liked watching the streams so much, they saw themselves in the Wranglers and now that’s all Meg could see. A fondness grew in her heart for them. “The cells to the west will choke each other out, they said. The one to the east will put on a show.” Boone had a shit-eating grin on his face, obviously drunk as he hung off the side of Tyler’s truck.

“Well, it didn’t throw you off the scent,” Kate bit out with fake amusement.

“Hey, that’s what makes Tyler famous,” Boone gestured to his friend, who flushed at the compliment, turning his attention back to the weather instrument he was fixing.

“On YouTube?” Kate teased sarcastically but Boone was too far gone to get the nuance of the situation.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. We’re on YouTube.” He looked towards the rest of the crew, “We got what? About a million subscribers now?” The Wranglers whooped in excitement.

“Yes, sir,” The one Meg recognized as Lily chimed in, focused on her drone. Ben, the reporter from earlier in the day, came closer with his little notepad.

“Um, Kate and Meg what? In case I mention you in the article I’m writing,” Kate physically pulled away from the situation, trying and failing to look relaxed.

“Um, just Kate’s fine.”

“Starts with an H if that helps, Ben,” Meg gave him a tight smile, unwilling to share her famous surname in a parking lot full of chasers. Ben dutifully noted the information.

“They’re tricky,” Tyler remarked. Boone took over again, leaning dangerously far off of the truck.

“Actually, you made a good call earlier. The other cell looked stronger but the cap never broke.”

“What’s a cap?” Ben looked painfully confused and Meg felt bad for him, being so out of his element. Dexter’s explanation didn’t help much so Meg added in,

“Think of it as a shield in the atmosphere that prevents a tornado from forming.” That’s how Preacher had explained it to her as a kid, she saw the lightbulb go off in Ben’s head as he scribbled it down. “Are you hurt, Ben?” The man touched his temple where there was a bit of dried blood,

“‘Tis but a flesh wound, my dear.” Meg rolled her eyes, dropping her backpack on the ground and hopping the railing, landing deftly on the ground with the Wranglers with her heavy medical bag on her shoulder. 

“Let the professional be the judge of that.” Meg knelt, digging out an alcohol wipe and a few bandages while the conversation flowed around them.

“Where did you guys all meet?” Kate asked, “Did you all study meteorology at U of A?” That got a laugh out of the rowdy group, none of whom had formally studied besides Tyler.

“This is going to burn for a second probably, alright, Sweetie?” Ben winced as she swiped away the dried blood. The wound wasn’t big, already scabbed over, so Meg put a regular bandaid on it, one of the bandaids she kept for kids with a smiling kitten on it. “Right as rain. Anyone else need a checkup?” 

“You a doctor?” Lily asked, both brows raised.

“Nah, just a paramedic but I can fix you up if something’s bothering you.” 

“Well, I hit my bicep on the camper door, I think you should kiss it better,” Dani said with a grin, teasing her. Meg rolled her eyes but happily crossed their set up to the impressively muscular woman. “Right here, Doc.” She flexed, pointing to a perfectly tan spot on her arm.

“I agree with your diagnosis, here,” Meg kissed the woman’s arm, “All better?” 

“Here hurts too,” She pointed at her cheek and Meg obliged. “Thanks, Doc. All better.” 

“I guarantee you, these guys have seen more tornadoes than anyone else on this lot combined.” 

“Not likely,” Meg snorted softly. Dani gave her a questioning look, “Not my first rodeo by a long shot, Sweet Thing.” 

“Really, do tell, Doc,” Meg shook her head, “I ain’t nearly drunk enough to start telling stories.”

“Dexter, get this fine-looking woman a beer,” Meg looked up at Kate who was shaking her head with an easy smile on her face, used to Meg making friends anywhere they went.

“Where are you chasing tomorrow?” Lily asked Kate, who looked like she was going to answer when Tyler interrupted her. Dexter dutifully handed Meg an unopened can of Budweiser.

“Oh no, no, no, not falling for that again. Kate’s from New York, you can’t trust a word she says.” Meg snorted, covering it up with a cough, thanking Dexter for the beer. Tyler must have never heard a New York accent before because Kate’s twang, as much as she tried to hide it, was so clearly southern.

“Well, you can always trust a guy who puts his face on a t-shirt,” Kate snarked with a grin, getting yet another laugh out of the Wranglers. “See you in the room, Mud Bug.” Kate shouldered Meg’s bag and headed up the stairs.

Dani pulled a folding chair out of the van and motioned for Meg to join them, Boone, who had been focused on Kate, joined them after a few seconds.

“You seem like a cool cat, Meg. Don’t tell me you got one of those fancy degrees too,” Meg shook her head, taking a sip of the cold beer with a sigh.

“Just a bachelor's in public health.” 

“So you were sniffing the dirt for fun?” Tyler called down from the top of his truck,

“Said I never studied, doesn’t mean I haven’t been around more twisters than in your wildest dreams,” Meg called back, getting a pat on the shoulder from Dani. “Here, Sweet Thing, my first tattoo,” She pointed to her bicep, where there was a large illustration of a tornado with Dorothy’s sensors flying in it.

“Shit, that’s cool, what’s in it?” 

“Y’all know about Dorothy?” Dexter perked up, spinning around,

“I do!”

“What’s Dorothy?” Ben asked, pen poised over his notebook again. Meg would have to text her mom about this, it would make her coo with laughter imagining her daughter enthralling a group of chasers and a reporter with stories about her and her husband’s old project.

“It revolutionized tornado data,” Dexter spoke excitedly.

“Yep, two Muskogee State PhDs and their team came up with the idea to send sensors up a tornado’s funnel, which recorded real-time data about the tornado. Allowing them to create a better early warning system.” 

“Bill and Jo Harding,” Dexter added, “They’re legends in the field.” Meg had a sneaking suspicion that Dexter would have a heart attack if he ever met her parents. “Can I see it?” He gestured to her arm and she held it out for him. Dexter snapped a photo of it with his phone with Meg’s permission.

“Seeing a twister suck up those sensors is a godly experience,” Meg teased, taking a long drink of her beer as she watched her words sink in.

“You’ve watched Dorothy be deployed?”

“Many times, like I said, not my first rodeo. Kate and Jav’s seen it too once or twice.” Boone’s face soured,

“What are you doing with that crowd anyway? Storm PAR ain’t great company to keep.” Meg filed that information away for a later date, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“I ain’t here to be with them, I’m here for Kate, who’s here to help out an old friend.” Boone seemed satisfied with that answer, 

“Shit, you got a lot of tattoos.” 

“This ain’t even all of them, Boonie Baby,” She realized her mistake as soon as the nickname left her mouth. Lily was the first to round on her,

“You watch our streams?” 

“I’ve seen a few minutes here and there, darlin’, enough to know who y’all are.” Tyler climbed down off of the truck, giving her an appraising look that had Meg turning pink. 

“I was right, Louisiana, you are a tricky one.” Meg rolled her eyes, “What’s so funny?” 

“Not from Louisiana, Arkansas,” Boone chuckled at his friend’s expense, patting him on the shoulder. “Take another guess.” 

“Texas?” 

“Say that again and I’ll slash your tires, Sweetie Pie,” Meg was a proud Sooners fan, her hatred for the Texas Longhorns running deep. Tyler barked out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“An Oklahoma girl then, I should’ve known.” Ben looked confused again, so Meg bailed him out, explaining the college football rivalry. “So, if this isn’t your first rodeo, what was?” 

“You always goin’ around askin’ girls what their first tornadoes were?” Meg teased,

“Only the pretty ones.” Meg’s blush deepened, “So, what was it, Oklahoma?” Meg finished her beer,

“Got anything stronger?” Boone happily fetched her another can, this time it was purple with a high APV rating on the bottom. He perched himself on the edge of the table Lily was working on, Tyler coming to stand at his side.

“My parents loved to chase a storm, any storm, and when I was five we were out to dinner when dad realized something big was about to break. So, they threw me in the car, and off we went. It came down right in front of us, maybe a hundred yards down the road. We were stupid close to an F-3,” 

“EF-3, you mean?” Tyler tried to correct her, eyes widening when she shook her head.

“This was 2001, Sweetie Pie, now hush, I’m telling a story.” 

“Yeah, Ty, hush,” Dani huffed. Meg took great pleasure in Tyler’s blush and the way he looked away from the group to hide it.

“It was beautiful, watching it uproot the trees along the road, eating everything in its path. I tried to get my mom to open up the sunroof so I could climb out and see it better.” 

“You weren’t scared?” Ben asked, writing notes. Meg had never been scared of a tornado in her life, something her parents accused each other of teaching her. Not even after the incident, she respected them and the damage they could do of course.

Mother Nature was not someone she wanted to mess with but she had always just found the storms to be chaotic, wild, and absolutely thrilling. Being scared of dying was another question, one she hadn’t been asked and wasn’t going to answer. Her wrist started to ache and Meg switched the hand holding her drink.

“You know when you see a lion at the zoo? It’s kind of like that, you know it’s a killing machine and could and would rip you to shreds without breaking a sweat but you also can’t help but admire how majestic and beautiful it is.” 

“God, look at his face,” Lily scoffed, looking at Tyler. Meg glanced his way and found him staring back at her with a look she couldn’t read but one of his friends seemed to understand.

“But you’re a paramedic, not a chaser?” Ben prompted, drawing her attention away from the cowboy.

“That’s right, storms are the love of my life but helping people, that’s what I’m good at. But enough about me, who else has some stories? Laissez les bons temps rouler!” 

“Hell yeah!” Boone tapped his can to hers, “I like you!”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @sinners-98-world @nerdgirljen @candlejuice

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[idyllic-affections]

what if kaveh adopted a child? (pt. ii)

summary. kaveh isn't exactly the best single dad out there, but he's doing his best.

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst. adoptive dad!kaveh & reader. alhaitham & reader. tighnari & reader. collei & reader. 1.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this post is an expansion of what if kaveh adopted a child?

author's thoughts. do you guys remember when i said i wouldnt expand upon this brainrot? i lied. it was pretty well recieved and got some nice interaction so i hope to replicate that effect with this one!! heres some more adoptive dad!kaveh 💖 this will not make sense if you havent read the aforementioned brainrot, so please do that before reading this one! also do be aware that this has hints of kaveh's backstory in it, so if you don't want to see implied spoilers, don't read this!!

kaveh is a disaster single dad, but he's doing his best.

kaveh did inevitably take alhaitham's unsolicited advice and took them to gandharva ville. as much as he may hate to outwardly admit it... he knows he's not in a place to take care of a child alone, and he can't force alhaitham to help. that is simply not his roommate's responsibility. kaveh respects that; taking care of a child is a serious committment. it is not something that can be treated lightly, and it is certainly not something to force upon an unwilling caretaker. thankfully, the people at gandharva ville have no issue taking them in until kaveh is able to care for them properly.

tighnari and collei take really good care of them—especially collei. she adores them.

collei was very awkward with them at first, but she warmed up to them pretty quickly. something about having the opportunity to help a young child recover from trauma and learn to be stronger and smarter, having the opportunity to be like a big sister... it's very healing for her. she is being the person she herself would have needed all those years ago.

tighnari was also somewhat hesitant at first. children have a tendency to be bratty and loud, and he... does not have that kind of patience, but he was quick to get over any prior doubts after meeting them for the first time. they were very quiet. it was kind of worrying at first, but tighnari quickly realized that they just prefer communicating nonverbally.

the way they write is beautifully advanced and elegant, but it seems that their mouth finds it hard to keep up with their brain. that's all.

tighnari tutors them alongside collei. they're very advanced in language for their young age, and collei is a bit behind, so the two are roughly at the same level. he's also teaching both of them some of sumeru's many languages.

unlike collei, however, they are not from sumeru. they're from fontaine. as such, they have a lot of trouble producing some sounds that native speakers would have no trouble with.

(it's a source of very much frustration for them. collei is always there to console them when they get especially frustrated with themselves, wiping their tears away with gentle yet calloused hands and reassuring them that absolutely no-one expects them to be able to pronounce every word perfectly. even she messes up sometimes! she was away from sumeru for so long, after all. some sounds are difficult for her too.)

whenever kaveh visits them, they absolutely shine with excitement, as if he hasn't come to see them in ages. however... he's usually there multiple times a week (unless he's away for a project, and if he is, he always tells them before he leaves). they're simply always happy to see him.

it's really very cute, the way they gasp delightedly and run up to hug his legs since they're too short to reach any higher. it's impossibly endearing.

one time in particular stood out.

"Baba!"

Utter shock.

The silence that spread through Gandharva Ville was incredibly overpowering, but that didn't seem to deter them from running up to poor Kaveh—who had yet to completely process what they had said, how they had addressed him—and squeezing their little arms around his leg. The silence was quick to dissipate into fond murmurs and giggles as the Forest Rangers resumed their individual duties.

...

The blonde had no intention of replacing their parents; he'd feel awful if one or both of them turned up at some point, only for their child to have bonded with a different caretaker, but...

He also didn't have the heart to chide them. Who would? The way they gazed up at him with a smile that outshined the blazing sun itself was too sweet, too innocent. Kaveh couldn't possibly imagine why anyone would want to crush their soul like that.

He couldn't deny the warmth spreading in his chest, either.

With a smile, he raised his child into his arms, laying his forehead against their's. His gaze was gentle, affectionate, as he observed their expression. 'Enamored' didn't even begin to describe Kaveh's affection for them.

"Hello, little one. Baba's back."

from then on, kaveh absolutely addresses them as his kid. he just accepts that his role in their life is that of a father. family is not defined by blood, and archons know they need a parental figure that they can trust and rely on after what they went through in fontaine.

he never really saw himself being a father, at least not for a good while, but he adores them sm <3

alhaitham definitely warms up to them (eventually)!

he teaches them a few things here and there. most of the things he teaches them are language-related, but he'll sometimes present them with math problems. he'll even review some of their work for them if they ask, especially if it's something like an essay.

kaveh would absolutely pay special attention to his child's hair. if he doesn't already know how to care for their specific hair type, he would do everything in his power to learn how to.

kaveh spoils them whenever he can afford to. he oftentimes can't afford to do such things, which stings like a fresh wound would, but he knows they're happy even without being spoiled. he tries his best!

the architect wants to preserve their native culture, but they seem averse to the idea of returning to fontaine, and forcing them would do no good.

for now, the best he can do is obtain fontainian literature through foreign sources and ensure that their own language isn't erased by the sumeran languages they're learning.

his mother does live there. he could always ask her for a few favors when needed.

when the political climate cools down a little, he plans on taking them to fontaine, just not the capital city. anywhere outside of the nation's capital would do. ideally, he'd keep them as far away from the hydro archon as possible.

kaveh would never push his child to enroll in the akademiya, no matter how brilliant they are. unless they voluntarily want to go...

he will not do something that cruel to them. he wouldn't dream of it. honestly, even if they wanted to go, he would be a little hesitant.

(this view would change drastically after the sages are removed from office, however; once they're gone and the akademiya becomes less suffocating, he'd totally encourage them to go.)

if they did decide they wanted to go, however, he'd absolutely try to get them to enroll in kshahrewar.

like father like child!! they've been with the forest rangers for a while, so surely they'd be good with their hands by then.

alhaitham would try to get them into haravatat just to spite kaveh (those two are married, trust me!). his reasoning? they're far ahead of their peers in language. they'd thrive in an environment such as the one his darshan creates.

if they decide not to go? that's alright, too.

kaveh wants his child to thrive in an environment where they can safely and happily pursue whatever catches their interest, even if that means they regularly hop between subjects and ideas on a whim. inspiration is a skittish beast that would surely slip through their fingers if they aren't quick enough to pursue it; he understands this idea very well. it really isn't the end of the world if they don't want to go to the akademiya. they have plenty of scholars willing to teach them without all the academic stress attached—kaveh himself, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno...

(they're like a platonic co-parenting friend group LMAO they're raising [name] and collei together! they all help each other out!!)

kaveh is also very intent on teaching them to care for themselves before they try to care for anyone else.

he lives weighed down by guilt for things that weren't even his fault. he knows he's trapped by his own ideals; he'd be damned if he were to teach his child to be same way.

"do as i say, not as i do" kind of vibe. also definitely teaches his kid to "do no harm but take no shit"

(though, let's be honest: children learn through mirroring. if kaveh is not careful, his child will subconsciously adopt his self-destructive behaviors. thankfully, they do have other people to set them straight if they begin exhibiting such behaviors, namely alhaitham and cyno, who also do the majority of teaching them to "take no shit".)

ultimately, kaveh just wants his child to be happy, even if something were to happen to him. he doesn't want them to feel the way he does every moment of his life.

It wasn't often that Kaveh simply got to sit in calm silence with his child.

More often than not, they spent their time in Gandharva Ville with the forest rangers. However, every other weekend, Kaveh would take them back to Sumeru City with him; Alhaitham seemed to have no qualms with keeping them around after realizing the kind of child they turned out to be.

It was during the weekends the architect had them that he sought to spend as much time as possible with them.

Sometimes, that meant sitting peacefully in the silence together.

"...Little one," Kaveh called softly, hand stroking lovingly over their hair. They tilted their head back to meet his gaze, a small, inquisitive sound leaving their lips.

"Hm?"

"If something ever happens to me, I want you to know that you had nothing to do with it in any way, matter the circumstance. If something ever happens to me... it would not be your fault, okay? Do you understand?"

A heavy silence extended for a moment, and Kaveh could only watch as a variety of emotions crossed their face at once.

It unsettled him that they seemed to fight with themselves about how to respond, as if they couldn't agree with that.

Then again...

It wouldn't surprise him if they blamed themselves for the loss of their biological parents. Only time would tell if that pain would manifest into something worse as they got older.

"...Okay, baba. I understand."

He smiled, leaning down to kiss their forehead.

"Good."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[glutengoblin]

imgoingtogetyouback (Sebastian Sallow X Reader)

A/N: I've been bad and haven't been posting much - BUT I swear I have a lot things coming, I just need to work through writer's block a bit more. Anyway, here is something I wrote tonight, since I feel like it's been so long since I've posted anything. As always, any feedback is appreciating (Especially since this is my first smut that I've written)

Summary: Your and Sebastian's on and off again relationship has been driving you crazy- So, you decide to do something about it. (inspired by imgoingtogetyouback by miss TS)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Minors DNI

Disclaimer: All characters are aged up to 18 in this piece. Also, I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to imgoingtogetyouback

-

You couldn’t believe that you found yourself here again.

You were drunk at the Three Broom Sticks, nearly falling off your stool as you eyed Sebastian Sallow across the room. Though the place was packed, you managed to keep your gaze steady on him. He cast a sly smirk as he studied the brunette Gryffindor student in front of him. While you had to admit that she was beautiful, it didn’t make the situation any less vexatious.

Neither Poppy nor Natty seemed to notice your intense focus on him, as the conversation at the table continued, and, most importantly, the drinking. Your body began to grow warm with anger as Sebastian leaned in to brush a strand of hair away from the Gryffindor’s face. You didn’t know which part was more frustrating - The fact that he was already touching another girl, or the fact that you loved it when he did that it to you.

After a couple more shots of fire whiskey, the world began to blur to the point where you felt like it was a good decision to confront Sebastian. After all, you had only broken up (for the third time) 2 weeks ago. How did he already think it was okay to go snogging yet another girl? You made a move to stand up, nearly falling off your stool before Poppy caught your arm.

“Woah there… What’s up Y/N?” When you didn’t answer, Poppy’s gaze followed your’s until her eyes pooled with worry. “Nuh-uh, you are not going there. Sit your butt back down.” You shook your head, pulling your arm free of Poppy’s grip.

“No Poppy, I have to- I mean, he’s touching another girl. Already.” Poppy stared at you, clearly concerned about your drunken state as she rubbed her temple.

“I’m not going to be able to stop you, am I?” You shot her a slightly lopsided grin, taking a few more steps forward.

“You know me so well!”

You began to make your way across the room, trying to limit the amount you bumped into the various patrons crowding the tables. Through the low light of the establishment, you could see Sebastian full-on kissing the girl at this point- That wouldn’t stand on your watch.

Marching over to his table, you slammed your hands down and tried to look as threatening as possible. Thankfully, the faint ancient magic glow that cast a blue tint around you seemed to do the trick, as the Gryffindor student looked up at you nervously.

“Can… Can I help you?” She asked softly, clearly trying to discern how to best proceed with caution. Sebastian, on the other hand, looked furious. But before he could voice his frustration, you shot the girl a menacing glare and began to draw your wand.

“Well, if you knew what was best for you, you probably would stop snogging another girl’s boyfriend. Specifically, a girl who could hex you into oblivion if she really wanted to.” At that moment, the Gryffindor clearly no longer valued bravery as much as she thought, as she choose to apologize profusely and quickly leave the table.

Sebastian turned to stare at you, wide-mouthed and red in the face, until he was finally able to speak again. “What the FUCK was that Y/N- You broke up with me!”

You simply shrugged, and gripped his arm, dragging him out towards the front doors. “What if I told you I changed my mind?” Sebastian could hardly get any retort out, sputtering words as you dragged him out into the lamp-lit, rainy street.

Sebastian sputtered some more, before finally yanking free of your grip. “And what exactly makes you think you can just decide that Y/N. For fuck’s sake, didn’t I see you snogging Amit just the other week? I thought you had moved on already, and here you come ruining my chances. I had a good thing going there you know. Plus, you broke up with me, remember?” The Slytherin crossed his arms over his chest, clearly fuming at your actions. Honestly, you were kind of glad you still had this effect on him. After all, Sebastian was the most attractive when he was angry.

You let out a soft chuckle, as you drunkenly took a couple more steps towards him, and placed your hand on his cheek. He flushed at the contact, his resolve clearly flattering a bit. “I mean, I did, but I’ve decided to put your last transgression aside, just for tonight… Assuming you’re interested?” You cocked an eyebrow, trying to give him the most seductive smile you could when this wasted. Sebastian studied your face for only a few moments, before making the decision you always knew he would.

As he leaned in to capture your lips with his own, you pulled him closer to you with fistfuls of his shirt, and apparated you to your room of requirement. You both stumbled a bit at the sudden travel, but Sebastian recovered quickly. Pressing you backward with increasingly more desperate kisses, he pressed you into a wall, and gripped your thighs to hoist you up higher.

You your legs wrapped around his waist, you could already feel his erection growing- You loved having this effect on him, almost as much as you loved being railed by him. You pressed your core against him, rubbing until you gained a satisfied groan from his lips.

Sebastian moved his lips away from yours and began to greedily press kisses against your neck, as his hands traveled under your sweater, gracing your skin with his hot touch. Between kisses, he choked out praises, trying his best to earn a reaction. “Fuck, Y/N- I didn’t know how much I missed your body.” He let out another throaty groan and you pressed yourself against his still-clothed erection, and let out a small sigh of your own.

“If you missed my body that much, you sure are not doing a great job of taking my clothes off.” Sebastian let out a chuckle against your neck, before taking the invitation and beginning to practically rip your clothes off of you, throwing your sweater and skirt to the floor, with your tights following close after. You began to work on his buttons and belt, quickly ridding him of his clothes until only his undergarments remained on, his shirt long discarded and his pants pooled around his legs.

Finally letting you down from your pinned position to fully remove his pants, Sebastian pointed to the chaise lounge. “You, on there, now. Strip while you’re at it.”

To his surprise, you were more obedient than usual, as you gave him a mischievous smirk over your shoulder and began to walk towards the lounge, leaving a trail of undergarments as you went. Eventually, you laid down fully bare, and eyed Sebastian’s form as he made his way over. He too had chosen to discard all of his clothing, and now held his length in his hand, rubbing slowly as he greedily eyed your body.

“All submissive and spread out for me- You know, I think I may like you better like this.” He let around a soft chuckle as he knelt in front of you, grabbing the backs of your knees to yank you closer.

The next thing you knew, his mouth had collided with your core, his tongue traveling over your folds. You let out a moan, your head falling back against the lounge as your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling that delicious mouth of his even closer.

Sebastian obliged willing, his tongue probing your entrance before he moved to suck gently on your clit. You looked down to meet his lustful eyes, as he brought his hand up to your opening. While continuing the suction on your clit, he brought his fingers to your folds, stroking a few times to wet them before dipping them in, gaining an elicit reaction from you.

You groaned his name, as your grip on his hair only tightened. You could feel him chuckle against you, as you let out a few lewd moans. “There, there darling.” Sebastian pistoned his fingers in and out of you harder, moving up your body to stare down at your face. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you come until my cock is inside you. You deserve at least that much for putting me through the wringer these past few weeks.”

You could barely contain your excitement as he eventually withdrew his fingers from you, and used your slick to wet the tip of his cock. He then leaned over your body, positioning himself at your entrance. “Have you been a good girl for me, stayed as tight as I like it?”

You let out a stuttered yes, as your eyes traveled down his form and to his cock, which looked as large as ever. Gods, you loved having sex when Sebastian was mad at you.

Sebastian let out a chuckle, before pressing a needy kiss against your lips. “Good.”

Without warning, you felt him penetrating you. Before you could even adjust, he began to thrust in and out, letting out lewd noises of his own. “Fuck Y/N- You don’t know how much I missed this.” He filled you completely before pulling back out again, delightfully stretching your walls with each thrust.

“Gods, Sebastian- I-I missed you too.” You begged for it harder, wrapping your hands around his back and digging your nails in, drawing him in even closer.

Sebastian’s thrusts began to falter a bit, as he left a mark on your neck, slightly regretting the ruthless pace he had chosen to set. His hands moved down to your hips, one holding you down tightly. The other continued onto your core, as his fingers found purchase against your clit and began to rub those circles you loved, ever so dearly.

You groaned uncontrollably, begging for more, as your orgasm drew ever nearer. Sebastian was clearly in the same boat, as his hips began to falter even more. Still, he tried his best to continue, willing your orgasm to come before his. “Tell me Y/N, can Amit make you feel this good?” He looked up to study your expression, trying his best to hide his worry that you may in fact say yes.

“O-Of course not- fuck… No one can make me feel like you do Sebastian.” That gained a grin from the freckled boy, who rubbed with more pressure as if to reward the answer he so desperately needed to hear.

“Good, then cum for me, babe.” It was only a few moments before you obliged him, your body winding tightly before releasing into wonderful waves of pleasure, that took over your form and made you go limp against the lounge.

Sebastian’s attack on your body only continued, until he eventually filled you with hot trails of his seed, his hips gradually slowing down as he lingered in the warm heat of your connection.

Eventually, once you came to a bit more, you found Sebastian lying beside you, his arms wrapped around your frame as he rubbed your back, pressing gentle kissing against your forehead. You eventually looked up, giving him a shy smile, before reaching up to press a soft kiss against his lips.

Sebastian smiled down at you as well, studying your features with quiet intrigue. “Would it be too forward to ask if this means that we’re back together?”

You let out a small chuckle, pressing your lips gently against his cheek. “I suppose it does… Assuming you can provide dick like that every night.”

Sebastian laughed, brushing a strand of hair from your face behind your ear, cementing the fact that you were once again his. “I suppose I could try… Tough standard to live up to.”

“Oh don’t worry… I’m sure you will. Besides, I know I’ll always be able to find ways to make you mad. You’re kind of an easy target.”